Make-Believe Wedding (Montana Born Brides Book 9)

by Sarah Mayberry

  Soon they left the woods and walked down a gentle slope covered with long, spindly grass and dotted with the occasional shrub. A sandy bank stretched out into the water at this particular bend in the river, making it a good place to spin fish from. She glanced around briefly before settling on a spot shaded by a couple of shrubs to dump their gear. Heath squatted beside the tackle box and started searching through her lures as she pulled out an over-sized beach towel and spread it on the grass. They’d have to sit side-by-side to eat lunch, but that was just fine with her.

  “Mind if I use this one?” Heath asked, showing her a lure she’d made herself a few seasons ago.

  “Sure.” She’d never had a lot of success with it herself, but that didn’t mean he was doomed to failure.

  Much.

  She hid her smile, choosing her own favorite lure. They were both silent as they tied their lures to their lines. Andie opted for a Rapala knot, but she noted that Heath went with a Palomar.

  Rolling up the cuffs on her shorts, she kicked off her shoes. “Your jeans are going to get pretty wet but—Oh.”

  Heath offered her a lazy smile as he finished unbuckling his belt. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  This part of the river was hardly a high traffic area, and it wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen a lot more than his bare legs the other night. Still, she found herself looking anywhere but at him as he shed his jeans and boots, leaving him standing in nothing but his t-shirt and a pair of black boxer-briefs.

  “All right. Let the games begin,” he said, heading down to the river.

  Only then did she allow herself to look at his butt, showcased to perfection by tight stretch cotton.

  Dear God. He’d better be planning to jump her again because if he was just teasing or flirting with her this was going to be the most torturous day ever.

  Thoroughly distracted, she waded into the cold water, her shirt flapping around her torso in the light breeze. Heath was ahead of her, already making his first cast, and she watched as he skillfully sent the lure straight out over the water, landing with minimal splash. Immediately he began reeling in, moving the rod tip expertly. She could see the lure flashing through the water exactly like a small fish. She could also see that he had no takers.

  She studied the river for a few minutes, looking for still water, and walked a little further along the bank, wading in up to her knees before casting side-arm parallel to the bank. Like Heath, she moved the rod tip from side to side, mimicking a small fish’s natural swimming action. And like Heath, she came up empty by the time she’d reeled all her line back in.

  She tried again, casting out a little deeper this time. Fishing was a patient person’s sport, after all. Over the next hour she worked her way methodically along the section of river bank, becoming increasingly frustrated by her lack of success. She knew that Heath hadn’t had any bites either, and was beginning to think they’d chosen a dud site when the sound of voices drew her gaze upstream.

  A group of teenagers floated down the river on inner tubes, their laughter carrying across the water. It was a common enough occurrence on the Yellowstone, and at the height of the tourist season the river was dotted with people enjoying a leisurely ride down river.

  Andie watched the boys through squinted eyes, listening to their laughter. Then she turned and studied the river downstream. There were no tell-tale flurries in the water to indicate submerged obstacles, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. She eyed the boys in their tubes again, estimating their distance from the bank and how long it would take for someone to swim to their rescue should they strike trouble.

  “Relax. They’re all wearing life-jackets,” Heath said, and she glanced over her shoulder to find him watching her.

  “I know. Can’t stop myself from doing the math, though.”

  There was a short pause as they both went back to watching the boys on their tubes.

  “You never talk about him much,” Heath said.

  Andie frowned. Was that true? She certainly thought about Ben a lot. Every day, in some small way.

  “I guess not many people know what happened.”

  “I know.”

  She nodded. Heath had been with her brother on the river that day. He’d tried to help as Beau dived over and over, trying to find Ben after he’d been knocked off his inner tube.

  “‘Do you think about it?” she asked.

  It wasn’t every day that a fifteen-year-old boy saw someone drown. That had to have done something to Heath. It had certainly had a profound effect on Beau.

  “Yes.” Heath considered the river for a moment. “Ben was a good kid.”

  “Yeah.”

  If she closed her eyes, she could still remember her brother’s bright, brash smile, the cheeky glint in his eye, the boyish slenderness of his body. He’d been thirteen years old when he’d drowned. Far, far too young for anyone to die.

  Andie hadn’t been allowed to go with the boys to the river that day. At the time, she’d been furious and sulky at being forced to miss out. Afterward, she was profoundly grateful that she hadn’t been there.

  She hadn’t witnessed Ben disappearing beneath the river’s muddy waters. Hadn’t seen Beau diving time after time, trying to find him. Hadn’t seen the emergency workers pull her brother’s pale, lifeless body onto the bank three hours later.

  She’d imagined it all in her mind’s eye, of course, too many times to count, but she would never know, and she suspected that was a good thing. Beau, however, had far too many vivid, technicolor details to keep the tragedy fresh in his mind.

  “You think he’ll ever get over it?” she asked.

  To his credit, Heath didn’t ask who she was referring to.

  “Don’t think anyone ever gets over something that big.”

