The Braddock Boys: Travis
Kimberly Raye
Cowboy Travis Braddock is seeking vengeance. It’s a thirst that’s consumed him for a hundred and fifty years – along with a hunger for women he can’t seem to slake…Being a vampire isn’t easy! Wedding planner Holly Simms catches his eye – she looks good enough to eat and she’s trying to ditch her good-girl image.So they strike a bargain – wickedly hot sex… with no strings attached!
The Braddock
Boys: Travis
Kimberly Raye
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Reader,
They’re baaaaaaack …
Travis Braddock is a wild and wicked cowboy with a ripped bod, a knack for horses and enough sex appeal to melt even the toughest woman’s resolve. He’s also a 150-year-old vampire dead set on revenge. His plans are derailed, however, when he meets wedding planner Holly Simms.
A three-time loser when it comes to men, Holly has given up on finding her own happily ever after. The last thing she wants is forever. Luckily, the sexy cowboy who arrives in Skull Creek to attend her latest wedding has temporary written all over him.
I hope you enjoy reading Travis and Holly’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it! AS a writer, the Blaze line has always been near and dear to my heart. I love intense, powerful stories that push limits and unearth the sensuality buried deep down inside all of us. For me, love and lust go hand in hand and it’s been a dream come true exploring them both for the past ten years. Whether it’s cowboys or vampires, I’ve been able to portray my characters with real passion and true emotion, and that means the world to me. My heartfelt thanks to Harlequin & MILLS & Boon for allowing my stories to be a part of such a wonderful collection of books.
Kimberly Raye
This book is dedicated to the real
Holly and her hubby Tim.
Thanks for being such great friends!
Table of Contents
Cover (#uc1e00b41-e2a3-5a77-b47f-6d2f9707dca3)
Title Page (#udd66d562-c1bf-5cdc-ab71-e578d5a4780c)
Dedication (#ube80a4ff-1582-5165-b046-a7c170104a56)
Chapter One (#ub51d666a-289b-52b9-b1e0-e2ffb903f09e)
Chapter Two (#ufa8aff81-7b2e-5ef7-bf5b-217038cd5b5f)
Chapter Three (#u07b79d92-6f2b-5efc-ad46-a905d55896fb)
Chapter Four (#u941957ba-0415-5415-aed0-64732589fb0e)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
1
THERE WERE WOMEN EVERYWHERE.
That was the first thought that struck as Travis Braddock pulled up at the front gate of the CB Ranch. The lawn in front of the sprawling two-story house had been set up for an outdoor ceremony, complete with a red carpet for the bride, huge flower arrangements and lots of free standing candelabras because it was an evening affair. He’d expected a small shindig, but there were at least a hundred people crowded into the rows of white chairs that flanked either side of the aisle. Mostly females.
Hungry females.
A mix of perfume, lush sensuality and raw need wafted through the open window of the Land Rover and teased his nostrils. His groin tightened and he stiffened.
An overabundance of women was usually a good thing.
Particularly for a one hundred and fifty year old vampire who fed off sex as ravenously as he did blood. But Travis wasn’t here because of the beast that lived and breathed inside of him.
Tonight was all about revenge.
He’d spent the last one hundred and fifty years blaming his three brothers for the massacre that had killed their family while they’d been off raiding for the Confederacy. He pointed the finger at his youngest brother Cody because he’d run off and joined the army in the first place, forcing the rest of the brothers to leave home just to keep an eye on him. He held Brent responsible because he’d refused to call it quits a week early when the war had been all but lost anyway. And he resented his oldest brother Colton because he’d forced them to detour to Austin to file an official report about their last raid before heading home to discover the carnage.
He’d blamed his brothers. But the real blame lay with his sister-in-law. Rose was the one responsible.
A traitor.
A killer.
He ignored that tiny niggle that told him he was jumping the gun. That maybe there was some crazy explanation for what had happened. That maybe, just maybe, Rose Braddock hadn’t set fire to the Braddock spread and fed her own family to the wolves all those years ago.
His nephew had died in that tragic fire. So had his mother. A half dozen ranch hands. And Rose herself, or so they’d all thought. The entire place had been a blazing inferno when Travis and his brothers had ridden in.
They’d been too late to save anyone that fateful night, even themselves. One minute they’d been trotting along, making plans for the future and the next, they’d found themselves smack dab in the middle of a fiery nightmare. Before they’d had a chance to figure out what was going on, much less rescue anyone, Travis and his three brothers had been attacked from behind and left for dead.
They’d died that night. But they’d also been reborn. Thanks to an ancient vampire who’d happened upon the scene and given the Braddock brothers a second chance.
He’d done the same for Rose.
That’s the story Cody had recently uncovered when he’d tracked down their maker right here in Skull Creek, Texas. Rose hadn’t died in the fire as originally thought. Rather, she’d fled the scene with a man. The pair had been attacked a few miles away by Indians. Garret Sawyer had arrived after the attack and done the only thing he could to help the innocent couple who’d been left for dead by a band of Commanches. He’d turned them, just as he’d turned the Braddocks.
Innocent?
Like hell. Rose wasn’t the loving sister-in-law, the caring mother, the perfect daughter-in-law they’d thought. She’d fooled the entire family. Every damned one of them.
But not for long.
Cody had sent a letter explaining the truth about Rose and the all-important fact that he now knew her whereabouts.
The news had chased Travis around a few weeks before finally catching up with him at the Bar T Ranch in Montana. He’d been hired on to break some horses for the owner and was smack dab in the middle of a midnight session when one of the hands had flagged him down with the frayed envelope.
Inside had been a brief description of the incriminating evidence Cody had on Rose, the news that he’d finally found her and—much to Travis’s astonishment—a piece of engraved cardstock requesting his presence at tonight’s event.
A bonafide wedding invitation. After all the bad blood between them.
He still couldn’t believe Cody had invited him. Any more than he could believe his brother was fool enough to think he would ever be satisfied with just one woman. He needed sex as much as he needed the blood. It was a need that was fierce. Intense. All-consuming. The hunger didn’t lend itself to monogamy, that was for damn sure. No matter what delusion Cody was operating under, he wasn’t the marrying kind. None of them were.
