Blissed (Misfit Brides #1)

by Jamie Farrell

  A minute later, she was back, but obviously not to stay. She snagged her purse and coat. “Client emergency,” she said tersely. “I’ve gotta run. You okay here?”

  Natalie had only a vague idea what kinds of emergencies Lindsey dealt with, but she knew it wasn’t good and the police would probably be involved. “Don’t worry about me. You go.”

  “Rain check on finishing,” Lindsey called over her shoulder. She already had her phone back to her ear.

  “Don’t make threats you can’t follow through on,” Natalie called back.

  But when the door shut behind Lindsey, Natalie realized that inebriation wasn’t the only thing keeping her from getting home tonight. “Shit.”

  “That one of your quarter words?” CJ asked on his way past with a plate of onion rings.

  “How do you know about my quarter words?”

  “People talk. Heard your dollar words are really bad.”

  “Yep. I save ’em for Knot Fest meetings.”

  He flashed a smile at her—for her—but moved down the bar to deliver the onion rings to the CJ fan club.

  Natalie needed to call a cab. Put an end to a night of fun, leave CJ to his real choices for a stand-in bride.

  He was watching her watch him in the mirror behind the bar.

  She blew out a slow breath. She shouldn’t do this. The Queen General would torch her tiara. Or kick her off the Knot Fest committee. Or—or keep her from taking what could be the best risk of her life.

  “Well, now, what’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a place like this?”

  Startled, Natalie tore her gaze from CJ. The guy sliding into the seat to her right was neatly groomed from his sandy blond hair and designer beard to his custom-fit blazer over a plaid button-down shirt and distressed jeans. There was something both approachable and off-limits about him. His cheesy grin said he knew exactly how bad the line was, and Natalie couldn’t help smiling back.

  “This seat taken?” he said.

  CJ had turned back to his fan club.

  “Finders, keepers,” Natalie said to the guy.

  His smile shifted to half-friendly, half-flirty. It should’ve done something for her but didn’t. She half-wished it would’ve. If she was thinking about dating, or scratching itches, better to do it with a guy the QG didn’t care about.

  He stuck his hand out. “Josh.”

  She shook it and glanced at CJ again.

  He was talking to one of the waitresses now. “Natalie,” she said to Josh.

  “You from around here?”

  “All my life. You?”

  “In from Chicago checking on some business.”

  CJ turned, and Josh made an I-need-a-drink gesture at him.

  CJ’s eyes narrowed. Natalie’s pulse leapt.

  “You work on the weddings, or you from the other side of the tracks here?” Josh said.

  “The Aisle.”

  Josh laughed. “So you’re one of The Aisle people too.”

  She had CJ’s full attention now. And he wasn’t smiling at all.

  Her pulse jumped higher.

  “Only kind of,” she said to Josh. “I’m the resident divorced single mother in the Most Married-est Town on Earth, living the dream in the wedding biz because of who my parents are.”

  Oh, God.

  She just said that.

  So she still wasn’t datable, but now it was because she wasn’t fit to be out in public.

  Maybe she should yell “Vagina!” too.

  Josh’s grin turned genuine. “Excellent,” he said with a head bob.

  Natalie couldn’t help it. She laughed.

  CJ, though, glowered.

  He was jealous.

  Her heart was going at a full-on gallop now. If he wanted her, truth was, he’d have to put up with a lot of her shit. Might as well see what the man was made of.

  She kept her smile and aimed it at Josh. “So what kind of business are you in, Josh?” Jewelry, she’d bet. Maybe music.

  “Dessert.”

  His flirting was doing absolutely nothing for her. Nothing except for making sure CJ had eyes only for her.

  How could she not smile about that? “On The Aisle?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  Her mind slowly caught up to the conversation.

  Dessert. Unfortunately. On The Aisle.

  Natalie’s whiskey sour rolled over the cheese fries in her belly. “Cake?” she sputtered. It could’ve been chocolates. Or the sweets shop. Even the tea house.