  The tubes with their human cargo were dark smudges in the distance now, and finally she allowed herself to look away.

  “You even had a nibble yet?” Heath asked.

  She glanced across at him. He should have looked ridiculous, standing there in his underwear and t-shirt, but he didn’t. He had amazing thighs, and lovely lean hips. And she loved the way he had just the right amount of hair on his legs.

  “Nothing,” she admitted.

  “You want to take a break? Eat some of that cake you bought?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  They waded back to shore, settling side by side on the towel. Andie passed him the take-out container holding the cake and he helped himself to a slice, immediately taking a huge bite.

  “Any good?” she asked.

  “Try some.” He offered her a bite from his slice, and after a moment’s hesitation, she leaned forward and bit into gooey, chocolatey goodness.

  “Wow. That’s amazing,” she said, licking her lips to catch any last crumbs. It was only when she’d finished that she became aware that Heath was watching her with a fixed, singular intensity.

  The heated look was back in his eyes, and something passed between them as they locked gazes.

  Lust. Need. Want.

  Whatever it was, it had them reaching for each other at the same time. The remainder of the cake fell to the grass as they came together, mouths open, tongues clashing. The feel of him, the taste of him was so good Andie couldn’t help but moan.

  “I know, baby, I know.”

  He pushed her onto her back, his big body coming on top of hers. She could feel how hard he was already, the steel of his erection pressing into her belly, and she ground herself against him.

  He slid his hand onto her breast, teasing her through the fabric of her t-shirt, and she was instantly ready for more. For everything.

  Focussed on one thing and one thing only, she started peeling his t-shirt over his head.

  “Wait,” Heath suddenly said against her mouth, the single word seemingly torn from him. She stilled as he pulled back enough to look her in the eye. “We should talk first. That’s what I came over to your place to d
o. To talk.”

  She ran a hand over the hard plane of his chest. “Can’t we talk later?”

  His body tensed beneath her hand and he pressed his hips more firmly against hers. He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, and his expression was pained when he opened them again.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but we should talk first,” he said.

  She could feel how much he wanted her, how close to the edge he was, and the woman in her couldn’t help wondering what it would take to push him over. Lifting her head, she pressed her mouth to the part of his shoulder exposed by the neckline of his t-shirt, licking him with just the tip of her tongue.

  “What do you want to talk about?” she asked as she let her head rest back down on the towel.

  His gaze was very knowing as he looked down at her. “You want to play it that way, do you?”

  She shrugged a shoulder, trying to match him for coolness.

  “Okay. Two can play at that game.” She felt the warmth of his hand on her belly, then the delicious slide as his hand crept beneath her t-shirt toward her breast. “I thought we should talk about what happened the other night.”

  His hand slid onto her breast, his thumb finding her nipple. She trembled as he teased her, her eyes not leaving his.

  “All right. W-what did you want to know?” she asked, arching into his touch while at the same time sliding both hands beneath the waistband of his boxer-briefs.

  “We have to work together. We’re friends.”

  She felt him tense as she slid her hands onto the muscular curve of his butt. God, how she loved his ass.

  “Is there a question in any of that?” she asked, pulling his hips closer.

  His hand clenched around her breast as she started grinding herself against him, mimicking the act that she craved.

  “Yes,” he said through gritted teeth. “There is. I need to know what you want. What you’re looking for.”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” She ground her hips against his, forgetting to breathe when she found a particularly sweet spot.

  “What about afterward? What about… more?” His cheekbones were flushed with desire, his whole body tense as he fought himself.

  She knew she should be circumspect. That she should play the game, keep her cards close to her chest. As Lily had pointed out, this was new for him, even if it wasn’t for her. She needed to give him time to catch up. To get with the program, if that was ever going to happen.

  But he was hot and hard against the heart of her, separated from her by a thin layer or two of fabric, and she couldn’t hold back.

  “Yes. I want more. If you’ve got it to give. If you’re interested. Definitely I’d like more.”

  “If I’m interested.” Heath’s voice was rough with incredulity. “Are you kidding me?”

  He kissed her, his tongue invading her mouth, his hands fumbling with the stud on her shorts. Together they helped her wriggle out of them, then they took care of his underwear. At the last minute Heath leaned across and grabbed a small foil packet from his discarded jeans.

  And then he was inside her, and all was right with the world. They rocked together, the only sound their breathing and the occasional word of encouragement they whispered to each other, and it wasn’t long before Andie could feel herself climbing. Heath seemed to sense her urgency, his hips moving powerfully, and then she was gone, utterly gone, lost in a world of sensation. She felt him shudder out his own climax, felt the rush of his breath against her neck.

  For a long moment they simply breathed, chests and bellies and hips pressed together, legs entwined. Her body felt warm and sated and heavy, and the weight of him bearing down on her was the sweetest thing in the world.

  “So, I’m taking that as a yes, you’re interested,” she said when she was confident she could talk again without panting.

  She felt rather than heard him laugh, his chest and belly moving against hers. ”You can.”

