Catching Mr. Right

by Misti Murphy

  “Back off,” Sam tells him. “Let her be.”

  “Why?” Cas glowers at him. “You want her, don’t you? You’ve been waiting to get between us since she chose me instead of you. But you don’t love her.”

  And this can’t be real. Cas is pushing Sam. That’s all. He doesn’t want me to tell him to stay. “Cas, please, you’re making this worse than it has to be.”

  “Maybe I do,” Sam says. His blue eyed gaze lands on mine and he shakes his head as if he can’t believe he’s only starting to come to the conclusion he has, or like maybe he’s still not all that sure it’s appropriate. “I have feelings for you, Mandy. I don’t know what they are, exactly, but I’d like to find out.”

  I almost swoon. Hearing the man of your dreams tell you he has feelings is like finding a bag filled with only pink M&M’s. It’s like winning the lottery. It’s a perfect moment. And there aren’t so many of those that it doesn’t stop my whole world on its axis. “You mean that?”

  “I do.”

  “Mandy.” Cas’s voice is raw and strangled. “Please.”

  I turn my back on him because he’s too convincing. If I didn’t know better I would think we both meant every word that we’re saying. I would believe this break up was real, that these emotions were real. Only my head knows better. “Sam, can you take me home?”

  “Sure,” he says, gripping my elbow. “I’ll let the others know we’re leaving.”

  Cas’s fingers brush against my wrist as Sam ushers me past him. They spark warmth along my nerves all the way to my heart. I glance back. For a second. For long enough that I will never be able to forget the way he looks at me. The same way he did the first time I caught him looking at me when he thought I wasn’t watching him. Only now he’s unguarded and open.

  “Je suis amoureux de toi,” he says.

  What the hell does that even mean? I shake my head as I focus on Sam’s warm hand engulfing my elbow as he pulls me through the crowd. Knowing Cas, it’s probably French for, You’re a pain in my ass.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  SAM

  “Did you eat? Are you hungry?” I unlock the restaurant door and usher Mandy inside. “I have homemade vanilla bean ice cream in the freezer. I could whip you up some comfort food.”

  “I’m not really hungry,” she says, crossing the carpeted dining room. “Have I told you how great it looks in here now that you’re close to opening? Are you going ahead with the original timeline?”

  “We should.” I pop the top button on my shirt and then another. “Is it too warm in here? Should I turn up the air?”

  “No.” She shakes her head, smiles small. “It’s not so bad.”

  What happened between her and her boyfriend must have Mandy shaken up. She’s never so quiet. I scratch my neck and try to come up with something to break the ice. “That dress is amazing.”

  She glances down at the silver fabric that hangs from her shoulders by thin straps, stretches across her breasts, and flows to mid-thigh. “Thank you. I bought it especially for tonight.”

  I don’t know what to say to that. Striding across to the bar, I scan the chilled bottles in the fridge beneath it and decide to pour two glasses of sparkling wine. “Oh. I have your birth certificate.”

  “You do?” She perks up.

  “Here.” I collect it from my laptop bag and hand it to her with the glass of wine. I almost feel sorry for Casper Morgan, because the way she looks at me makes me feel so very big. It makes me want to protect her, and hold her close, and call her mine. I could fall in love with Mandy Pearce. With her green eyes and her blinding smile. With her crazy ability to say what’s on her mind, and to go after what she wants. I could feel alive with her. Standing so close to her, I already do. My skin buzzes and my mouth waters, and I need a taste so I bow my head to kiss her. Just once tonight, because it’s already been a crazy, emotional, mixed up night, and I don’t want to make it any more difficult.

  Plenty of time. No need to move fast.

  The moment our lips meet, I’m wrong. She curls an arm around my neck and throws herself into the kiss. She’s passion and exhilaration, and I’m caught up in it as our mouths move together, our tongues war for dominance. Kissing her now when there’s nothing to hold either of us back is like turning my face to the storm. She pushes my shirt up over my torso, and I pull it over my head without undoing the rest of the buttons. My pulse races as I tighten my hands around her waist and lift her up. I want Mandy Pearce and there’s nothing to stop me.

