One Week with the Best Man: Reclaimed by the Rancher

by Andrea Laurence

  A hymen, that’s what.

  The look on Julian’s face when she said the words had been heartbreaking. One minute, he’d looked at her with blue eyes hooded with desire. She had no doubt in that moment that he sincerely wanted her. Not even her fragile ego could believe otherwise. Then, in a flash, it was replaced by panic. She knew the moment the words left her mouth that it was a mistake.

  Julian wanted fun, flirty sex. A hot wedding hookup. Deflowering some thirty-year-old virgin probably didn’t line up with his plans. She’d accused him of trying to escape, but at that point, she wanted out of there more desperately than he did. She needed plenty of time to get home, lie in bed and kick herself.

  Fortunately, today had been about wedding preparations. She spent most of the afternoon getting things in place in the chapel before the rehearsal. That kept her busy enough that she could keep her embarrassing incident far out of her mind. When she did see Julian again, there wasn’t much time to talk. First was the rehearsal, and he was on the platform with Murray and Kelly. After that, they all got ushered onto a limo bus and taken to the restaurant for the rehearsal dinner. They hadn’t had two seconds alone, much less time to talk.

  Part of her was okay with that. She didn’t feel the need to analyze last night with him. She just needed to get through the next two days and put all of this behind her. But it was hard when he was always touching her. Holding her hand, hugging her to his side, whispering in her ear. It just made her want what she was destined not to have that much more intensely.

  One of the waiters placed a piping hot ramekin of peach cobbler in front of her with vanilla bean ice cream melting over it. It looked amazing, and the thought of a tasty treat was enough to rouse her from her dark thoughts. She needed to play the happy girlfriend regardless of what was going on between them.

  “That looks good,” Julian said, leaning in to examine her dessert. “Decadent, actually.”

  “Didn’t you get dessert?” she asked, already knowing the answer but trying to make polite conversation.

  He shook his head and took a sip of his water. He’d spent the evening nibbling on blackened tilapia and roasted vegetables. “Just because you dared me to eat that berry tart doesn’t mean I’ve thrown my clean eating lifestyle out the window.”

  “Would you like just one bite? I mean, I know you don’t want to be first, but I thought you might want the second bite.” She couldn’t help getting that dig in under the veiled discussion of dessert so the others at the table couldn’t follow the twists and turns of their relationship.

  A look of surprise lit up Julian’s face, his lips twisting into an amused smile. “For the record, I don’t mind having the first taste. I just feel guilty getting the first bite when I know I can’t stay around to eat the whole thing.”

  “The cobbler won’t be offended, I assure you. It just wants to be eaten while it’s still hot and juicy. Before long, it’s going to be a cold, crusty, bitter mess.”

  “I sincerely doubt that. I know turning that treat down last night was a mistake, but as it was, I spent two hours in the hotel gym last night.”

  Her gaze met his. “Feeling guilty?”

  He nodded. “I had a little pent-up energy after I left you. Ten miles on the treadmill helped, but I still felt like crap when I was done.”

  “You can run all you want, but if you’re on a treadmill, you aren’t getting any farther from your problems.”

  “Wise words,” he agreed. “Exercise does help me think. If nothing else, I got some...clarity.”

  Gretchen narrowed her gaze at him, her heart suddenly leaping to life in her chest. “What does that mean?”

  “It means we need to talk.”

  She rolled her eyes and turned back to her dessert. Talk? She’d done plenty of that already. If all he wanted to do was talk, she was going to save this poor cobbler from her own fate. She picked up her spoon and scooped up a bite, stopping as Julian leaned in.

  “Soon,” he whispered into her ear. The spoon trembled in her hand as she held it in midair. “I don’t know when, but soon. Don’t you worry about that dessert going uneaten.”

  Gretchen drew in a ragged breath. Suddenly, she wasn’t that hungry for cobbler anymore. The idea that she might be naked in front of him in the near future was an appetite killer.

