Saving the Bride

by Kira Blakely

  I let out a sigh.

  “So, Chase…” She touches his arm again. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

  Chase’s gaze meets mine. “No.”

  Kelly pumps her fist. “Well, then, would you…?”

  “I’m sorry but I have a lot to do,” Chase says, and enters the storage barn.

  “Told you he was rude,” I tell Kelly.

  She frowns.

  “Well, I actually have other stuff to do, so…”

  “Wait.” Kelly grabs my arm. “I haven’t told you why I’m here.”

  “Oh.”

  I didn’t know she had a reason for coming. I thought it was to show off and gloat as always.

  “I’m throwing a party tomorrow night, you know, to celebrate the start of summer. My friends from college are coming and you should come too.”

  A party?

  I shake my head. “Kelly, you know I don’t like parties.”

  Especially Kelly’s parties, which always get out of hand.

  “Oh, come on.” Kelly holds my hand in both of hers. “Please? Just this one time. It will be fun, I promise.”

  That’s what I’m afraid of.

  “You know how to have fun, don’t you?”

  I don’t answer.

  “Wait. You’re not still a virgin, are you?”

  “Kelly,” I scold, frowning as Chase comes out of the barn.

  “All I’m saying is that you should loosen up a little.” Kelly tugs on my arm. “Come to my party. Drink. Meet my friends. Meet a cute guy who can put your panties in a twist.”

  Chase snorts.

  I narrow my eyes at him. What? Does he think he’s the only guy who can affect me? That I can’t be interested in anyone else but him?

  “You know what?” I tell Kelly. “You’re right. I should go to your party and have some fun. It’s summer, after all.”

  “Great!” Kelly gives me a hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “And oh…” She looks to Chase, who scowls. “Feel free to bring Chase along.”

  Chapter 6

  Chase

  “Chase, I’d like you to go with Lauren to the Monroes’ tonight,” Isaac tells me the next morning as I’m taking the cows to the pasture.

  I keep walking, leading one of the calves. “I’m a farmhand, Isaac, not a babysitter. Besides, she’s twenty and the ranch is right next door.”

  “I know. I know.” Isaac places a hand on my shoulder. “And I trust the Monroes. They’re good people. At least, Mr. and Mrs. Munroe are. It’s their daughter I don’t trust.”

  And I understand why.

  Kelly strikes me as a spoiled brat and a woman who doesn’t know her limits. Seriously, I don’t understand why Lauren is friends with her.

  “Have they known each other long?” I ask.

  “If I recall correctly, they met when they were four,” Isaac says. “They’ve spent time together every summer since.”

  “I see.”

  “She used to be a sweet kid, that Kelly, but when she got into her teens, she…” Isaac shrugs. “…lost her way. Last summer, she threw a dozen parties and I heard one of them nearly burned down a barn.”

  “Really?” My eyebrows furrow.

  Yes, I’ve thrown a few wild parties in my life but we’ve never caused any fires. At least, not that I know of.

  “She invited Lauren to each of them but she never went. I don’t know why she decided to go to one now.”

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  “She said she needed a break from the ranch.”

  More precisely, from me.

  “If you’re so worried about her, you can tell her not to go,” I suggest.

  Isaac shakes his head. “I can’t do that. She’s been cooped up on this ranch for most of her life and she works hard, too. She deserves to have some fun.”

  “Then let her have some fun.”

  Isaac grabs the rope and stands in front of me, forcing me to a stop. “I know I’m asking a lot of you, Chase, and I’m well aware that this isn’t part of your duties but I really want you to go with Lauren.”

  No. He doesn’t know what he’s asking. Yes, I might be able to protect Lauren from Kelly and her friends but I can’t guarantee I can protect her from myself. Hell, I can’t stop thinking about her, wanting her.

  “I’ll feel more at ease knowing you’re with her.”

  And I won’t. I’ll be on edge every minute, keeping myself from pouncing on her.

  “You told me to stay away from your daughter.”

