Make-Believe Wedding (Montana Born Brides Book 9)

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Make-Believe Wedding (Montana Born Brides Book 9) Page 7

by Sarah Mayberry


  “Isn’t this supposed to be a romantic thing?” Heath asked.

  “‘Humor me,” Marly said.

  “Right.” He studied Andie’s face. He honestly couldn’t think of a single thing she did that annoyed him.

  “There must be something,” Andie said.

  “She doesn’t rate herself highly enough,” Heath said.

  “Sorry?” Andie said, blinking at him.

  “It’s true, Andie. You’re too modest.”

  She scoffed. “Big Mack and I had a half-hour debate today over who was worth more to the business.”

  “I don’t mean professionally.” Heath glanced at Marly. “See what I mean? She has no idea how gorgeous she is.”

  Andie’s mouth shut with an audible click as she stared at him, clearly thrown by what he’d said. Which just proved his point.

  “That’s perfect. These are going to be great,” Marly said.

  Heath realized she’d been snapping away the whole time he and Andie sparred with each other.

  “Now, one last shot—the obligatory kiss,” Marly said.

  Andie gave the other woman a nervous look before reaching up and flicking her hair over her shoulder. “Okay. Sure.”

  She looked at Heath, then licked her lower lip. “How do you want to do this?”

  “I’m thinking we’ll go with the tried and true,” he said.

  “Wha-”

  She swallowed the rest of what she’d been about to say as he lowered his head toward her, reaching out to pull her close. Despite her surprise, she slipped into his arms as though they were made for her, her face angling up to meet his. His mouth found hers, and again he tasted strawberries and something else. Something that was pure Andie, hot and female and needy.

  Her breasts settled against his chest, her knees bumping his, and he was taken by surprise by the fierce surge of want that tightened his groin.

  More than a little rattled, he broke the kiss, pulling back far enough to look into Andie’s face. She stared back him, and for a second he saw the same need and heat and desire in her, and the primitive part of his brain kicked in as he calculated how long it would take him to drive to her place and get her naked.

  Then she blinked and sanity returned and he took a jerky, urgent step away from her.

  He was not taking Andie home to get her naked. He shouldn’t even be thinking about it.

  “Wonderful. I think that one’s going to be the winner,” Marly said. “Although I must say, those men you work with must be the most unobservant bunch in the history of the world not to have realized what was going on with you two.”

  He pulled his gaze from Andie’s face. “Generally speaking, they’re more interested in football.”

  Marly laughed, and he somehow managed to keep up a stream of small-talk as they walked back to the newspaper’s storefront.

  “The profile will be in next week’s paper, since I’ve just put this week’s issue to bed,” Marly said. “I appreciate you both accommodating me so quickly. And good luck with the giveaway.”

  They shook hands, and by unspoken agreement he and Andie waited until Marly had disappeared through the door to the newspaper before speaking.

  “Well, I guess we survived,” Andie said, heaving a big sigh.

  Speak for yourself.

  “Yeah.”

  She dug her car keys from her pants pocket. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Did you check on that conduit order?”

  “It’s coming first thing.”

  “Good. I want to do the garden lighting in number fourteen tomorrow.” She gave him a distracted smile. “See you.”

  He walked to his own car and got in, more to stop himself from staring after her than anything else. He felt… blindsided. And it wasn’t a welcome feeling. Not five minutes ago, every instinct he’d had had been telling him to get Andie into his bed, a concept that was wrong on so many different levels that he couldn’t even begin to get his head around it.

  And yet the need their kiss had ignited—the curiosity—still burned in his gut. And elsewhere.

  Get your head out of the gutter, McGregor. This is Andie.

  It was. Problem was, it was getting harder and harder to remember that.

  Chapter Seven

  “Wear the blue one,” Lily ordered, her tone uncompromising. “It brings out your eyes.”

