Lyric and Lingerie (Fort Worth Wranglers 1)

Heath pushed the door open and held it for her. She started to walk in, but paused for a moment as she realized there was someone else in the room. Someone who was very definitely not family. Her mother sat in the chair next to her father’s bed, talking with a man in a tailored pink shirt, black trousers, and what looked like an honest-to-God cape. Was he a superhero or a magician? They were hunched over a large three-ring binder.

“How is the patient feeling this morning?” Heath led her to the other side of her father’s bed.

“So much better.” Her father’s color was back to normal. “I’ve been up and walking already this morning.”

“That’s what Momma said.” Lyric leaned forward and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

“So this is the bride?” Cape Man had an accent that was part Zorro and part Dracula. He stepped in front of Lyric and inspected her like she’d been grown in a lab. “We have our works cut out for us, yes?”

He gingerly pinched a lock of her hair between his fingers.

He thought she needed work? The man was wearing a cape … on purpose.

“I know.” Her mother put her hand over her heart. “We need to burn those shoes.”

Lyric took a step back. “Why?” She glanced down at the sparkly pink Birks Heath had somehow found for her. “I like these shoes. Heath got them for me.”

Her mother shrugged her shoulders in defeat. “Just promise me, you won’t wear them on your wedding day.”

“Or any day when you are around peoples with eyes that works.” Cape Man was getting on her nerves.

“I don’t think we’ve met.” Heath held out his hand. “I’m Heath Montgomery.”

“I’m Gregor Von Ramirez.” Instead of shaking Heath’s hand, he clicked his heels together and bowed low, his cape dusting the floor. He announced, “Event planner to the stars.”

San Angelo had stars? Well, besides the ones in the sky and Heath, of course.

Heath pulled his hand back in. “Good to meet you, Grayson—”

“It’s Gregor—”

“Sure, Garry.” Heath was enjoying messing with Gregor.

“It’s Gregor—”

“Okay.” Lyric looked at her mother for translation. “Why do we need an event planner?”

“To plan your wedding.” Her mother beamed. “Gregor was kind enough to drop everything and drive in from San Antonio.”

Oh God. Things were getting way out of hand. Lyric glanced at Heath uneasily and then said, “I think there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Me too.” Her mother patted her father’s arm. “Your father has already been up a third time since I talked to you. He is determined to be ready to walk you down that aisle.”

“Walk her?” Heath said, suitably impressed

. “At this rate, he’s going to be able to carry her.”

“Well, not unless she is losing twenty pounds.” Gregor’s accent was heavy on the Dracula.

“Lyric’s light as a feather.” Heath stepped into Gregor’s personal space. “Of course her father can carry her … with one arm tied behind his back.”

“My baby girl is perfect just the way she is,” her father said with a huge grin. He was the happiest she had ever seen him. “Now what did you want to tell us, baby girl?”

“Your wedding has given your father something to live for.” Her mother leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. Was Lyric imagining the warning in her mother’s voice? And the implication that if Lyric told them the truth, she’d kill her father.

“Oh … um.” She really didn’t think that would happen, but it wasn’t like she was going to take the chance. At this rate, she and Heath were going to take their secret to the grave. Or at least back to Hawaii. “Well. Mercury’s in retrograde, so it should be the perfect time to plan a wedding.”

Good God, what had she done?