The Bad Boy's Bride

by Penny Wylder

  The Bad Boy’s Bride

  Penny Wylder

  Copyright © 2020 Penny Wylder

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely coincidental.

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  Contents

  More Books by Penny Wylder

  1. Rachel

  2. Clayton

  3. Rachel

  4. Rachel

  5. Clayton

  6. Rachel

  7. Clayton

  8. Rachel

  9. Clayton

  10. Rachel

  11. Clayton

  12. Rachel

  Epilogue

  More Books by Penny Wylder

  More Books by Penny Wylder

  Click here to read more of my sure-to-please romance books!

  1

  Rachel

  What the hell?

  The email that’s popped up on my phone honestly makes no sense. Something about a will? I didn’t think that I had any family on my dad’s side that even knew who I was, let alone cared to contact me. But there the email is, staring at me, with a fully paid, round-trip ticket to Wyoming booked for two days from now.

  The message on the screen promises that it will be worth my while, but I’m incredibly confused and not at all convinced. I’ll have to ask Solomon for time off. I think that he’ll say yes, given how well I’ve been doing in the kitchen lately, but after all, it is Solomon. Mercurial, unpredictable, ticking timebomb Solomon. His moods change depending on how the wind blows, or how the bechamel bubbles, and I’ll have to make sure that I ask him at the right time.

  “Fucking hell.” The words come in a vicious tone as Melody bursts out the back door of Alaban—the restaurant where we both work. It’s one of the best restaurants in Denver, with two Michelin stars. If you work well in this kitchen, you can work at any restaurant in the country. It’s that prestigious. And so far, I’m doing pretty well at working here.

  “What happened?” I ask, although I can anticipate her answer. Solomon.

  Melody is a rank above me as a station chef. She works the grill, and she’s amazing at what she does. Sometimes on my breaks, I even stand aside and watch her work. But Solomon likes to be everywhere at once; he loathes to cede any control in the kitchen, and before he became head chef, the grill was his domain. He and Melody have a history of butting heads when he gets too territorial over his old turf. It’s a complaint that I’ve heard plenty of times before, and not just from Melody. But we let each other vent, even though there’s nothing we can really do about his shitty attitude and behavior.

  I’m only a junior chef here, and I work under Solomon, assisting him with anything that he needs. But because of that, I’m in a unique position to know exactly the kind of temperament he has. Whenever we’re in the kitchen, I’m never more than a few feet from his side. He is absolutely brilliant, and I learn a lot from him. But like a lot of brilliant men, he has a temper, too much confidence in his own abilities, and too much power.

  “Same old shit,” Melody says. “I’m not grilling fast enough. The temperature isn’t hot enough.” She raises her hands and put quotes in the air. “‘We’re going to have people sending back cold food.’ Cold food my ass. He knows that the grill is hot enough. He checks it every five minutes. I don’t know what’s up his ass today, but I hope he gets over it before service is over.”

  I snort. Most of the kitchen feels comfortable talking to me about Solomon because I don’t judge them, and I’d never betray their confidence. But I also never say anything back. I have high ambitions, and I’m not going to put myself in the middle of other people’s drama and risk word getting back to Solomon. There would be no quicker way to sabotaging my career than that. I give my friends my ear and sympathy, but make sure a negative word about Solomon doesn’t cross my own lips. So far, my plan is working. Solomon told me recently that a promotion is coming. I’m not going to do anything to screw that up. Literally nothing.

  Jane—one of the servers—steps out into the alley as well. She comes out regularly to smoke, and to bitch about the way Solomon speaks to the servers. He definitely should be nicer to them, considering servers are the face of the entire restaurant. It’s their service and professionalism that leaves the greatest impression on our customers. And when Solomon is a dick to them, they aren’t at their best on the floor. These are all things that I’m filing away in my mind, for when I run my own restaurant one day.

  No one ever said that you only have to learn from the positive things. I find my greatest lessons in watching Solomon screw things up. What not to do.

  “Rage break, Melody?” Jane asks as she lights up a cigarette.

  Melody blows out a breath. “You know it. I was about to lose my shit, so I passed the grill to Miguel for a minute. He can handle it.”

  Jane nods to me. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  I keep scrolling through my phone, but I come back to the email with the plane reservation. Am I going to go? I don’t know why I would, but there’s something about the wording of the email. Something desperate but also kind. It draws me in and makes me want to find out what the hell is actually going on.

  Shit.

  I guess I’m going to Wyoming if I can get the time off. Frankly, I’ve only ever heard…well, nothing about Wyoming. Except for the fact that apparently it’s pretty and there are a lot of bison there.

  Jane and Melody continue blowing off steam. It never leads to anyone confronting Solomon, but it’s just enough of a release so they can get back in the kitchen with clearer heads

  The back door to the restaurant bangs open and Solomon strides out. Jane and Melody go silent instantly. “Of course,” he says with a hard edge to his voice. “Melody, we’re in the middle of a rush and it’s not time for your actual break. Get your ass back inside.”

