Hurricane Bride

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Hurricane Bride Page 7

by Beth Williamson


  “She’s on the rebound.”

  “Maybe but we like each other.”

  “She needs to come home.”

  Boyd narrowed his gaze. “You heard her, she is home. She found herself here and wants to stay. I have huge respect for her, and I wouldn’t do a thing to hurt her, but I also know the choice is hers to stay or go.”

  “She’s stubborn like the rest of us, and she sticks with something even if it’s the wrong thing.” Kyle tapped the table with a blunt fingertip. “Richard Crowder was the wrongest thing ever, but she wouldn’t listen.”

  “I’m not talking about her without her being here to speak for herself.”

  Kyle nodded tightly. “I expect she would insist on it.”

  Boyd sipped at his coffee. “But I’ll say this, she’s special to me, and I could love her easily if she lets me.”

  Claire walked back in the kitchen clutching a letter with sad, watery eyes. Boyd got to his feet at the same time Kyle did. When Boyd opened his arms and she ran to him. She buried her face in his shoulder and shuddered.

  “Poor Amber.” She looked up at him. “I want to go to Texas to see her.”

  Boyd’s heart dropped. He didn’t dare look at Kyle and give the man the satisfaction of knowing Claire was doing exactly what he wanted.

  He kissed her temple. “You do what your heart tells you to, honey.”

  “We can leave now and catch a flight.” Kyle was so helpful. Damn him.

  Claire’s fingers dug into his back. “Tomorrow. I need time to pack and make sure Pearl is all set. Since it’s the middle of the week, there aren’t any guests for a couple days. I can be back by Friday.”

  Inside, Boyd was raising both fists in the air. He rubbed her back without saying a word. She would go, but she would come back.

  She raised her face to look at him, her brown eyes brimming with sadness. “Will you come with me?”

  *

  Tomorrow, Claire would fly home to see her family for the first time since the failed wedding. She’d been hiding out at first, but then she’d settled into the Peach Bellini and found where she belonged. Kyle’s news about Amber reminded her that she needed to consider her family and friends. Her self-pity had faded, but the world outside of the bed and breakfast was important, too.

  Amber had gone through hell, and Claire hadn’t been there for her. Apparently, everyone assumed Claire was drowning in self-pity and couldn’t handle any emotional upsets. Little did they know, she had gotten over her heartache and found the person she truly was.

  And then there was Boyd.

  He didn’t pressure her or try to control her. No, he let her make her own decisions, deferring to her like she was an adult. A man who respected her was welcome in her life. He was also a good, genuine man who touched her heart. She could love him if she let herself. It was too early to commit that deeply, but deep inside, the flame was already burning bright.

  She finished the dishes and hung up the towel beside the sink. Pearl and Manny were long since relaxing in their private apartment at the front of the bed and breakfast. Kyle had disappeared after supper, and Boyd went to take care of the horses for her. He’d even made arrangements with a friend to take care of the mares while they were gone for a few days.

  “I never expected to find you living with a different man.” Kyle’s voice was loud in the quiet of the big kitchen.

  “I’m not living with him. We both work here and live in the cottage.” She turned to face her intense brother. “Besides, at twenty-five, I think I can make my own decisions. Unless you want me to start judging whom you’re with.”

  Kyle frowned. “It’s different.”

  “Why? We’re twins, and I’m five minutes older, so I should be the one telling you what to do, right?” She was pleased to see his frown deepen. “Just because I have boobs doesn’t mean I need to be on a lead rope.”

  “I reckon that’s fair enough.” He crossed his arms. “What do you know about this Boyd anyway?”

  “I know he’s a good man who’s worked here for five years. He makes choices in life that make no sense to others but are the right ones for him. I know I like him, a lot. He makes me feel like me instead of trying to make me into something I’m not.” She pulled Kyle’s arms open and hugged him. He patted her back and gave her a brief hug before setting her away from him. Kyle had always struggled with physical affection, and she was the only person who could sneak a hug from him.