  “I did,” Isaac admits. “And now, I’m asking you to keep her safe. You’re the only one I can count on to do that.”

  And boy, is he wrong. Poor Isaac. I’m the last person in the world he wants near his precious daughter. But if that’s what he wants…

  “You’re sure about this?” I ask him.

  He nods. “Keep her safe. Bring her home.”

  I sigh. “All right.”

  Isaac is my employer, after all. I owe him a lot so I can’t really say no.

  He smiles, patting me on the shoulder. “Thanks, son.”

  Son?

  Oh, well, I guess I’ll have to try to keep my dick in my pants for one evening.

  This should be interesting.

  * * *

  The breeze blows through my hair as I walk down the trail with my hands in my pockets, twigs cracking beneath the soles of my shoes. All around me, the chirping of crickets, the rustling of leaves and the occasional croaking of frogs put on a soothing concert. The stars cheer them on from their pedestals, twinkling across a cloudless sky.

  In a way, it like the night I almost died. Come to think of it, it’s been roughly a month since then. Just like then, I’m in the middle of the woods at night. The main difference is that this time, I’m not with a bunch of goons.

  I’m with Lauren.

  Tonight, she’s wearing a faded denim dress, sleeves up to her elbows and the hem of the skirt, which is trimmed with white lace, stops above her knees. She walks ahead of me, the skirt swaying to and fro, rustling softly, and whenever the wind blows, it billows, and Lauren grabs the sides to keep it from flipping up.

  Shame. I would have loved to see what underwear she has on beneath that dress.

  On her feet, she has a pair of brown mid-calf boots and on her head, a silver headband keeps her raven hair out of her face. Even so, the breeze sweeps some strands free and she pauses every now and then to brush them away.

  Oh, what I’d give to brush those strands away.

  She walks quickly, quietly, the flashlight in her hand. She hasn’t uttered a word since we left the house with her stomping her feet and grumbling in annoyance at her father’s decision to have me accompany her.

  She breathes heavily, mumbling as she swats a bug out of her way or making a strained sound as she climbs over fallen logs in her path. Her shoulder bag slaps against her hip whenever she makes a jump, its contents rattling.

  “Do you want to stop?” I ask her.

  “No,” she answers, not stopping for a second.

  She halts at the banks of a brook, lowering her flashlight.

  “What is it?” I ask, stepping beside her, my hand dances to the pistol Isaac lent me, which is tucked into the back of my jeans.

  She doesn’t answer. Danger? Fuck, what is it?

  Not danger, no, but fireflies rising from the bushes, dancing.

  Lauren turns off her flashlight, and they appear like stardust drifting on the breeze, soundlessly floating around us and shining their little lights into the darkness like the stars which gleam above.

  I smile. I’ve seen fireflies gather before. They’re beautiful.

  But this time, they’re not all that’s beautiful.

  As Lauren watches them with eyes wide and glistening with wonder, lips curved up into a gentle smile, she’s one of them – ethereal, radiant.

  She looks like a child on Christmas morning, except she’s
not a child. She’s a grown woman with all the accompanying dips and curves and that smell of roses that rides on the breeze.

  A grown woman with the expected effect over a grown man like me.

  Just watching her expression, my boxers become uncomfortably tight, my breathing getting uneven. I reach out to hold her hand, wanting her closer to me, but then, she steps forward.

  “We should go.”

  She lifts her flashlight, about to turn it on but she slips. The flashlight falls to the ground, bouncing off a rock, but I catch her, wrapping my arms around her.

  “I’ve got you.”

  Lauren looks up at me, her hazel eyes wide but this time with fear, which fades as I stare into them, the golden specks that are the fireflies dancing in her eyes. Beneath their glow, the rosy tint of her cheeks, the sheen of sweat gleaming on her forehead is obvious.

  Her breath, stolen by her fall, escapes as gasps from parted lips. I hold her and pant.

