Broken Rules: A Rescuer Romance

by Gunn, Jenna

  “Bishop asked me to help him on the car project. I was hoping to catch you before you left.” He opens the passenger door of his white Honda, “I also wanted to introduce you to Quinn.”

  I try to hide my surprise and pleasure when a young woman, dressed in a cute sundress, with purple hair laces her fingers into Cam’s. I slide out of the truck, holding my heavy belly, and walk over to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  She blushes, “I actually met you before, on the boardwalk… but I don’t think you remember me.”

  “I do.” I say, “I’m glad you two are dating again.”

  “Thank you, “She says shyly.

  Brandon shakes her hand too. “I remember you,” He says with a chuckle.

  Her eyes go wide. “I think I was using one of my lines on you to try to get you to buy cotton candy.”

  Brandon laughs and the worry on her face eases.

  I hug Cam, “Sorry to run off. But I’ve got to go. Naked models are waiting.”

  Cam frowns.

  “Art stuff…” I say. “And remember, Saturday. Don’t be late for the wedding on Christian and Maddy’s yacht.”

  He beams. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  * * *

  Saturday’s weather is perfect. The ocean is glassy calm. The sky is the brightest blue ever. And the few clouds look like little puffy cotton balls suspended in the sky.

  My white lace dress is simple and stretchy, thank god, because I swear my belly grew a lot since I bought it a month ago. Thank goodness the ladies at the maternity shop knew what to expect.

  Maddy knocks on the door and peeks her head into the master suite of the yacht. “Need any help in there?”

  “With my nerves.”

  She slides in the door, smiling gently.

  “Oh, you look so pretty.” I say.

  She twirls her pink dress around, “I’m going to pop soon if these babies get any bigger.”

  “Well, you look great.”

  She laughs. “More importantly, how are you?”

  “Excited. Nervous. Deliriously happy.”

  “Perfect. That’s exactly what you should be. Here let me tame those last few curls.”

  “It’s hopeless.” I say.

  “I know the feeling, I’m amazed my curls haven’t erupted from this clip yet.”

  I sit on the chair and turn my back to her so she can put the finishing touches on my up-do. “How’s Brandon?”

  ‘Like always—steady, calm, and solid.”

  I breathe and feel the flutters dance all the way to my toes. He is my rock, my sanity, my anchor in the storm. “That’s my man.”

  “The Archers are good men, a little hot headed, a little bull headed, but really wonderful, if you ask me.”

  “I wasn’t sure it was real at first. That a guy could be all of that.”

  She smiles like a sunbeam. “Well, dreams do come true.” Maddy leans back and looks at her handiwork. “You look stunning.”

  “Stunning is good since sexy is out of the question." I point at my very pregnant belly.

  “Girl, don’t be fooled. I’m sure Brandon thinks you are as sexy as ever. I know Christian won’t leave me alone even though I take up the whole bed.”

  We giggle for a few seconds. Then the jitters come rushing back. “I’m getting nervous.” I confess.

  “About the baby, or the wedding?”

  “All of it.”

  “Brandon will be an amazing partner. Just like Christian has been to me. He’s always ready to help me handle whatever comes our way.”

  “We’re really lucky, aren’t we?”

  She smiles, her lashes shimmer with tears. “We are.”

  There’s a soft knock on the door. Raven sticks her head in. “Oh, look at your two. Getting all misty eyed. Come on out before you ruin your mascara.”

  I laugh, “No mascara to ruin here.”

  “It’s time.” Maddy offers me her hand. I take a big breath. Wow. This is really about to happen.”

  My other soon to be sister has on a pretty burgundy dress which covers her high, round, pregnant belly. We’re soon to be three Archer wives with four babies on the way.

  Raven hands me a bouquet, a dozen deep red roses tied with a simple white satin ribbon. Brandon picked it out, because I couldn’t make up my mind. The bold red shade of the flowers and the neat round shape of the design are such perfect representations of his love, passionate and succinct.