Travis knew that firsthand. He’d tried to settle down with one woman. To pretend he hadn’t changed that fateful night, that he didn’t yearn for sex the way a man craved his next breath. He’d tried, all right. And he’d failed. And Amelia, his childhood sweetheart, had gone to her grave hating his guts because he’d cheated on her.
He wouldn’t do that to another woman. He wouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep.
But Travis wasn’t here to warn his baby bro about the nature of the beast, and he sure as hell wasn’t here as a guest. He was here for information.
For forgiveness.
The thought struck and he drop-kicked it right back out of his head.
Even if he did regret the fallout with his brothers—which he didn’t—there were too many bad feelings between them to make amends now. He’d turned on them and they’d turned their back on him. That was that.
Travis stared through the windshield at the lavish spread. His hyper sensitive sight zoomed in on the rose archway where his youngest brother stood facing a petite blonde. To his left, stood his other brother Brent. That sucker-punched Travis right in the gut for a long moment. Brent was the last person Travis expected to see standing next to Cody. Brent wasn’t the stand-up type. He was wild. Free. Selfish.
Then.
But now?
There was no denying that he was here. Cody’s best man. His friend. His brother.
Travis’s chest hitched as he watched Brent hand over the ring. The gold band slid into place and Cody sealed the deal with a kiss. And just like that, the ceremony ended.
Which meant Travis was too late once again.
If he’d come to see the exchange of vows, that is, which he sure as hell hadn’t. He was here for Rose. To find out her whereabouts.
Nothing else mattered.
He swallowed against the tightness in his throat and climbed out of the Land Rover. Walking through the gate, he crossed the massive lawn. It seemed his baby bro had done pretty well for himself riding bulls on the PBR circuit. Travis had kept tabs on him and knew Cody had won a few championships, but he hadn’t realized the size of the payouts.
Obviously they had been big. Real big.
He closed the distance to the throng of guests and made his way toward the archway where the bride and groom stood amid a shower of camera flashes.
Just before he reached his target, a group of elderly women pushed in front of him to admire the bride’s dress. He tried to slip through, but the women were intent on getting an eyeful.
“Doesn’t she look lovely?” one woman said.
“That dress must have cost a small fortune.”
“I heard her new beau took care of the tab AND bought her this place as a wedding present.”
“Can we stop all this lollygagging and go find a seat? My bunions are killing me?”
“Excuse me,” Travis said to one blue-haired woman as he tried to make his way past her.
She turned a pair of cataract-clouded gray eyes on him and smiled. “My, my but you’re a strapping young man.” “You remind me of my dear, sweet, departed Walter before he kicked the bucket.”
The last thought echoed loud and clear in Travis’s head as he made eye contact with the woman and his chest hitched.
Her name was Gladys Martin and she lived at the local senior’s home where the bride worked as the activities coordinator. Miranda had personally invited all of the ladies at the home and had even taken them to Austin on a shopping trip so they could all buy something special to wear on her big day. She’d also promised to take a picture with each and every one of them, which was why Gladys was waiting in line.
Travis tipped his hat and grinned. “I hate to trouble you, ma’am, but I need to scoot by you and have a quick word with the groom if you don’t mind.”
She looked as if she wanted to protest, but then Travis stared deep into her eyes for a long moment and acceptance sparked. She smiled. “Of course, dear.”
She started to move, but then an ancient little man with a bald head and a mean expression stepped in front of her and broke the temporary spell Travis had cast.
“Hold your britches there, sonny.” Arbor Crabtree poked Travis in the chest with a bony finger. “We all want our picture taken with Miranda and we’re not about to be sideswiped by some young buck who cain’t wait his turn. You’ll get back to the end of the line lickety-split if you know what’s good for you.”
While Travis’s charm worked with the females, he was out of luck when it came to men. Particularly Arbor. He was a two-time decorated war veteran who’d carved up an enemy sniper with his witling knife in a one-on-one battle back in 1942. He still had the knife to this day, carrying it in his pocket for bragging rights.
He also had a hemorrhoid that was making him even crankier than the fact that he’d lost at checkers to Milton Decker earlier that afternoon.
The point? Arbor was not about to be crossed by man or vampire.
Travis held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not trying to put any one out, sir. I’ve just come a long way is all.”
“So did I. Do you know how far away we had to park? Why, this place is busier than the Dairy Queen on senior citizen night.”
“They give free ice cream to anyone over sixty-five,” one of the women added.
“And whipped cream.”
“That sounds real nice,” Travis said. “But I just need to talk to my—“
“Is there a problem here?” The soft, feminine voice slid into his ear and cut him off mid-sentence. He turned toward the female who appeared on his left, her hands on her hips, her blue eyes drilling into him.
She was at least a head shorter than he was, with long, blond hair that had been swept up into a tight, no frills ponytail. She wore a knee-length black skirt and a plain white button up blouse. Sensible black pumps. Boring.
That’s what he told himself. No legs up to here or breasts out to there.
At the same time, she had the most incredible eyes he’d ever seen. Pale blue with just a hint of green around the edges. Color so translucent that, for a split second, he saw only his own reflection in their sparkling depths.
No thoughts. None of her personal stats. Nothing. Not even her name.
Before Travis could delve deeper, she shifted her attention to the old man.
“What’s going on, Mr. Crabtree?”
“This whippersnapper is trying to cut in line,” the man declared. “But Miranda promised me I could have the first picture. I cain’t stand for long without my arthritis acting up.”
“Mine, too,” a woman added. “I’ve got seconds.”
“And I’ve got a corn on my big toe that’s aching something fierce so I get to go third.”
The pale blue eyes darkened just a hint, killing the reflection that had him so mesmerized and opening the door so that he could see straight into her thoughts.
Her name was Holly Simms. Mid-twenties. She was a wedding planner who loved dogs, Reeses’ Peanut Butter cups and her job. Except when she had to deal with stubborn guests or a lying, cheating, line-cutting cowboy.
Ouch. “I wasn’t trying to cut in front of anyone.” He shrugged. “I’m just here to talk to the groom.”
“And we’re here to talk to the bride,” Arbor added. “She promised us pictures and I’m not moving ‘til I get my picture.”
“Me either,” a woman added.
“Neither am I.”
“You’ll all get your pictures. I promise.” Holly turned on Travis. “Excuse me? What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t say, but it’s Travis. Travis Braddock.”
