On the Way to a Wedding by Suzanne Stengl Read Free Book Online

father’s not there. Right?”
    She stared at him.
    “Last night, you told me he was expecting you. In Kalispell.”
    Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath, and held it. She must have remembered telling him that. “Yes.”
    “How come he’s in Kalispell?”
    “He’s . . .” She was looking at her lap.
    “He’s not with your mother.”
    “No.”
    For some reason, she didn’t want to talk about her father. “Are they divorced?” Why would she not want to tell him that?
    “No.” And then she looked up at him. “Are you sure you’re not the lawyer. I’m feeling interrogated.”
    Pro laughed and, speaking to Ryder, he said, “You don’t have to come back to Calgary.”
    “I’m not. I’m taking her to Canmore.”
    “She might as well go to Calgary. She’s got to get back there anyway.”
    “All right. Then I’ll take her to Calgary.”
    “I can do that,” Pro said.
    “Can you make her go to the hospital?”
    “I can’t make anybody do anything.”
    “Then I’ll take her.”
    “Good,” Pro said.
    “ Good? ”
    “Yes,” Toria said. “What do you mean— good? ”
    “You’re not expected back at work,” Pro explained, not explaining at all. “We’ll have time to look at this.” He picked up a manila envelope from beside the frying pan and set it next to Ryder’s plate.
    “The partnership agreement?” He didn’t want to face it.
    “No. Your prenup.”
    “Pre— I don’t need a prenup.”
    “Everyone needs a prenup.”
    Ryder turned to Toria. “Do you have a prenup?”
    “I don’t think so.”
    Naturally. She wouldn’t know if she had one or not. He couldn’t stand ditzy women. Catherine, at least, was logical.
    He pushed the envelope back to Pro. “Catherine won’t go for it.”
    “I know.”
    “You do?”
    Pro set his fork down, lining it up parallel to the knife balanced on the plate’s edge. He took a sip of coffee. “I’ve already given her a copy.”
    “ You what? ”
    “She wasn’t impressed.”
    Resignation pounded into Ryder’s brain. Maybe he needed more caffeine. He reached for the pot. What he didn’t need was another argument with Catherine. “I doubt she’ll sign it.”
    “No, of course not. She can’t. She’ll need her own lawyer to look at it.”
    Terrific . He hadn’t even dealt with the poodle, and now this. “Pro, I know you mean well, but―”
    “I’m your lawyer. I’d be remiss if I didn’t do this.”
    “Pro,” Toria said, “why do I need a prenup?”
    · · · · ·
    Toria waited on the porch beside Pro, watching as Ryder carried the cooler down the path to his truck. The sun was shining and a few tentative clouds flitted across the sky.
    A sense of safety enveloped her and she relaxed her guard, for just a moment. But then she tensed, making her foot hurt again.
    Last night the thought of going to a hospital had scared her. But now, in the clear light of morning, going to the hospital didn’t seem like such a bad thing. It seemed like a practical thing. She needed to get her foot checked, to be sure it was only a sprain. And it wasn’t like Greg . . . would . . . like he would . . .
    Her body tensed again, firing a blast of pain to her foot.
    Ryder had rewrapped the tensor after breakfast. And he’d shaved. He was on his way back to the cabin now, looking so tall and strong and competent. And handsome.
    No . She wouldn’t go there. Who cared about handsome? Best not to think about Ryder. So she thought about Pro, who was standing beside her.
    Pro. What a funny name . . .
    He was tall, like Ryder, though not as tall as Ryder. And, like Ryder, he had dark hair, though not as dark as Ryder. And where Ryder’s eyes were blue, this man’s eyes were brown. A warm, kind brown.
    His navy polo shirt, navy pants with the tightly pressed creases, and dark leather shoes with laces seemed out of place. For a cabin. At least he wasn’t wearing a suit—although, now that she thought about it, he carried