The Ford F-150 bounced into the air. Tools crashed as the bed of the truck slammed back to earth. Gavin gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He was going to keep this mother on the road or die trying. It was a matter of pride. Looking like an idiot in front of his wife, even his fake wife, sucked. Another big bump and Scarlett braced her hand on the roof of the cab to keep from smacking her head. Damn it.

“Slow down, Gavin. You’re going to bust the axle.”

“Luanne flew down this drive in a doll-sized convertible. How’d she manage it?” He clutched the wheel even tighter and took his foot off the accelerator. The last thing he needed was to break his father-in-law’s truck.

“She knows this drive like the back of her hand. Stay toward the shoulder, and you should be fine.”

“Got it.”

“Oh, dear Lord,” she gasped.

Her panicked intake of air pissed him off. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“No. Look.” She pointed to the end of the drive. “There have to be fifty reporters.”

The sight of the shutterbugs and media made him want to cuss. Once upon a time, he couldn’t take a piss without a mob of paparazzi trying to get a shot of it. He didn’t want to bring that crap to this family’s doorstep. No one deserved to have their privacy violated in such an aggressive way, especially not a family like the Kellys.

Another sharp intake of air came from the passenger side of the vehicle. He’d managed to avoid any more potholes, so he understood that sound. He glanced at her. She was chewing on her lower lip, and it wouldn’t be long until she gnawed right through it.

“Don’t be nervous.” He spoke to her like she might cut and run. “Let me do the talking, and it will be over before you know it.” He eased off the gas and let the truck roll to a stop. She nodded, still riveted to the group at the gate. At least the lip gnawing had stopped.

“Most of the questions will probably center on what happened in Vegas. I’ll try to steer them away from that topic, but I doubt it will do any good.”

As she sucked her swollen lip back between her teeth, the color drained from her face.

He took her sweaty hand and squeezed. “I’ve got this, Scarlett. Jack and I came up with a plausible story. We’ll tell them we met at the beginning of the week in a hotel elevator. It was love at first sight, blah, blah, blah. By Friday, we couldn’t live without each other.”

She shot him a look that clearly stated he and Jack were delusional. “I know, it’s not great, but it sounds better than we met in a bar, got drunk, and got married. Don’t you think?”

She bowed her head. “Yes.”

“Scarlett, look at me.” Her cornflower eyes brimmed with tears. “We screwed up. Both of us. We can’t change that. All we can do is try to walk away with as much dignity as we can.”

“Okay.”

The truck stopped about fifteen feet from the gate. “If you do have to answer a question, don’t panic. Bat those baby blues and turn on your backwoods charm.” He studied her for a minute. “Can you do a little Daisy Duke thing? Flip your hair. Put some extra ass-shake in your step?” He tapped the steering wheel as the idea took root. He eyed her conservative peasant top with the drawstring neck. “Loosen the tie on your shirt and let it fall off one shoulder. They won’t care what you say if you flash some skin.” He emphasized his point with a waggle of his brows.

“Maybe we should go back to the house so I can put on my push-up bra, halter top and denim panties?” She crossed her arms like she was suiting up for battle.

She could cross her arms all she wanted, but it was too late for him. The image of her dressed like that scorched his mind. It was hot. He might burn to ash right there in the cab of the truck.

A push-up bra and denim panties?

Damn.

Double damn.

He drew in a ragged wheeze. It was more difficult than it should be to get the correct amount of air in his system. His brain short-circuited. He didn’t even know what denim panties were, but he was wholeheartedly on board with the idea.

Cameras flashed through the windshield. The reporters’ squawking was muted, but he could still hear their questions. He needed to get his head out of her panties and onto the circling sharks waiting to eat them alive.

She spoke to him through gritted teeth and a fake smile. “I will not act like some slutty country bumpkin so we can get out of this mess. That is not how I walk away with my dignity. I hope you have another plan because that one’s shitty.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Look what you made me do. After only a few hours, I’m as foulmouthed as you are.”

He rested one hand on the wheel, and the other stretched along the back of her seat. He laughed. This chick was a hell of a ride. “You’ve got a temper don’t you, Red?” He toyed with a loose curl. “Fine, be yourself. But only answer the questions they ask. Don’t elaborate. And for the record, you’ve got a long way to go before you’re as foulmouthed as me.” He chucked her under the chin. “But keep practicing. You’ll get there.”

She gave him a dirty look disguised as an adoring smile.

The minute he exited the truck the ravenous crowd went crazy.

* * *

Zings of excitement pinged through Scarlett’s body. Not Yay, we’re going on a cruise excited. More like I’m about to do something naughty excited. Totally inappropriate, but she raised her face to the sun and savored the sensations pulsing through her bloodstream.

Gavin gave her a strange look. “Are you alright?”

“Never better.” She laughed. If she was the star of this circus, she might as well enjoy it.

“Okay. Here we go. Remember, I’m right beside you.” They made their way toward the reporters.

“Gavin, introduce us to your wife!”

“This way Scarlett and Gavin, give us a smile.”

“Scarlett, is it true you’re pregnant? Was it a shotgun wedding?”

“Congratulations, you two.”

“Why’d you run, Scarlett?”

Her bravado failed her when they stopped in front of the crowd. She fought the urge to hide behind Gavin. Instead, she smiled like this was an everyday occurrence. The questions flew at her like mosquitoes on a summer evening.

Gavin whistled loud and shrill. “Quiet down.” Scarlett was stunned when they all obeyed. Wow. You Tarzan. Me Jane. Oh gosh, she was losing it.

“We’ll take a few questions.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She welcomed his strong arm and warm man scent. He pointed to a guy in a camo vest and a safari hat. “You first.”

