The Hottest Ticket in Town

by Kimberly Van Meter

  “Then we make Woodsville our temporary home,” she said resolutely as if that were the easiest solution when he knew it wasn’t.

  “We can’t do that,” he protested, but she wasn’t interested in arguments and just held her ground. “Okay, and how exactly does that work? We all move in with Warren? I mean, I love the guy, but...”

  “No. But we can certainly build our own place on the property. It’s plenty big enough,” she pointed out, and he realized she was making some sense. Laci settled against him and smiled, saying, “I’ve always liked that spot across from the barn. The view of the creek is beautiful and the fireflies are magical.”

  He liked the picture she painted except for one thing. “Have you forgotten how I feel about this town?”

  She framed his face with her hands. “This town didn’t screw you over. Your father did. And he’s dead. Besides, you met me in this town, so it can’t be all bad, right?”

  She had a point. Still... “I don’t know, Laci. There are a lot of variables that I’m not sure will pan out.”

  “Do you love me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then that’s all that matters,” she said, cutting him off softly. “We’ll make it work. I need you and you need me. We’re like peas and carrots...you know?”

  If he were a smart man, he’d just go with whatever she proposed because she was promising the keys to the castle, but he couldn’t sell her a bit of goods that he didn’t know he could guarantee. “I don’t know if I can be the man you want me to be,” he said, searching her gaze. “I’m not cut out to be your backstage groupie.”

  “And I would never ask you to be. But how about being my...husband? Would you be up to that task?”

  Her slightly vulnerable gaze seared into his and nearly ripped him to shreds in the best possible way. “Are you saying you want to be my wife?”

  “I’m saying we should’ve been married a long time ago because you’re the lid to my pot and if that hasn’t been made readily clear, then I don’t know what would. What do you say? Want to make an honest woman out of me?”

  In answer, he crushed her to him, sealing his lips to hers and she clung to him like a monkey. Suddenly he lost his grip on every objection he’d raised in earnest because she was the only woman for him. He would never tire of this feeling and he knew that with Laci, this feeling would never stop. They had something people only dreamed about, something few people were lucky enough to find and hold on to. The same something Cora and Warren had been blessed to have and then teach their ragtag pseudofamily how to know when they saw it.

  And he’d be a damn idiot to let it go twice.

  “Damn straight I will marry you, Laci McCall. Hell, maybe we’d better do it quick before either one of us comes to their senses and realizes it’s a terrible idea.”

  “Hush your mouth,” she said, giggling in his arms. “It’s the best damn idea you’ve ever had. Now get over here and show me how much you love me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” And then he gladly, almost deliriously, showed her just how being her husband would become his number one priority for the rest of their days.

  Making it work wouldn’t be easy, but...hell, nothing worth keeping ever was.

  Epilogue

  A LOT CAN happen in a year.

  Kane stood with Laci as they prepared to walk over the threshold of their new home, built to their particular specifications on the Bradford ranch, and grinned. “Not bad,” he said, and Laci batted him playfully on the arm. “Okay, okay, it’s pretty damn awesome,” he admitted, looking at the modest three-bedroom, two-bath replica farmhouse that’d originally been on the property back in the 1800s. They’d found the picture when they were going back in the records to handle a land dispute that’d popped up and the minute Laci had seen it, she’d known that was the house she wanted built on the property. Of course, Warren, tickled pink to have his family close again, was quick to agree with her and before Kane knew it, they were knee-deep in construction and historical documents to make sure every detail was just right.

  It was then he realized his new wife was a little obsessive.

  But lucky for him, he found that little hidden quality damn hot.

  “Who knew picking out door handles could be so sexy,” he teased, and she blushed.

  “They have to be right or else it throws off the entire historical relevance,” she insisted. “And if we’d gone with the brushed bronze, it would’ve clashed with the copper I’d already picked out for the appliances. So I had to find a way to get you to see my way was right.”

  “It worked,” he said, smiling. “We should build more houses together. The sex is fantastic.”

  “Yoooo-hoooo,” a voice called out from behind them and they turned to see Adeline Verley making her way toward them, holding a pie. “You can’t go into your new house without something sweet to start you off on a good note.”

  About three months after Cora had passed, Adeline, who’d been bridge buddies with Cora, started coming around to check on Warren. And as things go, Warren started to like more about Adeline than just her creamy mashed potatoes. Rian, Kane and Laci wholeheartedly approved of this new “friendship” and actively encouraged it because Adeline was a lot like Cora, which Warren found comforting, and the fact that she could bake as well as his late wife was a big point in her favor. Even though no one would ever replace Cora, Adeline was a good woman and they all agreed, Cora would’ve approved.

  “Smells great, Adeline,” Laci said, accepting the pie with a smile. “Rhubarb?”

  “Straight from my own garden.” She beamed, then exclaimed, “Oh, my word! That house...just beautiful. When y’all gonna start filling up those rooms with some babies?”

  Laci laughed and Kane shifted on his feet, but Adeline wasn’t kidding. Babies might be in their future someday, but right now, Kane was having too much fun making his wife squeal every night, screwing her six ways from Sunday because...as Laci put it, they had a lot of catching up to do.

