Catching Mr. Right

by Misti Murphy

  “Yeah.” He pulls me back, his hand sliding up to grasp my elbow, so that we’re standing face to face, a few bare inches between us. “Yeah, girl. As long as I can.”

  “That’s great.” I can’t stop looking at his lips, remembering what they felt like, what he felt like that night we spent together. I should probably look away, or at least make it clear that we shouldn’t repeat that incredible experience. After all I’m supposed to be making another man fall in love with me, not falling into Casper’s bed. That’s why we’re here. “We won’t have sex again, though.”

  “I said nothing about sex,” Cas says, frowning. But there’s hunger in his gaze as it heats my skin.

  “Good, because we probably shouldn’t.” Even if Sam thinks we are. Considering it should make me feel dirty, but it doesn’t. Not when Cas steps in closer, winds my hair around his fingers and tugs to angle my head while he starts kissing his way up my neck. It makes my insides melt, and my thighs slippery. And when his mouth gets to mine I kiss him back.

  Oh God, how I kiss him back.

  We’re all tongues and teeth and wild, wild hands as we pull at each other’s clothing, tearing off T-shirts and denim and lace. Black boxer briefs go too. Until we’re a tangled mess of limbs and mouths and boots and a condom he holds captive between his fingers. His lips are on my breast and his hands are on my ass as he picks me up and staggers over the uneven terrain toward those boulders and the shadows they cast where Soldier chews on a mouthful of long grass. My back finds warm stone; flat and grainy rock that rubs at my skin.

  He puts me on my feet, turns me around, smooths his palms along my arms until he gets to my hands, plants them on the granite face while he trails kisses from my jaw to my shoulder. “Do you want to tell me we shouldn’t do this again? That you don’t want it? Because we can stop.”

  Can we? I’m completely naked except for a pair of pink cowboy boots, and he’s running his hands over my hips and between my legs, forcing me to widen my stance. All I can focus on is the anticipation and the need coursing through me. I stare back at him over my shoulder. “I want it. So much.”

  “Mandy Pearce, you do my fucking head in.” His fingers fill me. Two of them fucking in and out of my pussy, and I grind into his palm. “You have no idea how crazy you make me.”

  So crazy. So irrational I can’t breathe. Or think about anything other than the sparks shooting around inside me. A fizz along my nerves that can’t be contained. The heat and pleasure that builds into an inferno of need. “Just do it, Cas. Give me your cock. Stick it in me.”

  He lifts one of my legs, puts my foot onto one of the smaller boulders so that I’m wide open for him. It takes him a moment to put the condom on and then he wraps an arm around me to thrum my clit as he guides his cock to my entrance and eases into me.

  I rest my head against his shoulder as I moan with his shallow movements. He kisses my hair, brings his hand up to massage my breast and pinch my nipple. I wriggle down on him. Take more of his cock. Want more.

  He pushes me forward, bends around me. Thrusts into me. Deep. My breath speeds up, my legs are slick with wetness. His harsh grunts and groans are pressed to my ear. I’m so tight around him. So fucking full of him as he pounds into me until I’m shattering in his arms. Rubbing my clit, he pushes me higher, makes my climax go on and on and on while I squeeze his cock dry. I scream. My pieces fragment, coming apart in a dizzying kaleidoscope and falling into darkness as I slump forward, and he pulls me back into his arms. Is he ruining me for anyone else?

  Shadows flicker across my closed eyelids as I draw that thought in. Is Cas making it hard for me to remember what I want? When I finally land Sam will I be able to forget these moments with Cas? Something tugs at my scalp, and I open my eyes to find Soldier mouthing my hair. It startles me and I jump.

  Cas chuckles, his arms wrapped around my ribcage under my breasts. He tightens his hold on me. “Easy. He’s not going to bite you.”

  “I’m not worried about him biting me.” Okay, I am. I’m naked after all. That’s a lot of soft, easily accessible flesh for him to nip at. And he has big, horsey teeth. “I’m not used to being watched by a horse while having sex. Although I’m not used to being watched during sex at all, or you know, having sex either so I guess that isn’t saying much.”