When her gaze sparked, he added, “I’m the groom’s brother.”
Her mind seemed to rifle for a memory before recognition dawned and she frowned. “The one who didn’t RSVP?”
“My job keeps me really busy.”
Too busy for your own brother’s wedding?
The question rang loud and clear in her thoughts and guilt niggled at him.
“We’re not very close.” He wasn’t sure why he told her. The words simply tumbled from his lips before he could stop them and he stiffened. “Listen, I don’t want to cause any trouble. I just wanted to say a few words to my brother.”
“He and Miranda are going to host a receiving line when they’re finished with pictures. I’m sure you can wish him well then. In the meantime, you should move on to the reception area.” Otherwise these seniors are going to kick your firm, tight, totally amazing buns all over this ranch and I’m going to let them.
Her thought echoed through his head and a strange sense of warmth stole through him. A grin tugged at his lips.
She motioned toward the massive tents set up just beyond the barn. “You can have something to drink and a bite to eat while you’re waiting.”
His groin tightened at the suggestion and his gaze shifted to her creamy white throat. He could see the faint pulse beneath her skin and his fangs tingled.
“There’s a full menu,” she continued. “Swedish meatballs. Pigs-in-a-blanket. Mini chimichangas. Southwest egg rolls. I’m sure you can find something you like.”
“I already have,” he said, staring deep into her eyes.
He expected to see passion flare in the blue depths, her lips to part, her body to lean toward his. Particularly since she thought his buns were firm and tight and totally amazing. That’s the way it always was when he focused his complete attention on a woman. She couldn’t help but fall under his spell.
Her eyes widened and then she blinked. Once. Twice. As if she couldn’t quite believe she’d heard him correctly. “What did you just say?”
“I said I already found something I like.” As anxious as he’d been to talk to Cody, he knew he wasn’t getting anywhere near his baby brother for the time being. Which meant he might as well slow down and kill a few minutes.
On top of that, he really was hungry. And it wasn’t a Swedish meatball or any of the other things she’d just rattled off he was craving. He’d been in such a hurry to get to Texas that he hadn’t even stopped to feed. “I like you, sugar.”
You.
Now he would see the flare of desire, the physical proof that she wanted him …
She stiffened and Travis knew in a glaring instant that she wasn’t going to fall all over him the way other women did. She was stronger than most. Determined. Different.
And damned if he didn’t like it.
2
WAIT A SECOND.
Wait just a cotton-pickin’ second.
Holly Simms shook her head and tried to clear the cobwebs from her brain. No way had she heard this cowboy say that he wanted her.
A real, balls-to-the-bull cowboy.
Her brain snagged on that all-important fact as she noted the worn tips of his black boots, the soft, molded jeans holding tight to his thighs, the smell of leather and fresh air that clung to him. She knew cowboys. She’d almost married one. But then her very own Mr. Tall, Dark & Irresistible had stood her up in front of God, the Skull Creek Cattleman’s Association and the entire Ladies Bingo club. The wedding had been called off and she’d been stuck with a six tier red velvet wedding cake to eat all by her lonesome.
She’d gained ten pounds thanks to her low-down sneaky rat of an ex-fiancé and learned a valuable lesson. Namely, that she was more cut out to plan a wedding than actually participate in one.
She’d spent the past three years as Skull Creek’s resident wedding planner. She’d orchestrated over one hundred ceremonies, overseeing everything from seating charts and bags of birdseed to sit down dinners and cages of live butterflies. She’d booked disc jockeys and ordered cakes and she’d even called in Marty and Serena, the 2010 Texas brisket cooking champions, to make an appearance at the Morgan reception last June. Marty and Serena had cooked all the food on-site over a live grill—much to the bride and groom’s delight—and handed out bottles of homemade Serena Sauce as wedding favors. The event had been a huge success and she’d even got a mention in the What’s Up Y’all? section of the Skull Creek Gazette. A huge coup that had doubled her business. Well, that and the fact that Eliza MacDonald, the eighty-eight-year-old owner of her only competition, From Courtin’ to Cuddlin', had needed a double hip replacement and been forced into retirement.
Holly had been busy ever since, giving the couples of Skull Creek the happily-ever-after she, herself, would never have.
Her great-aunt Tootie had tried to warn her.
The old woman had always said there were only two types of women in the world. The kind who were doomed to settle down, get married and have babies and the lucky few who were actually meant to avoid all three and have some real fun. Tootie’s definition of fun involved lots of wild parties, single cowboys and plenty of one-night stands.
The Simms women? They tended to fit into the second category. Aunt Tootie had avoided matrimony like the plague and spent her life sowing one wild oat after another. The few Simms women who tried to break with tradition and go the happily married route ended up divorced like Holly’s own mother (five times as a matter of fact) and her three aunts. Not one of Holly’s female relatives had ever had a long lasting relationship except Holly’s Aunt Celia, but that was with a pet poodle named Sassafrass.
Bottom line, Holly simply wasn’t the marrying kind. She had a pre-determined path. One that didn’t involve his and her monogrammed towels.
She knew that now. She’d accepted it. She’d even joined an online group of women committed to overcoming their addiction to falling in love. As a full-fledged Love Buster, Holly had given up her childhood dreams of wedded bliss and decided to focus on living out her most wild and wicked fantasies.
But that was a little hard to do all by her lonesome.
She was a wedding planner. Translation? She scared the bejesus out of every bachelor in town. They were convinced she only had marriage on her mind and so they all kept their distance. Since her moment of public humiliation at the altar, the only fun Holly had involved a case of batteries and a vibrator named Big Ben.
Which meant that no way had she heard this hunk of testosterone correctly.
She licked her lips and noticed the way his gaze followed the motion. Her stomach hollowed out and her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
“Would you, um, mind repeating what you just—” she started to ask, but Evan chose that moment to rattle over her headset.
“I hate to tell you this, but we’ve got a tiny little problemo with the PA system in the reception tent.”
Evan Valentine was her twenty-six-year-old protégé and a die-hard romantic. He’d come to her last year after a hand full of various temp jobs and a six month online course on how to be a party planner. He was young, creative and hopelessly in love with his high school sweetheart, a once-upon-a-time quarterback named Bob.
