The Maverick Fakes a Bride!

by Christine Rimmer

  Brenna tried branding and found she had a talent for it. The brands stood in coolers of dry ice. When they stopped bubbling, they were ready to go. Freeze branding was a little trickier than hot branding. She had to hold the frozen iron steadily in place for a good thirty seconds to make sure she killed all the hair pigment cells. She had four other wrestlers on her team to hold the calves steady, and she quickly got the rhythm of the task. Roberta, who’d gone to veterinary school before her cheating dirt-ball ex showed up to mess with her heart, did the vaccinating.

  The afternoon stretched into early evening, but they kept after it. Finally, at a little past seven, as the shadows from the mountains crept across the land, Anthony called an end to shooting for that day.

  They all turned in their body mics and staggered back to their circle of tents for dinner from a can. Once she’d filled her belly and done her part cleaning up the dishes down at the creek, Brenna grabbed her pack from the tent and headed for the two outdoor showers Real Deal had provided at one of the barns.

  Summer, Trav and a few others had been called to the green screen by the canteen for OTFs. Almost everyone else was at the showers, waiting in two lines for a turn in one of the corrugated metal stalls. They discussed the day just passed and the first elimination that would be coming up tomorrow after the remaining calves were branded.

  Inside the stall at last, Brenna found there was just one faucet—cold. And she didn’t even care. It felt like heaven to wash off the grime. She lathered her hair and rinsed as fast as she could, shivering the whole time. Once she’d dried off, she put on clean clothes and her dusty boots, gathered her things and let the next person have a turn.

  Halfway back to the campsite she heard an odd choking sound. Pausing in midstep, she listened—and there it was again, coming from somewhere off to her right, away from the circle of firelight.

  And then she heard the sound a third time. A sob, definitely. Someone was crying.

  Brenna changed direction, moving as quietly as she could across the rolling, shadowed ground, following the painful, stifled sounds.

  Behind a rocky outcropping away from all the other buildings, she found Leah Stone, who was half of the only married couple in the show, crouched behind a boulder. Leah sobbed softly, her head in her hands.

  Brenna hesitated. Leah wouldn’t have come out here alone in the dark if she wanted company. She and her husband, Seth, mostly kept to themselves. Brenna had hardly shared two words with the woman.

  Probably better to just go. As silently as possible, she backed up a step.

  But then Leah let out the saddest little moan. It kind of broke Brenna’s heart, that lonely, unhappy sound. Really, she couldn’t just sneak away without at least making sure Leah was all right.

  She took a step forward and then another. By then, she was only a few feet from the crying woman.

  Leah must have heard something. Her head shot up. “Who’s there?”

  Sheepishly, Brenna wiggled her fingers in a wave. “Leah. Hey.”

  “Oh, God. Brenna...”

  “I’m sorry. I should go—”

  “No. I... Um. I just...” Leah slowly shook her head. And then, with another sob, she planted her face in her hands again.

  Brenna set everything but her towel on one of the boulders and dropped down beside the other woman. “Hey. Hey, now...” She wrapped an arm around Leah. Leah sobbed harder and huddled closer. Brenna wrapped her in a full hug. “Hey, hey.” She stroked Leah’s back and smoothed her hair. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

  “Oh, no. I don’t think it will. I really, really don’t.”

  Brenna wanted to argue, to promise that it would all work out. But she didn’t even know what it was. So she settled for making soft, reassuring sounds and holding Leah good and close.

  Finally, Leah spoke again. “I just wanted a little time, you know, to myself.”

  “I get that.” Brenna tipped up Leah’s chin. “You want me to go?”

  Leah sniffed. “No, stay. Actually, it feels kind of good to have someone to lean on.”

  “Here.” Brenna used her towel to gently wipe Leah’s tear-streaked face. “Sorry, the towel’s kind of damp.”

