One Wild Night

by Melissa Cutler

  Sure enough, her whole body relaxed and she didn’t try to fight that smile anymore. She shook his hand. “Skye Martinez.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine, Skye. And I mean that sincerely.”

  A man could lose himself in eyes like hers—soulful and brazen, and still the dark, rich hue of the earth after a rainstorm, even in the light of day.

  “So, you’re the housekeeping boss?” he said, because while looking into those eyes, he couldn’t think of a single intelligent thing to say.

  “My mother owns the company that leases its services to the resort. I’m her second in command.”

  “You work for your mom?” No way, no how would Gentry have ever been able to endure that.

  “I know. It sounds like a nightmare for most people, and sometimes it is. I’m not going to lie. But it’s usually pretty great. And when she retires, I’ll buy her out and it’ll be mine.”

  Good for her. She was made of the right stuff to be a boss, even if she’d just broken a few of her own rules with Gentry. “I’m guessing you broke a few rules last night fraternizing with a guest.”

  “Very much so.”

  There was a lilt in her tone that almost sounded like an invitation, like she enjoyed dancing on the edges of respectability. Time to test his theory. “Then would you feel more comfortable tonight if I found us someplace nice and private to meet away from the resort?”

  She bit her bottom lip. “Not necessarily.”

  Well, well, well. Little Miss Midnight Rider got off on breaking rules. She looked honestly aroused at the moment. Her blood must have really been pumping while they flirted in front of her employees. For a man who’d started to feel like he was merely going through the motions of living, the prospect of hitching his wagon to a muse with a rebellious streak, even for a night, was exactly what the doctor ordered. “I can do that too.”

  He was brainstorming options when she looked over his shoulder and cursed.

  “What?” He turned to follow her gaze and saw a tall, young pretty-boy type in a Briscoe Ranch polo shirt walking in loping strrides toward them, his eyes on Skye and a goofy grin on his face.

  “That’s Brent from the entertainment department and I cannot deal with him right now. Or, like, ever again.”

  Gentry cracked his knuckles. “Is he harassing you? Because I have a few tricks up my sleeve to get him to stop.” Been a while since he’d tuned a guy up on behalf of a lady, but he was sure it was as easy to pick back up as riding a bicycle.

  “Uh. I wish. I’m going boy crazy, and not in a good way.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s complicated.” She looked around as though in search of a hiding spot. “Follow me,” she said, tugging his sleeve. They jogged between buildings, then ducked into an old-fashioned barn, complete with worn wooden boards and peeling white paint that looked more artfully distressed than actually weather-beaten.

  Gentry pulled the sliding door closed behind them. The air inside was dusty and warm, but the space was tidy, with rows of fresh straw bales lined up facing a stage up front as though the resort held concerts there. Actually, it was a pretty cool venue, now that he was looking around.

  Skye sank onto a bale. “Thanks. That was close.”

  “What is this place?”

  “A barn that the resort built for weddings and other events. We get lots of couples who come here specifically for a shabby-chic country wedding right in this very spot. But it’s another space I like to come to when I need a moment to myself.”

  Gentry took a seat next to her. “Yeah, about that. Why are we hiding from that clown, Brent?”

  Her shoulders sagged. “Long story.”

  “Ex-boyfriend?”

  “God no. I’ve been cursed.”

  “By that guy?” Brent didn’t look like he was old enough to shave, much less curse someone.

  “By my mother. About a month ago, she convinced me to let her help me find a man to marry, so she cast a spell on me. A love spell. Or a curse, as I’ve come to think of it.” She buried her head in her hands.

  Gentry wasn’t sure what he expected Skye to say, but that certainly wasn’t it. “A love spell? You’re joking, right?”

  She looked up again and the distress in her eyes told him loud and clear that she wasn’t. “I wish. There are men everywhere I turn now, and they’re all perfect for me on paper, except that none of them are actually right for me. In any way. That’s how I ended up in the stable last night, escaping another bad date.”

  “And there I was, invading your space. You really can’t escape us men.”