  “He’s curious.” Cas snorts. I can feel his grin against my neck. “That’s all.” He pulls out of me carefully. Even after, he’s still so thick and hard for a while. “Let’s get dressed so we can get down from here before the sun sets.”

  “We should do that,” I agree, hurrying to pick up my clothes and wriggle into them as he does the same with his jeans.

  Then he picks up the bridle and approaches Soldier, murmuring to him the entire time. I can’t hear what he says to his horse. Not a word. But if the serious look on his face is anything to go by, I’m not sure knowing wouldn’t make me want to cry.

  ***

  I drag myself up off the pillow and glance about for Cas. It’s still early, but the sun’s up. The ceiling fan whirs overhead, and my phone serves up a ruckus of noise that’s worse than nails on a chalkboard. I’m alone in his bedroom. In his bed. The bathroom door is open, revealing he’s not in there either. I draw my finger across the screen of my phone and send the alarm to snooze before I toss it onto the crumpled sheets. It should be good for another five minutes. Me, on the other hand?

  I’m not entirely sure.

  I’m always sure. Mandy Pearce is the girl with the plan. She accomplishes her goals. She gets her man. She never lets anything get in her way for long. So why does this fake relationship leave me with doubts?

  And not straight forward doubts either. I still know Sam Sweets could be my Mister Right if he’d let himself be. I know I can be happy with him and have the relationship I always envisioned. It’s not like anything has changed. It hasn’t.

  Cas and I aren’t really together. It’s fake. For him. And for me. Because we both know it’s going to end. Why is that so hard to remember when he’s covering my body in kisses? When his hands are stroking my skin, and he’s thrusting deep inside me?

  Even when we got back to the ranch last night and had to pull together dinner for the masses in quick order and he kept touching me and talking to me in between commands, I had to remind myself this is all for Sam’s benefit. Then there was that dirty joke he told me afterward, while I sat on the counter and he fed me chocolate ice cream. The joke heated my cheeks while the ice cream cooled me off and the moment was utterly perfect.

  My alarm goes off again, and I yelp. Tossing off the sheet, I scamper toward the shower. I’m a hot mess of post-sex hair and sweat. Crap, I hope I can wrangle all this into something presentable. I’ve only got twenty minutes until I’m supposed to report to breakfast duty.

  “Where’s Cas?” I ask Claire when I enter the kitchen to find her in charge. Fixing a cup of coffee, I try to recall him having the day off, but he didn’t mention it, and for one heart stopping second, I wait for her to tell me he’s left. Without even a goodbye. But Cas wouldn’t do that, would he?

  “I’m not sure,” she says. “He didn’t mention anything to you before he left?”

  “No.”

  “Well I’m sure he’ll be back shortly.” She glances up from the bowl of eggs that she’s whisking. “Are you working today? Can you give me a hand?”

  “Absolutely.” I drain my coffee cup and put it in the sink before starting on the pile of bagels that need to be toasted. “He didn’t say where he was going?”

  “He said he was taking his horse somewhere else for a few days.”

  “Oh. Okay. Wasn’t Razer saying some guy kept asking if he was for sale?” That’s probably it. He’s making sure Soldier’s safe, though why he’d take him from the ranch where he’s constantly under watch I’m not certain.

  “Possibly.” Claire agrees and then she stops what she’s doing. “Oh.”

  “Oh what?” I glance up from slicing bagels to find her stari
ng at the hand she’s holding low on her belly.

  “That’s weird.” She smiles.

  “What’s weird?”

  “It’s the first time I’ve felt him move.”

  “Him? Wait.” I put down the knife and walk around the counter. “Are you pregnant?”

  “Yes.” Her violet eyes sparkle as she breaks out in a smile that leaves her practically glowing.

  “Does Razer know?” I can barely keep from squealing.

  “Of course.” She rolls her gaze to the ceiling before bringing it back to me. “We’re almost half way.”

  “You’re tiny.” I study her belly. “Are you sure it’s not gas? I hear that can be a similar sensation.”

  “It’s not gas.” She giggles as she grabs my hand and places it to her abdomen.