  She winds her legs around me, the silver material bunching at her hips as I carry her from the dining room with its big arch windows to the privacy of the kitchen. In the moment I sit her on the bench and break away long enough to take the wine glass from her hand, I get a glimpse of her peach pink lace bra. Then we’re kissing again, consuming each other. Her face between my hands, my hardness between her legs.

  “This is really happening,” she whispers near my ear, as I push up her dress and hook my fingers into her panties to drag them down. “Isn’t it?”

  “It is.” I suck on her bottom lip, her panties wound around my fist while I lean into her and she undoes my belt and the button on my pants. Her fingers hook in the top of my boxer briefs and draw them down until my cock springs free. It’s already hard, pre-cum beading at the tip. I can practically conjure up how hot her pussy will be when I slam into it. Soon I’m going to fuck her like I’ve dreamed about, fantasized about, been unable to get out of my head. “All this time you knew we’d end up here, Mandy.”

  “I wanted you,” she says.

  “And I want you.” I push her dress down to her hips so that she’s bare except for her bra and a flash of silver around her waist like a bow on a present. Gripping her knees, I push her legs wider. “I wish I hadn’t so stubbornly tried to avoid it.”

  “You’re a hard man to convince.” She takes my dick in her hand, squeezes it and then pumps her hand up and down the shaft until I groan. “But I knew eventually you would see that you could want to fall for me.”

  “You’d be easy to love, Mandy Pearce.” I slip to the floor between her legs and kiss her knee. “Any man could fall for you, given time. I think even me.”

  “Even you,” she whispers.

  “Maybe you’re not too young for me.” I kiss the inside of her other knee. “Maybe I’m not so old I have to play it safe.” I find a spot higher on her thigh with my lips. I can smell her arousal, and I’m almost ready to come before we’ve even begun. “Perhaps we’re meant to find out what we want out of life together.”

  “But… I already know what I want.” The way she says it gives me pause. “Sam? Please stop. I can’t do this. I can’t…”

  I lift my head to find her staring down at me. Her silver hair cascades around her shoulders. Silent tears roll down her cheeks and drip from her chin. “Sam, I don’t understand. Why am I crying? I’m supposed to be happy. This is what I wanted. So why are there tears?” She brushes at them with the back of her hand, which only makes them come faster. “What’s wrong with me?”

  Getting up, I pull her into my arms. “It’s all right. It’s been a long, complicated night. We took this too fast.”

  “That’s not it.” She presses her wet cheek to my chest. “That’s not it at all. I wanted you. You were logical, and safe, and dependable, with an inbuilt family. That’s what I wanted. What I want. That’s why Cas and I went to all this trouble to make you realize you were falling for me.”

  “You planned this?” I’m staggered, but then it hits me. I thought she was the reason I was throwing caution to the wind, and the whole time she was cautiously choosing just the right man to fall in love with and vigilantly working an entire plan based around her choice. A wrong choice, because I’m not that man. Not really. “Is that how you see me?”

  “That’s who you are,” she says. “Do you not see it? You’re perfect for me. So why do I feel like this is the last thing I want? Why am I not over the moon and riding your coc
k? You have a nice cock, by the way. The right length, strong, dependable, sort of sweet looking. But it’s not Cas’s. I don’t want it in me. I only want his.”

  I try not to be affronted by that. She has a way with words those around her have to learn to live with. But I’m not so sure I want to go any further down this yellow brick road with her, either. She’s probably picked out the names for our picture perfect kids. And for the first time in my life I don’t even know if I want any. Dragging this out because I’m attracted to her would be irresponsible. Falling in love with her when I’m not what she wants would end up hurting us both. Especially when it’s clear she’s head over heels in love with someone else.

  “It’s okay, you know.” Her hair is smooth under my fingers. Glistening waves of silk.

  “What is?” She hiccups.

  “To admit you’re wrong. To not have a clue where you’re going. Maybe to even take a chance on things that may or may not work out. To fall in love with the wrong guy every now and then.”

