A Wedding At Ruby Lake

by Jennifer Hayward

  Her stomach clenched, but she pushed her chin out defiantly. “I’m looking for Riley James.”

  “Doesn’t matter who you’re looking for. You can turn around and leave the way you came.”

  “I can’t.”

  He took a step closer, menacing and overtly male in a way that made her pulse race. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

  She laced her hands in front of her. “I have five hundred people coming to a wedding on Saturday. Bears are destroying my reception tent. I need them gone.”

  He walked over, picked up his T-shirt and wiped it across his face. “I’m on vacation. I can’t help. So,” he stated, quirking a brow at her, “Ms….?”

  “Brown. Tyra Brown.”

  He nodded. “So, Ms. Brown. You can see yourself out.”

  She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. “I need your help. You’re the only one who can get rid of those grizzlies.”

  His gaze ripped over her in a scathing appraisal. “They’re black bears.”

  “I still need them gone.”

  He picked up a piece of wood and set it on the chopping block. “Are you deaf, Ms. Brown? I said I can’t help.”

  She waited until he’d swung the axe and separated the log into two before she stepped back into his line of sight. “I have a proposition for you.”

  His piercing green gaze slid over her in a perusal that was both intimidating and hot. “I can pretty much guarantee that I still won’t be interested.”

  She swallowed hard. “Pete told me you’re hosting the annual hunter’s association meeting and you hate planning that stuff.” She took a deep breath and held his gaze. “If you help me, I’ll do the whole thing for you.”

  He rested the axe on the ground, his mouth twisting. “You think the bears are bad, Ms. Brown? Those guys eat little girls like you for breakfast.”

  Her mouth curved. “I’m desperate, Mr. James. Pulling this wedding off is worth keeping a few uncouth men in line for a weekend.”

  She thought she saw him smile. Just a bit. He chopped the rest of the pile, dropped the axe and pulled on his T-shirt. “All right, Ms. Brown. You happen to be in luck. That meeting was dropped in my lap by someone who is a worse planner than I am. I could use your help.’

  She blew out a breath, her mouth curving in a brilliant smile. “Thank you. I swear you won’t regret it.”

  “I’m pretty sure I already do, Ms. Brown.”

  ***

  They met at the lake that night where the massive reception tent sat illuminated by the moon. Midnight, one o’clock, two o’clock passed as they waited in the shadow of the trees for the bears to make their nightly appearance.

  “Maybe they’ve gone on vacation, too,” Tyra quipped.

  Riley tried to ignore the way her smile lit up everything around her. As it had this afternoon at his place. Tyra Brown wasn’t beautiful in a knock-your-socks-off kind of way, but there was something about how she’d stood up to him that drew him in.

  Another half an hour passed. Tyra stretched and stood. “I need to use the bathroom. Be right back.”

  She was halfway across the clearing when Riley saw the bear. “Tyra, freeze,” he growled. “Don’t make a move.”

  She stood there as still as a statue. Her back was to him but he could read the terror in the tight lines of her body. And he didn’t blame her. The bear was a massive five-hundred-pound female with cubs loitering behind her. Deadly if Tyra got between them. Minutes passed before the bears ambled into the tent and out of sight. Riley sprinted from the trees, scooped up a frozen Tyra and carried her back to safety.

  He held her until she stopped shaking. Until her teeth stopped chattering. She felt soft and good against him, and he realized he’d forgotten how sweet a woman could smell.

  Or how easily he could fall for a pretty face.

  And if that seemed complicated, better not to tell Tyra he was harboring her fugitive bride.

  Chapter Four

  A bachelorette party without the bride was just…odd.

  Georgia Westwood, younger sister of Ariana Westwood, slated to marry much-coveted investment banker Jackson O’Connell in just under twenty-four hours, hung on to the upside-down Ashtanga position as long as she could before the blood rushing to her head almost blinded her. She collapsed on the mat with a defiant finality. If the other twelve girls attending this party wanted to put themselves through this torture, they could knock themselves out.