  Andie glanced across to where her friend was reclining on Andie’s bed, slowly eating her way through a family-sized slab of chocolate. Lily was celebrating good news—she’d landed a new job today, which meant she could officially relax about being able to make rent.

  Andie considered the t-shirt in question. “It’s too low-cut.”

  She’d only worn the t-shirt Lily was advocating once and the whole time she’d felt as though the world was staring at her cleavage. What there was of it.

  “So? You’re going to a bar.”

  “With the guys from work. For Big Mack’s birthday.” Andie pulled the t-shirt off and tossed it onto the bed.

  “And Heath will be there.” Lily threw the t-shirt back at Andie. “Wear the blue one, Andie.”

  “It’s too… show-offy.”

  “What was it Heath said again? You have no idea how gorgeous you are. Remember that, Andie?”

  Andie still felt a thrill at hearing the words, even though it had been four days since their interview with the Courier.

  “He was putting on a show for the reporter.”

  “He could have said anything. He could have said that you snore or that you leave the lid off the toothpaste. But he didn’t, so show off a bit, Andie.”

  “It’s not going to make any difference.”

  “You don’t know that. You’ve never tried before.”

  Andie widened her eyes, stung. “I have too! I’ve tried plenty over the years. I spent an absolute fortune on that dress for the ball.”

  “You should have worn red. Men are like toddlers—they’re attracted to primary colors. And skin.”

  Andie spluttered out a laugh. Lily’s views on men were half-appalling, half-hilarious.

  “Heath is not a pre-schooler.”

  “Wear the blue top and get back to me,” Lily insisted.

  Sighing in resignation, Andie pulled the t-shirt back on.

  “Perfect. Now, perfume. And make-up. And we have to decide what to do with your hair.”

  “I’m wearing it up.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re wearing it down. I just have to decide whether we should curl it or not.”

  Lily narrowed her eyes, clearly considering the matter.

  “Don’t I get any say?”

  “Nope. You’ve had your chance. Let Aunty Lily pimp your ride now.”

  Andie pretended to protest, but it was so nice to be able to talk about her feelings for Heath—finally—with someone else that she let Lily turn her hair into a tumble of loose, lazy curls. The hair help inevitably turned into make-up help, and before she knew it she was standing in front of her bathroom mirror staring at a sultry stranger.

  “I can’t go to the Den like this. Not with the guys from work. It looks as though I’m trying too hard.”

  “So?”

  “No.” Andie was already reaching for the box of tissues. “You don’t understand, Lily. I’m not a woman at work. I’m a person. The t-shirt and hair are more than enough.”

  Lily must have picked up on the steel in Andie’s tone because she went back to her slab of chocolate. “Okay. You’re the boss.”

  “Now she tells me.”

  She did concede to one final blast of perfume before she left, taking the stairs down to the basement garage in a cloud of warm vanilla and musk. So much for ducking home briefly after work to shower before she joined the rest of the guys at the bar. Lily had turned her quick shower into a full hour of primping. The party would well and truly be started by the time she got there.

  Wound up about being late, she darted through the early evening traffic as she made her way over the train tracks
to the less residential part of town. Personally, she preferred Grey’s Saloon, but Big Mack chose the Wolf’s Den for his party, so the Wolf’s Den it was.

  She found a parking spot in the Den’s gravel lot, then headed up the stairs into the single-level building. The smell of beer and lots of male bodies hit her as she entered, and she quickly spotted Heath’s dark head in the crowd.

  Not because he was the tallest or the broadest man present, but because her internal compass had been tuned to him for too many years now. She shouldered her way to the bar before joining them, buying two pitchers of Big Sky IPA before making her way over to the table.

  “Hey, Andie’s here. And she brought beer,” Angelo cheered as she slid the pitchers onto their table.

  “Marry me, Andie,” Pete said.

  “Someone already beat you to it, dickhead,” Angelo quipped.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Andie could feel Heath staring at her. She accepted the full glass of beer Pete offered her before looking at him. He was frowning.