  “It’s cool, though. Feels good.” With a ragged little sigh, Leah rested her head on Brenna’s shoulder. Brenna reached back and put the towel on the rock behind them. She thought of Fallon, of how she could always get her sister to say what was really bothering her. “Spill.”

  “Hmm?”

  “That’s what I say to my sister when I know she wants to tell me what’s on her mind but she’s trying to be all brave and self-sufficient and not put her troubles on me.”

  “I don’t want to put my troubles on you, Brenna. I hardly know you.”

  “I get that. But sometimes a girl just needs to talk, right?”

  “True, but—”

  “Come on. Say it.”

  “Well, can I trust you? I mean, we are in competition.”

  “Yes, we are.” Brenna started to promise that she would keep Leah’s confidence. But that wasn’t strictly true. She admitted, “Whatever you say, I’ll most likely share it with Travis, because I tell him everything.” At least, when it came to the show, she did. “But he’ll keep it to himself, and I’ll never tell anyone else.”

  “I believe you.” With a shaky inhale, Leah lifted her head again. “Too bad Big Brother is always watching.” She peered into the darkness, as though she might suddenly spot a hidden camera hanging from a tree.

  Brenna shrugged. “I doubt they’re recording us here. But you’re right. You never know.”

  Leah put her head back on Brenna’s shoulder again and whispered, “I don’t think my husband loves me.”

  “Oh, Leah.” Brenna gave the woman a good, tight squeeze.

  “I don’t think he ever did.”

  “No...”

  “Um-hmm.” Leah lifted her head and stared up at the star-scattered sky. “His family’s farm was right next to ours. His parents and mine were best friends. I fell in love with him when I was eight. And I never stopped. Who does that?”

  Brenna smiled to herself, thinking of her six-year-old self declaring undying love to Trav. “Sometimes you just know when it’s right.” She felt the smile melt right off her face. “Even if he doesn’t.”

  Leah gave a sad little nod. “I was always the one pushing him to be with me. We were together straight through high school and when he enrolled at Iowa State, so did I. Everybody expected us to get married, and that worked for me. So we did. And now, after ten years of marriage, he’s... Oh, Brenna. He never talks to me. He’s distant, like a stranger. I thought that getting on this show, having this adventure together, might rekindle the flame, you know? But now I’m afraid there was no flame to start with, at least not for him.”

  Brenna tried to think of something helpful to say. “Have you talked to him about it?”

  “I’ve tried. I get nowhere. He says everything’s fine.” She sat up a little straighter. “And I can’t believe I’m telling you all this. I don’t even know you.”

  Brenna met Leah’s eyes and said gently, “I do understand how you feel.”

  “Because of Travis? You...you think Travis doesn’t love you?”

  I know he doesn’t love me. But she couldn’t tell Leah that. Her loyalty to Trav and to the win had to come first. “I’m just saying I get it, that you have your doubts. I, um, have them, too.” It was the truth, though not in the way that Leah would assume. Sometimes, especially in the past few days, Brenna wondered if she was getting too attached to her fake fiancé. Sometimes she dreaded the end of the show. Because however it ended, even if they won a million bucks and she could buy the beauty shop from Bee, it wouldn’t be easy. They would have to pretend to be engaged for months. And what if Real Deal decided to activa
te the marriage clause?

  Uh-uh. Seriously. She really shouldn’t even let herself go there.

  Leah asked, “So what do you do when you start doubting?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Please.”

  “Denial. Total denial.”

  Leah actually laughed. “Oh, come on. You’re not serious.”

  “Oh, yes, I am. I tell myself not to think about it. I focus on the moment, on staying in the game. I...keep close with Trav, keep the lines of communication open and remind myself that we’re in this together.” That didn’t sound so bad, did it? And really, it was all true. As far as it went.

  “I remember at the final audition at that cowboy bar, the Ace in the Hole?”

  “Oh, God.” At least the darkness hid her blush of embarrassment. “I really put on a show that night, didn’t I?”

  “You were great.”

  “Right.”