“I like—” the hunk of testosterone said, but he was drowned out when Evan jumped in. “I told you not to hire that DJ. Seriously, what sort of lunatic plays the Chicken Dance at a PETA event?”
“Could you excuse me for just a sec,” she held up a quick finger to Hot and Hunky before turning to blurt into her headset, “What are you talking about?”
“The disc jockey that yours truly told you not to hire is incompetent. His PA system doesn’t work. It’s completely dead and the natives are getting restless.”
“And that’s a tiny problem?”
“When you compare it to the fact that there are people starving in Third world countries, the ozone layer is slowly depleting and Bob’s parents refuse to include me in the family Christmas card. Not that I’m crying over it, mind you. I know that if I just hang in there, they’ll eventually see how hopelessly in love we are and welcome me into the family with open arms. Why, I bet they even ask me to pick the background for next year’s card …”
Evan went on about red versus green while Holly tried to calm the sudden pounding of her heart. She stiffened, determined to ignore the fingers of heat dancing up and down her spine. She could feel Mr. Testosterone behind her, his gaze on her back.
Watching.
Waiting.
Wanting.
She ditched the last thought, gave her hormones a quick shake and tried to concentrate. “Where’s the DJ now?”
“The last time I saw him he was running for the bathroom. He said he ate the enchilada special for lunch at the diner and now he’s regretting it.”
Her heart jumped into her throat and she swallowed it back down. Easy. Calm. She’d been down this path before. Unexpected situations were par for the course when it came to wedding planning. The key was to keep her head and think. “Get him an Alka Seltzer and meet me in the reception tent.”
“You think that’s going to help?”
“It can’t hurt.” She clicked the off button and turned back to face the megalicious cowboy standing behind her. She would talk to him, get everything straight and if he truly had said what she thought he’d said, then maybe …
The thought faded as she found herself staring at the empty spot where he’d been standing.
Her gaze swept the crowd, but he was nowhere to be seen. Proof beyond a doubt that her imagination had kicked into overdrive thanks to her deprived hormones.
I like you.
Yeah, sure.
She gave herself a great big mental shake, turned on her heel and went to find the MIA disc jockey.
“I’M SURPRISED YOU had the balls to show up,” Brent said as he shoved Travis up against the backside of the barn.
Travis blinked and stared at his younger brother. One minute he’d been admiring the very attractive rear end of Cody’s wedding planner, and the next, he’d been gripped by the collar and whisked away at preternatural speed by the vampire in front of him.
Green eyes so much like his own stared back at him. “Hello to you, too.”
The green shifted and Brent’s gaze fired a bright, vivid red. “If you’re here to start trouble, you can forget it. I’m not letting you screw this up for Cody. No arguing tonight.” The red flickered and anger sizzled in the air surrounding them. “I mean it.”
“Easy.” Travis held up his hands. “I’m not here to start anything. I just came to talk.”
“You really expect me to believe that?”
He didn’t. The last time he’d been face to face with his brothers, he’d blamed them for the massacre that had taken their family.
But he’d been wrong.
Travis eyed his brother. “Where’s Rose?”
Silence stretched between them for a long moment before Brent relaxed his grip just a little. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“Believe what you want.” He shrugged. “I don’t know jack about her. That’s Cody’s bomb to drop and he’ll drop it when he’s good and ready. And I can promise you it’s not right now. We’re in the middle of pictures, for Christ’s sake.” Agitation washed over him as the photographer’s voice echoed in the distance. His grip loosened. “Listen, if you want to talk, we’ll talk. But later.”
He wanted to argue, but then Brent disappeared as quickly as he’d first appeared, leaving Travis no choice but to bide his time until the photographer finished.
He straightened his shirt and started back around the barn. His attention shifted to the huge white tent that towered in the far distance before he chanced a glance at the spot where he’d last seen Holly Simms talking on her headset. She was nowhere in sight and damned if that didn’t bother him. Not that he expected her to hang around, waiting for him. She undoubtedly thought he’d ditched her on purpose.
A damned fine idea.
That’s what his head told him. There were too many women to choose from for him to set his sights on one who obviously didn’t have the time to get up close and personal. She was the wedding planner after all, and busy as all get out. He needed a guest to kill some time with. Or a bridesmaid. Someone who wouldn’t be missed for a few minutes.
Someone who would actually respond when he looked deep into her eyes and willed her to get naked.
The thought conjured a vision of long blond hair trailing down his bare chest. Feathering over his abs. Brushing his thighs. Swirling around his cock.
His stomach hollowed out and his mouth went dry. He picked up his stride, his boots kicking up dust as he headed for the tent and the bar that had been set up along one length. Sliding onto a bar stool, he ordered a beer and took a long swig. The golden liquid went down smooth, but it didn’t quench the thirst that yawned in the pit of his stomach.
The tent filled up quickly. The sound of laughter echoed around him. Glasses clinked as the bartenders shifted into action. The scent of vanilla candles wafted through the air, blending with the sugary-sweet smell of the stacked wedding cake that sat center stage on a nearby table.
Travis tried to focus on the women surrounding him. A tall brunette with a purple dress. A shapely redhead wearing a pink suit. A blonde in a hot, tight, red number with lips to match. There were plenty. All his for the taking.
All except for Holly Simms.
The thought struck and he signaled for another beer. She was just one woman, he reminded himself. A damned infuriating one at that since she didn’t seem susceptible to his vamp charisma. No falling into his arms or rubbing her soft curves up against him. Nothing. Just that crazy disbelief.
As if his thoughts had conjured her, she rushed around the bandstand toward the pale looking man who’d just taken his place behind a large mixing board. Static cracked open the steady chatter of guests and in a split-second, a slow, twangy Jason Aldean song spilled from the speakers.
Jason sang about big green tractors and taking a ride, and relief seeped into Holly’s expression. She actually smiled and his chest hitched. It was the damndest thing, considering his response was always centered below the belt when it came to women.
He took a swig of his drink and watched as she touched her headset and informed the person on the other end that the music was on and the dancing could commence. Disaster averted. Or so she thought until she got the news that the champagne was missing. Her smile faded in the blink of an eye and he had the sudden insane urge to cross the distance between them, haul her into his arms and do any and everything to bring the smile back to her beautiful face.
