Finally His Bride (Montana Born Brides Series Book 4)

by Maisey Yates

  He looked…like Luke, familiar and warm and everything she’d ever wanted in a man. And also, not like Luke.

  He seemed edgier. Darker. The bruise staining the skin around his eye, the barely restrained violence in his posture…

  It should make her want to run away from him. But it didn’t. No, the difference fascinated her. Tempted her.

  To move closer. To try again.

  To make it clear that she wanted something more from him than his overprotective BFF routine.

  But that was the fruity drinks talking. She’d had a couple tonight. A little liquid courage to help with Mission Virginity Loss.

  For all the good it had done. She just felt dizzy and annoyed.

  “Get. In. The. Car,” he repeated.

  And since the only man she wanted was standing out here, and there was nothing for her back in there, she obeyed.

  Chapter Two

  ‡

  Melanie shifted in her seat, making sure her shoulder strap was in the appropriate position. Then she tugged the skirt on her dress down so that it covered a little more of her thighs. What had felt fine, even exciting, back in the bar, now just felt self-conscious sitting in the car with Luke.

  She was so aware. Of every bit of bare skin. Of how tight the material was. Of just how hard he must think she was trying. Because she was trying hard. And of course Luke would know that. He knew how she usually looked. And pretty much had zero reaction to it.

  He’d had a reaction to this. But it wasn’t exactly the reaction she’d always hoped for.

  Of course, another man had been touching her.

  Luke didn’t seem like he was jealous, though. He just seemed like he’d gone into some fugue caveman state where he disregarded the rules of polite society, while forgetting that women were full-fledged people and not objects at the same time.

  “Where are you taking me?” She tried to look out the window, but the blur of buildings glowing in the streetlights made her dizzy.

  Thanks, alcohol.

  “I’m staying at the motel just out of town.”

  Melanie rolled her eyes. “Classy.”

  “I’m on a budget, Mel.”

  “You’re taking me back to your motel?”

  “Didn’t you want to go home with a guy tonight?”

  “Not with you,” she said through gritted teeth. The annoying thing was, that was a lie. Part of her had always wanted to go home with Luke. From the first moment she’d understood what that meant.

  It had been a jarring realization for teenage Mel. Luke had always been a safe space, the only man she’d ever trusted. But once those churning, shaky, stomach-tightening, knee-wobbling, attraction feelings had been introduced things had gotten a little bit difficult on her end.

  So yeah, the past decade of their friendship, really. She’s been a late bloomer when it had come to men, thanks to her past. But good Lord, if her Luke feelings had started any earlier she would have imploded by now. Of course, had she been normal, she wouldn’t be a twenty-eight-year-old virgin with nothing but sweaty dreams about her best friend to count as sexual experience.

  Had she been normal, she probably would have gone out and found a man who was actually interested in her a lot longer ago.

  Now that she finally had, Luke was here meddling.

  “Just take me home,” she mumbled, feeling suddenly sleepy and a little bit ill.

  “I am exhausted. I’m not driving you all the way out to the cabin.”

  “My car is at the bar,” she said, knowing she sounded like she was whining now.

  “I imagine you were going to ditch it anyway. At least take a cab, right? Because you’ve had some drinks.”

  Well, he wasn’t wrong. About either thing.

  They turned the corner, taking the road that led away from the main part of town, and out toward the main highway. They passed by the gun mart and the gas station, continuing on until the faint lights of town faded.

  The longer they drove, the more clearly Melanie realized neither of them had a plan. Luke had no clue what he was doing right now, and Melanie hadn’t had any idea of what she was doing all night. Not from the moment she’d sat down at that table with that guy – Joel. For some reason remembering his name seemed unimportant – to the moment Luke had carried her out of the bar, and demanded she get in his car.

  There was a little alcove where the trees thinned, a fluorescent security light shining down on a nearly vacant parking lot. A tall, faded sign bearing the name Grizzly Lodge was clearly visible thanks to the bright green neon outlining the words.

