Page 16 of Forsaken Trail (Runaway 4)

“Water. Please.”

“Of course.”

Before I caught him in another bow, I walked down the aisle and took the seat across from Brody’s. “Who’s Heather?”

“My ex-fiancée.” His attentio

n stayed focused on the phone.

“Ahh. And she’ll be at the wedding.”

“Yes,” he said flatly. “She’s the bride.”

“Oh,” I murmured as the attendant appeared with my water glass balanced perfectly on a black tray. I took it, cringed at yet another bow—please, stop bowing—and waited until he’d disappeared behind a curtain toward the cockpit. “Tell me what I’m getting into here.”

Brody scowled but tucked his phone into the jacket pocket of his tux. “My ex-fiancée, Heather, is marrying my brother, Alastair.”

“Did she become his fiancée before or after she was no longer yours?”

“Before. During. Neither will admit they’d been fucking before the one time I caught them in the act, but I know Alastair and he’s never been one to abstain.”

“Alastair.” My nose scrunched. “And I thought Broderick was pretentious.”

“They are family names.”

“Shocking.” The word dripped with sarcasm.

That type of retort would normally incense Brody. It should have antagonized him into some verbal sparring. At the very least, that blatant censure should have earned me a glare and a jaw tic.

Instead . . . nothing. His gaze was unfocused as he stared ahead, like he’d missed my comment entirely. Brody’s fingers tapped on his knee.

Was he nervous? The signs were subtle, so much so that most would probably miss them. But I knew Brody. He always fought for the last word. Always.

Like he always fought back.

“She left you for your brother, right? Heather?”

He nodded, his eyebrows coming together, but that gaze was still locked on some imaginary spot on the plane’s wall.

Interesting. Clearly, I was along as revenge of sorts. Did he still love her? How painful would this be for him?

Or maybe his fears had nothing to do with the bride. Maybe his fears were because I was on his arm instead of my sister.

“I won’t embarrass you,” I promised.

Brody blinked and mentally replayed my words. And when his gaze met mine, it was softer than I’d ever seen it before. He looked at me the way he looked at Clara. With kindness. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Are you sure?”

“My family is . . . difficult. I avoid them mostly. The last place I want to be is at this wedding, but I have no choice.”

That was all the explanation I got. The attendant entered the cabin, his hands clasped behind his back. “We’ll be leaving momentarily, sir.”

“Very good,” Brody said, dismissing him.

The pilot greeted us next, outlining the details of the flight and shaking Brody’s hand. They all called him sir. Everywhere we’d gone tonight, he was sir.

It wasn’t until we were in the air, the short forty-five-minute flight well underway, that I spoke again. “Clara doesn’t call you sir.”