Ten Brides for Ten Hot Guys

Home > Other > Ten Brides for Ten Hot Guys > Page 80
Ten Brides for Ten Hot Guys Page 80

by Donna Fasano


  The Candy Bar was back open to business, and Billy and Jake had their hands full. All the old regulars were back, and people were leaving Dominique’s and fighting to get inside Candy’s door. Place was so popular they had to hire a bouncer, who kept an eye out for trouble and managed crowd control.

  So, if you ever get down to South Beach, take a moment and look around. You might see the Candy Bar right there in front of you, beckoning you in. Don’t be shy. Waltz right in and get a piece of your own magic.

  And have a drink on me.

  A Note from the Author

  Thank you for reading FOR THE LOVE OF CANDY, the fourth and final book in my Candy Bar romantic comedy series. If you enjoyed this book, I’d appreciate it if you’d help others find it so they can enjoy it too. Please recommend and review it.

  About the Author

  Patrice Wilton is a USA Today bestselling Author. She has written over twenty novels and is currently working on a new series.

  Contact

  If you’d like to sign up for Patrice Wilton’s newsletter to receive

  new release information, please visit www.patricewilton.com

  contact .html#newsletter.

  You can follow Patrice Wilton on Facebook or on Twitter.

  Book updates can be found at www.patricewilton.com.

  I would love to hear from you at [email protected].

  Other Books by Patrice Wilton

  SERENDIPITY FALLS SERIES

  CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE 4 BOOK BOX SET

  KISS ME SANTA

  A MAN FOR HIRE

  Nightfall

  An Off-World Series Novella

  Rebecca York

  Copyright © 2013 by:

  Ruth Glick

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  This book was built at IndieWrites.com. Visit us on Facebook.

  Acknowledgements

  I want to particularly thank my long-time critique group, The Columbia Writer’s Workshop, and my husband. Not only does he suffer the ups and downs of living with a full-time writer, he is also the best copy editor in the world and my travel director who plans the trips that are so important to my research. And, of course, I must thank my fans who have made my long writing career possible.

  Praise and Awards

  New York Times and USA Today best-selling Author Two-time Rita finalist in the prestigious RWA writing contest

  Recipient of two RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Awards

  Recipient of the RWA Centennial Award

  Prism Award winner

  Affaire de Coeur Critics Choice Award for Contemporary Novel

  “Rebecca York delivers page-turning suspense.”

  ~ Nora Roberts

  “(Her) books …deliver what they promise: excitement, mystery, romance.”

  ~ Michael Dirda, Washington Post Book World

  Chapter 1

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “Nothing,” Caleb Raider snapped.

  “You’ve watched enough porn vids to know what you’re doing.”

  Caleb slicked back his dark hair. He’d washed it when he’d taken a shower, but maybe he should have cut it before coming to the spaceport. He gave his friend Jed Stevens a hard look. “That’s all you think it’s about? The stuff they do in porn vids?”

  Jed made a snorting noise. “What else is there?”

  “Plenty.”

  “Like what?”

  “If I knew I wouldn’t be worried about it.”

  “So you are worried.”

  “And you’re not?”

  Jed looked down at his scuffed syntho boots. “Maybe a little.” He jerked his gaze back to Caleb. “You’re one of the most successful homesteaders of this generation on Palomar. When your dad discovered that catborn mine on your property, you were set for life. Any woman would give her eyeteeth to have you.”

  “Listen, my dad died in one of those damn tunnels trying to scrape the stuff out of the ground.”

  “You’re still working the mine.”

  “Because the money’s good, but I could go in there one day and not come out.”

  “Stop thinking of worst-case scenarios.”

  “I have to,” Caleb answered, and he wasn’t necessarily referring to the tunnels in the catborn mine.

  When Jed scratched his crotch, Caleb made a disparaging sound. “Women don’t like to see a guy touching himself down there.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I . . . read the material they gave us. Didn’t you?”

  “I thumbed through it.”

  “Well it looks like you didn’t read the lists of don’ts. Don’t hawk and spit on the ground. Don’t whizz against a wall in town. Don’t fart.”

  “If there’s a fart up your ass, it comes out.”

  Caleb sighed. “Ease it out.”

  He and Jed had known each other for twenty years, since before the plague of ‘83 on Centorus. They’d been ten years old when their mothers had both been taken away to die in one of the hospital tents set up in the fields around Souter City. The plague had hit women harder than men, but because they’d been in a household where someone had gone under, they were quarantined. And when three weeks passed and they were all still alive, their fathers had been given a choice. Stay on decimated Centorus or make a fresh start on Palomar, a planet the Federation had recently opened for colonization.

  Although the atmosphere and gravity were Earth-like, the rough, unfinished place held a host of known and unknown dangers. Opting for caution, the authorities were sending only men. Both dads had decided to go and take their young sons.

  The colonists who arrived at the new capital city of Listerville hadn’t known that they were part of an experiment. Send men, and see if they survived. And if they could tame the planet, the next step would be to let them enjoy normal man-woman relationships.