  I want nothing more than to kiss her, to fuck her right here beneath the blizzard of fireflies, to take a tumble with her all over the carpet of fallen leaves. I want it so bad my cock rages in my pants.

  She looks away, though, and the spell is broken, the connection severed.

  I want her but if something is to happen between us, she must make the first move. I did warn her to stay away from me, after all.

  I lift her to her feet then step back to give her some space.

  She straightens the front of her dress then takes off her headband to comb her hair with her fingers. I pick up the flashlight that has fallen to the ground and hand it back to her.

  “Thanks,” she mutters.

  “Careful.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” she says, turning her back to me. She turns on the flashlight. “I can handle myself.”

  And off she stomps again, even faster this time, leaving the brook, the fireflies, and me behind with my huge problem.

  * * *

  Thankfully, by the time we get to the next ranch, my problem has been taken care of.

  The Monroe ranch is three times the size of Little Peace Ranch, or so one of the farmhands told me on the way through the gated fence. The house is much bigger, a mansion sitting among acres of orchards, fields, and pastures. And more modern, its façade a combination of buff bricks, stone chimneys, a gray slate roof, and French windows.

  Approaching it, I can already hear the loud music booming from speakers in the backyard. When Lauren and I get there, the party is already in full swing.

  There’s a lot of people, probably more than fifty – scantily clad girls who are clones of Kelly with different hairstyles and slightly older boys, with cowboy hats and vests on.

  Most of them dance under the bright spotlights by the pool, right in front of a makeshift stage where a DJ in sunglasses and a red cap spins and massacres tracks.

  The others cozy up to bottles of beer or to each other in dark corners.

  There’s also a handful of them in the pool and another across the yard, right next to the grills, either gobbling up the burgers and steaks or flirting with the men in uniform flipping them.

  This is wild? I’ve seen worse.

  It’s strange, though. Parties used to be my thing but now, as I look around, I’m bored.

  “Lauren!”

  Kelly’s voice rises above the music as she makes her way through the crowd like a runway model, shoulders back and hips swaying. She looks like one, with her makeup, her knee-high boots, her leather cowboy hat that’s curled at the edges, the yellow blouse that hangs off her shoulders, and the pair of denim shorts riding up her thighs fastened to her waist by a glittering belt.

  Still, I’m unimpressed.

  “Lauren, I’m so glad you came!” She gives her friend a hug. “For a moment there, I thought you weren’t going to show up again.”

  “I said I’d be here, didn’t I?” Lauren answers, patting Kelly’s back. “What’s with the cowboy hats?”

  “Oh.” She takes off her hat. “My friends from college wanted to have a little theme and they decided to be cowboys and cowgirls since we’re on a ranch but it’s not anything monetary.”

  “You mean mandatory,” I say.

  She gives me her wide, lip-glossed smile as she holds her hat to her chest. “Hi, Chase. I’m so glad you came, too. You clean up nice.” She studies my casual Oxford shirt and black jeans, then nods Lauren. “You look good, too.”

  “Thanks,” Lauren says. “So do you. I especially like your boots. Are those the one you were talking about?”

  Kelly’s eyebrows crease. “What do you mean?”

  “The boots you said you and your friends all had made by that designer.”

  “Oh. Manolo Blahnik?” She puts one boot forward. “No. These aren’t Blahnik. They’re cheap boots that are like less than two hundred bucks. And they’re boots, not booties. Booties only go up to the ankles.”

  She demonstrates by putting her hand over her own.

  “Oh.” Lauren nods. “Well, thanks for the fashion lesson.”

  Kelly gives a condescending smile. “You’re always welcome.”

  She turns back to me, opening her mouth to say something. But she stops, nodding and touching her chin as her emerald eyes narrow.

  “What’s wrong?” Lauren asks her.

  “Oh, I was thinking that now that Chase is properly dressed and all, he looks quite familiar.”

  My shoulders tense. “You must be mistaken,” I tell Kelly.

  “Are you sure we haven’t met before?” She closes in.