  “What’s wrong?” Then she remembered they were supposed to be engaged. “Sweetheart.”

  The word felt strange in her mouth and sounded even stranger, but no one seemed to notice.

  “You’re late,” Heath said.

  “We on the clock or something tonight?” She took a mouthful of lovely, crisp ale.

  “I just wondered where you were, that’s all.” His gaze dropped to the shadowy valley between her breasts, a geographic feature that was only possible thanks to the engineering geniuses at Victoria’s Secret.

  Andie went very still. She was pretty sure Heath had never looked at her breasts before. Ever. Maybe Lily had been right about the blue t-shirt.

  “Stop it, man, you’re freaking me out,” Rory said, pretending to cover his eyes.

  “He’s having trouble adjusting to the new state of play,” Mathew said.

  Andie frowned until she realized he was referring to her and Heath’s engagement.

  “Well, you’d better get used to it,” Heath said.

  She started as his arm slid around her, pulling her close to his side. Her breast pressed against hard, masculine chest, and she hoped like hell that he couldn’t feel the shiver of desire that raced through her.

  “So, when is the big day? I need to mark it in my social calendar,” Big Mack said.

  “We’re waiting to hear about the giveaway before we set a date,” Heath said.

  Andie smiled and nodded, hoping she didn’t look as flushed as she felt. She could smell Heath’s aftershave, and feel every breath he took. If he took it upon himself to kiss her right now—for appearances sake—she wasn’t sure she would be answerable for her own actions.

  She ducked her head, taking another mouthful of beer. Which was when she realized her nipples were hard, two demanding peaks calling for attention in the front of her t-shirt.

  Thank you, body. Way to hang me out to dry.

  She angled her body slightly more toward Heath, trying to make it look as though she was simply snuggling closer when she was really trying to conceal her breasts until they got with the program and behaved themselves. Heath shifted his weight minutely.

  “You okay?” he asked quietly.

  “Yep. All good,” she said, praying like hell that he didn’t do the eye-drop thing again.

  “All right. Bull’s free. Who’s up first?” Big Mack said, already shouldering his way through the crowd to the corner where the mechanical bull had just wound to a halt.

  “I’ll go,” Andie said, quickly slipping out from under Heath’s arm.

  She wasn’t a huge fan of being thrown around like a rag doll, but anything was better than a slow death from unrequited lust while pressed against Heath’s side. Without looking back, she followed Big Mack into the crowd.

  She could almost hear Lily’s voice in her head, abjuring her to turn around and go back and make the most of this situation. She couldn’t, though. She wanted Heath too much. It was as simple and as sad as that. She couldn’t spend all night pretending he was hers without it doing something to her—something she probably should have thought about before she agreed to come tonight. Before she agreed to embark on this crazy fake engagement in the first place, too.

  Clear thinking hadn’t exactly been her strong suit lately, though. Thank God she still had an ounce of self-preservation left, because she was going to need it to get through the next few hours.

  Heath lost track of how many beers he downed as he tried not to watch Andie. Given that he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she rode the mechanical bull, her long, strong thighs pressed tight to its sides, her breasts bouncing with every jerk and turn, that particular strategy hadn’t exactly been a rip-roaring success.

  He’d kept stealing glances at her as she played a game of darts with some of the boys, too. Hadn’t been able to stop himself eyeing off her sweet little butt and the honed, lean muscles in her arms and the way she tilted her head back ever so slightly when she laughed.

  If she were any other woman, he would be by her side right now, doing everything in his power to charm her. Trotting out his best lines, his best jokes. Letting her know what he wanted. What he intended.

  Instead, he stood rooted by their table, an empty glass of beer in his hand and guilty thoughts circling his head,

  What are you doing, man?

  He had no idea. He felt as though the whole world had been tilted, as though all the things he counted on were sliding out of his reach. The way he was feeling about Andie was insane, out of control. Wrong.