Her tight skirt pushed and pulled, hugging her shapely ass as she made a bee-line for the house. His groin tightened, throbbing to the point that a growl worked its way up his throat.
She was different, all right.
But not that different.
While he hadn’t wowed her with his vampness, he’d still read every thought that had flashed through her pretty blond head. He knew she was sexually frustrated and that she had a thing for cowboys, that she’d been hurt by one. She’d sworn off love and relationships, and had resigned herself to brief, meaningless, one-night stands.
Exactly what he needed at the moment.
Not an entire night, mind you. In the deprived state he was in, a good fifteen minutes would do him just fine. He was already this close to the edge. Pain twisted at his gut. His hands trembled. His throat tightened. His fangs tingled.
Travis downed the last of his drink, set the glass on the bar and went after Holly Simms.
“I heard the words echo inCAN’T BELIEVE they misplaced the Cristal,” she murmured into her headset as she entered the house through the back kitchen door and glanced frantically around the large room. Platters of food covered every available granite countertop. Boxes sat stacked against the walls and in front of the custom cherry cabinets, but not one had the familiar name she was looking for. “How do you lose ten cases of ultra expensive champagne?”
“I love Cristal,” Evan declared. “Bob ordered it on our first date. After dinner, we went up to Lucky’s Point and watched the sun set. Say, maybe someone snuck off with the champagne because he wants to propose to his girlfriend. Why, they could be sitting on the tailgate of a pickup truck as we speak, bottles in hand, watching the stars dance across the sky.”
“Are you on medication?”
“It’s called love, dearest. In case you’ve forgotten.”
If only.
But she remembered all too clearly the pounding heart, the rush of excitement and the pie-in-the-sky notions—
“The bartender said all ten cases were supposed to be delivered to the bar,” Evan cut in, effectively killing her spiral down memory lane. Thankfully. “I called the delivery service and they said someone in the kitchen signed for it.”
“Which means it has to be here somewhere.” Holly moved out into the massive hallway and headed for the walk-in pantry a few yards down.
The Braddock spread was one of the newest and biggest ranches in the area. The house itself was over nine thousand square feet with tons of closets and way too many places to stash several cases of the bride’s favorite beverage.
“Maybe it’s in the barn,” Evan offered.
“Who would move it all the way from the kitchen to the barn?”
“A loony tune who needed more room to craft her masterpieces.” Evan referred to Millicent Dupree, the one and only gourmet chef in Skull Creek, Texas. Millicent was temperamental, stubborn and very focused when it came to her work. “I asked her, but she told me she couldn’t listen because she was in her pigs-in-the-blanket zone. She also said if I bothered her again, she would come after me with a pair of cooking shears.”
“You check the barn,” Holly told him, “and I’ll look in the house.” She pushed open the door to the walk-in pantry area which rivaled the size of the small bedroom she’d grown up in. A ray of light pushed back the shadows and illuminated stacks of catering boxes, crates of fresh fruit and vegetables, and the empty white boxes that had carried all the petit fours and cheesecakes over from the bakery. Shadows hid the rest and she reached for the light switch.
She was just about to flip it on when she felt the presence directly behind her.
“I’ve been looking for you.” The deep, familiar voice slid into her ears and stirred every nerve in her body. And then a hard wall of muscle urged her forward, the door shut and she found herself standing in the darkness with Travis Braddock.
3
HE’D PROBABLY GOTTEN lost on the way to the men’s room.
No way was he in this closet with her on purpose. Because he wanted her and she wanted him and it was meant to be. Definitely a great, big, fat no.
That’s what she told herself but then he turned her around, his mouth descended on hers and just like that, he was kissing her, his lips covering hers, his tongue thrusting deep. Yes.
He tasted like cold beer and hot, decadent thoughts and the air stalled in her lungs.
Stop!
That’s what her head said.
Wrong time.
Wrong place.
Wrong man.
If only he hadn’t felt so right. Like a cold drink of water on a blistering hot summer day. She couldn’t help herself. She kissed him back and kept kissing him. Longer. Deeper. His hands were everywhere, trailing down her back, tugging up her skirt.
It was the best thing that had ever happened to Holly.
And the worst.
Not because it was exciting. Heaven knew she needed a little oomph in her life. A little wild, mindless sex with no second thoughts. But it was the worst because she was smack dab in the middle of a wedding reception for two hundred guests. And the champagne was missing. And Evan kept repeating as much over the headset every few seconds, in between humming the tune from “Unchained Melody.” And she was wearing a pair of heavy duty Spanx to keep her tummy flat and her thighs shapely. And it was just too friggin’ dark.
“Please tell me you found it,” Evan declared.
She managed to tear her lips away. “Not yet, she gasped, her lungs struggling for air, “but I’m getting warm.” Boy, was she ever.
A slow, chuckle rumbled over her lips and goose bumps chased up and down her arms.
Evan’s voice, along with the sound of music and laughter, faded into the sudden pounding of her heart as she became acutely aware of the man standing in front of her, surrounding her. His fingertips seemed to melt through her skirt and the dreaded Lycra smoothing her thighs.
Okay, so dark was good considering the last thing she wanted was for him to see her struggle out of her modern day version of a girdle. But the thing was, she couldn’t see him.
And despite all the extra baggage on her hips, she really wanted to see him. The broad shoulders and muscular arms rippling beneath her touch. The long, hard thighs braced on either side of her own. The prominent erection pressing just below her belly button.
She reached out a hand to her left to feel for the light switch, but he caught her wrist and pinned her arm above her head. He went stiff in the next instant and if she hadn’t known better, she might have thought he was purposely trying to keep her in the dark. But just when his grip grew a little too tight, he eased his hold and drew the palm of her hand to his lips.
His lips pressed against her palm. The kiss was soft, tender, loving and for a split-second, she actually forgot this was meaningless sex.
“Exactly how warm are you?” Evan’s voice pushed past the frantic staccato of her heart and yanked her back to reality and the fact that she was getting naked in a storage closet with a man she’d met less than five minutes ago.
Romeo and Juliet it wasn’t.
“I think it’s here somewhere—” she offered, but then strong hands plucked off the headset. A heartbeat later, it clattered to the floor.
“But I’m working—” Strong, sensual lips silenced the rest of her protest in a fierce, determined kiss that scrambled her common sense and drew her full and complete attention.