  “Then I’ll take your lead on this. Does he know he’s heading into a nest of Blackwoods who will rake him over the coals?” Kyle seemed to enjoy the idea, a smile twitching his normally stiff lips.

  “No one is raking anyone over the coals. I’m visiting Amber and our family, and Boyd is there as my friend and because I need him. I want everyone to meet him because he’s become important to me.” She waited while Kyle digested that. “I hope you can be my brother and not my protector.”

  He grimaced. “It’s hard not to protect you, but I’ll do my best.”

  Relief rushed through her. She needed Kyle’s support. “Thank you. I’m gonna go pack and shower before bed. Our flight’s early, so we’ll need to leave before the sun.”

  “Good night then.” He surprised her by kissing her forehead.

  Claire headed out the back door to the cottage. Her heart was light, floating with the kind of happiness she didn’t expect to be feeling a month after being a failed hurricane bride.

  When she entered the cottage, Boyd was at the island in the kitchen. He smiled at her and everything in her smiled back. She’d made the right choice this time.

  “I’m packing a few snacks for the trip.” He held up a plastic bag. “Those granola bars you like, and fruit snacks.”

  She sauntered toward him, her body thrumming with instant arousal. “Perhaps you can make sure I’m prepared in other ways.”

  His brows went up and he smiled. “You have something in mind?

  “Perhaps a shower? We can save water.” She reached for the buttons on her blouse. “I feel the need to, ah, scrub up.”

  He pulled her close, pressing his already-burgeoning erection against her soft belly. Shivers ran through her. Had it only been the night before that they’d found pleasure in her bed? It seemed like forever ago.

  Boyd kissed her, nipping and lapping at her lips. Her nipples popped against her bra, eager for his talented mouth. She walked him toward the bathroom, never losing contact with him.

  He stopped and frowned. “Your brother isn’t gonna knock on the door, is he?”

  She chuckled. “Nope. We’re alone for the next eight hours.”

  “Thank God.” He scooped her up and, once again, she squealed. Claire’s heart beat a steady rhythm, and it spoke Boyd’s name.

  He turned the water on and they undressed as quickly as they could. The bright lights of the bathroom reminded her that her body wasn’t ideal, that her curves weren’t model perfect. An attack of shyness had her jumping into the shower.

  Boyd poked his head in and his gaze raked her up and down. Twice. “Jesus, lord have mercy, you are beautiful.”

  In that moment, she became the beautiful woman he saw, and her shyness blew away like a feather on the wind. He climbed in and pulled her into his arms until the hot spray of water.

  Emotions clogged her throat and threatened to overwhelm her. He seemed to sense her mood, because he simply held her.

  “You okay, honey?”

  She pulled back, grateful the water hid the tears she’d shed. Not tears of sadness but ones of joy. “I am now.”

  He kissed her and backed her against the tiled wall. When he lifted her onto his arms, she spread her legs, wrapping them around his hips. To her surprise, he already had a condom on and pressed against her pussy.

  “You’re ready.”

  He touched her clit and she moaned. “So are you.”

  She clutched at his shoulders for purchase as he slid slowly inside her. Claire had never had sex in a shower, but it had
its advantages. The heat from the two of them and the water chased away any chill. The slick tiles behind her allowed her to move with him, to find his rhythm.

  “Mine,” he whispered when he was deep within.

  She pulled him even closer. “Mine.”

  As he thrust into her welcoming warmth, the emotions she’d been struggling with let loose. To be with Boyd was the right path for her, and she would let herself love him. She hadn’t expected him in her life, but now he was here, and she was so very grateful to have found him. Who knew that being a hurricane bride would bring her on such a journey?

  Claire had found where she belonged and the man she belonged with.

  Read on for the next in the Magnolias and Moonshine Sizzle books…

  Moon Over Atlanta

  Magnolias and Moonshine

  by

  Kymber Morgan

  Chapter One

  “You know what your problem is? You sat on your ass too long. You need to burn off some steam.”

  Ryan Sheridan snorted at his traveling companion as he lifted the empty longneck in his hand and waved it in the air. “What do you think I’m doing?” He turned away, setting it on the counter of his RV kitchen with one hand and reached for the fridge with the other. “In fact, I think I’ll have another. See. Problem solved.”