  And boy, he liked the work.

  Rian kept the LA office going and Laci had kept her Ojai ranch for times when trips to SoCal were unavoidable, but for the most part, they were ready to make Woodsville their primary location and Kane was good with that. So much had happened, so much had changed and he realized if he wasn’t the same person from all those years ago, the town wasn’t the same, either.

  Second chances were available to those willing to accept them.

  And Kane was ready.

  “Oh, by the way, another fat restitution check came in today, so that should more than pay for the landscaping I want to put in,” Laci told him, smiling angelically. “See? I’m being frugal.”

  He laughed at the very idea of his wife being frugal in any way, but he figured it was money well spent. After an audit had been performed on Trent Blackstone, it was discovered he’d been ripping Laci off from the minute she’d hit it big and he owed her a lot of money. A judge had ordered restitution, which had pretty much wiped out Trent’s bank accounts and now he was no longer in the business. Rumor had it, he’d switched to the insurance field. Laci said she didn’t care—that she never thought of Trent—but she sure loved cashing those checks.

  As for her tour team, Audrey and Simone were still her go-to people and while Laci hadn’t managed to convince either to move to Woodsville because, c’mon, it’s barely a blip on the map and hardly a mecca for upwardly mobile professionals, Laci saw them often because they were staying at the Ojai ranch to keep it occupied and free from squatters.

  Hey, life was good. Laci had a new hit single, a song that had been stuck in her
head for close to two years and now was climbing the charts like a money-hungry gold digger and he had the sexiest wife who could bake a mean pie during the day and ride him senseless at night.

  What more could a guy want when he had the hottest ticket in town?

  Not much.

  And he was good with that.

  So, so good.

  * * * * *

  Read on for an extract from OUTRAGEOUSLY YOURS by Susanna Carr.

  1

  CLAIRE MILLER’S CHEST tightened with anticipation as she turned her car into the parking lot. “Stop it,” she muttered. “He’s your best friend’s brother. A client. Nothing more.”

  Her body wasn’t listening. It never did when Jason Strong was involved. The town’s golden boy now operated his family’s wine bar and tasting room. He was also the star of her wildest fantasies—and her wicked thoughts had become more frequent since they’d started working together. It was getting embarrassing.

  The one fantasy that kept replaying in her head was inconveniently set in his office. During more than one of their meetings, Claire’s mind had drifted and she had imagined sweeping her arm across his desk and tossing everything to the floor. She would then lay Jason on the desk and rip open his shirt before she licked a path down his rock-hard abs.

  He, of course, would then not be able to keep his hands off her. It was her fantasy, after all. In her dream, the man was overwhelmed with desire and stripped her bare before she straddled his hips and rode him hard. Yet somehow the fantasy ended with her bent over the desk as he took her from behind, the piece of furniture creaking in protest from his powerful thrusts and Claire encouraging him with delighted moans.

  That was one of her tamer fantasies, but it kept looping in her head every time she visited him at work. It was worse when they actually met in his office. Last week she had been in there with him for a brainstorming session and she’d gotten so caught up in the fantasy that she actually pushed a pile of folders off his desk.

  Claire felt her face turn red at the memory. After that, she’d made a point of meeting away from his office.

  Still, her pulse skipped when she saw the sign for Mountain Creek Wine Cellars. Stay focused. No more fantasizing, she reminded herself fiercely as she parked her car.

  She grabbed her messenger bag and hopped out of her car. Realizing that she was a little too eager to see Jason again, Claire stumbled to a stop and took a deep breath. The September air held the scent of turning leaves and chimney smoke. The familiar aroma of fall did nothing to calm her. If anything, it made her think of Jason sprawled on top of her next to a roaring fireplace.

  Be professional. She pulled her blazer closer to ward off the breeze and looked out into the distance at the snowy cap of Mount Rainier. The wine bar had a great view and location, but so did all the other tasting rooms that sat side by side on the curving street at the edge of town. At the moment SUVs and sports cars zoomed by, but in the evening there would be groups of wine enthusiasts walking from one tasting room to the next.

  Claire frowned when she noticed yet another winery shop had opened up across the street. She recognized the name and shook her head. No wonder Jason had asked her to drop by. Tasting rooms were a big business and she was Jason’s secret weapon.

  As she strode to the entrance of Mountain Creek, she spotted a few of her neighbors sitting on the patio and enjoying the rare Pacific Northwest sunshine. She waved and they saluted her with their wineglasses. As she walked past them, she heard one of the women ask the others, “Who was that?”

  Claire sighed as weariness settled in her chest but she didn’t turn around. She was used to that response. It was the disadvantage of always flying under the radar. Claire kept walking so she didn’t have to hear how the others would answer. From experience she already knew: they’d say she looked familiar but none of them would be able to place her.

  Which should make her happy; she had cultivated her anonymity since high school. She’d grown up in the small and rural town of Woodinville but her former classmates would be hard-pressed to describe her as anything other than “nice” and “sweet.”

