Wylde Fire

by Sarah Robinson

  It wasn't just her looks though. He was definitely attracted to her after their night at the distillery—so much so that he had to concentrate to make sure the growing bulge in his pants was hidden beneath the conference table—but it was her spirit and presence that really drew him to her. She was sweet and kind, but powerful and in charge in the same breath. She was everything Sam wished he could be—both in charge and commanding respect, while also carefree and lightheaded. She'd mastered a perfect harmony between the two that he found utterly intoxicating.

  "Sam?" Noah stared at him, waving a hand in front of his face.

  Blinking quickly, Sam sat up and tried to remember what they'd just been talking about. "Yes?"

  "Yes to the venue?" Noah asked again.

  "Wait, say it again," Sam replied, feeling his cheeks heat at being caught not paying attention.

  Holly smirked, but it wasn't cruel or teasing, just silly and amused. "I was telling your partners that you and I talked about the distillery being the perfect venue for the grand opening party. We could host tours throughout to show the process, as well as give out samples, and then set up a big tented party area outside where everyone could congregate."

  The distillery was between a small road and a thick forest of trees, but there was a large open field across from it. They owned all the land around it, so it wouldn't cost them anything extra either. "Right. I agreed. That sounds perfect," Sam said.

  "Great." Holly smiled, the tip of her pen between her teeth, her tongue pressing against it. "I think we can do this, gentleman. I'm going to help you take the world by storm."

  "Fuck yes!" Noah pumped his fist in the air. "Let's do it. Your girl is good, Sam."

  "Wait," Caleb said, lifting one hand in the air. "We're just here for a consult. We didn't say we'd hire you, Ms. Glen."

  Sam and Noah both turned to look at him like he'd lost his mind.

  "Uh, Caleb?" Sam asked, wanting to defend his new wife. Also, he had already hired her. Without his partner's permission—but still. "What are you doing?"

  "No, it's fine, Mr. Daughtry," Holly stopped Sam. "You are right. I haven't yet proven to you why you should hire me." Flipping to another page on her notepad, she scribbled something down and then ripped out the sheet and pushed it across the table to Caleb. They all looked down at it—an address. "I'm hosting an event tonight in Nashville. Come as my guests and see for yourself."

  Caleb nodded his head. "All right."

  "Sure," Noah said, turning to Sam. "That sounds like a good idea, actually."

  Excitement stirred in Sam at the prospect of going to an event tonight with Holly. "Good idea, Holly. We'll all go."

  "Great. It's a date." Holly smiled, tilting her head to the side slightly. There was a challenge in her expression this time, her usual sweetness turned competitive and fierce.

  He might like this side of her even more.

  He'd offered her the job without any effort on her part and now she wanted to work for it—she wanted to prove she deserved it. He liked that about her. Hell, he admired the fuck out of that.

  "Well, I hate to break up…whatever the fuck this is," Noah said, motioning between Holly and Sam. "But I've got to get back to the distillery."

  "Me, too," Caleb echoed as everyone got to their feet. "It was great to meet you, Ms. Glen. We'll be seeing you soon."

  "See you tonight," Holly said, shaking his hand, and then Noah's, as they left of the conference room. She didn't follow them, instead turning to look for Sam, who'd hung back after putting the address for tonight in his pocket. "Headed out with them?"

  "More like they're waiting for me," Sam said with a small chuckle, holding up the car keys. "I drove us here."

  "You better not keep them waiting then." Holly leaned her back against the door frame, pushing her hands into her pockets.

  Sam took a few steps forward, closing the distance between them. "They can wait."

  Too close.

  Her chest was rising and falling quicker as she lifted her gaze, looking up at him through thick, dark lashes. Sam swallowed, knowing he should step back, knowing he should put distance between them, but unable to remember why. She was going to be his wife after all, but something suddenly felt more…serious?

  "Holly?" His voice was low—husky, gravelly, completely betraying what he was thinking.

  She reached forward and placed her hand on his chest, moving her hand up to straighten the lapel on his jacket. Such an innocent move, and yet, his skin burned beneath the fabric at her very touch. "Yes?"

  He wanted to ask her if he could kiss her. If he could take her here and now on the conference table, explore every inch of her body and see how far the tattoos wrapped down her body. He wanted to ask if she felt it, too…if her skin singed at the proximity of their bodies, her breath lost at the closeness of his.

  "Tonight," he said, purposefully being vague.

  Holly's eyes widened and she bit the corner of her lip, but said nothing.

  He stepped past her and left to find his partners. Because what was happening between the two of them? It was more than just future fake husband and wife.

  Chapter Twelve

  "Olive or Twist?" Caleb asked Sam, pushing open the door to the brand-new martini bar in Nashville that they were visiting for the night. "I don't get it."

  "Like Oliver Twist. It's a literary-themed bar," Sam explained, gesturing around them to the walls covered in books. Hell, the entire place looked more like a library than a bar. Crowds of people were milling around, browsing the bookshelves with fancy cocktails in one hand and books in the other. Comfy nooks with couches and oversized chairs hosted groups of people reading and chatting in hushed tones. The lights were dimmed and the entire place had a serious vibe to it that made Sam feel a little out of place as a country boy in a city bar.

