by Sara Orwig
“I did no such thing. I told him you might be marrying the wrong man.” She laughed as her brother sputtered and tried to tell her what he had said to Jared. Finally he just gave up and offered his congratulations.
“Thanks. After all, I think this is all your doing.”
“It is definitely not my doing,” Sloan insisted. “Jared has never done one thing he didn’t want to since he got out of school.”
“Not so,” Jared said. “Thanks, Sloan. I did listen to what you told me.”
“Good deal,” Sloan said. “Allison, I’ll let you tell the girls. Here’s Virginia.”
“Virginia, sweetie,” Allison said, “I’m getting married. I want you to come to my wedding.”
Virginia began to screech, and Allison held the phone at arm’s length. “I think she’s happy.”
Leah came on the phone next. “Allison, congratulations to you and Jared.” The screeching in the background became louder. “Both girls are so excited, and Jake is just yelling because they are. They’re thrilled, and so are we.”
“Thank you. I’ll call you tomorrow when things are calmer. ’Bye for now,” she said, breaking the noisy connection. She turned to Jared. “Well, the girls are happy. Now you have nieces and a family—so much more, Jared.”
“I’m still astounded this has happened to me. You’ve been upsetting my routine life since the night I ran into you at that wedding reception.”
“Have I really?” she asked with great innocence. “You live such a mundane, routine life.”
“If someone had told me when I was sixteen years old that I would someday marry Sloan’s bratty little sister, I probably would have run away from home and never seen Sloan again. What a scary thought that would have been then.”
“At that age, I thought you were kind of cute, but awfully old. I do recall once getting you squarely in the face with a snowball.”
“I’ve always said you have a naughty streak in you that comes out in lots of different ways.”
“Do I really now?” she asked in a sultry voice, running her hand over her hip and licking her lips.
“Yes, you do, and I love it,” he said, pulling her into his arms to kiss her.
Epilogue
In early May, Allison stood with her arm linked with her father’s as the bridesmaids walked down the aisle. “You look so beautiful, Allison,” Herman said, kissing her cheek, and she smiled at him.
“Thank you, Dad.”
“I wish your mother could see you.”
She smiled at him again and patted his arm.
“I’m happy for you and Jared. Be good to him, honey. He’s really in love with you.”
“Maybe you’d better tell him to be good to me,” she teased.
“He will be. I hope you’re as happy as your mother and I were.”
“I hope so, too, Dad.”
“I’m proud of you and Sloan. You’ve been great children, both of you.”
“Thanks,” she said. She looked at the bridal party, their dresses all a pale blue. The flower girls, Virginia and Megan, looked adorable as they held baskets that contained rose petals. Virginia, with instructions to hang on to Megan, held her little sister’s hand. Leah was matron of honor with Allison’s closest friends as bridesmaids. Jared had chosen Sloan as best man, with Ryan Delaney and some other friends as groomsmen. But it was the groom who captured Allison’s gaze.
“It’s time,” the wedding planner said. The wedding march began and the guests all stood, turning toward her. She began the slow walk down the aisle. She could see nothing but Jared. Looking incredibly handsome, he stood there quietly, his eyes on her. She smiled as she walked toward him to become his wife. She felt as if she might burst with joy. When her father placed her hand in Jared’s, she looked up at the man she was about to marry. He smiled and squeezed her hand lightly.
They repeated vows, said prayers, listened to solos and then Jared slipped a gold band on her finger against the dazzling diamond engagement ring. Finally they were introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Jared Weston. She walked back up the aisle on the arm of her husband.
Afterward at the country club, the reception was filled with guests. Allison stood in a large circle talking to the Delaneys. She barely knew the eldest Delaney couple, William and Ava. They had a beautiful little girl with them, Caroline. Zach and Emma, who was expecting, were with them along with Ryan, looking dashing in his black tux and black boots. Garrett and Sophia Cantrell were there, too, and Allison knew Sophia was a Delaney. Jared seemed to be enjoying the conversation, but occasionally he would glance at her, and then she felt shut away with him, as if the crowd had ceased to exist.
Later she danced with Ryan who smiled at her. “Jared told me he’s giving up bull riding. I suspect I have you to thank for clearing the way for me to win a little more often than I have in the past.”
She laughed. “You’re welcome. You might not owe me that thank-you, though. It was getting time he quit anyway.”
“Suits me just fine. You look beautiful, Mrs. Weston.”
“Thank you.”
“And Jared looks happier than I’ve ever seen him look. I wish both of you the best.”
“Another thank you, Ryan.”
The dance ended, and she turned to see Phillip approaching. As Ryan left, Phillip stepped up. “So may I have this dance?”
“Of course. I saw you at your table but haven’t had a chance to speak to you,” she said, dancing with him.