  Not her.

  She wiped the perspiration from her forehead. The late-afternoon sun slanting across Felicity’s parents’ boat-house roof was still blindingly strong, making it all that much worse. No one even knew if there was going to be a wedding. Ariana was still missing, apparently vacillating between the two stunning men she had on a string.

  Georgia grimaced. Her heart was bleeding for her. It really was.

  The instructor finally took pity on them and wrapped the class. Georgia hung back as Fearless Felicity, chosen over Georgia for maid-of-honour duties because she had been deemed “too irresponsible” for the job, started popping thousand-dollar bottles of champagne. With her exotic dark eyes and silky, straight hair, Felicity was just as stunning as Ariana. Not that she was jealous. They could continue their “I am beautiful” pursuit of perfection for eternity for all she cared.

  Be my guest.

  “Does anyone have any idea where Ariana is?” Sarah asked, curling up on one of the deck sofas with her champagne.

  “I’d be dragging her butt back to face the music if I did,” Felicity growled. “She isn’t usually this much of a coward.”

  “She doesn’t usually feel like her head is going to blow off.”

  All heads turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Ariana stood behind them, her short, dark bob framing violet eyes.

  “Ari,” Felicity yelled, launching herself at her best friend with a force that nearly knocked her over. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Thinking. “Ariana gave them all a hug, then sank into one of the chairs with a glass of champagne. “I’m afraid I’m still in love with Hunter.”

  “And that’s supposed to be a news bulletin?” Tracey scoffed. “He beat your heart up and left it for dead. I’m sorry, but you can’t.”

  “You don’t choose who you love,” Beth reprimanded. “It just is.”

  Ariana turned grey.

  “How about we make a list?” Dani, the lawyer, suggested. “Give us Jackson’s and Hunter’s best qualities.”

  Ariana frowned. “Well, Jackson is kind, handsome, super-smart and we’re very… compatible.”

  “And Hunter?”

  Ariana’s face crumpled.

  “Oh, Lord.” Felicity held her glass up. “Let’s make this simple. Jackson would like you to make him dinner. Hunter would like to have you for dinner. Hunter is also filthy rich now. Which would you choose, ladies?”

  “He broke her heart,” Tracey protested. “Can we please remember that?”

  Ariana’s lips trembled. “How can I ever trust him again?”

  “You won’t know until you talk to him.”

  All eyes turned to Sarah as she stated the obvious. Ariana nodded. “You’re right.”

  Georgia pursed her lips. “You know they’re both going crazy?”

  “This is my life,” her sister said sharply. “And you’d better keep your mouth shut, Georgia. Not a word.”

  As if. Stung by her sister’s assumption that she would let the cat out of the bag, Georgia slunk off downstairs with a muttered excuse she would wait for the pizza. The massive amount of hot air in her brain fighting to get out sent her walking along the shore instead. Screw the pizza. Screw them all.

  Before she knew it she was in town, rife with cottagers loading up their boats with beer at the liquor store. About to turn around and head back, her gaze locked on him. Colton Smith. Tall, dark and dangerous, he was the boy she’d been told not to talk to and forbidden to date.

  Colton Smith had a bad-boy reputati
on and the criminal record to back it up. But none of that ever seemed to dissuade the ladies.

  Her gaze cut to the case of beer he was loading into his boat and she wondered if he had a date with a woman or with the beer.

  A forbidden thrill rocketed through her. Only one way to find out.

  She hustled down to the edge of the dock and caught his attention just as he gunned the motor. “Hey, Colton.”

  He turned one of those deadly smiles on her. “Georgia Goody Two-shoes. Shouldn’t you be home under lock and key?”

  “Very funny. I’m nineteen, Colton. Only a year younger than you.”

  He slanted her a look that said it might as well have been light-years. “Need a ride somewhere?”

  Any other night she would have said no, she was good. But tonight, she just didn’t care.

  “Depends on where you’re going.”

  He burst out laughing. Not the effect she’d been going for. “Georgia Westwood you are not allowed to fraternize with my kind and you know it.”