  “Very nice, Shuller. A real palace.”

  “Probably where you would have ended up if you would have gone home with that drunk-ass cowboy.”

  She cringed internally, because he was probably right.

  As if on cue, a cab pulled into the lot, parking across the way from them. And when the first passenger got out, she saw that it was indeed Joel. He was not hurting for company. A redhead got out of the other side and Melanie gritted her teeth in frustration. That woman was getting Melanie’s sex, and all Melanie was getting was a lecture.

  “Look at that. See what I mean? He didn’t exactly respect you.”

  Melanie rolled her eyes and let out a growl. “You’re assuming I wanted him to.”

  “Out of the car. Now.”

  She undid her seatbelt and slammed it against the side of the car with a bit more ferocity than was necessary, then she got out, slamming the door behind her. She heard Luke’s door close behind hers.

  He said nothing as he stopped at the nearest bright red door, taking a key out of his pocket and jiggling it in the lock, pushing it open and extending his arm as though he were a gentleman magnanimously allowing her first entry into a grand suite.

  She stomped past him, her high heels sinking into the faded, tacky-looking carpet, causing her to pitch sideways. For the second time that night, Luke grabbed her by the arm, holding her upright. He closed the door behind them, doing up the deadbolt, his hand still wrapped around her arm.

  “You can let go of me.” She proceeded to lean against him while she reached down and grabbed hold of the heel of her shoe, taking it off, then repeating the motion with the other one.

  “Okay, now let go of me,” she said, stumbling as she straightened.

  “How drunk are you?” He looked furious now.

  She squinted. “I’m not drunk. I only had three drinks.” Now that the anger was fading, she felt a little bit lightheaded, though. “And they were pretty drinks.”

  “Have you ever had three drinks in one sitting in your life, Melanie Richards?”

  “No. No I haven’t. And you know what else? I’ve never had sex.” The words just sort of exploded from her, with no thought or reason. She spun around and sat on the bed, falling backward on the pine tree-covered comforter.

  Luke made a sound that hovered somewhere between a groan and a growl. “Why are we talking about this?”

  “Because you like…cock blocked me.” She opened her eyes and looked up just in time to see a blanket floating up in the air, settling over her, from the top of her head down to her feet. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice muffled by the fabric.

  “You are going to sleep. You’re going to not talk to me anymore. You’re going to share no more personal information with me whatsoever. Sleep.”

  “You are”—she fought to get out of the blanket, gasping for fresh air when she found it—“ornery tonight.”

  “And you are helpless tonight.”

  “I’m not.” She was sleepy though. Maybe she was a little bit more sauced than she’d given herself credit for. Everything had seemed perfectly clear in the bar, and after that, anger had provided a buffer between herself and the booze. But now all the adrenaline was wearing off and she just felt deflated. She had tried to do something big. And she had done nothing instead.

  “Go to sleep, little girl. I’ll yell at you more in the morning.”

  Luke cro
ssed over to the faded, threadbare sofa against the back wall of the room and plopped down, kicking his boots off, putting his hands behind his head. She couldn’t help but admire his silhouette, couldn’t help but stare at the muscles in his biceps as he ran his fingers through his dark brown hair. He sighed heavily.

  “You don’t have to sleep over there,” she said, feeling her face heat. “I don’t want to take your bed.”

  He froze, arching one dark brow. “I think I’ll stay over here.”

  She wasn’t entirely sure if she’d been propositioning him just then, or if she was being nice. The restless ache between her thighs, and the heaviness in her breasts told her she was probably propositioning him. Why did she still want Luke? It was so patently clear he didn’t want her. And making any kind of overt move would only compromise their friendship. If not kill it dead.

  “You don’t have to.” She wanted to stuff the edge of the blanket into her mouth to make herself shut up.

  “Yeah, I do.” His voice sounded strained, weird.

  “Why?”