“I congratulated Jared. You look beautiful today.”
“Thank you, Phillip. Did you bring a guest with you?”
His smile widened. “I did. Her name is Ginger, and I want you to meet her. Allison, I think it was better for both of us that you never accepted my marriage proposals. We might have had a wonderful union, but you’re radiant today. One look at you and Jared and there’s no question you have so much more than you and I would have had. And I think I may have found someone.”
“I’m glad, Phillip.”
She danced with him and when the dance ended, Jared appeared to take her into his arms. “You are the most beautiful bride ever.”
“I doubt you’ve paid any attention to brides in the past,” she said, laughing.
“Maybe not, but you are definitely the most beautiful.”
As they danced away, she told him, “Jared, Phillip has found someone, too. He said it was best for both of us that I never accepted.”
“I have to agree with him.” Jared spun her in time to the music. “I see your brother watching us. Has he danced with you yet?”
“Not yet.”
“I think that’s what’s on his mind. He’ll feel obligated. Since Sloan got married, he has all these family things he thinks he should do. I hope my new brother-in-law doesn’t drive me crazy.”
“You’ve known him all your life, and he’s not going to really be very different.”
“How long before we can leave and I can have you all to myself?”
“I’d say maybe three hours.”
“Seriously? I may grab you and run before three hours are up.”
She smiled. “I don’t think there will be any resistance on my part.”
“Aah, that’s my Allison.” The dance ended. “Here he comes. And be ready—we’ll make a run for it in another hour.”
“Hour and a half would be halfway respectful and friendly to our guests.”
“It’s a date, darlin’. I’m counting the minutes, Mrs. Weston.”
“Jared, I love you.”
He winked at her and turned to Sloan. “My new brother-in-law. If I had thought I was getting you for a relative in this deal, I might not have gone through with it.”
“Don’t kid me. It’s one of the perks for you. Now you won’t have to pay me a co
mmission on deals I find for you.”
“I didn’t think of that. Maybe that will offset having to put up with you and your worrying.”
“I worried you two into marriage, so be grateful. I came to dance with my sister.”
She smiled and took his hand. “I don’t think we’ve done this since I was about five years old. That was the last time you were nice to me when we were kids. By the time I was six, you were already giving me grief.”
Sloan laughed as they both joined the other people dancing.
It was almost an hour and a half later when Allison couldn’t spot Jared in the main ballroom. She walked around, talking to guests. As she passed a door to the hallway, she felt a hand reach in and circle her wrist. Smiling she stepped into the hall.
“Let’s go,” Jared said, a devilish smile on his face.
“I haven’t tossed my bridal bouquet.”
“I told Sloan to get Leah to throw it. She was matron of honor, so she’s the next best thing.” He took the bouquet and placed it on a chair. “She’ll find it.”
Laughing, Allison took his hand and they raced outside, climbing into a waiting limo that had the motor running.
As they drove away, he closed the partition between them and the driver, and then pulled her into his arms to kiss her.
* * *
Later that night, they entered a villa in the Cayman Islands. He carried her over the threshold and set her on her feet.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said, gazing up at him.
“The most gorgeous view in the world is right here,” he said, smiling at her. “Allison, you’ve made me the happiest man in the world. Why did I ever think I wanted to spend my time struggling up a frozen mountain instead of being with you? You were right.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, and I hope you always do. I’ll just try to avoid watching some of the scary things you do.”
“In the meantime, I have some other activities in mind. Ah, darlin’, I love you.”
“And I love you, my handsome husband,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on tiptoe to kiss him. Joy spread throughout her, and she felt filled to overflowing with love for her new husband. “Jared,” she whispered, “may our life together always be this grand and our love stronger as the years go by.”
“Darlin’, I love you with my whole heart.”
Joyously she returned to kissing him, blissful in her hours-old marriage, loving this wonderful man who had vowed to love her.
* * * * *
If you loved Jared and Allison’s story, don’t miss a single novel in LONE STAR LEGACY, a Texas-set series from USA TODAY bestselling author Sara Orwig:
RELENTLESS PURSUIT
THE RELUCTANT HEIRESS
MIDNIGHT UNDER THE MISTLETOE
ONE TEXAS NIGHT...
All available now from Harlequin Desire!
Keep reading for an excerpt from EXPECTING A BOLTON BABY by Sarah M. Anderson.
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One
What was Stella doing right now?
For the hundredth time this week, Bobby asked himself that question. And the answer was still the same.
He didn’t know. But he wished he did.
Maybe he should have tried harder to get her number after that wild night at the club. Yeah, he should have. But Bobby Bolton didn’t chase women. He enjoyed their company—usually for the evening, occasionally for a weekend—and that was that. He didn’t do long-term, didn’t do “relationships.” Everyone had a good time and parted as friends. That was the way he’d always interacted with the opposite sex.
