Wild Girl: A Cowboy Romance Trilogy (Wild Men Texas Book 3)

by Melissa Belle

The reverend bows, but before he can continue, my father stands up.

  “That’s enough,” he says. “I was going to wait until after my daughter had her moment, but it looks like some things have a timeline of their own.”

  He walks to the altar and asks Reverend Sands to step aside. And then, in a strong voice and with his head held high, my father tells the truth. The whole truth. About himself and his mistakes, and the way he hurt his wife and his children and even the women he hooked up with in the past.

  He tells the town what Logan did for the woman he loved and how my father wishes that someday he could hope to be half the man his about-to-be son-in-law already is.

  “Holy. Cowherd Whiskey,” Blake says loudly from behind Logan. “That’s a good dang reason for your crazy summer, Wild.” He slaps Logan on the back.

  Mr. Wild is crying by the time Daddy finishes his confession. The entire chapel stands and applauds when Mama rises from her pew, puts her arm around Daddy, and leads him back to the front row.

  I catch Skip’s eye, and he winks at me.

  I smile back at him.

  Now that the whole Gigi situation is out of the way, the reverend turns serious. I pull at my bonnet one last time, swearing to myself I can handle the itchiness for the next thirty minutes.

  Logan’s gaze goes to my hand on the strings of the bonnet. And Reverend Sands has just started the service when Logan interrupts him.

  “Sorry, but I need a minute with my fiancée.”

  The gasps through the chapel are deafening.

  “Is he going to back out?” Mrs. Rattles screeches. “Again?”

  “Is he having cold feet?” someone else shouts.

  Logan puts his arm firmly around me and turns us until our backs are to the crowd.

  “Here’s the thing, baby,” he says in a low voice. “I’m not Darcy, and you’re not Elizabeth.”

  “But you’re my real-life Mr. Darcy.” I squeeze his arm. “This is better than the romantic stories I read about my whole life.”

  He takes my hand and kisses it. “And you outdo any fantasy I’ve ever had, hands down. But our love story is no fairy tale. It’s flawed, and the road’s been bumpy, and it’s not for the faint of heart. It’s real. Like us.”

  Holy Jane Austen.

  He’s freaking right.

  For the first time since I put on my dress today, I completely relax.

  I look up until my gaze meets his. “So even if you are my Mr. Darcy symbolically, you’re not Mr. Darcy. And I’m not Ms. Bennet. You’re my Logan Wild, and I’m your Macey Henwood.”

  “Exactly. So can we ditch the hat and bonnet?” he asks me. “I’ll wear it if you really want me to. But you look like you’re about to rip yours off your head, and I don’t think we need them. I think they’re holding us back.”

  I’m already untying the irritating knot of the strap under my chin. In less than five seconds, the bonnet’s in my hand, and I turn and toss it into the crowd.

  People scream, my mother loudest of all, when the bonnet drops right into her lap.

  “Macey, no! You finally met your Mr. Darcy,” she shouts. “Don’t throw it all away! You need the bonnet and hat on your heads, or else you and Logan can’t be the soul mates!”

  Logan’s cowboy hat sails through the air right after. It lands at Skip’s feet.

  Skip laughs. “I think these two might be the only ones who know what they’re doing. They’re writing their own love story, not following somebody else’s. Wasn’t that the real point behind Jane Austen’s novels?”

  Mama glares at him as the whole room says in unison, “Skip, shut up.”

  I wink at Skip as Logan and I turn back to Reverend Sands.

  “We’re all set,” Logan says to him. “Please continue.”

  Reverend Sands hustles along quite nicely, and before I know it, Logan and I are exchanging our rings.

  I smile up at Logan as I slide the bull ring onto his finger and am surprised at the wetness on his cheeks.

  “It looks good,” I say to him softly.

  “Perfect,” he says.

  Reverend Sands pronounces us husband and wife, and he cheers along with everyone else when Logan picks me up off the ground and kisses me silly.