He tugged the blouse from her skirt. Long, determined fingers worked at the buttons until the silk parted. A flick and her bra clasp opened. The cups fell away. Thumbs rasped her nipples and her breath caught.
Before she had a chance to drag some much needed air into her lungs, he dipped his head and drew the aching tip deep into his mouth. He sucked her so hard that she felt the tug between her legs.
She shuddered as he slid his hot, wet mouth to her other nipple. He caught it with his teeth and flicked her with his tongue, over and over, making her squirm until he opened his lips and suckled her again.
Heat spiraled through her body and pleasure gripped her for several sweet, intoxicating moments before she felt the sharp prickling sensation on her sensitive skin. His teeth, she knew. But it felt different. Sharper.
Just as the thought struck, he pulled away. His mouth closed over hers, drawing her tongue deep. She thought she felt the same sharp sensation against her bottom lip, but then he plunged his own tongue deep and the floor seemed to tremble.
Desire welled up inside her and suddenly she couldn’t help herself. Since she couldn’t see him, she needed to feel him.
Now.
Frantic fingers grappled at his shirt, pulling and tugging until she found her way underneath. Soft, silky hair met her hands and she trembled. Muscles rippled beneath her palms as she trailed them over his chest and down to the waistband of his jeans.
She unbuttoned him with several fierce, frantic tugs. He sprang hot and huge into her hands and she stroked his length. Her fingers slid back and forth, tracing the bulging head, the hard, smooth shaft. She cupped his testicles and massaged them, and his arousal pulsated against her.
He reached for her skirt then, tugging it up and hooking her underwear. He pushed them down her legs until the lycra sagged around her ankles and she stepped free. He reached down, dragging a finger over her sex in a smooth, sweet rhythm that made her moan.
For a fierce moment, she thought she saw a flash of blue in the darkness, like twin laser beams aimed directly at her.
Eyes. His eyes. Staring back at her.
A red alert went off in her brain. His eyes were green. She’d seen them herself.
She blinked and the bursts of color faded into the nothingness that surrounded them.
Still, something wasn’t right.
She reached for the light again, but then he caught her hand and guided it around his neck. “We’re not finished yet, sugar. Hold on tight,” he murmured, his voice deep and raspy. And then he was inside of her and her thoughts scrambled as exquisite heat flooded her body.
He moved in and out in a fierce rhythm. Pleasure needled her brain with each thrust until she couldn’t take any more. She closed her eyes as her orgasm crashed over and consumed her entire body. Tremors racked her and her knees buckled. She went limp, but Travis was there, his strong arms around her, holding her as he plunged deep one last time.
He followed her over the edge, his body rigid. A growl rumbled in her ears and she saw the pinpoints of blue light again. Brighter this time. Fierce.
Gone.
She blinked, but there was nothing there. Just the consuming darkness and the tiniest sliver of light underneath the door that illuminated her discarded Spanx and the forgotten headset.
She became keenly aware of the noise and Evan’s frantic voice buzzing in the earpiece.
“I have to find the champagne,” she said, but Travis had already stepped back to give her some space.
Cool air washed over her and a strange sense of loneliness crept through her. It was an absurd reaction. She should be feeling anything but lonely. Relieved. Satisfied. Smug.
The sex was over. It was time to get back to work and forget all about this yummy cowboy.
No strings.
The thought stirred an expected rush of disappointment and she stiffened. Not that she wanted the past fifteen minutes to mean something. No sirree.
She’d been there, done that. Not once, but three times as a matter of fact. Each time she’d inched a little closer to wedded bliss. Allen had been her first serious boyfriend. They’d dated exclusively for six months, but he’d bailed before popping the question. Ben had been number two. They’d dated a year and a half and he’d gone so far as to give her an engagement ring. But then he’d asked for it back the next day so he could run off with a waitress from some truck stop. Chad had been number three. They’d dated for two years before he’d asked her to marry him. She’d spent the following year planning her dream wedding.
Third time’s a charm.
That’s what everyone had said, but in Holly’s case, the third had been the last and final piece of evidence that she just wasn’t the marrying kind. Chad had literally left her standing at the altar.
Which was why she’d joined Love Busters and decided to fall into lust instead of the big L.
Sex was easy. Fun. Satisfying.
Over.
Still … It had been awhile.
A long, long while.
No wonder her fingers tightened around the doorknob and she paused. Meaningless sex was hard to come by for Holly. It stood to reason that she wouldn’t want to turn her back on her sudden good fortune.
“We could try for round two if you’re game,” Travis’s stirring voice slid into her ears as if he’d read her thoughts. “But I think we might be doing it in front of an audience.”
She became aware of the distinct footsteps that grew louder with each moment that passed. A steady click of leather on tile that told her Evan and his new Feragamos had given up on the barn.
She bent down and snatched up the headset. “Meet me on the back patio,” she blurted. “Now.”
“Where have you been? I’ve been calling you forever!”
“I was busy going through all the boxes the caterer left on the back patio. Stop with the twenty questions and give me a hand.”
“But we found the champagne already. It’s being served up now. That’s what I was coming to tell you. I figured you had a malfunction on the headset and—”
“We have extra on the back patio,” she blurted. “Lots of extra. I’m practically drowning in the stuff. Help!” The footsteps turned abruptly and then a fading clatter signaled that Evan had bought the distraction and was heading to the opposite end of the house.
“Does that mean you’re staying?” Travis asked when the footsteps finally disappeared and Holly could actually breathe again.
“He’ll be looking for me again when he realizes I’m not on the patio.” She turned the knob.
“Wait.” Before she could pull open the door, he stepped up behind her and pressed her up against the wood.
She could hear his voice distinctly, his lips feathering over her ear. But there was no warm rush of breath against her temple. No heartbeat pounding against her shoulder blade.
He was there, yet he wasn’t there.
Just as the strange thought struck, he murmured “Thanks.” The knob seemed to turn beneath her fingers and suddenly the door was open and she was free.
She resisted the urge to turn and catch a glimpse of him standing in the shaft of light from the hallway. His hair mussed. His shirt hanging open. His pants still undone. His eyes still gleaming with passion—
She stiffened and ignored the image whispering through her head. Sure, it was a purely sexual image. But that was beside the point. If she turned around now, they would have sex again. And possibly again. And then before she knew it, she would be hopelessly in love. A repeat offender.