  But she doubted it.

  A rude cough from the other side of the bar interrupted them. “Soda?” CJ asked Josh. “Tea?”

  “Dirty martini.” Josh slid Natalie another grin. “I’ve earned it today.”

  He probably had. And Natalie might’ve understood Kimmie’s bolting now.

  The thought trickled in right behind her complete certainty that this guy had no interest in the well-being of Bliss. He had playboy written all over him, and that absolutely didn’t fit with Bliss’s Most Married-est image.

  She felt an actual, honest-to-God pang of sympathy for Marilyn Elias.

  “One dirty martini, coming up,” CJ said. He turned an inscrutable emerald stare on Natalie, and her stomach flipped inside out. “Why’d you run off Lindsey?” he said.

  “Work emergency.”

  “That normal?”

  “Happens occasionally. It’s never good.” She forced a smile. “Missing her help?”

  His full-on, just-for-her grin made her girly bits sigh. “She’s already given me everything I need.” He winked at Natalie, then went back to work.

  Josh eyed her, then CJ. “Your boyfriend?”

  “No.” Not yet. And probably not for long. But she definitely wanted to see what else his hands and mouth and body could do to her.

  Josh twisted on his stool so he was facing her, so-let’s-have-fun lingering in his grin. “Want to make him jealous anyway?”

  She shouldn’t have laughed. Josh—oh, boy. Josh. Danger zone. “Heaven’s Bakery?” she said softly.

  “Hey, now, no call for profanity.” His easy grin went just brittle enough to confirm Natalie’s suspicion. He was the Queen General’s secret silent partner.

  He propped his elbow on the bar, but the gesture wasn’t as casual as she would’ve expected a minute ago. “No more work talk. What’s a girl like you do for fun around here?”

  She blinked. Then she opened her mouth, but realized she didn’t have an answer.

  His playboy grin came back full force. “Gotta work on that.”

  It wasn’t funny, but she laughed again anyway.

  Chapter Twelve

  “YOU GOT AN itch, boy?”

  Huck’s question made CJ’s shoulders bunch. Yeah, he had an itch. It got worse every time Natalie laughed at the tool sitting next to her.

  Every time her lips so much as hinted at another smile for the idiot, he wanted to take some of the pressure off by flirting with one of the women crowding the bar tonight. And not because any of them had caught his attention.

  Maybe the guy with Natalie wasn’t the only idiot in the room.

  CJ grabbed the soda gun. “Heard that microbrewery out on the edge of town takes special orders and makes batches for peoples’ weddings.”

  Huck gave him the suspicious old man eye. “You been cheating on my alcohol?”

  “Been thinking you should have ’em brew up a Suckers’ Punch.”

  “Look at you, getting all fancy with the ideas. Next thing you’re gonna tell me you’re good with numbers and can fix my books so I don’t have to pay the exes so much in alimony.”

  Basil would’ve called Huck’s request a sign from God. Something about growing up. Something else about distracting him from his infatuation with the wrong woman.

  But CJ hadn’t had all those sisters to not see a setup coming. “Somebody told you I used to have a real job, eh?”

  “I read that write-up on you on that Knot Fest blog they got.” Huck’s n
ose twitched like it did every time he said “Knot Fest.” “Didn’t mention where you’re working now though, did it?”

  This town was certifiable. In a lovable kind of way. “Don’t think you’re hurting for customers, Huck.”

  “Look at this place. Practically empty.”

  It was almost midnight, and the crowd was thinning. They’d still done a hell of a lot more business tonight than the last two Saturdays. “You could add a karaoke machine,” CJ said. “Give Melodies some competition.”

  Huck’s nose twitched so hard, his upper lip got in on the action too.

  CJ smiled.

  “Not funny.” Huck surveyed the bar again. “Get out of here. Me and Jeremy got this covered, and you been itching to get at something else the last hour anyway.”

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about. Love my job.”

