A Wilde Night (Old Town Country Romance Book 3)

by Savannah Young

  A Wilde Night

  Old Town Country Romance

  Savannah Young

  A Wilde Night

  Copyright © 2014 by Savannah Young

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

  This is a work of FICTION.

  Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author's offbeat imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead or previously dated by the author, is entirely coincidental.

  “Prove” Copyright © 2014 by Dan Patrick Fulton. Lyrics included by permission of the songwriter.

  A SHORT ON TIME BOOK:

  Fast-paced and fun novels for readers on the go!

  For more information, visit the website: www.shortontimebooks.com

  A Note from the Author

  When I first thought about pairing Hunter Wilder with a Hollywood starlet I wondered if it would be possible for a real celebrity to hide in plain sight. This article just happened to appear in my newsfeed while I was writing the book and answered my question! Shailene Woodley (the star of the hit movie, The Fault in Our Stars), was able to make an appearance at screening of the movie at a local movie theater in a disguise and was apparently not recognized:

  http://www.elle.com/news/culture/shailene-woodley-fault-in-our-stars-disguise

  If Shailene could do it I didn’t think it would be too far-fetched for Hollywood celebrity, Katie Lawrence, to show up with Hunter at Haymakers wearing a disguise without being recognized.

  One

  Hunter

  “What’s going on over there?” I point to a dark-haired girl being mobbed by a small crowd. They’re shoving pieces of paper and pens at her.

  Autographs, maybe?

  Teko laughs. “What are you blind? That’s Katie Lawrence.”

  Am I supposed to know who Katie Lawrence is?

  “So?”

  Teko’s eyes narrow with suspicion. “She’s America’s Sweetheart. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Sky Blues?”

  “Okay, I won’t tell you I’ve never seen it,” I fire back.

  “Or Chasing Summer?”

  “I won’t tell you I haven’t seen that either.”

  “Dude, have you been living under a rock? They’re Academy Award winning movies. She’s won two Oscars. Just won best-supporting actress and she was only in the movie like fifteen minutes. Her character died of a drug overdose. It was epic.”

  Now I’m the one who’s eying Teko. “And how do you know about these movies? They sound like chick flicks.”

  “My girl likes movies. I like to make out in the back of the theater. It’s a win-win deal.”

  I watch as Katie Lawrence greets all of her adoring fans. And they are all adoring her. They’re practically falling over each other just to get her to glance in their direction. It actually makes me kind of sick.

  It’s not that Katie Lawrence isn’t attractive. She’s cute. But not the kind of girl I’d put on a pedestal or anything. If she wasn’t a big star, and she walked into Haymakers, my family’s bar, on a Friday night, she probably wouldn’t be one of the first girls to get picked up. Don’t get me wrong, she’d be in the top five or six, but she’s definitely not top-spot hot. Katie Lawrence is not drop-dead Sports Illustrated Cover Girl gorgeous. She looks more like the girl-next-door.

  Not that the girl who lived next door to us all of our lives, Harley Davis, isn’t Sports Illustrated Cover Girl gorgeous. She most definitely is. But she’s also in love with my oldest brother, so that means she’s off-limits.

  I can tell by looking at Katie that she thinks pretty highly of herself. It’s her demeanor, and the way she carries herself. The girl is starting to believe her own publicity.

  “Why do you think the resort hired so many of us this weekend?” Teko asks.

  Tawnee Mountain Resort has been in business less than a year and it’s already garnered quit a reputation as a hot spot for all the rich and famous from New York. Lucky for me and my buddy, Teko, they like to hire off-duty cops to work security for special events.

  I shrug. “I heard there’s some kind of big wedding going on.”

  Teko gives me a look like I’m stupid. “Devon Black’s twin brother is getting married. I know you know who Devon Black is.”

  “He’s that snowboarder,” I reply off-handedly.

  “He’s a four-time Olympic gold medal winner. His twin brother was set to compete against him this past winter, but he injured his knee in the finals. Talk about sibling rivalry.”

  Sibling rivalry is something I know a lot about. With three older brothers, it wasn’t something I could easily escape.

  “Katie Lawrence is dating Devon Black,” Teko adds, as if I should care about either of these people. “It’s an on-again, off-again saga with those two.”

  My gaze narrows. “And just how do you know so much about Katie Lawrence and Devon Black’s romantic life?”

  He shrugs. “My girl has a bunch of those celebrity magazines lying all over the apartment.”

  “And you just happened to open them up and read them,” I tease.

  “I may take them with me into the bathroom when I’ve got a few minutes to kill.”

  I shake my head in disbelief. Teko is a six-foot five-inch brick house. He’s part Polynesian, part African American and all muscle. He’s not the kind of guy you’d expect to be reading some girlie celebrity rag.

  As Katie Lawrence and her entourage pass by us, I can’t help but notice her sexy little body. She’s wearing a skirt so short and tight it should be illegal. And she’s got on a little crop top that shows off the smallest bit of her milky white midsection.

  Maybe she’s a little hotter than I initially gave her credit for.

  When I feel my dick twitch in response I remind myself that I’m a cop working security and she’s apparently some superstar.