  “I mean it, you were—and I remember you said you fell in love with Travis when you were six years old.”

  Brenna face-palmed. “I have such a big mouth.”

  “No, really. It was charming and heartfelt, everything you said.”

  “I went a little crazy that night.” With the help of Homer’s magic moonshine.

  “I think you just said what was in your heart. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Leah?” A man’s voice—Seth, no doubt—came from the other side of the rocks behind them. “Leah, you out here?”

  “Shh.” Leah signaled Brenna for silence. And then she leaned close and whispered, “Thank you.” Her soft lips brushed Brenna’s cheek. “You’ve made me feel so much better.”

  “But I only—”

  “Leah?” Seth called again.

  Leah called back, “Coming!” She leaned into Brenna again and pitched her voice extra low. “Don’t you ever doubt Travis. A person only has to watch him watching you to know you’re everything to him. That man loves you like nobody’s business.”

  All of a sudden, she wanted to cry.

  And then Leah swept to her feet. “I’m here, Seth!” She slid around the outcropping and vanished from sight.

  * * *

  “You kissed Summer yesterday, Travis,” said Roger. “Why?”

  Travis sat in front of the green screen bombarded by golden light, knowing the cameras were picking up every move he made, every slight change in his expression. Two days into filming and already he hated the damn OTFs. And come on, hadn’t they already covered this ground yesterday? “Summer kissed me yesterday. You’d have to ask her why she did that. I’m in love with my fiancée, and I told Summer so.”

  “It looked to us like you almost kissed Summer back.”

  “I’m only interested in one woman. That’s Brenna O’Reilly. Summer should know that.”

  “Summer’s had her eye on you from the first.”

  “If Summer’s had her eye on me, I didn’t notice.”

  “She’s a beauty. And so seductive. It’s crystal clear she’d like to make time with you.”

  “I have a feeling Summer would like to make time with a lot of guys. She should pick one of them and leave me the hell alone.”

  “Why are you so riled up, Travis? Does Summer pose more of a temptation for you than you’re willing to admit?”

  Travis had the urge to leap from his camp chair and go after Roger, bust him a good one right in the chops. But that would only be giving the producer exactly what he was after.

  Which, come to think of it, was exactly what Travis was supposed to do. Play the game, get emotional. Start a fight.

  But what was it Bren said last night? That Summer should play a better game?

  Maybe he ought to take his fake fiancée’s advice. Travis drew a slow breath and ordered his heart rate to even out. “I’ll tell you what temptation is. My girl. She’s a pure temptation. I waited a long time, years, to finally have my chance with Bren. At first, she was too young for me. And for way too long, as the good Lord and all of Rust Creek Falls knows, I was dead set on never settling down. I don’t deserve her. I never did. But somehow she loves me, anyway. And so we’re together now. No other woman can even compare. And yeah, I say that from experience. I’ve been with other girls. I’ve had my wild times. Now there’s only one woman I want to get crazy with. That’s why that woman has my ring on her finger. That’s why I can’t wait to make Brenna my wife.”

  * * *

  When Travis got back to the tent, Brenna sat on her bedroll in her Bushwacker T-shirt, braiding that gorgeous red hair of hers by lantern light.

  She gave him a soft smile as he ducked between the tent flaps. “How was the OTF?” She wore no bra. The T-shirt was several sizes too big for her, but it couldn’t disguise the natural movement of her breasts beneath the worn fabric as she worked on her braid.

  God, she smelled good, all clean and fresh. He bent close to get a whiff of her hair. Apples and honey. He wanted to touch it, to stroke his hand down and grab the end of that braid. He would give it a tug. She would laugh and slap at him, order him to stop. So he would capture her obstinate chin and tip her lips up to claim a long, sweet kiss.

  Because that’s who they were now. At least for the next six weeks or so. Brenna and Travis, deeply in love and planning on forever side by side.

  “Trav?”

  “Um?”

  “The OTF?”

