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A Shot of Sultry

Page 27

by Macy Beckett


  He didn’t expect her to say, “Our story isn’t over.” While he stood rooted to the pavement, she inched forward and cleared her throat. “Sex in the Sticks needs a happy ending.”

  A happy ending? Could that mean—no, he was too afraid to think it. He couldn’t get his hopes up. “More drama for the show?” he asked, squeezing his own biceps for strength. “Is that what you’re after?”

  She shook her head and swallowed so hard her throat bobbed. When she opened her mouth to speak, it took a few tries before she managed to choke out, “I love you. I’m your pot, and you’re my lid, and I love you.”

  His lungs filled with a thousand fluttering moths. Did she mean it? Closing his eyes, he asked God for a quick favor. Please let her mean it. Please. I’ll never ask for anything, ever again—not even for the Cubs to win the World Series. Okay, well, maybe he’d still ask for that, but nothing else. For good measure, he promised not to touch Bobbi until their wedding night, even if it took years to get her to the altar. Please let her love me.

  ***

  Bobbi’s pulse sprinted painfully inside her veins as she tried to read Trey’s guarded expression. He closed his eyes as if the sight of her might turn him into a pillar of salt. Was she too late? Had she hurt him too deeply? Or worse yet, had he moved on with another woman?

  She’d felt so emboldened on the way over, but seeing him now, transformed into this fierce warrior in black—armed to the teeth and clearly angry with her for coming—her courage began to wane. Bong made an encouraging keep going motion with his free hand, but what could she say to change Trey’s mind?

  “I’m sorry,” she offered, figuring it was a good place to start. “I’m sorry I let you think our relationship didn’t mean anything to me. It did. I loved you, and I didn’t want you to go. But I couldn’t let you stay in Sultry Springs and miss your chance to start over.”

  He opened his eyes and stared at her a long moment before answering. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

  “Because you were so adamant about staying.” She splayed her hands, pleading for understanding. “You didn’t trust me to wait for you.”

  He unfolded his muscled arms and gripped his waist. “Trust’s got nothing to do with it. When you find the love of your life, you don’t wanna wait two years to start living it.”

  “The love of your life?” Her tummy quivered, and she dared another step, moving close enough to savor Trey’s scent. It was all she could do not to bury her nose at the base of his throat and breathe him in. “Does that mean you don’t hate me?”

  His stoic mask fell, blue fire flickering behind his gaze. “How could you even say that?”

  “Because I hurt you—”

  “Dammit, Bo, come here.” Before she had time to gasp, he’d snaked one arm around her waist and yanked her hard against him. She smacked a solid wall of Kevlar with an oof, but wasted no time in locking her fingers behind his neck.

  Their lips met in a fierce kiss that went from zero to blazing in under a second. His tongue darted inside her, tasting and claiming her, while the rough pads of his fingertips branded each exposed inch of her face. He nipped and suckled her lips until they throbbed, but it still wasn’t enough. She could spend hours absorbing his sweetness and never feel sated.

  Abruptly, he broke the kiss and tipped their foreheads together. “This isn’t the States,” he reminded her.

  “Right,” she panted, fighting for her oxygen. Like it or not, they’d committed to spending the next couple of years in a country that banned public displays of affection. She’d respect the culture, even if she disagreed with it. “Still love me?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Completely.”

  “Do you have to live in your boss’s house?”

  “No. Why? Looking for a roommate?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am. But if we’re going to live together here, we should probably get married. I’m pretty sure it’s a crime otherwise. We don’t want to wind up in a foreign prison, do we?”

  His eyes went wide, mouth spread into a smile that tugged both dimples to the surface of his cheeks. “Is that a proposal, Bo Peep?”

  “I guess it is.”

  “Don’t you wanna go home? To Inglewood or Sultry Springs? I’ll follow you anywhere.”

  “No way.” Rising to her tiptoes, she straightened his black beret. “I’ve got important work to do right here in Dubai.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “My new project for Garry Goldblatt, Sinful Saudi Nights. I’ll be shooting drunk heiresses while they stumble around making idiots of themselves.” In the privacy of their all-inclusive resorts, of course. Garry had loved the idea so much, he’d offered a bonus so Bobbi could film a documentary on the side—on civilian contractors. But unlike Derek’s project, hers would focus on the positive.

  Trey pulled back and searched her face. “But you hate making that trash.”

  “Not as much as I love you.” She held up one hand and smiled into his sea-blue eyes. “So, when’re you going to put a ring on this finger?”

  He glanced at the camera and lowered his mouth to her ear. “The sooner the better,” he whispered, “because I’m not givin’ it up until you make an honest man out of me.”

  “Well, then,” she said, “lucky for us, I happen to know a licensed minister.” Years ago, Bong had become ordained through the Mother Earth Commune of Sunshine and Light. “You free tonight?”

  “I get off at six.” Trey took her cheeks between his delightfully rough palms. “But you’re marrying into a hot mess of a family. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  She brushed her thumb across the bruise her brother had left near Trey’s ear. Her family tree had a few gnarled branches too. “It’s okay. If they give us a hard time, we’ll just start one of our own.”

  “What do you say we spend a few years practicing first?”

  Bobbi pulled off his beret and ran her fingers through his cropped hair. By the end of the day, this Adonis would belong to her, and she to him. They’d share life’s triumphs and trials, spend each night in the refuge of each other’s arms. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve such a blessing, but she’d spend the rest of her days making Trey deliriously happy.

  Motioning to the silk covering her hair, she whispered, “I’d say I brought lots of scarves, and I can’t wait to use them.”

  “I like the way you think, darlin’.” He tapped one finger against her temple, then used it to tip her chin upward. “I love you, Bo. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you.”

  “I love you too, Golden Boy.” She rested one hand over his Kevlar-covered heart, imagining its strong and steady beat. “And we’re going to take care of each other.” Turning to face the camera, she smiled with all the joy in her soul, not the least bit ashamed. She glanced at the tear-streaked faces of her beaming crew and announced, “That’s a wrap!”

  About the Author

  Macy Beckett is an unrepentant escapist who left teaching to write hot and humorous romances. No offense to her former students, but her new career is way more fun! She lives just outside Cincinnati in the appropriately named town of Loveland, Ohio, with her husband and three children.

  For sneak peeks and giveaways, please visit her on the Web at macybeckett.com, and don’t forget to say “hello” on Facebook, Goodreads, and Twitter.

  Available in August, Colton’s story:

  Surrender to Sultry

  Leah McMahon is back in Sultry Springs, Texas, to help her dad recover from surgery. But there’s a new sheriff in town and he’s none other than Colton Bea, the wild-as-weeds boy who stole her heart a decade earlier. Colt’s a changed man now, and the feelings between these high school sweethearts are stronger than ever. But Leah’s got a secret so devastating that he may never forgive her. Can she find a way to earn absolution and build a future with the Sultry man she’s l
oved half her life?

 

 

 


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