  “But see, you’re different. My mother and I set up the spell to help me find a very specific kind of man—and you’re not it.”

  “Let me guess, you wanted tall, dark, and handsome? ’Cause I’m only two of the three. Which isn’t bad, all things considered.”

  She nudged him playfully with her shoulder. “No. I’m looking for a local man, someone vanilla and kind, with a normal job, and who’s ready to settle down. And, not that it matters much to me, but if my mom with her spell gets her way, Catholic.”

  What the hell would someone as untamed as her who had a kink for breaking rules want with a vanilla guy? It didn’t add up. But she was right about one thing. “Okay, yeah, that doesn’t describe me at all.”

  She leaned in toward him, her hand on his knee. “I know. It’s wonderful.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh, it was such a crazy-ass conversation. “Wait … you’re into me because I’m nothing like what you want?”

  “I know how that sounds. But after the month of men fawning all over me and proposing marriage on the second date and all kinds of insane stuff, it’s just so … refreshing to be with a man who doesn’t want a future with me.”

  Huh. All right. Who was he to argue with that, given the promise of a night with her on the horizon?

  She leaned the rest of the way over and kissed his cheek. “And in case I hadn’t mentioned it to you yet, thank you for that. For being the break I needed from my life right now.”

  He wasn’t about to let her stop at that chaste contact and cupped her cheek, holding her face near his. She splayed her hands over his chest as he took her mouth in a hot, wet kiss that picked up right where they’d left off the night before.

  It wasn’t long before he needed more from her, more tongue, more contact, more heat. He reached his hands under her ass and hauled her up to straddle his lap, notching her thighs around his steel-hard erection. She ground her hips against him as they kissed, driving him out of his mind.

  He broke their kiss and did a quick calculation of how much time he had before the wedding. Not that much. Not nearly enough time to do to her what he wanted. A quickie would only leave them both unsatisfied. He wanted all of Skye and he wanted to make it last.

  “Call time for that wedding I’m in town for is in an hour, which doesn’t give me nearly enough time to do with you what I have in mind. I hate to do this, but we’re gonna have to wait.”

  She panted into him. Her fingers toyed with his neck as she locked her dilated, half-lidded eyes with his. “Tonight. We’ll meet in the stable again and figure out where to go from there. I want to take you on a midnight ride of another kind.”

  “Sweetheart, that’s the best damn offer this cowboy’s ever gotten.”

  He gathered her hair in his hand and tugged until her chin lifted, granting him access to her parted lips. “I’m gonna kiss you again now.”

  She arched, pressing her ass into his hand and grinding against his cock again. “Speaking of damn good offers.”

  When she aimed her lips at his, he tugged her hair again and growled, “I didn’t say on the lips.” He dove into the sweet, tender skin of her neck. Her body undulated and jerked with every lick and bite.

  The trouble was, while he was down there working his lips along her collarbone, he got to thinking of her ridiculous love spell again. What did a woman like her need a spell like that for? Any man in his r
ight mind would kill for a chance to win her hand, no magic required. Yet, here she was, hiding out from all of them in a barn with Gentry, who was definitely not the marrying kind. Never had been and never would be.

  “Something’s still rattling around in my mind,” he murmured against her throat. “I still don’t get it why, if you’re so desperate to settle down with a nice, upstanding family man that you’d cast a spell to find one, are you hooking up with a rambling man like me? I know you said it’s refreshing that I don’t want you like that, but you either want to settle down or you don’t. Am I wrong to think that?”

  Looking at her hands, she took a moment before answering. Gentry was frustrated with himself for wrecking the mood, but that was probably for the better too. He still had to shower and change into his tux. “You don’t have to answer that, you know.”

  “I know. Let’s just say that old habits die hard.”

  That he could understand. “One last thrill before you turn into someone mama can be proud of?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Guess that kind of makes me your Mardi Gras.” Lyrics to another new song exploded in his mind like fireworks. This idea gave him a whole-body shiver, a sure sign that it was going to be a hit.