  “Is that what this is?” She sobs harder, clinging to me. “Is this really what it feels like? Losing someone you care about? Because I don’t know how people can stand it.”

  “Honestly?”

  She nods and runs her fingers along her lower lashes. It doesn’t help much. Mascara smudges thick and dark under her touch. “Don’t sugar coat it.”

  “Yes.” I press her panties back into her hand and tuck my dick back in my pants as discreetly as I can. This situation is already awkward enough without drawing attention to the fact I’m still at half-mast. “I’ve only ever felt like that once. It was a long time ago, and it was enough for me to never want to feel that way about anybody again. I love my family, and I like women. I’ve liked quite a few women, dated some of them for a lengthy span of time because I liked them so much. But not so much it hurt. Trust me, playing safe, it isn’t enough. For either of us.”

  “It isn’t, is it?” She finally notices her panties in her hand. She shakes her head, but her gaze is momentarily clear of tears. She furrows her brow, then puts the lace down beside her on the counter so she can pull the straps of her dress up. “You and I would have been boring, wouldn’t we?”

  “I think so.” I help her down from the work surface, careful not to touch her in a way that isn’t purely platonic. “Maybe we were meant to be friends. Only friends.”

  “I think that sounds good.” She picks up her panties and shimmies into them. “I’d like that a lot.” She looks around the kitchen where we almost screwed up everything and wrinkles her nose. “Do you have to disinfect the whole place now? Since we ended up so close to naked? I’m sorry I’ve made extra work for you.”

  Chuckling, I usher back into the dining area to where we left my shirt and her shoes. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “I’m trying.” She steps into her shoes as I pull on my shirt and move to the bar to pour us both a brandy.

  “I can’t help but imagine that Cas would tell me I was a pain in the ass for making him have to disinfect the whole kitchen if we’d had similar circumstances. Or that French phrase he was spouting at me tonight. Ama, amoureux de toy or whatever it was.”

  I freeze with the glass halfway to my mouth. “You don’t know a lick of French, do you?”

  “Not a syllable.” She takes the second glass in front of me and sniffs it. “It doesn’t matter though. Everything between us was a farce. We pretended to be together so you’d be jealous. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t supposed to be.” She tosses the brandy back. “Oh gosh, that’s like fire.”

  “It’ll help make this situation less awkward and embarrassing,” I tell her.

  “Will it help me forget Cas?” She studies the bottom of her empty glass and then puts it down on the glistening bar top. “I don’t know how I fell for him, but it’s one sided. Definitely one sided. He’s leaving. He might be gone already. He’s probably glad to see the back of me.”

  “Bullshit.” I follow her example and drink the spicy, potent liquid. “Cas is mad for you.”

  “He’s not.” She shakes her head and the tears are back. “I wish he was.”

  “You don’t see the way he looks at you. Trust me, I did. God, I was jealous of the way you two clearly feel about each other.” I pour another shot of brandy for myself. I wanted so badly to have what they had, and they didn’t even know themselves. “That’s how obvious it was.”

  “He never said anything. If he did… if he just decided to stay…” she picks up the envelope with her birth certificate, folds it in half and pushes it into her clutch without looking at it. “But he didn’t, because he doesn’t. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. I don’t have a plan.”

  “He did tell you.” I finish the scotch. “Je suis amoureux de toi. It means something like, I’m falling for you. I can’t remember exactly. It’s been a long time since I’ve had any use for French. That’s what he was telling you when we left Mayhem.”

  “He was telling me he’s falling for me? Maybe you don’t know the language like you think you do. If he wanted to tell me something like that why wouldn’t he come out and say it? He was as outspoken as I am when we met.”

  “Mandy Pearce, you are the stubbornest person I know, and you are fiercely determined. Tonight, you were determined to come home with me.”

  “He thought I wouldn’t want to hear him?” She gapes.

  “Did you ever give him any reason to believe differently? Would you have wanted to know if he’d told you?”