  Silence settled between them. “Go to sleep, Mel.”

  She was on the verge of opening her mouth to tell him she couldn’t, when a deep heaviness settled over her. She was only going to close her eyes for a couple of seconds. And then she was going to tell him exactly what she thought of all of his commands.

  *

  Luke did the very meanest thing he could think to do the next morning. He threw the curtains back, letting the early morning sunlight flood the tiny hotel room. But he was sore, he was grumpy, and he felt very much like taking it out on Mel. She was, after all, the cause of a good deal of his problems.

  “Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

  She curled more deeply into a ball beneath the thin, knitted blanket he had thrown on top of her last night, her blonde hair tangled up over her face.

  She made a snorting noise and rolled onto her back, strands of hair stuck to her lips. She looked like a cautionary tale, and his body should respond accordingly. Or at least, should respond like it was looking at a friend and not a potential playmate. Sadly, neither was the case.

  “Melanie,” he said, increasing the volume of his voice. “Mel!”

  She startled, pushing her hair off her face, and opening her eyes. Then she grimaced, squeezing them shut tight again and rolling back to her side, burying her face in the bedspread. “Ow.”

  “The morning after isn’t all that pretty, is it?”

  “Why are you talking?”

  “Because I’m a mean son of a bitch who spent the night on a couch.” After he’d felt the curves of her body pressed against him as he’d carried her out of the bar, after she had expressed anguish over not getting to hook up, and after she had told him that she was a virgin. He deserved a medal. A gold-plated one. No, a solid gold one that he could melt down into currency and pay off all his debt with.

  A man who had been struggling with an inappropriate attraction to his best friend—a best friend who needed protection, not penetration—should not have to know things like that.

  Though, he’d had a feeling she was probably mostly untouched. He knew her. He knew that she didn’t exactly date. Knew that she didn’t go out to bars, knew that she had a lot of hangups where relationships were concerned. But he didn’t think about it. He tried as hard as he could not think about her in those terms.

  Trying was not always succeeding, but he did try.

  “You’re not mean,” she said.

  He grabbed hold of her blanket, and pulled it from her body. She squeaked, and curled up more tightly until he could see a fair bit more of her leg than he imagined she wanted him to. “Care to revise that opinion?”

  She slid toward the edge of the bed, her black skirt rising up to a dangerous point. And he shouldn’t be watching with keen interest, that was certain. He should look away.

  He didn’t. He would consider it recompense for the night on the couch that he was absolutely too tall for.

  She rubbed her eyes, smearing her already smeared eye makeup in an even more exaggerated fashion. She looked like a bleary raccoon just making her way out of a burrow.

  “Oh yeah. I forgot about last night. You’re a jackass.” She rolled her shoulders forward and grimaced as she tilted her head to the side. “And also you took my blanket.”

  “Yeah. Well. It’s nine in the morning.”

  “Oh, damn!”

  “Yeah.”

  “I have cake stuff,” she said, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of her nose.

  “I imagine the cake can wait.”

  “Bleh. I feel like I licked the inside of your boot.”

  He snorted. “Yeah. Well, you can’t use my toothbrush so we better get your barely-covered ass home so you can use your own.”

  She stood, wobbling slightly as she walked over to the door, where she’d discarded her shoes last night. She clumsily, and not very modestly, put the shoes back on, and he did his best to keep from taking in the whole show on offer.

  His best, it turned out, wasn’t all that good.

  “Let’s go,” she mumbled, unlocking the front door and opening it.

  When the sunlight filtered in, she recoiled like a vampire, and he couldn’t help but laugh at her. She was a lightweight. Who’d probably never been remotely hungover before.

  Considering the torment she’d put him through the past eight hours or so, he felt like he was owed at least a moment to relish her discomfort.

  “Are you cold?” he asked. He could only enjoy her discomfort for so long.

  “A little.”