  Mama cries, and Mrs. Rattles complains loudly about her terrible luck in losing her daughter’s July fourth wedding date to a man who stole her day and then switched brides.

  We face the crowd as Reverend Sands says, “Best wishes to the newlyweds!”

  A loud meow follows, and Mr. Bingley comes out of his hiding place and brushes past my legs. I pick him up in one hand and keep my other hand tight in Logan’s.

  But before we can take even one step down the aisle, Logan’s father calls out, “Bull!! He broke free! Holy cripes—we’ve got to get him!”

  He jumps out of his seat and runs down the aisle ahead of us.

  “Somebody help him!” Daddy yells. “That’s his bull on the loose!”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  My father points out the window at the bull running on the wrong side of the fenced field by The Cowherd.

  Blake, Logan, and his three brothers are down the aisle faster than I can blink.

  Mr. Bingley sails out of my arms and heads for the safety of his bed as the entire place goes into a frenzy and everyone storms the front door.

  The photographers and reporters are the first out after the Wild boys, and Skip starts shouting. “We need a photo! Bull breaks free from his pen! Awesome headline!”

  I walk outside with Ginny, and we stand on the porch and watch as the bull keeps moving.

  “Oooh, look Macey!” She gestures to Logan galloping by on horseback with Blake, Reid, Ty, and Jesse close behind on their own horses.

  And yeah, all five guys look hot as hell.

  “What are they going to do?” Skip asks me as he cowers beneath the porch awning.

  “They’re gonna rope him,” I say.

  “Cool.” Skip looks at me in newfound awe. “So your husband really is a cowboy.”

  My husband.

  “He was always a cowboy.” I smile as Logan rides close to the bull’s head and forces him left so Blake and Reid can lasso him. They bring him inside the fence, and Mr. Wild calls out to them to take the bull further back to a different field until he can fix the broken gate.

  “Let’s follow them on the outside of the field so we can get some more photos,” Skip calls out.

  Everyone takes off after him like a huge wave. I lose Ginny in the crowd and decide to circle back alone to The Cowherd.

  When I get inside, I stand in the chapel for a few minutes by myself, enjoying the emptiness and the silence. I remember Logan and me saying our vows up on the altar, and I look down at my ring and exhale happily. It’s not too tight, it’s not too heavy, and I don’t want to rip it off my finger and drown it in the toilet.

  I leave the chapel and wander into the saloon where I walk behind the bar and glance at Vivian’s diary. I wonder if it will stay locked up in the museum forever after tonight. I climb up on the counter to take out my purse from the closed cabinet where Mama hid it for me during the ceremony, and then I pick up an untouched glass of Loganiskey off the counter.

  “So unsanitary,” I hear as the door opens.

  I whip around and laugh as Logan advances on me from across the room.

  He climbs up onto the counter, pulls me into his arms, and kisses me.

  “How’d you get back here before everyone else?” I ask him as he takes off his suit coat and wipes sweat off his forehead. “Last I saw, you were on the back of a horse playing hero.”

  “I told my brothers I had a hot date at the bar.” He grins and takes the glass from me. “And I never got my pre-wedding drink. Come on. Let’s go somewhere private.”

  He takes my hand in his free one and we walk down the hall toward the liquor room. As we approach the half-closed door—

  Bang!

  I freeze and look at Logan.

  “Th
at sounds like somebody’s in there,” I say.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Stay here.” Logan puts his hand on my arm.

  “Are you kidding me? Of course I’m not gonna stay back…”

  I push past him to look inside the liquor room. Mr. Bingley is safe in his bed, relaxed as can be, and—

  Cell Number One is wide open.

  I clutch Logan’s hand.

  “What the fuck…” He rubs his eyes and then looks again.

  I walk closer to the jail cell.

  “Oh, my.”

  A blooming cactus flower is growing right in the center of the cement floor.

  Logan drops his drink in the doorway, and it splatters everywhere.

  I turn my head. And that’s when I see her. Through the large round window behind my desk—

  A white form is heading toward the sky.