  “So, Julian,” one of the bridesmaids called across the table. “Are you guys ready for the bachelor party tonight?”

  Julian sat up and flashed his charming smile at the others seated with them. “Absolutely. I’ve got a great night planned for the boys.”

  One of the other women looked at her date with a warning glance. “Try to limit yourself to one lap dance, please.”

  The man laughed. “Why? I’m not the one getting married tomorrow. You afraid I’ll be tempted by the goods?”

  The brunette shook her head. “No, I’m worried you’ll stick your whole paycheck in her panties and come back to me broke.”

  “Well, if I do, maybe Julian can help me out. I heard you made fifteen million for your last movie. Is that true?”

  Gretchen felt Julian stiffen beside her. For the first time while they were together, he was the nervous one. He’d mentioned a few times about how people seemed to come to him with their hands out. This guy didn’t even know Julian, not really. It was veiled as a joke, but it wasn’t funny. She didn’t like seeing Julian react that way.

  “And exactly how much money did you make last year?” she piped up before Julian could respond.

  The man’s eyes grew wide at her sharp tone and he immediately held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry,” he said. “It was a joke. I mean, if I made that much money, I’d be shouting it from the rooftops.”

  “And everyone, including the IRS and some guy you don’t even know at a rehearsal dinner, would be knocking on your front door looking for their piece.”

  The large, burly groomsman seemed to disappear into himself. “I’m going to go get a drink from the bar,” he said, getting up and crossing the room. The other people turned to each other and started talking among themselves to avoid the awkward turn in the conversation.

  “Rawr.” Julian leaned in and growled into her ear. “I didn’t know you were such a tiger.”

  Gretchen chuckled. “Neither did I. But I couldn’t sit there and say nothing. Just because you’re a public figure doesn’t mean it’s any of his business how much you make.”

  Julian smiled. “It isn’t as exciting as it sounds anyway. I mean, I have plenty, don’t get me wrong, but the bigger the life, the bigger the expenses. The mortgage on my house in Beverly Hills is nearly thirty thousand a month.”

  Gretchen nearly choked on her sip of wine. “That’s insane.”

  “That’s California real estate for you. Add in the ridiculous property taxes and insurance, security, staff...it adds up. Uncle Sam gets his whopping cut, then Ross, then my accountant.”

  “Do I need to give this necklace back?”

  “No, of course not. I wouldn’t live in a five-million-dollar house if I couldn’t afford to. Life is just on a different scale when you live this way, is all.”

  Gretchen shook her head and reached into her purse to find her phone. It was getting late. As much as she was enjoying the dinner and curious to finish her interrupted conversation with Julian, she needed to get back and finish up the ballroom for tomorrow. “I’d better go.”

  Julian pouted, the frown pulling at the corners of his full mouth. Gretchen wanted to kiss it away, but resisted. Instead, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You have fun with the boys tonight. Don’t let Murray get too hungover. Natalie hates it when the wedding party is teetering on their feet all day.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll walk you out.”

  “No, no,” she insisted, pushing him back into his seat. “I can make it j
ust fine. Your loyalty is to Murray tonight.”

  Gretchen stood up, and he scooped her hand into his own. He brought it up to his lips, placing a searing kiss on the back of her hand. The heated tingle radiated up her whole arm, making her flush pink against the deep shades of purple fabric that made up her dress.

  “I’ll see you soon,” he said, emphasizing the last word. That was the same word he’d used earlier when they spoke about their physical relationship.

  She pulled her hand away and tried to cover her reaction with a smile. “Okay,” she said. “Good night.”

  Gretchen gave a parting wave to Murray and Kelly before slipping out. It wasn’t until she stepped out that she realized they’d all come in the limo van, including Bree. With a shake of her head, she called a cab and waited patiently outside for it to arrive.

  It was just as well. She needed the cold air to cool the fire Julian had so easily built inside her.