  “Hardly, pup.”

  Ryan shot a warning glare at Zander before letting the insult and the innuendo behind it slide. He’d taken this final gig because Irvine Tyrone, the man who’d given Ryan his first break as a wrangler in the movie business, specifically asked for him on this project. It had nothing to do with the noose tightening around his neck at home.

  Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

  Ryan shook off that unpleasant thought. “Don’t know what your problem is, Zander, but this works for me.” He rarely indulged in one, let alone more, but damn if the cold brew didn’t taste good after four days on the road. It was also doing a bang-up job cutting through the wall of humid heat that had greeted them upon arrival earlier.

  Montana born and bred, Ryan wasn’t used to temperatures this high in May. Besides, the additional booze might help him get a good night’s sleep for a change.

  Zander’s growl seemed to vibrate through the patio-hauler’s frame. “Fine, then quit being a cheap bastard and grab me one too.”

  Snagging a second one off the shelf, Ryan hip-checked the door closed with a grin. Setting the beverages down, he opened the top-hinged cupboard above the fridge, comforted by the perpetual squeak from the hydraulic hinges. “Fine, but do you think you can manage not get it all over yourself and the floor this time.” He grabbed a bowl and swatted the cabinet door, slamming it shut with a muted bang.

  “Bite me.”

  Ryan barked out a laugh as he came around to Zander’s side of the surprisingly large island and set the bowl down in front of his one-time mentor. “No thanks. That’s your thing, old man, not mine.” He twisted the top off the beer and poured it into the bowl. “I’ll stick with opposable thumbs over teeth, at least until the next full moon. Then we’ll talk.” He lifted his drink to his lips and took a long satisfying pull.

  Zander made quick work of the bowl’s contents then lifted his face and licked the foam from his mouth, missing as much as he got, resulting in several dribbles on the floor. He stretched his muzzle into the closest thing to a grin he could manage. “Who are you calling old. You’re just jealous because I can kick your puppy ass on all but those three days of the month, and on those…we’re even.”

  Ryan picked the dish up and tossed a towel over Zander’s head. “Yeah? We’ll see who’s laughing tomorrow, smart guy. Keep mouthing off and I’ll make you wish I’d brought Gus or Trixie instead.”

  Zander grumbled as he shook the towel off and went to work rubbing his face on it. “Yeah right, as if you’d pick one of them over me for this one. Particularly since it’s based on one of those trashy books you think I don’t know about.”

  Ryan blamed the heat flushing his face on the thermometer as he yanked the towel away and wiped up the floor, before tossing the soggy mess into the sink. “First, how would you know if they’re trashy; you’ve never read one. Second, I don’t give a shit what you think you know. And finally, why the hell wouldn’t I bring one of them instead of your annoying self?”

  “Ha! First, let’s not forget the opposable thumb thing. How the hell would I hold it? And even if I could, I wouldn’t get caught dead reading that sappy crap. Second, you do so give a shit, or you wouldn’t hide them in your nightstand. And finally, because mentally linking with regular wolves like them is like herding ADD toddlers hopped up on caffeine. Doable but fucking exhausting.” He shook his frame and tilted his head. “While I, being of the superior Wulver species, am not only a scintillating conversationalist, I’m also a fabulous actor and much better-looking.”

  “Don’t forget modest.” Ryan smirked as he rummaged around in the compartment under the steps leading to the sleeping area. Selecting his favorite whittling knife and a piece of balsa wood that fit nicely in the palm of his hand, he stepped outside, seeking a reprieve from the heat.

  “Forfeit! You left the arena. I win!”

  “If you say so, though I’m surprised you’re happy with a cheesy default. But whatever.” Ryan grinned. He could practically smell the smoke as Zander mined his brain for a comeback. Confident it would take a while, he stretched to his full height, working the highway miles out of his shoulders, and took a closer look around.