  She stops briefly, and I swear she waves at us. I wave back and she’s gone from view.

  Logan and I don’t speak for over a minute.

  “Holy shit,” he finally says. “That was weird, right? Did we just see Jane Austen’s ghost? And why did it all kind of make sense?”

  “People are going to go crazy when they come back inside and see this.”

  “So let’s get out of here.”

  I grab his shirt in my fists and kiss him. “You’re such a romantic underneath it all.”

  “With you I am. I’m not sure about the rest of it.” He looks toward the hallway. “Did you hear that?”

  Stomping feet echo louder and louder.

  “They’re coming back inside,” he says.

  “But everyone’s supposed to go to the square for the fireworks.”

  “They must have decided to stop back for drinks first.” He takes my arm. “Let’s sneak out. We’ll hide out in my cottage for the night until the town calms down.”

  I look around, wishing for the millionth time in my life that this room had a side door. My eyes land on the round window over my desk.

  Logan helps me unlock the pane from its rusty hinges, and he pushes me out the opening to the burnt-out brushy lawn and climbs out right behind me. I hear a weird jingling in my purse as I hit the ground, but before I can figure out what it is, Logan grabs my hand.

  “Let’s cut through the ranch. It’s a lot faster.”

  As soon as we step inside Logan’s cottage, I shut and lock the door and he draws the blinds. He turns on the stove light, just enough for us to see by.

  And the weight of what just happened hits me.

  “So today is Independence Day,” I say slowly as I remember the words from Vivian’s diary. “And we opened our hearts to each other, and we exchanged vows in marriage.”

  Logan leans against the counter and smiles. “Keep going. I know you have this whole thing memorized.”

  “You have cattle roots, and shoot—Mama was right after all! I do have a drop of British blood from my mother!”

  A grin takes over his face as he enjoys watching me crack my mystery, the one I’ve been so intertwined with since I was born.

  I keep thinking aloud. “The same blood, the same blood, what would that be?”

  “Could be our tattoos?” he suggests. “Like symbolic blood.”

  “That’s it! And we were at the lake on the West Street side, and I thought that West clue was surely about Gigi, but I guess it wasn’t. Then, Mama and I found another clue—how the soul mates have to embody the true natures of Darcy and Elizabeth. I assumed that was you and Gigi because of how the town had christened you guys.”

  “It was me,” he says slowly. “Me and you.”

  I stare at him as I remember what Skip had said when Logan and I were on the altar. “Skip did say to me that you and I symbolize true love in the way we care for each other unselfishly. Oh, I just can’t believe…I mean, do you think there really was a spell and our love for each other broke the curse and set Jane Austen’s ghost free?”

  Logan shakes his head. “You know, everything inside of me wants to say no and tell you you’re crazy because I’ve always hated that damn town legend, but I can’t. I can’t say what just happened didn’t happen. Because it did. Which is really crazy.”

  “So Jane Austen must have waited for the right man even in the afterlife and she’s flying to him now. When they were ripped apart, she never gave up on love. And now they’re together again, forever.” I exhale. “I’m glad we didn’t miss out on the here and now.”

  “Me too.”

  I hop up onto the counter, letting my legs dangle over the side.

  “You hungry?” Logan asks me. “I can cook us something.”

  “Actually, you know what I think we need to do?” I say flirtatiously.

  He steps closer to me. “What’s that?”

  “I think we need to consummate our marriage. Again.” I hook my legs around his waist and pull him toward the counter, then wrap my thighs around him to keep him close. “Because we divorced after that consummation. So let’s reconsummate. Like right now.”

  “If we learned nothing in Vegas, marriage is made official once you have sex.” Logan unzips my dress and trails his lips from my mouth to my jaw.

  “Yes,” I say as I pull off his tie. “Very true. Very important step.”

  He nibbles my neck. “And now I get to finally take this dress off you like I’ve been wanting to do since I first saw you in it.”

