FIND SANDY! My sister had sent it in all caps.
I grimaced. “Oops.”
I’d gotten slightly distracted from my mission with my dalliance with Dylan, but I was back on track now. Glancing around the main foyer, I decided to head down a side hallway toward where the bathrooms were to check for my cousin.
I headed into the women’s restroom and squatted down to look under the stalls. No feet. The bathroom was empty.
Sighing, I stood back up and headed back out to the main hallway. Suddenly, female laughter caught my ear. I looked toward the sound and found myself staring at the men’s bathroom. Frowning, I wondered if Sandy had somehow made her way in there. Whatever the reason was—it wouldn’t be pleasant for me.
Cautiously approaching the door, I knocked on it and then cracked it open. I didn’t see anyone, but there were definitely feet visible under the first stall.
Four feet…
“Hello? Sandy?” I called out hesitantly, feeling incredibly uncomfortable at interrupting whatever was happening.
“Oh!” Sandy responded. “Hi! Coming right out!”
There was some more giggling and I quickly stepped back and decided to wait in the hallway. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I should do that. Maybe I should just go back to the bridal room and wait for her return.
Just as I was about to walk away, the bathroom door swung open and Sandy bustled into view.
“Sorry about that. Is it time for the ceremony yet?”
I nodded. “A couple minutes. They sent me to come find you.”
She blushed slightly, but there was a smirk on her lips that told me she could care less. “My bad. Let’s go.”
The bathroom door swung open a second time behind Sandy and a tall man with dark hair stepped into view.
She turned to look at him and I lifted my eyes to find his face.
Everything inside of me turned cold. My stomach somersaulted and I took a step back, trying to find a way to remember to breathe.
“Bl-Blake?” His name left my lips with a stutter.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. God, he looked as good as he had the last time I’d seen him—maybe more so. He’d clearly been working out, and his muscles were more defined than ever through the suit he was wearing. His eyes pierced mine, staring directly into my soul the way he’d always seemed capable of doing. This was the man I’d spent years loving, giving my entire life to, and picturing a whole future with.
And he was here—with her.
“You two know each other?” Sandy looked between us, an innocent expression on her face.
I narrowed my eyes. Bullshit.
“Uh, yeah…” Blake said, looking sheepishly at me but then wrapping an arm around Sandy’s waist. “We go back quite a bit.”
“Do you?” Sandy smiled at me. “Well, that’s fun!”
“So fun,” I replied, not at all meaning it. In what universe was it okay for my ex-boyfriend to be at my sister’s wedding—with my cousin on his arm?
“I’ll see you after the ceremony,” Blake said to Sandy, leaning down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. He turned to me next. “Nice to see you again, Emma.”
I just nodded my head, but looked away. As soon as he was gone, I turned to Sandy.
“You’re late,” I seethed, furious because there was absolutely no freaking way that she didn’t know exactly who Blake was to me. When we had been dating, I’d posted pictures of us on Facebook all the time. I know she had seen them. She had to have.
I used to think Sandy was well meaning, but just a little selfish and dramatic. Now? I’m seeing red and positive that I’m in the face of fucking evil. Blake was mine, even if we weren’t together anymore. He was hands off and she would have known that. It broke every possible rule in girl code. Not to mention, she wasn’t even given a plus one to this wedding, and she chose him!
“You are now, too!” she replied. “Come on, let’s go!”
I followed her down the hallway and back to the bridal room. I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket again and pulled it out to check if it was my sister trying to find out where we were.
Nope. It wasn’t Elise.
Blake’s name popped up on the screen. I’m here for you. I’m not giving up on us.
That was all it said.
He was here—at my sister’s wedding with my cousin—for me.
It’s something I had wanted to hear from him for years—that he was putting in any effort. That he was pursuing me. And here it was, everything I’d asked for. He was giving it to me.
The only thing was, I didn’t know if I wanted that anymore.
I didn’t know if I wanted him anymore.
A second text buzzed through and appeared on the screen. This one from Dylan.
I can’t wait to walk down the aisle with you.
There were two men who wanted me…and I didn’t know who to choose.
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Keep reading for a short excerpt from another novel!
A Sneak Peek of Wylde Fire
A Contemporary Southern Romance
Now Live!
booksbysarahrobinson.net/wylde-fire/
Prologue
Flames flickered high in the rickyard, the strong scent of sugar maple and whiskey tickling Sam Wylde's nose as he watched the blaze grow higher. There was nothing he loved more than preparing for the first season of his brand-new company launch in Wyldefire Whiskey.
He'd spent the last five years building toward the launch of this business. Blood, sweat, tears. Name it, he'd done it. But it wasn't without sacrifice. As Sam watched the flames grow higher, he thought of everything he'd lost in the last year and everything he'd sacrificed in order to make Wyldefire the leading new brand of whiskey in the country.
There was one question he had to keep asking himself…
Was it worth it?