  Really, really wrong. Beau trusted him. Hell, Andie trusted him. And yet he kept thinking about that moment after their kiss in the park when he’d looked into her eyes and seen lust and heat and desire.

  She’d wanted him, if only for a few seconds, and that thought had been slowly but surely driving him crazy for the past few days. The way she looked tonight, with her hair flowing loose over her shoulders and her face a little flushed from beer was simply the cherry on top of his very own temptation sundae.

  Go home, asshole. Take a cold shower and get some perspective.

  He set the empty glass down. The voice in his head was right. He needed some fresh air and some space. He’d had enough drink to make driving unwise, and he formulated a plan as he made his way to where Andie was laughing with Mathew and Rory. He’d walk into Main Street, grab coffee and some pie from the diner and sober up some. Then he’d come back and grab his truck and drive home.

  It felt like a plan. A sensible, Andie-respecting, Beau-fearing plan.

  Not that he was afraid of Beau, as such. He could totally take him in a cage match. He’d just prefer not to have to.

  “Andie.”

  She swung to face him, her face bright with laughter. “Hey.”

  Jesus, she was gorgeous.

  “I’m heading home,” he said, his tone a little more terse than he’d intended.

  “Oh. Okay. Sure.” She turned to the guys. “See you Monday, losers.”

  He frowned, then his slow brain caught up. Right. They were a couple. Of course they’d leave together. That was what couples did.

  He told himself it didn’t change his plan one iota as they said their goodbyes and made their way through the beer-scented dimness of the bar to the entrance. The cool night air was a welcome wake-up slap, and they paused at the top of the steps by silent mutual accord.

  “That didn’t go too badly,” Andie said.

  “Yeah.” He glanced toward the parking lot. “Listen, I’ve got to go.”

  “You’re not driving, though, right?” She looked concerned.

  “Not yet. I’m walking into town for some pie, then I’ll come get my car.” He started down the steps, needing to get away from her.

  She glanced at the sky. “Looks like it’s going to rain to me. I can drop you home if you like.”

  He did not like. He didn’t want to be alone in a small enclosed space with Andie right now. He didn’t trust himself. Which was a
pretty damn hard thing to admit, even in the privacy of his own mind. How on earth had they gotten here after only two chaste kisses and a few minutes of hand holding?

  “I’ll be fine,” he said, just as a huge roll of thunder rumbled overhead.

  Andie flashed him a grin. “Thor has spoken. Come on, grumpy bear.”

  She walked past him, leading the way to her pickup. More thunder sounded as he slid into the passenger seat. It would take five minutes for Andie to drive him to the two-bedroom cabin he was renting until his place was habitable. He could handle five minutes.

  “Mack had a good night, don’t you think?” Andie asked as she reversed out of the parking spot.

  “He seemed to.”

  “You, on the other hand…”

  “I had a good night.”

  “Right. That’s why you had a permanent frown on your face. Is there something wrong on-site?”

  “No.”

  She was silent for a beat as she pulled onto the road. Then she flashed him a quick glance before returning her gaze to the road.

  “Are you angry with me, then?”

  “No.”

  “You feel angry.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean you feel tense. There’s a vibe.”

  “There isn’t a vibe.” If there was a vibe, it was a let’s-get-naked vibe. Not an angry one.

  “Okay. If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  They drove in silence for a few minutes.

  “I meant to ask, do you still have my Scott rod?” Andie said. “I was thinking of doing some fishing this Sunday and I’ve only got my old rod at my place.”

  “Sure. It’s in the spare room. Where were you thinking of going?”

  “Not sure yet. Maybe Emigrant Bridge.”

  They talked fishing for the remainder of the drive, and Heath had never been so grateful for a neutral topic in his life. By the time Andie was pulling into the driveway of his rental, he was feeling back in control of himself and the situation.

  He got out of the truck and climbed the two steps to the porch. He heard the thunk of the car door closing as Andie joined him and the cool night breeze sent a wash of strawberry-scented air his way as she stopped behind him.

 

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