  But that’s just it. When you take away all of the hubbub surrounding her, she doesn’t seem like a movie star to me. She seems more like a slightly sexed up version of the girls I went to high school with.

  As I watch her walk by, she actually glances in my direction. Our eyes meet for just a second, but it’s just long enough for me to see right inside her. And when I do, I actually see her gasp. It’s almost as if no one has ever looked that deeply at her and it surprises her. I seem to have made her so uncomfortable, she quickly turns away.

  But I know she’ll look back again. I’m willing to bet a week’s salary on it, and for a rookie cop, that’s some hard-earned money. When someone takes your breath away, you can’t help but look back again. It’s a necessity.

  Bingo.

  Just as I predicted she sneaks another quick glance back at me before she turns the corner. She’s got such a sad expression on her face. It’s almost like she’s living a life that’s not of her own making. Like part of her would rather be in old jeans and a sweatshirt than the designer clothes she’s wearing. It tugs on my heartstrings a bit. Then I remind myself that she’s a superstar, and certainly doesn’t need someone like me to feel sorry for her.

  ***

  “You’ve got bodyguard duty,” Mr. Wilson, the head of security, says to me.

  The guy is a real piece of work. He’s an older guy, probably in his mid-fifties, and I swear he dyes his hair because it’s just too black for a guy his age. He’s always chomping on gum like a teen-age girl. And he’s slick. If he wasn’t the head of security at a posh resort, he’d probably be a used car salesman.

  “I wasn’t hired for personal security,” I protest. “Genera
l guard duty.”

  In my mind I was hired to stand around and look intimidating, something I’ve been working hard to perfect. I’ve almost got it down to an exact science. I cross my arms over my chest while giving a cold, uncompromising stare. Between that pose and my uniform, I can usually make some of the biggest, baddest-looking dudes tremble in a matter of seconds. At least my police training was good for something.

  Getting anywhere close to that actress sounds like too much work. Actresses are too high maintenance for a country boy like me.

  I point over to two other rookie cops also moonlighting as security guards at Tawnee Mountain. We all attended the police academy together.

  “Why don’t you get Paulson and Rodriguez to do it?” I suggest.

  Wilson snaps his gum in my face then shakes his head. “No, I want you to do it.”

  I want to ask why me, but I can tell by the look on Mr. Wilson’s face that it’s pointless to protest. He’s already got his mind made up. He’s got a team of a dozen security guards, and for some reason he picked me to babysit the drama queen.

  “Anyone ever told you that you kind of look like Opie?”

  I shake my head. “Who’s Opie?”

  He chomps down on his gum a few times before he responds. “Opie. You know. The kid from The Andy Griffith Show. Ron Howard’s character.”

  “You mean the director?” Teko pipes in.

  More gum chewing. “Yeah, he’s a director now but he was an actor first. When he was young. He had a real sweet look to him. Kind of innocent. Like you.” Wilson points a finger in my direction. “You’re a sweet looking kid. That’s why you need to do it.”

  I heave a sigh. The last thing you want to be called when you’re a new cop is sweet looking. Doesn’t exactly fit the persona. I’ve worked really hard to gain body mass and I’m now all muscle. But there’s nothing I can do about having a sweet looking face apparently.

  Mr. Wilson is eyeing me like I’ve got the plague or something. “What have you got against Katie Lawrence? She’s America’s Sweetheart.”

  “Nothing,” I grunt.

  He’s still eyeing me like he doesn’t believe me. “She’s a sweet kid.”

  “I’m sure she is,” I say half-heartedly. I still want nothing to do with being her personal security guard. I’d rather be in the background where I feel comfortable.

  “I think you’ll like her when you get to know her.”

  I don’t know how to make it any more obvious that I don’t want to get to know her. I could care less about her being America’s Sweetheart. And I definitely don’t care about her movies. I’d rather watch paint dry then watch any movie with the words Academy Award winner on it. If I have to watch a movie, which I rarely do, it better have car chases, explosions and guns—and lots of them.

  Mr. Wilson crosses his fat arms over his protruding belly. It’s a good thing the guy carries a gun and a Taser because he’d never be able to take anyone down without a weapon. “Tell me why you don’t like Katie Lawrence.”

  Why does everyone love this girl so much? It’s like a national crime that I don’t adore her. I shrug. “I don’t even know her.”

  He’s still eyeing me suspiciously.

  “All right.” I heave a sigh. “She seems very high maintenance. I don’t want to deal with it. Happy?”

  Mr. Wilson actually laughs at me. Should I be insulted?

  “Every female on the planet is high maintenance, Kid. Get used to it.”

  Before I can say another word he turns and walks away.

  Two

  Katie

  All I can think about is getting to my room and getting out of the outfit I’m wearing. It’s way too tight and way too short and I feel like a complete slut wearing it.

  Not that I have a lot of choice in the matter.

  I have a stylist who gives me advice on how to dress. Her latest advice was that I didn’t look sexy enough, hence the clothes that feel like they’re two sizes too small for me. My manager was freaking out for weeks after an article about me in Vanity Fair said I would need to develop more sex appeal if I hoped to make the transition to more commercial, big budget films.