  “Go on. Get.”

  A man had only so much argument in him, so CJ nodded. “Will do. See you tomorrow night.” CJ did love his job. Loved it more when his tip jar overflowed like tonight. Had him well on his way for getting out of Bliss after Bob was back on his feet.

  Across the bar, Natalie laughed at her companion. She looked over at CJ, and her cheeks went a delicate pink beneath her darkening eyes. She lifted her glass—mostly melted ice—and tipped it back for the last few drops, then turned back to the jackass beside her.

  CJ closed out at the register, then ducked into the office for his jacket. Natalie was still chatting with the pretty boy, and CJ didn’t have an ounce of guilt over interrupting.

  He tapped her on the shoulder. “I’m off. You want a ride?”

  When she looked back at him, he was surprised no one else jumped from the electric shock of the sparks that passed between them.

  She licked her lips. “Yeah.” She gave her companion a smile that CJ wished had been aimed at him instead. “Nice to meet you, Josh. Enjoy your time in Bliss.”

  The guy couldn’t have been a total tool, because he cracked a grin at that.

  CJ put his hand at the small of her back and led her to the door, ignoring a few curious stares.

  She ignored them too, he noticed. Big change from the girl who tried to kick him out of her house with the rationale that she’d ruin his reputation.

  The cool, dark air outside did nothing to diminish the charge between them. CJ steered Nat around the corner toward his car, anticipation drumming through his veins as if he were loading up in a Cessna 208, chute packed, ready to jump.

  They reached his old car. He let his nose dip into her hair while he opened the passenger door for her.

  She stopped short. Gave him one of those female looks. The is this really your car? kind of looks.

  How far they’d come from the days when she would’ve just said it.

  “You walk a lot, don’t you?” she said.

  That was his girl. He stole another breath of her shampoo. “Get in the car, Natalie.”

  She licked her lips. His heart kicked into hell, yeah rhythm.

  “Or what?” she said.

  “Or you’re walking home alone. That really what you want?”

  She held his gaze for that infinite moment of time that existed between pulling the rip cord and the chute snapping open. Voices spilled out into the darkness. Her head shifted toward the rowdy patrons—just barely, but enough—then her shoulders went back, and her half-smile answered his challenge.

  “If you’re sure it’ll start,” she said, her voice like warm silk.

  “Oh, it’ll start.”

  Her head tilted, her dark eyes fathomless in the night.

  For one heartbeat, he thought she’d walk away. Chicken out. Leave him hanging.

  Instead, she trailed her fingers down the front of his shirt, sparking sensations that made him shiver in anticipation. “Guess we’ll have to see.”

  And while CJ stood there enjoying the feel of all his blood heading south, she tucked herself into the car.

  NATALIE DIRECTED CJ to a small wooded cliff overlooking the north side of Harmony Lake. She shouldn’t have—he needed a partner for the Games, not a quick hookup with his worst choice. But tonight, she wanted to be wanted. And when he turned the car off and focused on her with the same intense interest he’d worn when he’d kissed her in the Suckers kitchen Monday, she felt wanted like she’d never been wanted in her life.

  He made her feel broken and whole and vulnerable and strong all at the same time.

  Being wanted by this man, feeling worthy of being wanted, scared her more than anything else she’d faced the last five years.

  Because he wasn’t permanent. He wasn’t hers. He never would be.

  He leaned toward her.

  She lunged for the door and tumbled out into the night.

  Across the lake, St. Valentine’s was dark, save for the spotlight on the spire. The illuminated wedding cake monument glowed in the night. The Rose and Dove was bright and teaming with people. Hints of laughter and the “Chicken Dance” wafted across the lake.

  That was her life. Other people’s weddings. Other people’s dresses. Maybe she’d have another shot at her own happily ever after, but it wouldn’t be today, and it wouldn’t be with CJ.

  No matter how decent of a guy he was. So she had a choice. Go home, or let herself have one night.