These boots were made for walking. She squared her shoulders, stepped forward and went to intercept Evan.
4
TRAVIS MANEUVERED HIS way through the crowd gathered on the front lawn just in time to see Cody follow his bride into the back of a black stretch limousine. It was barely nine-thirty, but there was no mistaking the birdseed in the air and the shouts of congratulations. The crowd waved goodbye and panic sucker-punched him smack dab in his gut.
“They had to cut the reception short to catch an early plane,” Brent’s deep voice sounded next to him just as the limo door closed, “otherwise they won’t make it to Colorado before sunrise. They’re going to Aspen for the honeymoon.”
Travis glanced at his brother. “You’re kidding me, right?” When Brent shook his head, he ran a hand over his face and damned himself a thousand times for following Holly Simms into that storage closet and wasting precious time. What the hell had he been thinking?
But then that was the point—he hadn’t been able to think. Not with the lust raging through his veins, the hunger gnawing at his gut. He should have stopped to feed before he left Wyoming, but he’d been in a hurry to catch his plane. He’d figured on holding out until after he talked to Cody.
But then he’d seen Holly—her soft lips and lush body and those sparkling, surprised eyes—and all his figuring had gone to hell in a hand basket. Now it was too late to talk to Cody. To find out the truth.
Like hell.
He shoved a hand into his pocket to retrieve his keys. “Which airport?”
“They’re flying out of San Antonio.”
“If I leave now, I can catch him before he boards the plane—” The words died as a vice grip tightened on his arm. His gaze swiveled to his brother and he saw the steely determination in his eyes.
“You’re not going after him,” Brent told him. “It’s his honeymoon, for Christ’s sake.”
“I just need five minutes. He’ll tell me what I need to know and that’ll be that.”
“No.” The grip tightened and Travis knew he wasn’t budging a step without a fight. “He’s not talking until Colton gets here and that won’t be until Saturday. Cody will be back Saturday night and we can all have a sit down.”
“That’s a week from tomorrow.”
“That’s the way it is. Rose was Colton’s wife. He should be the first to know.”
“We all have a right to know.”
“Damn straight we do, but not until Colton gets here and we’re all together.”
Which meant he was stuck here for the next seven days.
The truth sank in as he stood there, staring at the crowd that walked past him. People laughed and smiled as they headed back to the reception. While Cody and Miranda had cut the evening short, their guests weren’t inclined to do the same. The DJ had kicked up the music and the promise of a great party hung in the air.
Brent clapped him on the shoulder. “Seeing as how you’ve got a little time to kill, why don’t you come on back inside and have a drink.”
Travis shook his head, his mind still trying to wrap itself around the fact that he would be forced to hang out in Skull Creek if he wanted to find out Rose’s whereabouts.
And he was going to find her. He owed her and he intended to see that she got what was coming to her for destroying his family.
“It’s just seven days,” Brent added. “Think of it as a vacation.”
“I don’t take vacations.”
“Think of it as work then. I could use some help out at my place.” When Travis arched an eyebrow, he added, “Skull Creek’s not a bad place. The people are nice and there are even a few vampires to keep things interesting.” At Travis’s surprised look, Brent added, “Garrett Sawyer and his buddies own Skull Creek Choppers. They live just up the road from me.”
“Since when did you become the settling down type?”
The last Travis had heard, Brent had been making his fortune as one of the most sought-after guns-for-hire. He went from job to job, guarding the rich and famous and doing his damnedest to not get too attached to any one person or place.
“I’m tired of living out of a suitcase.” He gave Travis a pointed stare. “Aren’t you?”
“I like moving on. It keeps things much more interesting.”
“I can’t imagine anything more interesting than Abby, that’s for damned sure.”
“Abby?”
Brent glanced at a petite brunette who stood talking to a nearby group of women. As if she felt him, her head snapped up and their gazes locked. She smiled and a strange expression lit his brother’s eyes. “I bought a hundred acres just down the road from here. I’m going to try my hand at ranching.”
“How much does she know about you?”
“How much doesn’t she know? Abby is ex Special Forces. Nothing gets by her.” His attention shifted back to Travis. “Take you for instance. She knew you were a vampire the moment she saw you. She also knew you were my brother. She said we have the same eyes.”
“And the same fangs.”
Brent grinned. “There are some people who aren’t bothered by what we are. Abby’s one of them. So is Cody’s wife Miranda. Garrett’s business partners are both married to humans, too, though Garrett himself is with another vampire.”
“He’s smart. Meanwhile, you’re playing with fire.”
“Maybe, but I like the heat.” A wistful look twisted his features. “That’s the one thing I miss the most about being human. Being warm from the inside out. When I’m with Abby, I feel it again, bro. Deep inside my bones.” He must have noticed Travis’s get real expression because he added, “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. You don’t sit still long enough to meet anyone, let alone warm up to them.”
“I like moving.”
“That or you’re just so used to it you don’t know how to stop.”
“You buy a spread and suddenly you’re a shrink.”
Brent shook his head. “Just a rancher. Speaking of which, I’ve got three mustangs that might make damn fine cutting horses if I could ever get close enough to them.”
“And?”
“And since you’re sticking around for the next seven days, I thought you might help me out.”
“Horses don’t like vampires.”
“They like you,” Brent argued. When Travis cut him a glance, he added, “Ranchers talk. You’ve become a hot commodity.” When Travis shrugged, Brent added, “I could really use the help.”
But the less time Travis spent with Brent, the better. Already, he felt the strange pull he’d once felt with his brother. The camaraderie. The sense of family.
But his was gone. Rose had seen to that.
She’d destroyed them all and there was no rebuilding what was permanently damaged. They’d turned on each other and gone their separate ways, and that was okay.
It was better than okay.
Out of sight, out of mind.
That had been his motto all these years. He’d done his damnedest to forget his brothers and his life before. And he’d managed to do just that. Hell, it had been easy. The farther away he stayed, the less he thought about them. No doubts. No regret. No remorse.
Just the hunger.
Until Cody’s invitation.
His little brother had stirred it all up, reminding him of the man he’d been, of the injustice he’d dealt out and the fact that the real culprit had yet to be punished.