  "Oh," Caleb replied. 'That's kind of cool. This place has a really cool atmosphere."

  Caleb was definitely a city guy, so it would make sense that he'd like the bar. He was a young tech billionaire after all—nerdy things were his go to. Sam, on the other hand, felt like he stood out like a sore thumb.

  "I feel like I need a drink," Noah said. "I'm the odd one out in a place like this."

  His cousin understood his plight.

  They meandered over to the long wooden bar that navigated one entire side of the bar and checked out the cocktail list for the grand opening. The crowd was three-deep to get to the bar, but they eventually were able to make their way up to the bartenders.

  "Can I order a Sherlock Scotch?" Sam ordered, reading one of the cocktails off the list that looked not-as-girly as the rest of the menu. It was mostly straight scotch, actually.

  "I'll have the Atone-Mint Julep," Caleb said.

  Noah perused the menu. "And I'll have the Butter Beer."

  Sam lifted his brow. "Butter beer?"

  Noah shrugged. "I'm a Gryffindor."

  Caleb snorted. "Doubt that. You're a Slytherin, for sure."

  Sam screwed his brows together. "What the fuck are you all talking about? Are you all seriously talking about Harry Potter right now? A bunch of grown ass men…"

  "There's no age limit on Harry Potter, Sam," Holly interrupted them, walking up and placing her hand on his back. "It's timeless."

  Sam grinned down at her, taking in the small silver dress hanging off of her shoulders and cutting off mid-thigh. It shimmered under the bar lights and was a halter top that wrapped around her neck, covering most of her chest and back. Tall, thin black stilettos lifted her off the ground and brought her closer to his height.

  "Hi, Holly," he greeted her.

  "Welcome to the grand opening, fellas," she replied, waving her arms around to indicate the large crowd filling out the bar.

  There were at least three hundred people here tonight, packing the place to the brim. It was a small location and could probably only hold half this amount of people on a normal night. Caterers were walking around with hors d’oeuvres on trays, serving the pat
rons. Bartenders were moving quickly behind the bar, trying to keep up with the demand. Bookseller attendants were answering questions about the books on the shelves. A few famous authors were signing novels and walking around talking to readers. Literary themed events were happening all over the bar.

  Sam found himself amazed by all of it. "This is amazing, Holly. What a cool place."

  "Okay, so clearly you can throw a party," Caleb said.

  "But…it is just a cool party," Noah noted. "Who's to say that translates into a great marketing campaign?"

  Holly nodded, pulling her phone out of her clutch. She opened Facebook and showed them the bar's feed, which had clearly been tagged hundreds of times that night and was being talked about everywhere online. Local people were posting about it and talking about when they were going to come check out the new bar. She clicked over to Instagram next and hundreds of pictures showed the exact same thing. "See this? That's marketing. I didn't just invite random strangers here to the grand opening. I invited influencers and local promoters who I knew would talk about this place, then I dazzled the hell out of them."

  Noah's eyebrows rose as he scrolled through her phone, examining all the chatter online about the bar they were currently in.

  "And outside right now? There's a line of over one hundred people trying to get in, and more showing up and being turned away every minute," Holly continued. "Now while your party wouldn't be the exact same as this, it would be as customized to fit your needs as this party was to fit theirs. I don't just plan a party—I plan the impact."

  Sam couldn't wipe the grin from his face. Damn, everything about her excited him. Her intelligence, her confidence—she knew what she was doing and had no problem letting them know it.

  "Well, damn, Sam," Noah said, clapping him on the back. "Looks like your girlfriend is our new event planner."

  "Fiancée," he reminded his cousin.

  "Right. I still can't wrap my brain around that, but your chick has balls—kudos." Noah rubbed the back of his neck, then took a sip of his cocktail. "Well, I'm going to go enjoy the party and hit on some nerdy chicks. Don't wait up for me tonight, folks."

  Caleb downed the rest of his cocktail. "Same here. I'd rather not be a third wheel, but congratulations, Ms. Glen. I'm sure you're going to do a great job."

  The two men grabbed another round of drinks and then slipped away into the crowd, leaving Sam and Holly alone.

  "It really is an amazing party," Sam confirmed. "You did a hell of a job."

  "I'm not just a trophy wife, you know," she teased, running her hand from his shoulder down his chest. "I got some brains."

  He chuckled. "Lucky me. Can I buy the brainiac a drink?"

  She nodded. "That would be much appreciated. I'll have the Moby Dick."

  "You'll have my what?" he asked.

  Holly laughed. "Don't be so dirty. It's the name of one of the gin cocktails."

  Sam wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her toward the bar. "Sure, but later…"

  "Oh, really?" She raised one brow. "I'm going to be here pretty late to oversee the cleanup."

  "I'll wait." He shrugged. "Or I can give you a key and you can come over when you're done."

  "A key?"

  Sam pulled out the keychain from his pocket and started sliding his house key off the ring. "Yeah, you're going to need it anyway when you move your stuff in. Might as well get a copy now." He had a spare key at home he could use for himself.

  Holly blinked rapidly, pulling away. "We're moving in together?"