  She rests her hand on my shoulder. “This is so exciting, sister-in-law to be.” She pecks a quick kiss to my cheek.

  “I’m gaining a whole lot of family.”

  Maddy laughs, “That you are, did you ever imagine having four new brothers and two new sisters in a single day?”

  My eyes go wide. “I never thought of it that way. That’s a lot to take in!”

  Raven raises her brows, “Alright, your man is waiting. Shall we?”

  I nod nervously, “Okay, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  She guides me out into the narrow hall before she says, “Wait here. I’ll tell them to begin.”

  Raven and Maddy disappear through the salon, and out onto the back deck of the big boat.

  I bounce around on my toes. My eyes wide, my heart pounding.

  Soft music floats to me from the violinist. The notes are so sweet and perfect as I begin the walk to meet the man of my dreams.

  When I step into the sunshine, he steals my breath.

  This is real.

  I’m getting married to Brandon Archer. Wow.

  He has to be the most handsome groom ever.

  His white linen shirt skims perfectly over his strong shoulders. The tan cords of his forearms show beneath the folded cuffs. His dark grey linen pants hug his narrow hips and skim over his strong thighs.

  That’s all wonderful, but it’s the look on his strong, handsome face that sends my pulse really tripping.

  His expression is calm and sure and filled with knowing.

  God, I am the luckiest woman in the world.

  I float on a cloud to him. He takes my hand and kisses the back of my fingers.

  His beautiful blue eyes shimmer with emotion. I hardly even see the people around us.

  I know who boarded the boat with us. All five brothers are here, Dad Archer, my brother, his girlfriend Quinn, and Raven and Maddy too. And of course Mave, who’s already been entertaining the family with her outlandish humor.

  We’re surrounded with love and happiness, and I can hardly keep my feet on the deck of the boat.

  I’m staring at Brandon all gaga when Christian, the brother who’s officiating, nudges me. “It’s your turn.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I giggle. “I was just lost in those blue eyes again.”

  Brandon grins and tugs me toward him.

  “It’s not time for that yet,” Christian grumbles.

  “We’re rule breakers.” Brandon says, as he kisses me.

  Everyone laughs.

  “Get on with it,’" Brandon murmurs to Christian as he sets me back on my tiptoes.

  I barely hear the instructions.

  My tongue gets all tied up on my vows. But I don’t care one bit.

  Suddenly I can’t hold back my tears as Brandon recites his vows. Then he slides a ring on my finger that matches his.

  And it’s official. I’m Mrs. Brandon Archer.

  I couldn’t be happier.

  “You may now officially kiss your bride,” Pronounces Christian.

  Brandon whoops, and dips me back over his arm as he lays a powerful mind-melting kiss on me. I laugh and cry right through it.

  The whole crowd bursts into cheers.

  He tips me back upright. Even though I’m a little dizzy, a little off kilter by the sway of the boat, and a lot love drunk, everything in the world is just right.

  ______

  If you loved this book be sure to check out Boss Rules- Book 1 in the Archer Brothers Series.

  Sneak Peak- Boss
Rules

  Bringer of earth shattering O’s.

  Yesterday my one night stand. Today my off-limits Boss..

  It was supposed to be my dream job.

  Ocean rescuer on the highly respected Southern California team.

  But he happened.

  A few hours ago Bryce Archer wasn’t my boss.

  Or my anything for that matter.

  He was a one night indulgence.

  One that left my voice shredded and my body in withdrawal.

  It’s a dumpster fire in the making.

  One that might leave me knocked up, broken hearted, with my dreams in tatters.

  Chapter 1

  The lady at the ticket office said the train was almost full and wished me good luck. That’s never a good sign.

  I pass by dozens of faces along the narrow aisle, most of which are buried in some kind of screen. A few glance my direction with sympathetic expressions. Yeah, I’m that girl. The one who was late. The one that can’t find a seat.

  I finally see an empty place three rows from the very back. There’s a man in the aisle seat but the window seat appears to be vacant.