  Which was now.

  Well, one ship of brides had landed a couple of weeks earlier, and the previous lottery winners had whisked their gals off to their farmsteads.

  Caleb’s hand unconsciously went to the beamer in the holster fixed to the utility belt at his waist. There had been some unfortunate incidents at the spaceport last time. Still, he was following the law. In town, your weapon was set to stun, not to kill.

  Both Caleb and Jed had won brides on the second shipment coming in. They’d listed their preferences, and the Office of Planetary Management had made the selections. They’d gotten holios and brief descriptions of the women who’d been assigned to them. And either party could terminate the arrangement within the first year if they thought it wasn’t working out.

  Caleb’s gal was named Beka Gunnarsen. And as far as he could tell from the holio, she was blond and pretty, with a delicate nose and mouth and large blue eyes. But why did she want to live on a farmstead in the middle of nowhere on Palomar? And was she even equipped to do it? At least the place had running water now. With the profits from the mine and selling his prized horses to homesteaders around the planet, he’d had the money to drill a well and outfit a septic system. But what was she going to think when she found out that the house was heated with solar panels, supplemented by a wood stove, and that there were only a few battery-powered lights—in addition to the oil lamps.

  That hadn’t been true back on Centorus. They’d lived in a modern city with all the standard amenities. You could go into a grocery depot and buy small packages of various foods any time you wanted. And there were other stores stocked with clothing or entertainment units you didn’t have to order in advance. Kids went to school and came home every day instead of spending months at the central ed complex, then getting the rest of their lessons over the comms units when they were needed at home for planting and harvest.

  Caleb was hoping he didn’t come across like an uneducated outworlder living in an animal pen. When he’d been told h
e was one of the lucky lottery winners, he’d gone on a shopping rampage, paying speed delivery charges for stuff like rugs, soft sheets, premium-quality toilet tissue, soap that didn’t burn your skin, and other stuff he thought a woman would appreciate.

  He stopped worrying about toilet tissue when an announcement came over the public-address system.

  “Attention, men who are here to meet wives. The shuttle from the mother ship has landed. Proceed immediately to bay three.”

  The two friends glanced at each other.

  Caleb swallowed. “This is it.”

  “Yeah, good luck buddy.”

  “You, too.”

  He and the other twenty-four lucky guys headed for the landing bay. As they walked, Caleb stifled the urge to cup his hand over his nose and mouth and smell his breath.

  The little ship was already inside the bay area when they arrived, but the door was still closed.

  As he and the other men jostled for a good view, Caleb tried to see them from the eyes of a bride just arriving on a strange planet.

  The guys all wore rough clothing, long-sleeved shirts, jackets, baggy pants held up by suspenders. Some had beards. Others, like him, had shaved. But all of them looked pretty scruffy, compared to men he’d seen on vids shot on more civilized planets.

  Betraying their jitters, some of the husbands-to-be were talking and joking. But a hush fell over the crowd as the door of the ship opened.

  The first person out was a man, which earned a round of boos from the waiting Palomarians.

  Then a woman followed him, walking slowly and gripping a carry bag slung over her shoulder.

  She was dressed in standard-issue trousers, a short coat that hid her upper body, and boots. At least they’d issued her suitable clothing for the climate and conditions. As she walked slowly down the three steps, all eyes focused on her. Caleb felt his heart start to race. She was blond, but he didn’t think it was Beka.

  More women followed, and he anxiously studied each face. What if she wasn’t here? What if she’d changed her mind?

  And then he saw her, looking scared and determined and fragile.

  Damn. He hadn’t been able to tell her size and physique from the holio. Even dressed for the backcountry, she hardly looked like she was going to survive a night on the homestead.

  oOo

  Beka Gunnarsen stared out at the crowd of men, all of them focused on her and the other women coming down the ramp into a totally unfamiliar environment. They were a scruffy lot, like characters in one of the historical dramas called Westerns that she’d seen on the amusement system back home.

  Stop thinking about home, she ordered herself. It didn’t exist for her, not any more. She’d been in a bad situation, one it had been impossible to escape on Elmen. But when she’d heard about the bride program for some of the planets that had been settled by men only, she’d known it was her best shot at getting away.

  She’d made her preparations in secret, including the medical exam where they’d made sure she was prime breeding material. And the travel permit where she got away with fudging her background.

  Now she was wondering if she’d been crazy to sign up. But at least she’d grown up on a farm before she’d run away to Mitchell City. She knew something about raising plants and animals, and she gathered from reading about Palomar that this was SOP on the homesteads.

  She’d spotted Caleb Raider at the same time he focused on her. As their eyes locked, she felt a jolt of fear. She was going off with him to the outlands, fate knew how many klicks from the spaceport, where he could do any damn thing he wanted with her. She ordered herself not to think about stuff like that as she studied him. He was well built, tall and fit, with a shock of unruly dark hair, and she couldn’t stop her mind from zinging back to the disadvantages of those qualities. He could hurt her out there if he wanted. Had she jumped from the frying pan into the fire?