Chapter One
"You cannot do this to me, Cassie," Sam Wylde argued over the speakerphone attached to his truck's dashboard. He cringed as his Southern drawl came out a little thicker than usual. Frustration did that to him, and right now it was taking everything in him to not start cussing.
With a deft twist of his wrist, he steered his truck into the parking lot next to Town Hall, cutting off another car with a halfhearted wave of acknowledgement. He needed to pick up several permits before the city offices closed, leaving no room for pleasantries.
Damn, for a Saturday, the lot sure is packed.
He sighed and forced his attention back to the phone call. "We've got a few months until the launch of the entire brand. Everything I've done the last two years is riding on this."
"I'm really sorry," Cassie, his event planner, said from the other end of the phone. Or former event planner, apparently. "But I can't be in two places at once, and neither can my influencers and vendors. We're booked for that day now."
Teetering on the brink of exploding, Sam breathed in slowly. "But. You. Signed. With. Us. First." He ground the words out slow and steady.
"Technically, I haven't signed an actual contract. I was helping you out as a favor to Noah," Cassie informed him. "And where I go…so do my connections."
Sam needed no reminders that his cousin was a major pain in his ass. There was no doubt in his mind Cassie quitting on the launch was directly related to Noah Wylde breaking things off romantically between the two of them yesterday. Yes, yesterday. Sam was pretty out of touch with the small-town gossip vine, but even he'd heard abo
ut the messy, public break up last night. Bringing his cousin into the business had been at the not-so-subtle suggestion of his father and uncle, and Sam had never regretted acquiescing to their demands more.
Despite his frustrations with his cousin, Wyldefire Whiskey was still Sam's pride and joy. He and his cousin, along with a silent partner, Caleb Daughtry, had built their own distillery from the ground up and begun crafting their own brand of Tennessee whiskey. The first batch was being bottled now, and, in a few months, they'd be on liquor store shelves nationwide. He'd hired Cassie to plan their giant grand opening launch party at a swanky hotel in Nashville, only a short distance from the distillery—and Sam's hometown—in River Ridge, Tennessee. It was the last step in a massive public relations campaign for the entire brand.
"There's no one else in town who does events this large, Cassie. Especially last minute." He hated begging, but right now, he had no other choice. Cassie was an extremely well-connected socialite across the South who had come highly recommended by his PR company. He'd already put thousands of dollars into the brand's publicity, and a launch party filled with celebrities and social influencers she'd bring was supposed to be the final piece they needed to make their whiskey a household name.
"Like I said, I'm sorry," Cassie continued, zero remorse in her tone. "I'll make sure you get your check back on Monday. Have a great weekend!"
The line went dead and Sam slammed his foot against the brake, coming to a dead stop in the middle of the parking lot. His hands were clenched so tightly around the wheel, there was a good chance he'd snap it in half.
"Sonofabitch!" His anger bubbled over, exploding at no one in particular.
Disconnecting the call, he placed his foot back on the gas and turned into the next aisle of cars to look for a spot. Pulling his truck past the open spot just enough to give him room to reverse, he shifted gears and anchored his arm behind the passenger seat, looking out the rear window.
A little blue coupe turned into the spot seconds before he could. So quick, he almost missed it entirely. Are you kidding me?
Sam shifted into park right in the middle of the aisle. Shoving the door open, he hopped down from the cab and stomped around the bed of his truck toward the coupe.
"Hey!" he shouted at the driver, throwing his hands up in the air. "What the hell was that? You stole my spot!"
Sam’s next words jammed in his throat, startled for a moment when the perpetrator, a tall, slender woman with fiery hair, climbed out of the driver's seat as he approached. As angry as he was, he was first and foremost, a hot-blooded, all-American man. It was impossible not to notice her curvy figure as she crossed her arms over her chest, or the way the sun, just beginning to drift lower in the late afternoon, illuminated the varying crimson hues in her scarlet hair. She leveled intensely silver eyes at him.
Sam pushed away the distracting thoughts, trying to manage his irritation—and growing arousal. "Darlin, you parked in my spot." He tried for the nicest tone he could muster, but it still came out sounding terse.
"Looks like I did." Molten eyes, somehow both angry and intoxicating, stared back at him, unrelenting.
She's admitting it? His anger dissipated slightly, which he realized was a bit odd since the admission should have infuriated him. Something about her blatant honesty was disarming and…refreshing? Or maybe it was those soft pink lips that smirked up at the corners, that had him feeling…forgiving. "Excuse me?"
The tiniest flash of guilt crossed her expression, but she masked it quickly, firming her jaw and pushing back her shoulders. The seductive smirk returned. "I almost crashed when you cut me off pulling into the lot. Maybe if you were paying a little more attention, rather than yelling at your dashboard, you wouldn't have nearly killed me, and you wouldn't have lost your spot. Really, I'm doing you a favor. You can take a few laps around this pretty parking lot and find your inner Zen."
His mouth twitched, but he held tight, refusing to let the smile come. "So, you're…what? The karmic delivery man?"