  Unaware of his wandering thoughts, Skye took hold of the top button of her uniform and worked it open. “Does that mean you’ll toss a necklace to me if I show you my—”

  The creak of the barn door opening caught their attention. Skye jumped to her feet, smile gone. “That’d better not be a man.”

  Maybe there really was something to that spell, because the sound of a male voice floated through the air.

  On a weary groan, Skye took his hand and pulled him to the far corner of the room, behind a folding screen where the lighting and sound equipment was stored. The sound of footsteps on the hardwood floor echoed through the barn.

  Gentry glanced at Skye, taking note of the heat in her eyes, her red-stained, swollen lips, and the top button gaping open to reveal the smooth copper skin of her décolletage. She was so fucking sexy. He pressed a finger to his lips in a suggestion that she stay quiet. “I’ll get rid of him,” he breathed. “Don’t you dare move one muscle.” He hooked his finger on the vee opening of her shirt, right between her breasts. “I want to come back and see you just like this. Then we can get back to business.”

  “Yes, sir,” she purred.

  The words went straight to his groin. He had to do some quick thinking about mucking stalls to tame his body back down to a presentable state. Before Gentry could take more than a step around the corner, he heard a woman sniffle. Whoever the intruder was, he wasn’t alone.

  Another step, and the couple came into view. When he saw who it was, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Natalie Blevins and her soon-to-be husband Toby, sitting on a pair of hay bales near the stage, dressed in their wedding attire. Toby’s crimson bowtie had been tugged crooked and looked on the verge of coming undone. Natalie’s wedding gown fluffed up around her like marshmallow crème. The veil added to her air of innocence along with her tears. He’d known her since she was a little kid, when Neil used to bring her to work with him. She looked that way again. So young. Too young and precious to be crying on her wedding day.

  Toby was the first to spot Gentry. He wrapped a protective arm around Natalie, who looked up with a frown. “What are you doing here? Did Neil send you?” Toby said.

  “No. I’m … this is just a coincidence, trust me. Natalie? Are you okay, darlin’?”

  She started to nod, but couldn’t hold it together and broke down into a sob. “Oh God. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. What are you doing here?”

  Gentry knelt before them and took Natalie’s hand. “I think a more important question is what are you two doing here? If I recall, you’re supposed to be getting hitched in an hour or so. Did something go wrong?”

  Natalie and Toby took a long look at each other as though silently discussing whether they should share their troubles with Gentry. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. I just want to help.”

  Out of the corner of Gentry’s eyes, he watched Skye make her way to where they were. Natalie’s spine went ramrod straight as she swiped the evidence of her tears away.

  “It’s all right,” Gentry said. “This is Skye. She’s with me. She won’t tell, either. Back to what you two kids are doing in here on your wedding day looking like somebody killed your dog.”

  Toby clutched a handful of his hair. “It’s a mess out there. Natalie’s mom’s trying to take over,” Toby said. “And my parents both showed up with dates who weren’t on the guest list, so they’re at each other’s throats.”

  Skye sat on a hay bale across from the couple. Gentry eased off his knees and joined her. “Skye, this is Natalie and Toby. Natalie and Toby, this is Skye.”

  “Your date tonight?”

  He almost said no, but Skye beat him to it. “I am, yes.”

  All right. In a way, she was, he supposed.

  Skye continued, “But it sounds like this wedding isn’t going to be much fun for you.”

  “Got that right,” Natalie said with another sniff. “There are five hundred guests out there, and I maybe know a hundred of them. It’s just a sea of strangers. Strangers walking an actual red carpet that my dad set up. It’s a total circus.”

  “You looked like you were having plenty of fun last night at the bar,” Gentry ventured gently, trying to boost their moods.

  “It was all for show. To make my dad happy.”

  Gentry knew all about that when it came to Neil. Hell, when it came to just about everyone. Rarely did Gentry feel like he could be himself because so many people were always watching and analyzing his every move.