  “Dancing with Mama in the bridal salon?” I exhale as he pulls the fabric down my body.

  “Yes. But let’s not mention your mother again right now.”

  I wrap my arms around his shoulders while he touches my bare skin. Then, he kisses my breast. And sucks on my nipple until I moan.

  Logan pulls his head up and looks into my eyes. “You’re my wife. And I’m your husband. Does that feel real to you yet?”

  I unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders so I can run my nails over his chest until he groans.

  “Only in the best way. Real used to be a bad word in my world.”

  “Mine too.”

  “But with you…”

  I unhook his belt, and he helps me push his pants down. Then, his boxers. Then, my hands go around him, and all I hear are his sighs in my hair.

  “With me what?”

  He moves his head, and his mouth closes over my nipple again as his hands slide my panties off my hips.

  I hold my breath as he touches me right where I need him between my thighs. And then I stammer out, “With you it feels right. Not a fantasy but actually better.”

  He slides his finger inside me, and I grip his shoulders tightly.

  “We’ll still have fights.” He kisses my lips. “We’ll still drive each other crazy.” He kisses my neck. “But we’ll never stop working at it.” A longer kiss on my mouth. “And we’ll never walk away again.”

  I shift back so I can look at him before I glance over at my purse sitting about five feet away on the table.

  Logan turns his head in the direction I’m looking. “I’ll go get a condom,” he offers.

  I shake my head. “Don’t.”

  “I thought you weren’t on the pill anymore.”

  “I’m not.”

  He straightens up purposefully, and his eyes grow intensely focused.

  He cocks his head slightly. “You’re saying…”

  “Yes,” I say, and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. But only if we’re on the same page.”

  He brings his cheek next to mine and kisses my face softly. “We’re always on the same page. I can’t wait to start a family with you.”

  A long while later, we finally leave the kitchen and stumble into Logan’s bed, exhausted.

  “Still haven’t made love in a bed,” he says as we climb beneath the sheets.

  “That’s for tomorrow,” I say. “I love you.”

  “I love you more.”

  We stay up for hours talking about the past, all of it, and all the times we
were sure, and all the times we weren’t. And all of it’s finally okay.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The next morning I roll my naked self over and reach for a naked Logan.

  He opens his eyes and kisses my wrist. Then, he kisses it again. And pulls my arm awkwardly right up to his eyeballs.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I say.

  “Sorry. But you’ve got to look at this.”

  He thrusts my arm at my face now.

  “Logan, seriously, don’t you know it’s rude to just take somebody’s body part and shove it around like it’s not attached to them…”

  “Look at your scar.” His voice has an odd urgency to the tone.

  I turn my wrist over. And now I’m pressing my wrist up to my eyeballs.

  Because—

  My scar is gone.

  Gone.

  “This is so weird.” I look at the smooth skin on my wrist. “Jesus. That’s just not normal.”

  “I’m giving up on normal at this point.” Logan sits up. “Why don’t we…”

  I move to show him my wrist again.

  “Seriously, look.” I push my arm at his face.

  He laughs and tries to shift away. “Now who’s shoving body parts at people?”

  “Vivian said, ‘If she can remove the bars that close her heart from knowing its true match...’ I thought it was Jane behind bars, you know? Jane’s heart. Mama thought so, too. But it was also mine, wasn’t it? My heart was closed, and once I opened it, I realized you were my true match.”

  I shake my wrist at Logan again and then start to climb on top of him.

  But there’s that jingling sound from last night. Now it’s beneath me somewhere.

  “What the hell?” I say. “I’m going to figure out what’s making that freaking noise.”

  I reach down to the bottom of the bed where my dress and Logan’s suit were tossed into a pile, and I uncover my purse. When I pick it up, the jingling gets louder.

  “Your keys?” Logan suggests.

  “No. They don’t make that sound. The only thing I’ve ever heard make that sound before is…” I have my hand inside the left front pocket now, and I cry out when my fingers close around an object and I recognize the shape I know so well.