with a small, rawhide-covered drum. They began to play a soft melody with a hint of Spanish guitar, which he recognized but couldn’t quite place.
A flurry of activity at the entrance to the garden drew his gaze and Hank said, “Maizy and her dad must be arriving.”
“He’s walking her?” Travis didn’t need to be told that George Owen would’ve been dead set against anything that might infer his approval of an alternative lifestyle. The guy was all about appearances and status in the community.
Hank smirked. “She wore him down. I’m telling you, Trav, the women in this town have got skills. I’ll bet that’s who Grace wanted me to talk with,” he said, gesturing with his chin across the way, to where the brunette was located. Travis could sense her nervousness as she glanced around, her hand resting over her throat, and noted how pale her complexion had grown. She took a deep breath and then removed her smartphone from her purse and focused her attention on it.
“Do you know her name?”
The brunette adjusted her glasses daintily on her nose as Hank replied. “Last name is Benedict. She’s related somehow to Grandma Kate.”
Benedict? He turned to Hank, then glanced at her again, then back to his friend. “ Veronica Benedict?”
Hank looked his way and nodded with a smile. “Yeah, I think so. You know her?”
“I’ll be damned. Yeah, from way back. She grew up.” Holy hell, did she grow up .
Travis noticed that Hank’s gaze was now riveted on her. “Pretty, too. Hmm.”
“What did she want to talk to you about?”
Hank leaned close and whispered, “Dominance and submission.”
Right then she looked up, as though she’d somehow overheard them, which was impossible, and made eye contact with Travis. Her pale lips parted in surprise and then a beautiful flush filled her cheeks, restoring her color somewhat. Seeing that change in her gave Travis an inordinate feeling of accomplishment. It had tightened his gut to see her looking so uncomfortable earlier.
Grace whispered something to Veronica as she smiled and gestured to Hank. Travis’s cock tingled as he watched her react to whatever Grace said and her eyes swung back and forth between Hank and Travis. She bit her lip as though her nervousness had returned and then she tilted her head, staring at Travis with questions in her eyes.
Her eyes were the color of cinnamon, complementing her dark hair, was actually a rich shade of auburn when the sun came out from behind a cloud. The strands glistened as though they’d caught fire.
Risking a chance that Hank and the rest of the people around him would think he was crazy, he joined his hands together and imitated a bird in flight. The smile on her face damn near blinded him.
“Well, now, Fishcop, that was an interesting exchange. You know each other?”
Travis nodded and was about to speak when the tempo of the music slowed and then swelled in volume slightly, giving a nonverbal signal of the bridal party’s approach.
Someone shushed him as he tried to ask Hank how this wedding ceremony was supposed to work with all three guys up there, so he contented himself with watching. Carrying a bouquet of red roses, Maizy’s older sister Rhonda made her way forward, followed by a little blond-headed boy of about six who must have been a member of the family, bearing the wedding rings.
Travis stifled laughter when he noticed little Rose Marie reclining in Grandma Kate’s lap, looking bored until the little boy passed by. She promptly sat up and stuck her tongue out at him. Grace admonished her daughter but Travis saw it when the little boy made a funny face at Rose Marie and then winked at her. She rolled her eyes, unimpressed.
“See what I mean?” Hank asked as he chuckled.
A gorgeous brunette amazon that Travis was damned sure he would’ve remembered if he’d ever met her followed along behind them at an unhurried pace. The bridal party lined up on one side of the minister, balanced by