Until that night two months ago when he’d met Stella.
The last night he’d felt as if he had the world in the palm of his hand.
FreeFall, the TV network that had bought his reality show, The Bolton Biker Boys, had hosted a behind-the-velvet-rope party to celebrate the upcoming season. It was the sort of event Bobby lived for—glamorous people in a glamorous setting.
But even as he’d been doing some serious schmoozing, the woman sitting at the corner of the bar caught his eye. She’d had a sense of style that marked her as different—instead of too tight or too short, she’d had on a long-sleeved dress covered in leather straps and buckles that was completely backless. The outfit demanded attention, but the woman wearing it had been alone, her gaze trained on the crowd.
He hadn’t known who she was when he’d bought her a drink. She’d told Bobby she was a fashion designer, but she hadn’t mentioned her last name. She’d enchanted him with her outrageous sense of style, soft British accent and distance from the rest of the crowd. She’d been a woman apart—except for him. They’d talked as if they were the oldest of friends, every joke an inside one only they found funny. He’d been unable to resist her.
Which must have been how they’d wound up in the back of a limo with a bottle of champagne and a couple of condoms.
It was only afterward, when he’d asked for her number, that she’d dropped the bomb. She was actually Stella Caine, only daughter of David Caine—owner of FreeFall TV, distributor for Bobby’s reality show, majority investor in Bobby’s new resort and one of the most notoriously conservative men in the world.
He’d felt as if the rug had been pulled out from under his feet. How could he not have known who she was? How could he have done something so stupid? What would happen when she told her father?
David Caine would ruin him, that’s what, and everything he’d worked for would be gone.
Even after revealing her identity, she hadn’t given Bobby her number. Just a kiss on the cheek and an “It’s better this way,” leaving Bobby to wonder, Better for who?
And that had been the last he’d heard from her. He hadn’t been called on the carpet by David Caine for corrupting his daughter. He hadn’t received any calls or texts from Stella. He had nothing to remember her by, except a picture.
And the memories.
Just then one of the production assistants, Vicky, said, “We got the shot,” shaking him out of his thoughts. “Anything else?”
Right. Bobby wasn’t in New York. He was filming his show for FreeFall TV in South Dakota. And Stella Caine had made it clear that she didn’t want anything from him beyond their one-night stand. He needed to stop thinking about her and focus on the job at hand.
And what a job it was.
“I think that’s it for today,” Bobby told Vicky as he looked around the narrow trailer that was his office and, most days, his home.
It was four on Friday afternoon in the middle of November, the setting sun already cloaking everything in winter gray. The construction workers had packed up for the day. Vicky and her film crew, Villainy Productions, had stayed later to get a couple shots of Bobby sitting at his desk, looking overwhelmed.
He had not done a lot of acting today.
What the hell was his problem? This was everything he’d ever wanted. His reality show had debuted on FreeFall with impressive numbers. The production contract he’d signed with FreeFall had underwritten half the financing he needed to begin building Crazy Horse Resort, which was being filmed for the show.
Ten miles outside of Sturgis, South Dakota, the Crazy Horse Resort was going to be the upscale destination for weekend bikers—the doctors, stockbrokers and lawyers who made money hand over fist during the week and liked to cut loose in motorcycle leathers on the weekend. It’d be a five-star destination resort, complete with spa, shopping, three restaurants, a nightclub and a Crazy Horse boutique and garage so guests could upgrade their ride or buy a new one. It was the perfect synergy of business form and function and would turn Crazy Horse into a total lifestyle brand.
The reality show, featuring not only the construction of the resort but his family and their business, was also feeding a huge sales boom for his brother Billy’s custom-made choppers. Crazy Horse Choppers was now an international brand with a loyal following among both celebrities and hard-core bikers, and Bobby was still the marketing director.
He had worked for years to get to this point. He was rich, famous and powerful. All of his dreams had come true. By all objective standards, he was a success.
So why the hell did he feel so...unsure?
Hours after everyone else had gone home, he sat at his desk, which was wedged against one wall of the construction trailer. The sales numbers for Crazy Horse were up on his computer screen, but he wasn’t looking at them. Maybe I’m just tired, he thought, trying to get his eyes to focus. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been home.
Instead of sleeping on his California king bed with Egyptian cotton sheets, he’d been spending nights on the trailer’s couch. Instead of cooking in his condo’s gourmet kitchen, the one with marble countertops, he’d been using a hot plate, coffeepot and microwave. And instead of enjoying his Whirlpool-jet tub, he’d been making do with the trailer’s closet-size bathroom. His days had become a blur of coffee, construction, cameras. Hell, he hadn’t even made a business trip since he’d been to New York—two months ago.