  “Excuse me, is that seat taken?”

  Please let it be open because I have no clue what to do—oh wow—

  The gaze that swings my way draws me up short. My breath catches somewhere around my heart.

  The man’s Caribbean turquoise eyes are as clear as fine crystal and set in the kind of perfectly rugged male face that makes you forget your name.

  Or worship his name.

  He grins, reducing me to an unblinking stare and a very inappropriate gasp. “I guess it is now.” His voice is deep, like a mysterious, sensuous tendril of smoke that reaches right out to me, curling its way into my very core.

  “Uh.” I clear my throat. The crazy beating in my chest—like a wild stampede—makes me waver. I clutch the seat-back, he watches me with humor dancing in those incredible pools of blue.

  Great.

  I’m just standing here like an idiot, swaying on my feet at the mere sound of his voice. “Okay then,” I mumble as I clutch my shoulder bag across my chest, hoping to keep my pitiful attempts at breathing hidden.

  The man nods his head of buzz-cut hair and rises to let me into the window seat. My eyes follow him up.

  And up.

  At least six and a half feet up.

  The edge of a seat presses into my back as I try to give him room, but there’s nowhere to go. We’re really close—I feel his body heat pouring out of him, unrestrained by the thin cotton of his shirt.

  I’m fully aware he’s all hard planes and long limbs, barely separated from me by his pale grey t-shirt and a pair of palm leaf board shorts.

  He smells like the ocean.

  Welcome to California.

  This ain’t Texas anymore—where men are far more likely to strut around in designer western jeans, shiny boots, and collared button-down shirts.

  I could get used to this. It’s a lot more fun seeing all that muscle and tanned skin.

  There’s barely enough room to wiggle past the giant of a man, but I manage. A surge of heat flashes up my body and sets my face on fire like a match tossed on gasoline.

  Smoke alarms might start going off any second.

  I look anywhere but at him as he settles his massive collection of hard, sculpted muscles into the seat next to me.

  Hot. Hot. Hot.

  His broad shoulder brushes me as I take my seat. “Excuse me for invading your half,” he murmurs in his panty-melting baritone.

  Breathe girl. In. Out.

  Fainting from pure lust would be the ultimate self-respect killer. But I swear, I feel like I’ve been caught in a tornado on a cloudless, sunny summer day.

  I do not fawn over men like some teenage girl—

  I’m a grown woman, for heaven’s sake.

  Must be the exhaustion—moving two thousand miles would do that to anyone.

  Fanning myself, I try for an ounce of composure.

  I feel his eyes on me as he comments, “Nice day for a train ride along the coast.”

  “Perfect out there, but in here, it’s as hot as the hinges of Hell’s gate,” I grumble, fanning myself. So this is what an egg would feel like on hot pavement on an August day.

  Watching my red-faced show, he laughs a low chuckle. “Is that a Texas drawl I hear? Ten bucks if you’re not a SoCal girl.”

  “Guess I owe you a ten.”

  “How about a beer instead?”

  Well, well. Mr. Beautiful is flirty too.

  He watches me wallow in my discomfort, which is more than a little obvious from the beads of sweat breaking out on my brow and the fact that I’m tugging at the collar of my t-shirt like I’ve got fire ants in there.

  “Easy, girl, you look like you need a cold beer now. I thought Texas was hot. You’d think California would be cool by comparison.” He fans me with the magazine in his hand.

  Embarrassed, I mumble, “Well, who woulda known.”

  Yeah, who woulda known I’d lose control of my hormones like a cowboy that dropped the reins of a startled horse.

  Out of nowhere, there’s a sudden jolt.

  Lord, is that an earthquake?

  Eeek! It happens again, and I grab his arm by accident instead of the armrest. The train lurches forward; all that jiggling was just the thing rumbling to life.

  Jerking my hand back from his sizzling skin, I wipe my palm on my thigh.

  I sigh in relief.

  Not the big one that all the Californians talk about.

  But hey—if the “big one” did hit, at least I could hold on to him!