  * * *

  Julian was over the bachelor party scene. He’d done his duty and set up a great send-off for Murray, complete with alcohol, scantily clad women and billiards, but it wasn’t really where he wanted to spend his time. Not since his discussion with Gretchen at the rehearsal dinner.

  He’d relived that moment by her car over and over in his head since it happened. He had expected a lot of different reasons for why she shied away from him, but none of them included the fact that she’d never been with a man before. In this day and age, that sort of thing was almost unheard of.

  Admittedly, he hadn’t reacted well to the news, and he felt horrible about it. He’d told her about his two-hour treadmill penance, but that wasn’t the half of it. He’d barely slept that night thinking about how badly he handled her confession. It hadn’t been because he felt as if there were something wrong with her, or that she was strange, but because he’d felt this sudden pressure he wasn’t expecting.

  Being a woman’s first lover was a big responsibility. When he was sixteen and horny, he hadn’t thought about it that way, and he knew of at least one girl who’d had a less-than-stellar first time because of how he’d handled it. Now he was a grown man. An experienced lover. It was bad enough that he had a reputation because of his films that he was some hard-bodied Casanova. Adding the delicate handling of a woman’s first time on top of that made his chest tighten.

  Gretchen had made it sound as though she would be happy to be rid of the burden of her virginity. It would be doing her a favor, somehow. And he wanted her. There was no doubt of that. But was making love to Gretchen selfish? Was taking her virginity and then returning to LA a horrible thing to do, even if she’d asked him to? Just the thought of it made him feel sleazy.

  Speaking of sleazy, a woman in a corset and a thong was making her way over to him. She had multiple bills tucked into her G-string and a coat of glitter across her tan skin, reminding him of his own ill-fated turn as a stripper in a movie. The kind of movies he hated. The kind of films Gretchen encouraged him to branch out from.

  The burlesque dancer wrapped her feather boa around Julian’s neck to pull him closer. Putting a few obligatory dollars beneath the strap at her hip, he waved her back toward the groom. Murray was the one who deserved the attention tonight, not him.

  Julian looked down at his phone to check his messages. He didn’t want anything to be wrong at home, but it would give him an excuse to leave. Murray had been his roommate in college, so he knew all about Julian’s family and how things tended to crop up. Thankfully, all was well, but unfortunately it was only a little after ten. Was that too soon to leave? He sighed and put his phone away. Probably. The cigar roller hadn’t even finished making all the cigars yet.

  Then he caught Murray’s gaze across the room. His friend smiled and shook his head. “Go,” he mouthed silently, then turned back to the busty blonde vying for his attention.

  That was all it took. He stood and walked toward the edge of the room, trying to slowly slip out without making a big deal of it. Once he made it out the door, he climbed into his SUV, thankful that they hadn’t taken the limo bus directly from the rehearsal dinner so he had a vehicle to make his escape. Inside his car, he texted Gretchen.

  Where are you?

  As the engine warmed up, he got a response. In the ballroom hanging seventy thousand crystal pendants. Care to join me?

  He did. Putting the phone aside, he pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to From This Moment. Once again, Gretchen’s little green sedan was the only car in the lot when he arrived. Apparently everyone else had already given up for the night.

  He headed straight for the ballroom, as she’d said she’d be there, but he didn’t see her. Her handiwork was evident, though. The room had been absolutely transformed since he’d been there the day before. The tables now had an assortment of glasses and flatware at each place setting. The tall silver candelabras he’d moved the night before stood in the center of some tables. Others had slim silver vases or small silver bowls. There were candles scattered all over and tall white trees in the corners, dripping with crystals. It looked as though the only thing missing was the fresh flowers.

  “Just wait until the pin lights are on and all the candles are lit,” Gretchen said, coming in behind him with a box in her arms. “It will be magical.”

  “I bet. You’re very talented.”