  The sun in Montana was still a little bit thin in May, not quite managing to warm the chilly mountain air around them. “Okay, hang on.” He reached toward the side table by the door and grabbed his leather jacket. Then he joined her outside, holding it out toward her. She just stared at it like he was offering her a headless lizard. “I’m trying to be chivalrous, dammit. Don’t make it so difficult.”

  “What?”

  He let out a heavy sigh and walked toward her, then behind her, draping the jacket over her shoulders. “See? Chivalry.”

  “Thanks.” She opened the passenger door of his car and got inside.

  He waited a moment before joining her, taking a breath of fresh air before he committed to breathing Melanie-scented air for the next few minutes. He closed the door and jammed his key in the ignition, starting the engine.

  He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, but he heard her shifting in the seat next to him. “Oh my gosh!”

  He looked over at her, and saw that she was examining her reflection in the mirror on the sun shade. “This is why they call it the walk of shame, Mel.” He put the car in reverse and pulled out of his parking space. “Clothes from the night before, in the woman’s case, makeup running halfway down her face, hair pointing every which way. And just think, if I hadn’t grabbed you out of Grey’s last night you would have been waking up with a total stranger looking like this. Except, probably naked.”

  He kept his eyes on the road as he pulled out of the driveway and headed back toward town, but he saw Melanie fold in half in her seat, her head between her knees. “Don’t remind me.”

  “Yeah, the broad light of day has a way of showing all the flaws from the night before. Lucky for you, you didn’t make a huge mistake. Because of me.”

  “I wanted to make the mistake.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Really? Even this morning, you still stand by that?”

  “Yes.”

  “See you were going to… You can’t do that, Mel. Your virginity is a big deal. You can’t just give it to some random guy in a bar.”

  “That is exactly the right person to give it to!” She exploded. “I’m not looking to get married right now. But I need to not be some scared, awkward little freak, who jumps every time she sees her shadow. I’ve let my past become bigger than anything in the present. It’s not right. It’s not normal. I just wanted to deal with it and move on. I want to
start dating. I want to be normal.”

  “Why would you want to be normal? You’re better than normal. You’re you.”

  She made a scoffing sound. “Well, better than normal means thoroughly untouched and more than a little bit lonely.”

  For a full ten seconds he didn’t know how to respond. Mainly because he could see nothing wrong with her remaining untouched. He didn’t like to think of Melanie as a sexual being. Though, this seemed to be the week for experiencing uncomfortable revelations about the women in his life. Melanie was out in a mini skirt trying to hook up, Kaitlin was pregnant.

  Oh, fuck. Kaitlin was pregnant. He had allowed himself to be diverted by the Melanie crisis last night. Frankly, he needed the diversion. Because if he dwelled too long on the Kaitlin crisis he would lapse into some kind of rage, and literally kill Beckett.

  He couldn’t really see a downside to that right now, but he imagined later he might.

  “I’ll take you back to get your car,” he said, needing the subject to change. Badly.

  “Thanks.”

  They made the rest of the ride back to town in silence, and Luke was grateful. He wasn’t quite sure when his life had turned completely upside down, or why, he only knew that it had. He was pretty sure it had started sometime around Sierra’s wedding. First of all, his youngest sister had gotten married. There was something slightly wrong about that. As far as he was concerned, she was barely out of diapers. But, given that Sierra had always been a wild child, it was a relief to have her settled in many ways.

  Of course, he knew now that it was at the wedding that Beckett had made his move on Kaitlin.

  Then there had been that strange moment with Mel. Out back in the field behind the building Sierra’s reception had been in. He’d been drinking a beer, settled back against the top rail of the fence watching the party through a window, watching his little sister dance wearing a bridal gown, when he was pretty damn sure he’d been watching her dance around playing dress-up in a princess dress just yesterday. Melanie had come out to join him and there had been this moment… Insanity, that was all that could explain it. Some kind of weird, emotional breakdown that happened because his baby sister had pledged her whole life to a guy that Luke had always thought was kind of a douchebag.