  She rolls her eyes in my direction, but she goes. Jane puts out her unfinished cigarette and scurries back in as well, unwilling to face whatever was coming from Solomon. He looks over at me. “So I assume they were out here talking shit about me, right?”

  I lift my phone. “I wasn’t paying attention. I’m catching up on my emails.”

  He grunts and leans against the alley wall, taking a break himself.

  “By the way, I was going to ask you,” I say. “I know it’s short notice, but I need a couple of days off.”

  Solomon grins. “Mental health days? I kind of expected it with you working so hard. You can take whatever time you need.” Pushing off the wall, he steps toward me and puts a hand on my arm. “In fact, maybe since you’re taking some days off, we could spend some time together, away from the hot kitchen. Maybe have a non-business dinner. Get to know each other outside of work.”

  Oh, shit.

  Solomon definitely is, by conventional standards, very handsome. He’s tall and broad with dark hair and beard scruff that gives him a carefree European vibe. But he’s never been my type. And even if I found him the most attractive human being on the planet, I wouldn’t sleep with him. No way. It’s hard enough being a woman with ambition in this male-dominated industry. I would never risk my reputation by sleeping with anyone in this kitchen. I’ve seen too many women’s careers derailed by accusations of the sleeping their way to the top.

  Also, ew. I can’t separate the man from his ego and assholery.

  I pull my arm
away from him, definitively but also trying to hide my total disgust. “I’m not taking mental health days,” I say with a tight smile. “I need to go to Wyoming tomorrow on family business. It’s urgent. But I should only be out for a couple of days.”

  “Oh,” he says, clearly disappointed. He looks me up and down, and for the first time I realize that he’s looking at me not like a co-worker, but as a conquest. How long has he been looking at me like that and I hadn’t realized it?

  “All right. Well, have a safe trip.” His tone isn’t pleased. In fact, it’s borderline angry. But I can’t think about that right now. He said yes, and my break is up. Time to get back in the saddle and finish dinner service.

  Then, I guess, I’m packing for Wyoming.

  2

  Clayton

  I look out the window over the river, not absorbing the view in front of me, but looking past it, completely lost in my thoughts. I had hoped that the message that I’d gotten from Katie was wrong, and that this was all a dream, but it’s right in front of me. All of my worst fears.

  “I’m so sorry, Clayton,” she says. “But there’s still a way to make it right. I’m already working on it. Hopefully by the end of the day the ranch will be yours.”

  I fight back the instinct to growl at her. Katie is an older woman, and undeniably kind—especially for a lawyer. That’s a rarity in itself, and I’m not surprised about the fact that this was the person that Evelyn chose to trust with her estate. I am surprised that Evelyn’s last wishes can’t be followed.

  “Rocking R Ranch should already be mine, Katie,” I say, working hard to keep my voice even. “The will is incredibly clear. It’s black and white. There isn’t any reason to discredit it or think that I pressured her into changing it. It was signed long before I even knew that she was leaving the ranch to me.”

  Evelyn Roscoe. My heart still hurts when I think about her. It hasn’t been long since she died. It was definitely her time, and I’m grateful she went peacefully, but it still hurts that she’s gone. She wasn’t just my boss; she was my mentor. For so many years. She was more like a mother to me than my own family ever was.

  Despite our close relationship, I never imagined that she would leave the ranch to me. Rocking R was her baby—her whole life. She loved it like it was her child. She needed that land and open space like she needed oxygen. And whoever she met or brought on to that land, well they left with the same appreciation and love in their heart for the Rocking R as she had.

  And I vowed to her that I would take care of it. I would preserve her legacy as best I could. But it seems like the universe is doing everything in its power to try to stop me.

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Clayton,” Katie says gently. “No one is contesting the will.”

  “Then I don’t understand. What’s the problem?”

  “It goes well beyond the will or Evelyn’s wishes. Originally Rocking R Ranch was specifically a homestead. It’s been passed down for generations, but that original designation still matters.”

  I know that. It’s part of the history. Hell, I’m pretty sure that that exact line of owners is on the website and brochures for the resort on the property. “Right.”

  Katie sighs and pulls some papers from a folder before fanning them out on the table. I’m surprised these still exist, they’re so old. The papers are photocopies, but you can tell the originals must have been very delicate. The writing on the copies is faint, the creases and folds from the originals darker than the ink, probably signed over a hundred years ago. I can’t make out the writing.

  “This is the paperwork that was signed by Evelyn’s family generations ago, Clayton,” Katie begins, speaking slowly and carefully. “It is very clear that the homestead must be passed down through a familial chain, and if it isn’t, then the land has to revert back to property of the government with proper compensation. They were very clear that this document would supersede all future wills.”