  "Well…yeah? I mean, soon, at least. We're getting married," he reminded her. "I don't think we can really pull off a fake marriage if we're still living in separate places, babe."

  He had been by her place before and it was pretty small—quaint and nice, but definitely cramped. His ranch was one of the largest properties in town. It only made sense that they move into his house. Plus, he needed to be close to the animals since he took care of his horses every day.

  Holly just stared at him, as if the idea had never crossed her mind. "We're just engaged though…"

  "Engaged people live together all the time."

  "I just hadn't…I hadn't thought about us actually living together," she countered. "Like…we're really doing this? Really becoming…a married couple."

  "Hol, these kinds of thoughts would have been great to have before we went to Town Hall and got a marriage license to commit insurance fraud," he said, his voice lowering to a whisper at the end. "Are you changing your mind now?"

  She shook her head. "No. Definitely not."

  "Are you uncomfortable?" he asked. "I don't want to push you or make you do something you're not ready for. If you don't want to go through with the wedding, tell me."

  He couldn't help but hope she'd say no. He hadn't really put a lot of thought into it before, but now that they were talking about it, he knew this was what he wanted. Not only did it just make sense for their whole fake marriage scheme—how else could they look like a real couple? But, he also just liked having her around. He liked the idea of coming home to someone, to a wife, to…Holly.

  She excited him, and all he wanted was to be around her as much as possible. It was like he was addicted and she was his drug. He couldn't stop himself and he didn't want to.

  "No, it's not that. It's just a lot to adjust to. You're like my white knight," she said, a small smile spreading across her face. "I just feel like there's nothing I can do to repay you for all you're doing for me."

  "Help me make Wyldefire Whiskey a household name," he said. "That's repayment enough." He handed her the key. "Tell me what you need to make the place your own. I can't decorate for shit. The place could use a woman's touch."

  "This is insane," she reminded him. "I'm going to need another drink now."

  Sam ordered her a refill at the bar. "At your request, my lady," he said, handing her the drink. "Get drunk. You deserve it after all the work you put in to this event."

  She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "I'm definitely not getting drunk, but two or three won't kill me. Marrying you, on the other hand…"

  He put a hand on his chest. "Someone is feeling very sassy today," he teased. "There are punishments for that, you know."

  Holly raised a brow. "Oh, are there?"

  He nodded. "I think we'll have to explore some of that tonight when you get home."

  "Home…" A dreamy smile settled over her face, then she slowly shook her head. "Fucking crazy."

  "I'm ready if you are," he replied, more truth behind his words than he even realized before now.

  She swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing red. "I think I am."

  Sam took her hand, pressing a kiss against her knuckles. "I can't wait."

  Chapter Thirteen

  Her back hit the glass of the front door as soon as she walked through it. "Sam," Holly gasped as he pressed her up against the closed door.

  The cool glass bit at her flesh sending chills and bumps running up and down her skin. He twisted his fingers around hers and pinned her hands back against the glass.

  "What took you so long?" he asked.

  She'd had to stay late at the party to supervise and help with clean up, but, as agreed earlier in the evening, had come over to Sam's house as soon as she was done. Honestly, she'd been trying to get out of there as fast as possible to make it here. The promise of what was in store was just too much, she was already about to burst just from anticipation.

  "I'm really good at my job…" she teased, but his lips crushed hers before she could even finish speaking.

  His tongue probed her mouth, and she parted for him, wanting and eager. She moaned as his hands slid down her wrists, across her forearms and up her arms to her shoulders. He slid the tips of his fingers down the sides of her breasts until he reached her stomach, circling to her back. He scooped his palms under her ass and lifted her against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he kicked the main door closed behind them and walked with her farth
er into the house. He made a straight line directly for the bedroom, his knees hitting the mattress as they tumbled on to the top of the comforter together.

  "Ah," she moaned against his chest as she kissed a line across his collarbone and up his neck. She was already pulling his clothes off as quickly as possible, and he was doing the same to her.

  "I've been thinking about taking your clothes off all night," he said, his voice rough and husky.

  Within minutes, they were skin to skin, hot bodies pressed together as he towered over her, his hips pushing down against hers. His hand snaked between them, finding the apex between her legs. When he touched her most sensitive spot, she nearly bounced off the bed. Small, fast circles had her hips grinding against his hand.

  "Oh, God, yes…just like that."

  He growled against her neck, nipping at her flesh. "You're so fucking wet, Holly."

  She licked her lips, deciding to be a little brazen. "For you…it's only for you."

  Apparently, he liked that answer because she could feel his hard manhood pressing against her hip bone twitch in response. His middle finger dipped lower, sliding inside her. She moaned at the intrusion, rubbing her hips against his palm with each thrust of his finger inside her.

  She fell apart against him within moments, unraveling as her orgasm hit her like a freight train.

  "Sam!" she called out his name as her arms wrapped around his neck, anchoring herself to him. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think as every pulsing wave hit her. "Oh, God…"

  Pushing her knees apart with his legs, Sam moved in between her and positioned himself in front of her. He reached toward the nightstand, but she shook her head.

  "No condom…I want to feel you."