  “Jumpy much?”

  “I’m not used to trains. Or earthquakes for that matter.”

  I realize the only “big one” in proximity at the moment is the one he’s probably carrying around between his legs.

  Trying to gain my composure and dignity back, I grumble, “I’m normally not like this.” Pinning him with a glare, I insinuate that it’s his fault.

  That smile. Those eyes…

  “Glad to know I have that effect.” He flips open his magazine and folds one of his long legs across the other, taking up the whole damn row.

  “Pfft.” Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. I swear, the man’s as cocky as a rooster at dawn. I can tell already.

  The train rambles away from the station and emerges up onto a bluff, overlooking the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean.

  With my face glued to the window like a little kid, I gawk in delight.

  It’s more beautiful than I expected. It’s been years since I visited the beach here, but obviously, my memories were a poor snapshot. I’m really happy I bought the train ticket—my treat to celebrate a new beginning.

  The Coaster train skims along the coast in Southern California, a sort of commuter and tourist train all mish-mashed into one. It gives you a damned fine view of the beach and the little towns along the way, according to their Tripadvisor page.

  The scenery gets an “A” from me already.

  Both inside the train and outside. But I won’t say that in my review on the travel site. It’s my secret.

  Stealing glances, I check out the fine specimen of Californian male that’s pretty much taking up all my personal space, casually reading the news.

  Lord almighty.

  This man is all sun-kissed and, oh my god, is that…is that the scent of the ocean on him?

  He’s my kryptonite, and I didn’t even know I had kryptonite.

  He definitely smells like the ocean and some kind of clean, masculine soap, like cedar or something yummy.

  Fighting the urge to draw in a deep breath, I jam my face into my bag, looking for anything to occupy myself with. When I come up empty-handed, I turn back to the landscape, praying I don’t melt into a puddle of lust right here on this pleather train seat.

  When we round a big corner, whizzing along, I catch sight of beautiful palms, dancing sunlight, and crashing waves. Gasping a litt
le, I can’t hide the wonder in my voice, “Oh! That’s incredible.”

  I feel a shift of weight next to me, a crumple of paper. Then he’s leaning into me as he also checks out the view. I can feel his chest pressed against my shoulder as he angles for a view.

  “Pretty spot. I work close to that place. I take it you’ve never taken a ride on The Coaster before?”

  “Nope, I just got to town. But this ride’s got my vote so far, that’s for sure.”

  He settles back into his seat, and when I dare look his way again, his hand is extended. I stare at it for a second before I gather the nerve to put my hand in his, knowing it’s a damned slippery slope. Touch him, and I might just orgasm on the spot.

  “Bryce Archer,” he says as he accepts my palm. “Welcome to California, officially.” His cocky, sexy as sin grin melts my palm against his like cheese melts on toast.

  “I’m Ray,” I say in return. With a smile, I add, “I think I might like this place.”

  When I draw my hand back, I jam it under my leg. Heat throbs and sizzles up my arm.

  That warm, rugged hand of his will be burned into my mind for a long, long time.

  “Where are you heading, Ray?”

  “San Diego and back.”

  “Just out for a ride?”

  The way he says ride…it’s drawn out like there’s way more meaning behind it than a simple train trip.

  Yeah, I’d like to take him for a ride—a breathless, name-screaming, all-night ride.

  “Just out to enjoy the scenery,” I say with a grin, feeling a little daring. What’s it hurt to flirt with him?

  Flashing his killer baby blues at me, he asks, “Like what you see?”

  My tongue dances across my aching lower lip. “Yeah, I do.” There’s no denying it. I’ve got a thing for him, already.

  Try as I might, I can’t figure out why I’d feel so fired up for a perfect stranger who obviously knows he’s the stuff of fantasies.

  Must be the salt air.

  I’m not a fall on your face for a hottie kind of girl. But this one is the kind of man who wrecks your ideals. The kind that makes you leave the bar with the bad boy you know will leave your legs bowed and dignity in tatters.