  Something little butterflies against my hand. “Wow. I think I felt him move. You’re really halfway?”

  “We didn’t find out straight away. We were too busy setting up for camp to notice, and then I chalked it up to stress for a little while. By the time we found out we were almost through the first trimester. Probably helped that I wasn’t sick.”

  “Why haven’t you told anyone?”

  “We have.” She shakes her head. “Our family. We thought we’d keep the news private though, until I started to show. It’s just easier to keep it between us. I’m not ready to have people come up to me in the street and grab my stomach.”

  “This is crazy.” I stare at her abdomen. “If I rub your belly do you think the baby will give me good luck? Maybe attract other babies? I am so glad I got to find out before everyone else.”

  “Are you clucky? Although you and Cas seem to be hitting it off quite a lot lately. Am I correct in thinking you’ve been sleeping here? Summer says you haven’t been going back to her place. Are you and he—”

  “No. We’re just really good at being friends. Friends who have sleepovers. He’s practically like a girlfriend. Except that he’s more of a boyfriend.” And I’ve never done the things I do with Cas with any of my friends. “But we’re not involved like that. This is more of a temporary thing. So I’m not clucky. I don’t want babies with him.” Would Cas ever want babies? With me? Why am I even thinking about him when it’s Sam who’ll be having my babies? Nope that isn’t right. Sam, who I’ll be having babies with, because I’ll be having sex, falling in love, marrying, and spending the rest of my life with him. Soon. The sooner the better, so Cas and I can drop this charade. “It’s just I do want a family of my own. One day. When I’m with the right guy. It’s really important to me since I didn’t really have that myself.”

  “I get it,” Claire says. “You remind me a bit of Razer. He’s always had us Hadleys, but he didn’t really have any family of his own either. I know it bothers him more than he lets on.”

  “Now he has you and this baby. As well as all the Hadleys.” I smile, caught up in the excitement. That’s all I want, too. It’s not so much, is it? To want to be loved enough to build a family around it. With Sam, we’re already part way there. His sister is like my sister. He’s moving to Reverence. He’s practically settling down already. How long will it take him after we fall in love to decide he wants to be a daddy? Do I want him to father my children?

  “Yes, he does,” Claire agrees. “And now we have a heap of kids to feed, so we better hurry up and put this food on the table.”

  Going back to slicing the bagels, I don’t notice Cas enter until I hear his voice. “Can’t survive without me, huh?”

  A shiver rolls down my spine, stirring up that familiar unsettled feeling in my belly. Whether I like it or not I’m going to find out too soon.

  “No, we definitely can’t,” Claire agrees. “Can you take over?”

  I turn to find him running his gaze over me, and that doesn’t help at all. When he winks and prowls toward me, all that heat in my belly puddles between my thighs. “Absolutely. Mandy and I have this.”

  “Okay. If you’re sure.” Claire unties the apron around her waist and rushes for the door. “I need to send a couple emails anyway. If I can get that out of the way before today’s activities that’ll be great.”

  “Shoo. Out of my kitchen.” Cas takes the butter knife from my hand without a single remark about my safety and puts it down next to the bagels.

  Claire stops at the doors that lead into the dining room. “Your kitchen? I was under the impression I was looking for a permanent chef. Unless you’re telling me that’s no longer the case?”

  His jaw tightens and then he shakes his head. His gaze locked with mine is almost apologetic. “No, you’re still looking.”

  “Too bad,” she says as she leaves the room.

  “Oh well.” I tug my hand free from his and go back to the bagels. There’s no stability when it comes to Cas. No loyalty to anyone but his horse. Nothing safe to fall back on. I can’t believe I considered him and having babies in the same universe even for a minute. Ridiculous.

  This is why I have to use my head and not my clit. And focus on catching my Mister Right.

  “We better buckle down and convince Sam he’s ready for more than he thinks then.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  CASPER

  Goddamn it.

  Thrusting my hands through my hair, I storm out into the yard. Mandy Pearce will be the fucking end of me. Sam Sweets this, Sam Sweets that, blah, blah, blah. Fucking hell, I did not sign up for every word out of her pretty mouth to be about him.