  Claire was good at marketing her clients and one day she would work on marketing herself. But for now, it was better if she worked in the shadows and behind the scenes. It was safer. No one looked at her too closely or sensed the tension that resided in her every moment. She had hidden it well.

  She stepped across the threshold of Mountain Creek Wine Cellars and was immediately aware of the casual and lively energy. The dark wood floors and red walls seemed almost too modern for the sleepy town. The wine bar was on the first floor and a large spiral staircase that wrapped around a huge wine rack led customers upstairs to the tasting rooms. There were windows everywhere, offering magnificent views of the mountain and evergreen forests. Instead of being stuffy and pretentious as some wine bars could be, she found Mountain Creek Wine Cellars warm and welcoming.

  There were a few customers sitting at the dark wooden tables, enjoying the start of happy hour. Claire saw Jason walk out of the kitchen with a tray of appetizers. Her breath hitched in her throat as she studied him.

  Jason Strong was tall and muscular. She noticed how perfectly his button-down shirt hung from his solid shoulders and laid against his broad chest. Claire bit her lip as her gaze traveled down his flat abdomen to take in the way his faded jeans clung to his thighs. The man had been handsome and athletic in school but now, at twenty-eight years old, he was in his prime.

  Claire dragged her gaze back up to his face. It was risky—sometimes she couldn’t stop staring at him. She knew every line and angle of his blunt cheekbones, square jaw and slightly crooked nose. Today she noticed he needed to cut his dark brown hair. He usually kept it short because he didn’t like how it curled.

  He spoke to a small group of elderly women who were enjoying a day out. She couldn’t hear what Jason said but she caught snatches of his deep, melodic voice. From the rapt attention the other women showed, Claire realized she wasn’t the only one who could listen to him all day.

  The left corner of his mouth tilted up and then he smiled.

  Claire sighed. Jason Strong was a charmer. A flirt. He knew how to tease gently and how to work that smile.

  Jason must have felt her gaze. He suddenly looked in her direction. She tried to give a cool nod as she watched his bright blue eyes light up. Her heart thumped hard against her rib cage, but she wasn’t dumb enough to read anything into his reaction. Jason was just a friendly guy.

  “Claire!” He motioned for her to meet him at the bar near the staircase.

  He didn’t used to welcome her so warmly, she remembered. Claire had been the annoying friend of his little sister who was always at his family’s home growing up. He was only two years older but there had been times when it felt as if he had been a world away and just as far out of her league.

  “Okay, Jason,” Claire said as she sat down on a bar stool and placed her bag on the seat next to her. “I came as quickly as I could. What’s the emergency?”

  “Have a drink first,” He stood on the other side of the bar and rested his arms on top of the counter. “Merlot, right?”

  She was surprised that he remembered her favorite drink from his family’s boutique winery. The wine bar had many loyal customers but she was usually here to discuss projects and rarely indulged in a glass. “No, thanks. Now, what’s going on?”

  “I decided to have a party for our reserve label next weekend. Everyone is invited. Not just the wine club.” He gestured with his hands as he pictured his idea. “We have to promote it big.”

  “Another event? Next weekend?” Claire asked cautiously. She should keep her mouth shut. Jason was her best client. She needed all the work she could get but this was getting out of hand.

  Jason was always optimistic. Too optimistic. But
then, the guy never failed. Every project he started, every idea that came into his head, was successful.

  “Next Friday. It’ll be fine.” Jason gave another lopsided smile that made her forget to breathe. “Who doesn’t love a party?”

  A wallflower. But no one had ever accused Jason of being one of those. He knew how to throw a party and these events showcased his strengths. Who was she to say anything?

  “Think you can handle the short notice?” he asked.

  Tension squeezed her chest as she considered the amount of work she had to accomplish for her other clients during the week. But to suggest she couldn’t handle the party would be admitting defeat. “Of course,” she said with a weak smile.

  She watched him tap his fingers on the bar. The man had a restless, almost insatiable energy. Some people found it exhausting. She found it exhilarating. She wished some of it would rub off on her.

  Claire had learned from experience that nothing would temper his enthusiasm for his latest project. He couldn’t be bothered with schedules and budgets. Still, she felt compelled to remind him of the potential problems. “Your events calendar is already packed.”

  “I know, isn’t it great?” Jason asked. “Business has really picked up since we’ve been focused on our social media.”

  Claire ducked her head as her face warmed from the compliment. It felt good to be recognized for her work. “You’re welcome,” she said gruffly.

  “Hold on, Claire, I’m being called to the kitchen.” He walked around the bar. “I’ll be right back.”

  She was tempted to watch him walk away. Instead, Claire grabbed her cell phone and checked her messages as if her life depended on it. A text came in just as she entered her password.

  How’s the transformation going?

  Claire grimaced. It was from Max Blair, the social media legend to the stars. At a conference last month, she’d been flattered that he’d singled her out, and he’d even dangled the possibility of working for him. But first he’d challenged her to create and manage an image. And he gave her the hardest subject to work on: herself.