  “I didn’t want a wedding that was all about my dad, like everything else in my life,” Natalie said. “But he still managed to get his way. He turned my wedding into a media circus. He’s so busy trying to control the spin that he doesn’t care what Toby and I want. There’s a paparazzi helicopter hovering around, so he says we can’t take pictures outside because he wants to control the spin. And I heard my mom talking to my aunt that she wants to sell the official wedding photos to the highest bidder to help offset the cost.”

  “That sucks.” But Gentry wasn’t surprised. He’d known the Blevins for a long a time.

  Natalie smoothed her hands over her skirt. “I don’t care. I just want to be married and get on with our life together. All of this … I thought I wanted the fairy tale, but this doesn’t feel like a fairy tale.”

  Skye knelt before Natalie and picked a piece of hay from the dress. “You’re getting your beautiful dress dirty.”

  “I don’t care about that either. It wasn’t the dress I wanted. It was the dress my mom and my maid-of-honor insisted on. This is my mother’s dream wedding, not mine. She’s parading me around like I’m … I’m…”

  Toby set his hand over Natalie’s. “Like we’re puppets.”

  Gentry cringed at the analogy. He’d felt that way for too long. A puppet, a sell-out. “I know exactly how you feel. You have this fantasy and you think you want it more than anything else in the world, but when it becomes real, it’s not like you expect. It’s not nearly as much fun.”

  “Tell me about it,” Skye said. “That’s my life right now too. Overbearing mother and all.”

  Gentry hadn’t put that all together with Skye’s love-spell-gone-wrong, but he could see how she felt the same way. What a sorry crew the four of them were.

  “No, it’s not any fun at all,” Natalie said. “And we didn’t see a way out of it that either of our parents would accept. Five hundred people traveled here to see us get married. They’re all waiting, but it’s not right. This isn’t what I wanted for my wedding. Not even close.”

  “Me, neither. So we ditched the photographer and that’s how we ended up here,” Toby said. “We’re going to elope and get married on our own terms. We know our parents aren’t going to be happy with us, but we can’t make choi
ces about our wedding and our marriage based on our parents’ feelings or opinions. So we’re going to elope.”

  Damn. Gentry hadn’t seen that one coming. He never would have guessed it in a million years. Too bad Natalie and Toby couldn’t have figured that nugget of wisdom out a few weeks or months ago and saved their parents thousands and thousands of dollars. But Gentry wasn’t about to bring that up.

  Skye stood, her eyes shining with compassion. “We’re going to help you.”

  We’re what? Gentry couldn’t just betray his allegiance to Neil—his boss, for all intents and purposes—by helping his daughter skip out on her wedding. “We are?”

  Natalie gave Skye a watery smile of gratitude. “You are? Thank you. Thank you both.”

  Well, hell.

  “Look, all we need is a car,” Toby said. “We’ll go to the courthouse and get it done.”

  Gee, how romantic.

  Skye must have been feeling the same way because she tsked and smoothed her hands over Natalie’s dress again. “That’s no different than this circus wedding you’re running away from. Neither ceremonies are about celebrating your love the right way. You deserve better. You deserve for your wedding day to be one of the best days of your life.”

  The hope fizzled in Natalie’s expression. “It’s too late for that.”

  Neil was going to kill Gentry for this. Or worse, kill his career. Gentry was shocked by the force of his panic over that thought. Shocked that one man had the power to lord over Gentry so completely.

  Since when had Gentry gotten so afraid to take chances? Since when did Gentry Wells—Gentry Fucking Wells—bow prostrate before another man’s will, a victim of his own success? Gentry really had sold his soul for the sake of achieving his lifelong dream. Some dream that was anymore. He looked again at Natalie and Toby, the latest victims of the Neil Blevins machine.

  Screw that shit. Skye would probably be risking her job to help the couple too, but she had the courage to do the right thing, so what the hell was keeping Gentry from doing the same? Or Natalie and Toby, for that matter? Gentry stood in solidarity with Skye. “She’s right. That ain’t no way to start out your life together. What if we helped you get out of town for real so you could elope in style?”