  “No.” The color drains from her face and her eyes sparkle with unshed tears. “And now he’s probably gone. And I’ll never see him again. He’ll just ride off into the sunset on his horse.”

  “Mandy?” I move to her side of the bar and cup her face to make her focus. “What exactly would you do if you caught the guy, anyhow? There’s no certainty that you could get him to stay. He might not want to rehash these last few months, especially after you came home with me. You might end up hurting even more. He might not be the right guy at all.”

  “Maybe,” she says. Then she’s backing toward the door. “But that’s why I should go and find out, right?”

  “Should you?”

  “He’s not safe and predictable like I thought you were, like I thought I wanted, but if he loves me…” She pushes open the door. “If there’s any chance he wants to stick around and see how this thing ends…” She shrugs, but she looks kind of hopeful. “I better hurry.”

  “Yeah, you better.” I snatch up my keys. “I’ll drive you out to the ranch.”

  Twenty-Six

  CASPER

  “Come on, Soldier. Get your ass in the trailer.” I yank on his harness.

  He shakes his big head and plants his front hooves more firmly on the ramp. His brown eyes study me under thick gray lashes. I swear he’s got something to say about leaving this town. Or maybe leaving her. Mandy.

  “Come on.” I growl in frustration. “We have to go. We’ve reached the end of the road here.”

  He sucks in his wide barrel chest and blows a hot snort of breath from both nostrils. Then he tosses his mane again. His hooves echo in the dark as he steps back not once, but twice.

  “Fuck you too,” I mutter at him. “Now get in the trailer before I sell you for dog food.”

  It’s an empty threat and he knows it. He barely pricks his ears up at the turn our conversation is taking. Juliette would have laughed at me, and then she would have marched right up to him, pressed her face to his and crooned to the big baby. He was the real love of her life. The two of them were inseparable, they were conquering their world, and I got taken along for the ride. She was never going to give that up to come home with me. Just like Mandy would never give up on chasing her idea of Mister Right because I happened to have fallen for her.

  I take his big head between my hands and press my forehead to his. His coat is soft and warm against my skin and smells like sunshine and comfort. “You are all I have left, Soldier. It’s just y
ou and me on this ride now. Our Juliette’s gone. Mandy doesn’t feel about me like I feel about her. Moira wants to take you away from me. There’s nothing else to do but to move on. Now can you please, please, please get in the trailer?”

  He blinks those long horsey eyelashes, and doesn’t move a muscle. Not a fucking one.

  “Damn it, why can’t you do what I’m asking?” I stare him down. “We have to go. Now. We need to get loaded up and on the road before Moira finds out you’re here. And you can’t wait for Mandy to say goodbye. She’s not coming. She doesn’t care about us like that. She’s got her own plans. We’re not part of them.”

  Soldier takes another step back. The ramp shifts under our feet. The chains that hold it in place rattle.

  I can’t handle any more. Can’t stand being so close to where Mandy is. Not when I can’t stop imagining her with Sam. The two of them together.

  “Why are you being such a fucking asshole?” I yell at him. “What do you want me to do? She’s going to be happy with him. That’s what we all want, isn’t it?” He doesn’t make a noise. Simply stares at me while I rant. I can practically hear him telling me I’m being an idiot. The tension falls away and I’m choked with hopelessness. “This is how it is. I told her how I felt. She wasn’t interested. What else do you want me to do?”

  I turn my back on him and stalk up the ramp. I need a moment. A minute. I need to catch a breath. “Christ, why can’t you behave like a normal run of the mill pony? You’ve got five minutes and when I come back you better get on the trailer or I am going to—”

  “Why are you threatening the poor boy?” Mandy asks, hopping up on the ramp and comforting Soldier. He snorts softly and his sides move with his breath as he mouths the hand she uses to pet his nose. Still dressed in silver, her hair hanging loose down her back, she addresses him. “Don’t mind Cas. He’s extra grumpy tonight. Things didn’t go the way he would have liked them to. You see, I don’t know French. Unless you count ‘croissant.’ I suppose that would have to actually be a French word, right? Ooh, and Brie? Maybe Camembert.”