  She lifted her chin. “Is that a yes or a no?”

  He looked at her for a long moment. Georgia held her breath. Then he shrugged and jerked his head toward the case of beer. “I’m headed up to the point to drink that. I won’t be driving afterward.”

  Georgia flicked a glance in the direction of the cottage. She’d left her phone there, which meant she’d be doing a disappearing act of her own if she went. Her mouth tightened and she climbed into the boat. It was time Georgia Goodie Two-Shoes lost her nickname.

  She’d never felt so alive, whipping across the water with Colton, her hair in her face. He docked the boat in a tiny, hidden cove and built a fire. She knew she should be nervous out there alone with him, with a guy who had a reputation as long as his arm. But the funny thing was, she’d always felt as though she’d known Colton Smith.

  “How come,” she asked, sitting beside him and taking the beer he offered, “you never talked to me at school when I tried to talk to you?”

  “Maybe I wasn’t interested.”

  The verbal knife dug in about an inch deep, but her gut told her it was a defence mechanism. “I saw the way you looked at me, Colton.”

  He shrugged and poked at the fire. “I’m not a fan of your father’s slick-suited security contingent. I can do without a continuous law-enforcement presence.”

  She frowned. “Why did you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Steal the stuff from MacGregors.”

  He threw another log on the fire. “Something to do.”

  “I think you stole it so you could sell it and take care of your family.”

  His mouth twisted. “Don’t try and paint me the hero, Georgia. I’m sure as hell not.”

  She didn’t say any more. Just watched as the logs turned orange and gold and fiery sparks shot up into the darkness.

  His barriers against the world were about a mile wide.

  When the fire had charged itself into an almighty force of nature and her second beer had warmed Georgia’s insides to the point where she didn’t have the caution she should, she put herself out there, something she never, ever did.

  “I like you, Colton. I think you’re smart and funny, and I don’t give a damn what everyone thinks.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  He threw her a sideways look. “I’m not a novelty to be played with for a night, Georgia. A kiss you can go back and tell your girlfriends about.”

  “I don’t think about you like that.” She took a deep breath and turned to face him. “But I do want one though.”

  She saw the exact moment the rebel in him kicked in. His eyes darkened and flashed with a wildness she’d never experienced before. Then his head blocked out the glow of the fire as he bent to kiss her, a kiss that bore little resemblance to the fumbling attempts she’d been on the receiving end of in the past.

  Oh, yes, Colton Smith deserved his bad-boy status.

  And then some.

  ***

  Both Westwood sisters were now missing. The storm Claire Westwood had unleashed over Ruby Lake had arrived. And who knew where it was all going to end?

  Chapter Five

  Felicity Kane, maid of honour to the Westwood wedding that might or might not happen tomorrow, stared at the gaping hole in her jewellery pouch, her stomach dropping along with it. She was sure that hadn’t been there before. Positive actually, because upon their arrival in Ruby Lake when Ariana had handed her the two exquisite gold bands she and Jackson had chosen as their wedding rings, explaining that the best man Nick couldn’t be trusted with them, she’d tucked them in there for safe keeping.

  She rummaged around some more. The rings were not there.

  Sinking to her knees, she rifled through the overnight bag the jewellery pouch had been tucked into, underwear and toiletries flying onto the floor. Nothing. She turned her room upside-down searching for them.

  The rings were gone.

  Felicity was not a particularly religious type, in fact she hadn’t set foot in a church in ten years and likely wouldn’t again after the wedding. But this seemed like a sign. Were Ari and Jackson over?

  She stuck her index finger in her mouth and clamped down on the perfect manicure she’d had done this morning. On the outside chance Ari did marry Jackson, she needed the damn rings. Or a suitable replica thereof.

  Today.

  She threw on jeans, grabbed her purse and headed for the marina. The nearest major town that would have a jewellery store of the calibre she needed was a twenty-minute boat ride. It would close in an hour. She ran toward her parents’ slip at full speed.