  As if my only goal in life is to be eye candy in a summer popcorn movie. It’s just what every Oscar winning actress dreams about. But that’s what my manager and agent dream about. Most of my roles have been in lower budget indies—mostly art films—and a few rom coms. I haven’t gotten any of the multimillion dollar contracts that come with blockbuster roles.

  But isn’t that what every actress is supposed to want? All the people who are supposed to represent me want to be able to buy their second houses and luxury cars on their fifteen percent of a big blockbuster deal.

  Not one of them has ever bothered to ask me if I even want to star in that kind of movie. They just assume that’s what I want. To be a star. To be a celebrity. To be super rich.

  My hotel room is huge. I’ve never gotten used to the size of the suites at fancy hotels. Most of them are bigger than the duplex I grew up in.

  I still can’t shake the feeling I got when that security guard looked at me. It was like he was looking right though me. Like he could see every one of my secrets in the blink of an eye. No one has ever made me feel that way before.

  “I just want to take a hot bath,” I tell Elsie, my personal assistant. We’ve known each other for years and she’s like a sister to me. We grew up together in Phillipsburg, not too far from Tawnee Mountain. When my manager suggested that I hire a personal assistant she was the first person I thought of.

  “Don’t forget about the rehearsal dinner tonight.”

  “How could I forget?” The wedding is the reason we’re back on the East Coast. That and the Black brothers want the publicity. That’s why Devon’s brother, Danny, decided to have his wedding at a ski resort. They’re getting ready to launch a new reality show that just happens to take place at a ski resort very much like this one. Great place to start their publicity campaign.

  “I just need some time alone.” Not something I get much of anymore.

  “Sure,” Elsie agrees. “I think they’re going to send up a security guard to do some personal security for you this weekend. The hotel manager didn’t like the fact that so many people were crowding you earlier.”

  As long as it’s not that guy who freaked me out when he looked at me. But what are the chances? It looked like the hotel had an army of security guards all around the place.

  “Are you okay?” Elise asks. Her eyes are narrowed with concern.

  “I’m fine,” I lie. I can’t remember the last time I was actually fine. Probably before I won my first Academy Award. Before I was in the media spotlight and every move I made was fodder for the tabloids. Back when I was hungry for a job and acting was still fun. It seems like a really long time ago.

  She gives me a warm smile. “Enjoy your bath.”

  And I do. The tub is enormous. It’s more like an indoor hot tub than an actual bathtub.

  As I climb into the bath and exhale, I can feel my muscles start to relax a bit.

  I enjoy the warmth and all of the bubbles for a few minutes. Part of me would like to stay in this warm bath indefinitely and never come out. People could just deliver room service right in the bathroom.

  But I know it’s a ridiculous idea. People are depending on me. Studios are banking on my rising stardom. Salaries are at stake and there are profits to be made while I’m still the Hollywood flavor of the season.

  I force myself from the bathtub and dry off with the oversized bath sheets. When I look in the mirror, it’s sometimes hard to recognize myself anymore. Am I really Katie Lawrence, the movie star? I still feel like little Kat from small town New Jersey. The girl who went to California with nothing but a backpack filled with old clothes and a dream.

  A lot has changed in six years.

  I hear a knock on the bathroom door. Then Elsie says, “I don’t mean to bother you, Kat. I know you’re trying to relax. But that guy is
here. The security guard. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with him.”

  I’m not sure what they want me to do with him either.

  “I’ll be right out.”

  I slip on some yoga pants and an old T-shirt. Just that small gesture makes me feel a little more like myself again. This is Kat. A laid back girl from the country. A girl who likes to chill out with a beer on a Friday night and listen to country music. But the more time I spend in Hollyweird surrounded by people with delusions of grandeur, the more I start to believe in their delusions.

  I can feel Kat slipping away, but I’m not sure what do to about it. Katie Lawrence is nothing but a creation of others. She’s just as fictional as the characters I play in the movies.

  But people don’t want to see Kat. They want to see Katie. They want to believe the movie star they’ve created is real.

  And I’m supposed to give her to them.

  I take in a deep breath, and plaster my signature Katie Lawrence smile on my face as I head out of the bathroom.

  I nearly choke when I see him standing in front of me. It’s the one security guard I didn’t want it to be. The guy who looked like he could see right through me. The guy who took my breath away.

  And he’s taking it away again.

  I feel like my lungs are collapsing as I gasp for air.

  “Kat.” Elise hurries over to me and grabs my arm. “Are you okay?”

  I try to steady myself. “I guess I’m still a little lightheaded from being in the hot bath.”

  When I glance over at the security guard his face is completely neutral like he’s just taking it all in. The guy is ripped. He’s tall and muscular. But he’s also got a sweet looking baby face. It’s an odd combination.

  And those eyes.

  His eyes are completely penetrating. I’ve heard people talk about actors having bedroom eyes, but this guy has every actor I’ve ever worked with beat by a mile.

  “What’s your name?” I ask.

  He actually gives me a once over before he responds. It completely unhinges me.

  Again.

  The guy is really good at doing that.