  “I’m sure.”

  Well, I’m not that sure but I don’t think so. I hung out with a lot of women, true, but rarely younger ones.

  “Hmm,” Kelly says. “You’re probably right. After all, I’d remember if I met you before, especially since I’d probably sleep with you.” She places the cowboy hat on my head, lowers her voice to a whisper. “I still can if you want.”

  I say nothing.

  She steps back beside Lauren, winking. Out loud, she says, “Well, since you’re here, you should enjoy yourselves. Why don’t you dance with me, Chase?”

  She stretches out her arm.

  “Sorry, but I don’t dance,” I tell her. I take off the hat and hand it back to her.

  Kelly doesn’t give up. “How about a personal tour of the house then?”

  She puts emphasis on the word personal.

  “No, thanks,” I say. Lauren tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear next to me. “I’m here to watch over Lauren.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know that was part of a farmhand’s duties.” Kelly looks at Lauren as well. “Or that you needed a chaperone.”

  “I don’t,” Lauren answers. “But my dad insisted.”

  “I see.” Kelly puts her hat back on.

  “So, you see, I’m here strictly on business,” I say.

  “Does that mean I can’t offer you a bottle of beer?”

  I shake my head. “Sorry.”

  “Pity.” She clicks her tongue. “Well, help yourself to some steak and soda then.”

  “Thanks.”

  She places her arm around Lauren’s shoulder, hauling her away. “Well, you heard him. He’s working but you, my friend, are going to have fun. Let’s go grab you a beer and meet some of my friends.”

  * * *

  I lift my glass of water and sip. Does nothing to cool my frustration.

  Lauren’s with her second bottle of beer. She throws her head back and laughs at something funny the guy in front of says.

  I don’t trust him. Not one bit. Not with his unbuttoned polo shirt over his tank top, that grin of his or the way he’s staring at Lauren as if he’ll devour her. Fucking loser.

  I’ll punch him. In fact, my free hand’s already rolled into a fist at my side, clenching and unclenching. But I try to calm myself down. I shouldn’t make a scene.

  Besides, I have no right to be jealous.

  “Hey.” A woman with short, blond hair and a white blo
use paired with tight-fitting leather pants stops in front of me. “Can I get you a beer or something stronger?”

  I set my empty cup of water down. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

  She turns around to the group of women behind her, who giggle. They’ve been taking turns trying to get me to spend time with them, probably betting among themselves or something, which frankly, I’m starting to find annoying.

  “How about a dance, then?”

  “Sorry, but I’m sure your friend already told you I don’t dance.”

  “Well, we don’t have to dance.” She shrugs. “We can hold hands and sway.”

  I go back to staring at Lauren. “Or you can find someone your age who you can play with.”

  “Fine.”

  She walks off and huddles with her friends who’re already formulating new plans.

  I don’t mind. I watch Lauren as she laughs again.

  She must be drunk. She’s only finished one bottle but she must be to laugh so hard and often.

  Just then, she wobbles and I almost run to her but the guy she’s talking to places an arm around her, keeping her steady, and she laughs again.

  Yup. She’s definitely had enough to drink.

  Thankfully, she ditches that second bottle on a table. But then she and the guy head to the dance floor.

  I stand my ground, watching her like a hawk as Lauren raises her arms up in the air, rolling her shoulders and wiggling her hips.

  Wow. I didn’t know she could dance.

  The guy beside her moves as well, staying close to her. The urge to punch him gets stronger.

  Easy, Chase. They’re just dancing.

  Well, at first, they are, but then he turns her around and places his hands on her waist and my composure snaps. In a few steps, I’m there between them, prying Lauren away from him.

  “What are you doing?” Lauren asks in a slurred, annoyed voice.

  “Keeping you safe,” I drag her out of the crowd.

  “Let me go.” She tries to free her wrist but fails.

  “We’re going home.” I don’t stop.

  “What’s your problem?”

  “Nothing. You, on the other hand, have a serious problem.”