  “You don’t want to think about it some more?” she asked.

  He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. She’d been expecting amusement, but her own smile faded as she saw the serious, sincere warmth in his gaze.

  “No, Andie, I don’t need to think about it.”

  She blinked, blindsided by the intensity underpinning his words.

  “Well… good.”

  “What about you? Do you need to think about it?”

  She saw a flicker of something in his eyes, and it took her a moment to understand it was uncertainty. Heath McGregor, uncertain about her?

  “No. I don’t need to think about it. Not for a second.”

  His smile was sweet and maybe even a little shy as he reached out and brushed a strand of hair off her forehead.

  “Good.” He kissed her again, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him close.

  This was so close to everything she’d ever dreamed of. That he could look at her like that, and touch her so gently, so tenderly…

  Please let this be real. Please let it last.

  “I have one final question,” Heath asked.

  “Yes?”

  “You think people on the river can see my bare butt?”

  She started laughing, and so did he, and she made a joke about his tan line, and he retaliated by rolling them over so that it was her butt that any passersby would see. She howled in protest, and they wrestled playfully before finally agreeing to get dressed and go find somewhere more private and comfortable to explore the “more” aspect of their discussion.

  It only took them a few minutes to pack up, and then they were back on the road, Heath’s hand heavy on her thigh. She kept shooting little glances at him out of the corners of her eyes, and every now and then he’d catch her at it and smile.

  “My place or yours?” she said as she came to the point in their journey where she had to make a choice.

  “Why don’t we go to the Riverbend house?”

  “Because there isn’t a bed there?” she reminded him.

  His smile was more than a little smug. “I moved into the main bedroom yesterday.”

  She signaled to turn right, heading back out of town. “Hope you’ve got food there, too, cowboy, because I plan on wearing you out.”

  Heath’s low laughter filled the cab and she was glad she had her seatbelt on, because she was so happy, she felt as though she might float out of her seat without it. He still had a lot of catching up to do—more than a decade’s worth—but for the first time she had the sense that having Heath in her life might not be as big a pipe dream as she’d always believed it to be.

  Don’t get cocky, Ms. Bennett. And don’t you dare go letting your guard down and letting him know how you really feel. You’re a long, long way from those kinds of declarations yet, and if Heath works out that this is about more than fun for you, this will no longer be a meeting of equals. Not by a long shot.

  She batted the stern voice away, not in the mood for dire warnings and caution. She was with Heath, and soon they would be making love again. She figured life didn’t get much better than that, even if there were unanswered questions and doubts lurking in the wings.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Boss? You gonna get that?”

  Heath dragged his gaze away from the job trailer’s window, focusing on Rory. Which was when he realized his phone was ringing.

  “Right. Sorry. Give me a minute.”

  Just as he was about to take the call, his phone fell silent, a sign the call had been shunted through to voice mail. Heath made a big deal out of setting the phone down, aware of warmth flowing into his face and his foreman’s curious gaze.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d been distracted this morning, either. He’d almost run out of gas driving to the site because he hadn’t noticed the tank was low. And he’d locked himself out of the job trailer when he’d left half an hour ago to go talk to the tiler at one of the properties.

  “You okay there, boss?” Rory asked, a smile lurking
around his mouth.

  “Yeah. Just got a lot on,” Heath said.

  Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a lie—there were always multiple balls in the air on a construction site—but the truth was that his head was full of Andie. Memories from yesterday and last night, the scent of her skin, the feel of her body against his…

  He felt like a horny, hormonal kid, desperate to see her again, constantly straining for a glimpse of her out of the job trailer window. And it had barely been four hours since they’d left his house this morning to head into work.

  “So. Where were we again?” Heath asked.

  “I was telling you about the problem with drainage at number 10, and you were checking if Andie was anywhere to be seen.”

  Rory laughed at his own joke and Heath smiled grudgingly. He deserved to be ragged on, the way he’d zoned out of both Rory’s conversation and the incoming phone call.

  “Yeah, all right. You’re hilarious. Are we done here? Anything more I need to know about?”

  “Nothing I can think of.” Rory was still smirking, enjoying Heath’s embarrassment.

  “Then I guess you should get back to it.”

  Rory gave him a mock salute and headed for the door, whistling the wedding march as he went. Heath shook his head. Then—because he couldn’t help himself—he checked out the window again.

  This time he was rewarded with a glimpse of Andie as she strode across the road, ladder on her shoulder, tool kit in hand as she moved from one house to the next. Her hair was coiled in a bun high on the back of her head, leaving the elegant length of her neck bare. He had a sudden, vivid memory of kissing the delicate indent at the base of her skull this morning. Her hair had tickled his nose, and she’d squirmed against him, murmuring her approval as he slid his hand around her body and onto her—

  The phone’s shrill ring cut through his thoughts, startling him out of his reverie. At least he’d heard it this time. Rueful, he grabbed the handset and took the call.

  “McGregor Construction, Heath speaking.”