"Woman, actually, but…yeah. I guess today I am." A black tank top hugged her gentle curves and showed off one arm full of colorful tattoos as she reached into the trunk of her car and pulled out a large cardboard box then set it on the asphalt. "Someone needs to be."
Her last words were quieter, as if to herself, but he heard them nonetheless. He noted the strain and tightness in her tone, and found himself wondering what the story was behind it.
But then she bent down. Every coherent thought fled his brain as Sam paused to admire her blue jeans molded to a firm round ass. Damn. It'd been too long. Starting a business and having his heart broken all at the same time will do that to a man.
Forcing his eyes away, Sam glanced back at his truck, resigning himself to finding another place to park. He didn't have the time to fight with this woman who was making his blood heat, in more ways than one. Plus, admittedly, he had cut her off and not even given it a second thought.
She kept her back to him, continuing to unload boxes from the trunk of her car.
"Sorry about cutting you off," Sam grumbled, though he knew she could still hear him. He didn't like apologies. He rarely gave them, but he felt caught off guard by her and didn't like it. "I'll let you have the spot this time."
She paused slightly while he spoke, but didn't look back at him. "Let me?" When she did whirl around, her hands were straight down and fists balled. "Samuel. Jed. Wylde. You didn't let me do anything. I took that spot to teach you a lesson in manners—something you're sorely lacking."
Sam raised a brow, a small smile on his lips despite the tightness in his chest. She knows me? Shit. Was she a one-night stand he'd forgotten? Another one of Noah's conquests with a vendetta for the Wylde boys now? He racked his brain, sweating when he couldn't place her.
"Honestly, I don't know why I even bothered. You haven't changed one bit." Hands on her hips now, she was shaking her head in that same disapproving manner he'd gotten most of his life. He was familiar with disappointing women, and it was one of the many reasons why he kept most of his relationships to only a night or two.
Between the sheets, he never left a woman less than completely satisfied. It was his life outside the bedroom that seemed to be the problem.
Sam let his eyes rake over her body—from her cowboy boots to her bright pink lips. How could he have forgotten those lips? "We've met before?"
She exhaled sharply, obviously annoyed. "High school."
"I don't remember anyone like you from my high school." His brows raised, and he leaned forward a little, crossing his arms over his chest in a way he knew made his biceps bulge.
Sure enough, her gaze slipped down ever so slightly, then quickly returned to his. "Well, I was a few years behind you. I was a freshman when you were a senior. Not that anyone could go to River Ridge High and not know the Wylde men."
That was certainly true. His family was often in the spotlight because of their status. Sam's grandfather had practically founded River Ridge and after his passing, the family name continued to hold a lot of prestige through his father and uncle and their children. It also didn't hurt how affluent the family was, and how their successful, decades-long cattle ranch's charitable giving kept a lot of the town afloat.
There was a lot of wealth in this little corner of Tennessee, but few families spread it around as much as his did, and Sam was proud of the reputation they'd built. That made it all the more frustrating when people seemed to prefer fixating on a few tales of misbehavior or drama, rather than who he and his family really were.
Sam let his gaze rake over her body again, enjoying the heated blush that spread to her cheeks as she realized what he was doing. Tilting his head to the side, he adopted his slow smile that he knew had a reputation of making women fall head over heels. Something about this woman made him want to…flirt? He wasn't sure where the urge was coming from, or why he wasn't trying to push it away. "Don't believe anything you heard," he teased. "They're all lies."
Her lips twitched into a smile. "I'm sure you wish they were."
She was right, of course. He wasn't a saint by any means. He'd had his brief affairs over the last couple of years, namely when he was out of town, and with women who weren't looking for more than a night or two of his time and wouldn't end up on the town gossip mill. Not a lot of sweet talking was required on those types of evenings, and he was more than fine with keeping the walls high around his heart after his heart had been ripped out and stomped on by his last relationship.
It had been a while since he'd actually flirted. Sam smiled at her again, deciding to enjoy the momentary lapse into the open, engaged suitor he'd once been. "A man can dream, Miss…"
He paused, waiting for her to fill in her name.
"Holly." She reached a hand out after a clear moment of indecision, the tension deflating between them.
Her hand was small, almost completely encased by his when his fingers closed around her palm. The feeling of enveloping her made his blood heat, the skin connecting them sizzling. He was suddenly imaging what it would be like to slide his fingers up her arm, across her tattoos and every inch of her…
Jesus, it really has been a while.
Sam pushed the thought away—he was not going down that road, particularly with anyone in a town where everyone knew everyone else's business. He'd learned that lesson the hard way already. "It's nice to see you again, Holly."
"Oh. Um…you, too." Holly's cheeks flushed and she pulled her hand back a bit slower than was necessary. He had to admit—he was a fan of her sassy Southern fire. Most women couldn't pull off being so appealing while angry, and yet, she was as soft as she was steely. "I'd chat longer, but I've got to get these centerpieces to the tables."
She gave him a tight-lipped smile, turning back to the trunk of her car and pulling out boxes.
One Night Stand: An Erotic Serial: Episode Two Page 4