Travis knew now that he couldn’t forget again.
Not unless he spent the anger inside of him and dealt it out to the real murderer. Then he could move on again. He would move on. And forget.
His gaze shifted to the woman standing several feet away, herding people back to the reception tent. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright. A few tendrils of hair had come loose from her ponytail. His fingertips tingled and he had the crazy urge to cross the lawn, tug her hair loose and run his fingers through the long, blond silk.
He stiffened. He wasn’t here for sex, despite the past half hour. He was here for information.
For vengeance.
Just as soon as Cody returned and Colton arrived and the Braddock boys were back together once again.
“So what about it? You gonna help me out?”
Travis shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Does it matter?”
Brent looked as if he wanted to say something, but then thought better of it. “If you change your mind, my place is just a few miles north of here. I could use you.” And then he turned and headed toward the petite brunette.
She smiled and Brent smiled and for a split second, Travis had the crazy thought that his brother had found the real deal. One man. One woman. Love.
If there’d been such a thing.
But Travis knew better. There was no such thing for their kind. Sooner or later, the hunger would get the best of Brent and he’d grab the first woman that crossed his path.
That’s what had happened to Travis tonight. He’d gotten hungry. Holly had been handy. And bam, he’d satisfied that hunger in the storage closet.
He watched her gather up a group of seniors and steer them toward the dessert table, and the familiar pang hit him hard and fast. Hunger. Because he’d only partially fed.
He’d drank in her sweet energy, but for Travis it wasn’t enough. He’d grown accustomed to taking sex and blood. While most vamps leaned more toward one or the other, Travis was a fan of both. It made him feel more alive. More in control. More in touch with his senses. For a vamp who made his living by being in tune with each of the five senses, a double whammy was essential.
But he hadn’t bitten her.
He wasn’t sure why. He’d wanted to more badly than anything else. At the same time, he’d felt a moment’s hesitation, as if drinking her in would make it impossible to get rid of her. She’d be under his skin. In his head. His heart.
Crazy.
While drinking and having sex with the same woman often created a bond for most vampires, that wasn’t the case for Travis. He was too much of a hard-ass. That, and he kept moving. The distance weakened the connection until, eventually, it snapped altogether and there was nothing. He’d learned that early on with Amelia. She’d been his girl before he’d gone off to war and she’d been more than eager to rekindle the fire in the weeks after his return.
But the night of his return had changed him. He’d been hardened by the war and devastation at the ranch. Insatiable thanks to the beast that lived and breathed inside of him. The hunger had been all-consuming and he’d quickly learned that he could never go back to being just a man.
And one woman would never be nearly enough.
The hunger had driven him into the arms of another and Amelia had been devastated. Thanks to the sex and blood they’d shared, he’d been completely in tune to her feelings. He’d hurt the way she’d hurt. But then he’d left town and the farther he’d gotten from her, the less he’d felt her sorrow and angst. No hitch in his chest. No knife twisting his gut. No piercing white hot pain when she’d finally ended it all and pulled the trigger. Rather, the news of her death had caught up to him months later in the form of a letter from her parents.
We just thought you should know …
But he hadn’t known. Not even a clue. Because he hadn’t felt a thing. He was a vampire now and incapable of feeling anything other than lust.
He knew that. He’d accepted it.
Which is why he should have bitten Holly and gotten it over with. The attraction would have ended, and he wouldn’t be standing here at the entrance to the tent, as hot and horny as a cowpoke about to crawl into bed with his first saloon girl.
That was the only reason.
Damn straight it was.
And if he downed enough Jack Daniels over the next few hours, Travis might actually start to believe it.
IF TRAVIS BRADDOCK looked at her one more time, Holly was going to dunk her head under the nearest champagne fountain.
She forced her gaze from the man standing at the bar and busied herself replenishing the dessert table for the remaining guests. The newlyweds had departed, but the party was still in high gear. The band cranked out a lively Kenny Chesney tune and a sea of Stetsons bobbed across the dance floor. Waiters moved here and there, passing out glasses of the newly discovered champagne. The sweet smell of cake infused the air.
“Methinketh this is one more fabulous set of event pics for our Facebook page.” Evan’s voice sounded behind her. “I think the worst is over.”
She turned to see her assistant balancing a platter of chocolate covered cheesecakes. “Don’t count your chickens yet. The DJ doesn’t wrap up until midnight.”
“By then people will be too drunk to even notice if something goes wrong. As long as the champagne is flowing, everyone’s happy. You can lose the worried look.”
“I don’t look worried.”
“You look flushed, which means you’re in panic mode, which means you’re worried and headed straight for a Prozac prescription if you don’t lighten up. Girlfriend, you need to slow down and enjoy the moment. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Carpe diem and all that.”
If he only knew.
But he didn’t and she wasn’t about to broadcast to the world that she’d spent the last fifteen minutes seizing not only the day, but one ultra hot cowboy. Not that she cared if everyone knew that Holly Simms had had her first of many one-night stands. She would welcome a little notoriety. Maybe then available bachelors would stop treating her like she had some deadly disease.
At the same time, she was on the clock, and more than an active sex life, she valued a good work reputation.
“Take a load off and enjoy.” Evan handed her a plate of chocolate ganache cheesecake and a fork. “I’ll make sure the rest of the desserts get put out.” He handed her another piece of cake.
“What? One for each hip?”
He wiggled his eyebrows and stared past her. “That one’s for the hot cowboy checking you out at three o’clock.”
She chanced a glance at Travis. Her gaze met his and heat rippled through her body, from the soles of her feet, to the top of her head. Time pulled her back and suddenly she felt his strong arms around her, his hands on her back, his body pushing into hers.
The urge to grab his hand and haul him back into the storage closet hit her hard and fast. Her nipples tingled and her hands trembled and she stiffened.
Hello?
She had a mortgage to pay and a gluttonous St. Bernard to feed, and that meant controlling her impulses.
For now.
“I think he likes you. Why don’t you walk over and offer him a dessert. You’ll sit down and the two of you will stare longingly into each other’s eyes over bites of decadent cheesecake. One thing will lead to another and bam, I’m planning the event of the century and you’re playing the difficult bride.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/kimberly-raye/the-braddock-boys-travis/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.