  He could see why the production company’s Locations Department picked this spot. Being responsible for the site of every scene as well as places for the cast, various crews, and support teams often meant commuting between multiple sites. In this case, the freight lot they’d rented bordered their wilderness area set so alleviated that problem. All the trailers, equipment, and other structures would be close at hand, and despite being smack dab in the middle of Atlanta, Constitution Lake Park could easily be miles out in the country. At least until the Teamsters arrived later tonight, then a small mobile city, aptly named ‘the circus,’ would spring up bringing organized chaos to the serene setting.

  Ryan’s fifth wheel was comprised of two separate sections, the main living area up front and a patio section in the back perfect for housing the wolves when they were traveling and on location. The rig also took up thirty-eight feet on its own, so he’d parked it in the far southeast corner, the only spot that would offer him a modicum of privacy once the circus moved in. Noise, however, was another matter, so Ryan figured he might as well take advantage of the peace while he could.

  A moist, magnolia-scented breeze filled the air, and Ryan took a deep appreciative breath as he flopped down in his lawn chair. For the next several minutes, he let his fingers and blade seek out the soul hiding inside the wood. Occupying his hands helped him focus on the coming day’s work, allowing him to mentally step through each scene. Tomorrow, the mayhem of filmmaking would start, and with each minute costing the studio thousands of dollars, there would be no time to second-guess his strategy.

  A rudimentary shape began to appear under Ryan’s knife as the final rays of the setting sun painted the distant treetops gold.

  Irvin had insisted on Ryan’s company, Sheridan Enterprises L.L.C., for this series pilot, because he wanted the real deal opposed to CG on this project, and as the director of photography, he got what he wanted. In this case, him—the wolf whisperer. Ryan grimaced. He wasn’t going to miss that name.

  Yeah, but you’ll bloody well miss the rest.

  His blade dug deeper than intended and Ryan muttered a curse. Lifting the piece, he tried to figure out a way to fix the scar, and the lie he’d been telling himself developed a crack. He was running out of time. Yeah, and you can’t fix that either, can you?

  Ryan dragged in a shuddering breath and flipped to the other side of that broken record. He shouldn’t have to, damn it. It wasn’t as though he didn’t care about his people or didn’t want to be
a contributing member of his Clan; he did. But what was being demanded of him had been his brother Ethan’s birthright, not his. Hell, he didn’t even agree with the Council’s protectionist policies.

  Ryan unclenched his fingers and flipped the piece and went at it with the knife’s tip, his hand moving faster. As far as he was concerned, his kind should find ways of integrating into the outside world instead of hiding from it in poverty.

  After all, he’d found a way to make a good living hiding in plain sight, hadn’t he? Damn it, if Ethan were still around, he wouldn’t be in this mess.

  “If you were going to stay out here brooding, the least you could’ve done was open the back ramp. You know I hate these stupid stairs.”

  The erratic click of Zander’s nails on the trailer steps stemmed the spinning vinyl argument in Ryan’s mind, but not his frustration over it, and his knife slipped again tearing an irreparable chunk away this time.

  The ruined wood and knife hit the ground between Ryan’s feet, and he choked off the urge to holler at the top of his lungs, reducing it to a growl. “This isn’t working.”

  “What isn’t, the carving bit–or the running away part?”

  Ryan scrubbed his hands down his face then let his arms drop to dangle at the sides of his chair. Tired of being in his head, he answered out loud. “Neither apparently.”

  The coarse guard hairs of Zander’s coat felt surprisingly cool as his friend slid under Ryan’s limp fingers and sat down. “I know you’re worried about the whole Alpha-Designate thing, Ryan. You feel trapped. I get it. And for some reason, you have it in that thick head of yours that being second in line means you’re somehow inferior, but trust me, that’s bullshit. Alpha blood will prove, it always does. You can and will do this. You have no other choice.”

  “Gee, thanks, buddy. No pressure there.”

  “Finally, we agree on something. But that’s not the only thing this is about, is it?”

  Ryan squeezed his eyes shut as a fresh wave of bitterness gnawed through the bottom of his stomach. Zander was right. It wasn’t just the forced political career he resented.

 

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