  The slip was empty. She’d forgotten her father had gone to visit the McCarthys.

  She pulled up, huffing and puffing, her weekly Body Attack class not nearly enough to stem the hysteria building in her. The family who owned the slip beside theirs, she knew all too well. Their speedboat was there. Maybe they still kept the keys in the same place…?

  Sliding her hand into the secret compartment under the dash, she touched cold metal. Amazing. An hour tops. That’s all she’d need the boat for. Act now and apologize later. That was her strategy.

  She untied the boat, slid the key into the ignition and brought her roaring to life. A male voice yelled something that was drowned out by the motor. Fully committed, Felicity reversed the boat out of the slip. A solid force came flying through the air and landed in the boat. She whirled around, grabbing the metal sides. “What the—”

  A set of gray-blue eyes blazed back at her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing stealing my boat?”

  Her heart rate flat-lined. She would recognize those eyes anywhere.

  “Felicity?”

  Oh, dear Lord, not today. Not him.

  Not ever.

  Joshua Peters reached down, scooped her out of the driver’s seat with one muscular arm and deposited her in the passenger seat. Then he took control of the boat. Felicity contemplated a dive back onto the dock but they were a good ten feet away now. Joshua set a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back into the seat.”I don’t think so, Felicity. That’s a little nuts, even for you.”

  Oh, no, it wasn’t. Not if it meant escaping an incredibly awkward meeting with her hottest one-night stand ever.

  Joshua pulled back on the throttle so the boat slowed to a low purr. He flicked her a glance. “Care to tell me where you’re headed?”

  Canada Day three years ago flashed through her head. Searingly hot temperatures, lots of cold beer and the best, steamiest sex she’d ever had. She swallowed hard. “I was only borrowing the boat. I have an emergency.”

  “What kind of emergency?”

  “I’m the maid of honour in Ariana’s wedding tomorrow and I’ve lost the rings.”

  “You lost the rings?”

  “Thanks. You’re making me feel better.” She eyed his grim expression. “Let me take the boat. I swear I’ll bring it right back.”

  “
I don’t think so.”

  “Josh—”

  “I came looking for you the next morning, Felicity. I thought we had something special.”

  Her fingernails dug into the leather seat. “I don’t think we should do this.”

  “Oh, I think we should,” he shot back. “I’ll take you to get the rings, Felicity, then we’re going to talk.”

  She sank her teeth into her bottom lip.”It was one night. Ancient history. We should let it go.”

  He ignored her, pushing the throttle forward until they were hurtling across the brilliant blue water. It was too loud to talk, the roar of the motor drowning out everything but her total and complete awareness of him.

  They docked at Derringer Falls. Felicity practically ran into the jewellery store, chose the first two rings that even remotely looked like the missing ones, and guessed Jackson’s and Ariana’s sizes. The sooner she got rid of Joshua the better.

  Outside the store, Joshua pulled her to a halt in front of the window. Felicity shot him a blistering look. “We aren’t talking here.”

  “No, we aren’t,” he agreed, stepping into her personal space. Before she could guess his intent, before she could react at all, he leaned down and kissed her. Not the we’re on a street corner and people are walking by kind of kiss, more like the French photographer sweep her away, lay one on her ones she had plastered across her apartment wall.

  Felicity was a closet romantic.

  And man, Joshua Peters could kiss. That hadn’t changed.

  She pushed weakly against his chest when it was over, her cheeks firing with colour at the applause they were given by half a dozen bystanders.

  “What was that?” she murmured, taking a step back.

  His eyes filled with some nameless emotion. “Me proving a point. There was nothing ‘one night’ about it, Felicity. If you’d stayed, you might have figured that out.”

  Mrs. Danbury, the mayor’s wife, came up to them, shot the bag in Felicity’s hand a knowing glance and gave Joshua a kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations, you two. What a lovely, lovely surprise.”

  It took a second for Felicity’s brain to compute. “Oh, no. We aren’t—” But Mrs. Danbury was already gone, toddling off toward the post office.