  Did I know that Sam has great genetics?

  Nope.

  Did I know that he was once on TV in a commercial for vitamins? The same multivitamins he still takes daily?

  No, I did not.

  Did I know that he’s been in precisely three relationships?

  Do I look like I fucking want to know? Do I look like I fucking care about the guy who’s going to take Mandy away from me? I swear to God.

  Mandy follows me, stops right outside the blue door. “All I was saying is that Sam was the best in his class at Le Cordon Bleu. I didn’t mean to insult you. You’re both great chefs.”

  Balling my fists by my side, I suck in a breath and push it out through my nose. It’s not the remark about my cooking skills that gets my goat. After all, I graduated from École Lenôtre before I settled in Manhattan. I’ve got more stars than her perfect Sam, and I can speak fluent French, the fucking language of love. Well, I could if I wanted to. It’s been a while since I’ve had any use for it. Or stars. Or Manhattan.

  But that’s not the point. “I don’t give a fuck where he learned to cook, Mandy. Or what multivitamin he takes. Or how damn cute his babies will be.”

  What did I think she was going to do? Forget all about him? Ask me to stay? Or to take her with me?

  “Our babies,” she corrects.

  Damn it all to hell. Where’d this sudden onslaught of baby fever come from? Most of the past five days has been spent in a haze of offhand comments about babies. And Sam. And Sam’s babies, which ended up with me cutting short her musings about the man’s cock.

  Christ. I can’t do this with her. I can’t speculate on another man’s penis with the woman who makes me want the things she talks about having with him. Things I thought I forgot about after Juliette. Things I didn’t expect to want again, but I do. If she told me right now that she wanted me to make a baby with her I’d do it. Up against this door. No question. Not even a heartbeat’s pause. I’d do whatever it took.

  Stalking toward her, I ask, “What if Sam’s not your Mister Right?”

  Her eyes widen as she opens her mouth, but I don’t let her talk. Mandy Pearce can run circles around you, tie you up in knots and leave you wondering how it happened before you get a word in edgewise if you don’t beat her to it. “Have you considered that you’re wrong about him? Sure, he’s going to fall in love with you. The guy doesn’t stand a chance. But do you really think he’s going to live up to your expectations?”

  She doesn’t blink, doesn’t fidget, doesn�
��t drop her gaze. “Of course he wi—”

  “But what if he doesn’t? There’s no guarantee,” I huff. “You want kids with him? That’s why you’re carping on and on and on about them right now?”

  “Yes.” She nods. “Of course I want kids with him.”

  “What if he can’t have them?”

  “We’ll adopt. I was adopted, remember?”

  “What if he doesn’t want them at all?”

  “He already told me he does.”

  “Did he?” Have they gotten closer than I assumed? The thought almost physically knocks me back.

  “He told me he thinks he should settle down and start a family. It’s what he’s said all along, even when he was telling me I was too young.”

  Is there any point in questioning her decision? She’s so pig headed. So stubborn and determined. Sam Sweets will be bowled off his feet, and I can’t bear the idea that he isn’t enough for her. That it should be me. “What if you wake up one day and you realize that great guy has turned into a fat slob who always smells like kitchen prep, and he doesn’t actually leave you full of bliss?”

  “That’s not going to happen. He takes excellent care of himself and his mother is a—”

  “But what if it does?” I groan in frustration. “And then you realize you’re so far from happy that there’s an empty space inside you that nothing can fill? What’s your plan for when your head fails you?”

  “It won’t,” she argues. “He’s a sure bet.”

  “Why?” I press her back against that blue door. The same one I’ve imagined her naked against time and time again. Only now it’s not her body I want to see as I graze my palm down her throat and press it to her chest. “Why is your head better than your heart?”

  “Why do you care?” she asks.

  “Because I do. Because we’re friends.” Because I want her to be certain of her choices. Because I want her to tell me she’s changed her mind and I’m the one instead. Gripping the back of her neck, I peer into her watery, bright eyes. Watery, because of me? Upsetting her deflates me faster than anything else could. I take her face between my hands, silken strands of her hair sticking to my fingers where they cradle her. “So tell me.”