  She hoped not, and as she stared at him, she decided he didn’t have that mean-around-the-eyes look that she’d grown to fear.

  He’d been frozen in place as he spotted her. Suddenly he moved, pushing his way through the crowd toward her. He wore a sidearm like he buckled it on every morning when he got dressed, and he walked confidently, but she sensed that the self-assurance was for this familiar environment. Below the surface, he looked as nervous as she felt. Which was a relief.

  When they were finally face to face, he swallowed hard before asking. “Beka?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m glad to meet you.”

  “Same.”

  They stood less than a meter apart, two strangers who were going to get to know each other a whole lot better. Or not.

  Movement around her caught her eye and she turned to see some of the men pulling their new brides into their arms like they’d known each other for years. Caleb stood stiffly, still three paces from her, eyeing the carry bag slung over her shoulder. “That’s not all your stuff, is it?”

  “No. I have a small crate in the cargo hold. I think they’re unloading now.”

  “I can bring the hauler around.”

  “Or you could meet me outside the gate.”

  “Not a good idea,” he said flatly.

  “Why not?”

  “There were some incidents when the first bride ship landed.”

  She kept her gaze steady, waiting for him to explain.

  “Some guys were angry that they didn’t come up at the top of the list. They tried to snatch themselves a wife.”

  She shuddered. “Is there a lot of crime on Palomar?”

  “Probably more than where you came from.”

  Maybe not, she thought, but she saw no advantage in disagreeing.

  He waited with her while she collected her crate, a pretty small storage container for everything she owned. Or what she’d been able to scoop up quickly on her way out the door. Nothing fancy. Mostly rough clothes and things that might be useful on a frontier planet.

  “Stay inside the gate. I’ll be back to get you in a minute. My hauler’s red with a yellow stripe.”

  She watched him stride off, focusing on his broad shoulders and his long arms swinging easily at his sides. She knew almost nothing about him except what he’d written on the groom application, and she couldn’t help being worried about the next few hours. Or the next few days, come to that. So far he’d been okay here in town, but what about when they got to his homestead?

  Other women were also gathered near the gate. And some were still with their men, waiting for their luggage.

  She’d gotten to know Kenna O’Brien on the month-long trip from the space station that was the collection point for colonists to the outer worlds. They’d talked about what they hoped for on Palomar, and now they drew together as they waited for their men to return.

  “What’s your guy like?” Kenna murmured.

  “I don’t know much yet. But a little rough around the edges.”

  “Mine, too.”

  “I wonder if they’d let us talk over the comms units.”

  “I hope so.”

  Focused on each other, they didn’t see one of the baggage jockeys edging up on them, until Beka felt a large hand close around her arm.

  When she tried to jerk away, the hand tightened painfully, holding her in place.

  “Jerry, don’t be a plague-sucking fool,” someone called out, but nobody moved to get any closer.

  “Just take it easy, and nobody’s gonna get hurt,” the man who held her growled.

  Fear bubbled inside Beka, but also determination. She didn’t know Caleb Raider well, but she’d sensed the good in him. This man was different, and she was not going to let him change her destiny.

  Chapter 2

  Other guys had already retrieved their haulers from the parking area reserved for the new husbands. Caleb got stuck in a line of vehicles and had to wait his turn to stop at the gate. Nervously he drummed his hands on the steering lever. The sooner he could get airborne and fly Beka away from the chaos aroun
d the spaceport, the better.

  When he finally pulled up at the gate, he jumped out and started for the place where he’d left her. As the scene in front of him registered, his heart skipped a beat, then began to pound in double time.

  A luggage jockey was standing behind Beka, one hand on her arm, pulling her back against his body. In his other hand was a beamer, pointed toward the crowd. The man had a wide-brimmed hat pulled down over his face, partially hiding his features, but Caleb knew who he was. Jerry Costa, devil weed take him, one of the guys who hung around the spaceport making a hardscrabble living from pickup work. He’d started off like everyone else, with a homestead. But he’d done a crappy job of managing his property. After his stock had died and his crops had failed two years in a row, he was forced to give his acreage back to the company that had financed the settlement of Palomar. Since then he’d been a town rat. What did he think he was going to do now, take Beka to the hovel where he lived? Or did he have some hidey-hole nobody knew about?

  As Costa held Beka like a hostage, he looked around, his gaze challenging.

  “Back away,” he growled, “Before somebody gets hurt.”

  Most people took a step back, probably figuring his beamer was illegally set to kill. And why get yourself drilled trying to save someone else’s gal?

  The blood had drained from Beka’s face. And her eyes had grown large as they darted around the retreating spectators. When she finally spotted Caleb pushing his way through the crowd, he saw a look of relief flood her features.

  Silently, she mouthed his name.

 

‹ Prev