  He grabbed his pack. “I’ve decided I hate OTFs.”

  She chuckled as she wrapped an elastic around the end of the finished braid. “Wait. Let me guess. They came after you about Summer again?”

  “No surprise, huh?”

  “Not even a little.”

  “The good news is I think I shut them up, at least for now. I told them all about you. How you’re the only woman in the world for me.”

  She flipped her braid back over her shoulder. “My hero,” she whispered in twangy drawl. “You’re such a total romantic.” She pretended to shiver with pleasure.

  He shoved his pack against the side of the tent, took her by her strong, slim shoulders and pushed her onto her back, hiking a knee over her so he had her pinned between his thighs.

  She blinked up at him looming above her on his hands and knees and whispered, “Okay. What’s the game?”

  He bent his head and kissed her—a quick one, to start. Her mouth tasted like peppermint. She must have already brushed her teeth. “I need a shower.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “Not the answer to my question.”

  He tipped his head toward the lantern. “You’ve got the lantern on. Anyone outside can see our shadows in here...”

  She got it then. Her mouth formed a soft O and her eyes shone the brightest, clearest blue.

  He bent close again. “I think I need to kiss you—even if I do smell like the back end of a rode-hard horse.”

  She licked her pink lips. Damn. He couldn’t wait to kiss them again. “It’s very manly, how you smell.”

  “Manly. I’ll take it.”

  With a happy little sigh, she lifted her soft arms and wrapped them around his neck. They felt so good there. He could almost wish she would never let go. “And of course you should kiss me,” she whispered. “Because I’ve got the lantern on and anyone could be looking. And if they are looking, they need to see how we can’t keep our hands off each other.”

  “It’s a difficult job, all this kissing,” he replied, straight-faced and solemn. “But it’s our job, and we have to do it.”

  “Less talk.” She made a growling sound. “More action.”

  He smiled at her and she returned it, right before he lowered his head and his mouth touched hers.

  A soft, eager moan escaped her. And she opened so sweetly, letting him in.

  Heaven and
peppermint. She tasted so good. He wanted to lower his body to hers, press her down into the bedroll, reach for the hem of that faded T-shirt and slowly ease it upward, uncovering her slowly, inch by smooth inch...

  Her fingers stroked his nape, and another moan escaped her. She breathed his name into his mouth. “Trav...”

  His body burned. He ached, he was so hard and ready for her.

  This was getting dangerous.

  This was getting far too real.

  “Come down here.” She wrapped her hand around his nape and tugged a little. “You’re too far away.”

  He was. Way too far. No doubt about it. He slid an arm under her and turned her as he lowered his body. Straightening his legs, he rolled them both to their sides.

  “Better.” She stroked the hair at his temples, rubbed his rough cheek. “I like your beard, the way you keep it short and scruffy. It’s sexy. And it feels so good, a little scratchy and yet silky, too.”

  “That does it. I’ll never shave again.”

  “Works for me.”

  He should stop. But he didn’t want to stop. He kissed her some more as he trailed his hand up over the curve of her hip and down into the tender valley of her waist.

  His hand was still on top of her shirt. He promised himself he would keep it there.

  But then he cheated. Just a little. He ran his palm back over her hip again, going lower that time, down along the cool flesh of her bare thigh. Her skin felt so good, so smooth and perfect. Mine. The word filled his head. Made just for me. He curved his rough fingers around the tender cove behind her knee and tugged.

  She giggled. He drank in the sweet sound as she took his cue, lifting her leg, wrapping it over his thigh. Her heel brushed his calf, burning like a brand even through the heavy denim of his jeans. He yearned to press himself hard and tight against her. To get rid of that T-shirt, strip off his dusty clothes and bury himself in the sweet heat of her body.

  Somehow, he made himself break the mind-blowing, never-ending kiss. They stared at each other. He let his gaze wander, over her flushed cheeks and her swollen mouth and those eyes that glittered so bright, teasing him, inviting him.