  His car door squeaked, then shut softly. His shoes crunched over the dried leaves and gravel.

  She rubbed her hands over her arms, but not because it was cold out. Not when the cold came from doubts deep inside her.

  “Nice night.” His voice rumbled low and deep. His hands settled on her shoulders, thumbs along her shoulder blades, easing the tension she’d held so long, she couldn’t remember when it began.

  “I didn’t thank you,” she said. “For helping me. Monday. With the itching.”

  “You started to.”

  The suggestion and amusement in his voice prompted a painful smile.

  She could’ve fallen for a guy like this. She probably already had.

  His thumbs moved in soft circles beside her spine. She leaned back into his hands.

  “I didn’t thank you either,” he said.

  Thank her? “For what?”

  “For being a pain in the ass.”

  She twisted to face him, expecting to find him sporting some cockiness or swagger or plain amusement at her expense.

  Instead, his sincerity held a reflection of her own grief over everything she’d lost in the last five years. Her naïveté. Her marriage. Her mother.

  Was his wife all he’d lost?

  “You drive me crazy,” he said. “Makes me feel like I’m at home.”

  A warmth she hadn’t felt in months—maybe years—crept into her soul. “You really know how to flatter a girl.”

  He pulled her around to face him, toes to toes, her chest to his sternum, his hands gripping her hips, his fingers latching into her ass. “I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.”

  Yes.

  Heat pooled low in her belly. “This is crazy,” she whispered.

  “Inevitable,” he murmured back.

  She pushed up on her tiptoes, closer. “Why do you do this to me?”

  “Could ask you the same thing.”

  His fingers thrust up in her hair. His lips joined hers. She melted into her fantasy world, letting him be her strong, gallant prince setting fire to her hopeful princess heart.

  She pushed his jacket out of the way and pulled his shirt out of his jeans, then slid her hands up his hot, silky skin and over the ridges of his muscles. “Tell me you have protection.”

  “Whole damn box.”

  She laughed into his kiss, but the urgent pull of his lips and the instant response of her body to his exploring fingers turned her laughter into needy gasps. He wasn’t just touching her body.

  He was touching something in her soul, lifting her burdens, making her feel feminine and competent and whole.

  Desirable.

  Worthy.

  CJ cupped h
er rear end and nestled her hips against his. “You feel so good.” He licked his way down her neck to the sensitive spot over her shoulder.

  “Don’t stop.” He was satisfying emotional cravings she didn’t know she had.

  His body was satisfying some gratuitous lusting she’d been aware of for a while now.

  She grabbed his hair, held his mouth against her collarbone while her other hand gripped his rock-hard ass and her pelvis pushed against his erection. “More.”

  “Mmm.” He boosted her up. She wrapped her legs around him, then he twisted and pushed her back against the car, kissing and stroking and holding her.

  This wouldn’t happen again, so she intended to enjoy the hell out of it. From the smell of his jacket to the texture of his skin to the sound of his voice to the slide of his tongue, she imprinted every last detail in her brain to savor over and over and over, after they went back to being two people who were totally wrong for each other despite all the ways they felt so right.

  She wanted to go slow, but she couldn’t calm her frantic tug at the button on his Levi’s. His hands fumbled under her shirt, thumbs finding her nipples beneath her bra while he cupped her breasts. He rained kisses on her neck, behind her ears, over her jaw, working his way to her mouth, pulling involuntary moans from deep in her throat, staying there, kissing her, holding her, touching her, until he owned her.

  No blindfolds. No tricks. No hiding.

  This time, he knew exactly who she was. This time, she knew who he was too. “More,” she whimpered.

  “God, Natalie.” He was hoarse, muscles vibrating against her, hands desperate as they pushed her skirt up to her hips to grind his pelvis against hers.

  There was still too much material between them. “Please,” she gasped. She yanked at his belt loops, but her legs were clamped around him, her hips thrusting against him, and she couldn’t find his skin.

  “Wait.”