  “Shit.” I mutter the word under my breath, momentarily ashamed that I would swear like that in front of someone like Katie. On the phone she said that there was a problem with the transfer of ownership, but I didn’t think that she meant something like this. I assumed I’d need to sign a few extra documents or pay some fees for transfer of liens. I couldn’t have predicted something like this, something that is so completely out of my control. Hell, this has nothing to do with the land today or how much I value it. This decision was made before I was even born. Before Evelyn was even born. I feel this dream slipping farther and farther away from me.

  “Do I have any options? Evelyn didn’t have any family.” I finally say, my voice sounding raspy since my mouth is completely dry.

  Katie’s mouth turns up into a sneaky smile. It’s both amazing and disturbing in a woman of her age. She’s been doing this a long time and I’m sure that she’s pinned men to the wall with that smile. “See, that’s not exactly true. Evelyn had a son.”

  I knew that. “He died ages ago.” And good riddance. Evelyn’s son was always a sore spot. He never gave her anything but grief when she was alive, and then that grief was insufferable after he died because she spent so much time imagining what could have been. It was a complicated relationship that caused her so much heartache. She felt like she failed him, even though there was nothing she could have done to make him better.

  “Yes, he did,” she says. “But not before he had a daughter. She lives in Colorado.”

  Shock rolls through me. Evelyn had a granddaughter? A brief flash of hope shines down on me before flickering out once again. “That’s good that it won’t immediately pass to the government, but how exactly does it help me if Rocking R just goes to a stranger?”

  Katie looks at me. “Evelyn wanted the ranch to go to you. The law says that it has to pass to a blood relative. There is a very simple way that both of those things can be accomplished.”

  Clarity, and then nausea, hit me in two distinct waves. I turn back to the window, this time using the view to distract me from the reality. Katie wants me to marry this woman. Evelyn’s granddaughter. A complete stranger.

  In my mind, the dreams I had in my head since I’d found out the ranch would be mine disappear. I’d imagined finding someone and raising a family together on the ranch. And when I got old enough, I would pass it on to my children as well. All of those dreams evaporate in a second with the idea of marrying this woman.

  But I swore to protect Evelyn’s legacy, and if marrying a stranger is the only way I can keep my promise, I will do it. No matter what it costs me. “What’s her name?” I ask.

  “Rachel Dover,” Katie says. “She took her mother’s last name. And this doesn’t have to change anything for you, Clayton. It’s purely a business arrangement. Nothing more. A means to an end.”

  I know logically that it’s true, but it doesn’t feel that way. “And you think that she would actually agree to this?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know, but she’ll be here this afternoon and we’ll find out.”

  “What?” Brand new shock straightens my spine.

  That smirk again. “I’m flying her out from Denver. She confirmed. We have a few hours to work out the details of what you want so that we can present a united front. We have to make sure this deal is lucrative enough for her, and also make sure it’s iron-clad so you end up with what’s rightfully yours, and we fulfill Evelyn’s last wishes.”

  I shake my head. It’s not what I want, but if this is the way that it has to be, then I will make it work. “All right then,” I say. “Let’s get to work.” And I sit down to plan how I’m going to marry a stranger.

  The more that I think about this the more that I dislike it. I’ve put my life into Rocking R Ranch, and the idea that I have to bend over backwards to save my life’s work from an archaic law grinds under my skin and makes me clench my jaw. And the more I think about marrying this girl—the daughter of Evelyn’s one true source of pain—the more uncomfortable I am.

 
She’s a villain in this story whether or not she realizes it, and I’ve already built her up into someone that it’s easy to hate, despite the fact that I’ve never met her.

  Katie and I strategized, and it’s a good pitch. But we’ve never met Ms. Dover before. We can’t predict how she’s going to react, and if she’s anything like her father…Hell, this could all backfire and she walks away with the ranch.

  We’re in the same conference room overlooking the river, Katie and I sitting on one side of the conference table awaiting the arrival of Rachel Dover.

  I turn the name over in my head, trying to put a face to the name. Trying to get used to the fact that this stranger holds so much power over me. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to be in this uncomfortable suit or away from the ranch when there are things that need doing. I’m feeling trapped.

  All I know about this woman is that she works in the food industry, and that her mother is dead as well. There honestly wasn’t a lot to dig up on her, even with Katie’s extensive resources. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

  Katie’s secretary opens the door, and I’m prepared for an even more visceral hate to fill me up, so bitter that I could already taste it in my mouth. I’m ready to hold myself back from anger and pretend that I’m okay for the sake of my promise to Evelyn.

  What I’m not ready for is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen to walk into the room. Waves of dark hair fall around her shoulders, framing a delicate face that could easily be at home on a magazine cover. Legs in dark leggings that go one for what feel like miles. Perfect curves barely hidden under her dress; a style that looks like a large button-down shirt belted at the waist.