  Gretchen snorted and moved past him to set the box on the edge of the stage where the band would set up in the morning. She was still wearing the flirty purple dress she’d worn to the rehearsal dinner, only now she was barefoot, having cast aside her heels for the sake of comfort. “You’re very kind, but it’s a table setting, not a Picasso.”

  Julian followed her path, slowly coming up behind her as she unpacked tiny attendee gifts to place on the tables. When she stood, he snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her back tight against him. The soft curve of her backside pressed into his desire, suppressing all the reasons why he couldn’t be with Gretchen. What if he could give her something without taking anything away? It might take every ounce of restraint he had, but he wanted this so badly. “I’ve thought a lot about our discussion at dinner.”

  Gretchen gasped softly, although he wasn’t certain if it was his words or his obvious need for her. “And?” she asked in almost a hushed whisper.

  “And it made me wonder.” Julian nestled into her neck, planting warm kisses under her earlobe between phrases. “You said you’re a virgin, but have you ever had an orgasm before?”

  Gretchen chuckled. “Yes, I have. I might be a virgin, but I’m also a grown woman perfectly capable of managing my needs when necessary.”

  Now Julian had to laugh. She always surprised him, especially with her bold honesty, even in the face of potentially embarrassing questions. “Has someone else ever given you one?” he pressed.

  “No.”

  “I’d like to.”

  She shivered as he pressed another kiss along the soft skin of her neck. “Um...right now?”

  Not the ideal location, but why the hell not? “Yes, right now.” His palm slid across her torso, venturing to her low belly, then to the side of her hip and down. He moved until he reached her smooth bare thigh, shifting the hem of her dress a few inches higher to stroke it. Then he stopped. “Unless you’d rather wait,” he said.

  After a slight hesitation, Gretchen arched her back, pressing the curve of her rear firmly against his erection. “I think twenty-nine years is long enough to wait, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  Julian turned her in his arms so she was facing him. Despite her bold declaration, he could still sense anxiety in her. She bit at her bottom lip, her dark eyes both challenging him and nervously flickering toward the door and back. He could imagine that the mix of emotions was confusing, but he wouldn’t let her psych herself out about this. It was happening.

  Dipping his hea
d down, he kissed her. She started to relax with the familiar activity, wrapping her arms around his neck. She let her tongue slide boldly along his own, eliciting a low groan deep in his throat. Keeping this all about her pleasure would be hard when she touched him like this, but he could do it. He was determined.

  Julian encircled her waist, pulling her toward him and guiding her backward toward the stage. Once her calves met with the wooden platform, he eased her back until she was sitting on the edge. He tore his lips away from hers, lowering himself to his knees in front of her. Gretchen’s eyes grew wide as she watched him put his palms on each bare knee.

  With his eyes trained on hers, he pressed gently, parting her legs little by little until he could move between them. He slid his hands up her thighs, pushing the purple fabric of her dress up and out of his way, stopping just short of exposing her. He could feel her muscles tense beneath his touch, so he changed his tactic. Julian wanted her fully relaxed for this.

  He kissed her again, distracting her with his lips and tongue as he slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders. It didn’t take much for the fabric to slide down, exposing the bra beneath it. He cupped one breast, slowly stroking and teasing at the nipple through the sheer black fabric. Gretchen groaned against his mouth, her reaction encouraging him to break away from the kiss and draw her nipple into his mouth.

  Gretchen’s head went back, a cry of pleasure escaping her lips. It echoed in the large ballroom like music to his ears. He continued to tease her through the moist fabric, the distraction it provided allowing him to move his hand beneath her skirt. He found that the panties were made of the same sheer material. When his fingers brushed across her most sensitive spot, Gretchen gasped, her hips rising up off the stage.

  Julian eased Gretchen back until she was lying on the stage. She protested at first, but he didn’t want her nervously watching everything he did. “Just lie back, close your eyes and enjoy it,” he said soothingly until the tension eased from her body.