“How does it feel to be married, Gav?”

“Great, couldn’t be happier.” He drew her closer. She leaned into him willingly.

“Scarlett, how do you feel about all of this?” shouted a short man with a bad comb-over. Then again, was there ever a good comb-over?

“Sort of overwhelmed, but very happy.” Her arm slid around Gavin’s waist. She held onto his shirt for dear life.

A woman with a high bun and white sunglasses yelled, “Tell us how you two met. How long have you known each other?”

“We met last Saturday night in Vegas. We caught an elevator together.” He kissed her temple, and tingles exploded from the top of her head down the length of her body. He pointed to a young guy with his baseball cap on backwards. “You’re—”

“So basically, you knew each other seven days before you got married?” The woman in the sunglasses interrupted. “You don’t think that’s kind of fast? Sounds like the same old Gavin, reckless as ever. The Delinquent, in all his glory.” All the other reporters laughed.

The muscles in Gavin’s back went rigid. Scarlett knew calling him reckless was the worst thing the woman could do. The calculating gleam in the reporter’s eye let Scarlett know she’d done it on purpose. Hot and raw anger blazed through her. How about some common courtesy?

She peeked up at her husband’s handsome face. He’d pulled on his bulletproof rocker mask. The only tell of his distress was a muscle pulsing in his jaw. She got it then. Unreliable and unpredictable, that’s how these people saw him. How they would portray him in their rags and TV shows. This was why he’d offered to pay her to stay married. It didn’t matter that her acceptance of the money had nothing to do with his problem. He’d paid for her help. She owed him, didn’t she?

Her heart rate kicked up while her hands poured sweat. They were maligning him, and she couldn’t sit back and let it happen. Unfortunately, there’d be a price to pay. If she redeemed his reputation, she’d put another nail in her own. But right was right, and it wasn’t in her nature to let someone suffer if she could help.

Well, crap. Luanne always said she cared too much about what other people thought.

Well, Luanne, I’m about to make you very happy.

“No. I—”

“Babe,” Scarlett cut in. “If you don’t mind I’d like to answer this one.” She stepped in front of him to shield her husband from the sharks. “I’m the reason we got married so quickly. Gavin wanted to take some time to make sure we were doing the right thing and to involve our family and friends. But…well…I just couldn’t wait.” She gave Gavin a quick smile over her shoulder. He responded by wrapping both of his arms around her waist and pulling her back to his body.

His body was a live wire sending currents of electricity all the way to her toes. Even her bones buzzed. She rested her arms on top of his, gripping him for support. “When you meet the right person you know it. We knew we were meant to be together the moment those elevator doors closed. Isn’t that right, Gavin?” She turned in his arms to look directly into his eyes.

Big mistake.

His gaze cast a sensual net, snaring her. She was willing prey, and her words didn’t feel like a lie.

He smiled down at her. “That’s right, doll.”

“If anyone’s reckless it’s me, not Gavin.”

That, for sure, was a piece of truth.

The reporters hung on every word. She looked back at them and grinned. “Who can blame me? Look at him.” Their audience snickered. “He’s talented, charismatic and gorgeous. I’m a very lucky woman.”

She should step away from him, but she couldn’t. It felt too good to be wrapped in his arms. “Do you have anything to add, sweetie?” Her heart faltered. The fire blazing in his gray gaze told her he was as affected by their contact.

“Um…” For a moment he stared at her like he’d forgotten what they were talking about. “No.” His voice was like rough sex on satin sheets.

This man lit all her fuses, and he did it with a blow torch. Without her permission, her arms snaked around his neck. A small smile lifted her lips when he moaned at their contact, belly to belly. Rising to the balls of her feet, she sucked on his full bottom lip.

Surprise at her actions registered somewhere in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t resist. Didn’t want to.

He crushed her to him as his lips parted and he took control. She opened to him. He licked into her mouth. Her knees buckled, but he caught her, tightening his hold around her waist. She moaned and fought the urge to crawl up his body.

The flash of cameras was like a lightning storm, the shout of the photographers a distant thunder. Lost in the sensual kiss, she barely noticed either one.

* * *

A blow to the head would have been less disorienting than the feel of Scarlett’s soft tongue moving against Gavin’s body. The sweet invasion jumbled his senses. He couldn’t pull her close enough or kiss her hard enough to satisfy his hunger.

She moaned deep in her throat, and when she did, every kiss, every touch, every carnal moment from their night in Vegas came rushing back to him. The memories originated in his brain, but like wild geese fleeing winter, they quickly migrated south.

He’d attributed the passion of that night to the liquor. But standing there, stone-cold sober in the Texas sun, with a mosquito buzzing by his ear, and a trace of manure floating on the breeze, he knew it was more than alcohol. So much more. It was bone deep attraction. Desire and need. There was something else, too. He grasped for the word, but it escaped him.

He reluctantly pulled back from the kiss and looked at Scarlett’s swollen lips and flushed cheeks. Desire swirled around them, and she blinked up at him. Neither spoke. They barely breathed. Soft as a feather, she traced her fingers down his face.

His hands were headed down to the promised land of her ass when someone shouted a question. He had to rein it in. Having sex in public had to be as bad as a quickie marriage to a virtual stranger. Right?

Clearing his throat, he stepped back, but only far enough to turn her to face their audience. He kept his arm around her, not ready to let her go. “Alright guys, that’s it, thanks for your good wishes.”

Disorientation and a raging hard-on made him move slowly. Had a kiss ever felt like that? Not just no, but hell no.

It was amazing. Terrifying.

He didn’t know if he wanted to lay her on the ground and finish what they’d started, or jump in Floyd’s truck and drive as fast as he could away from Texas.

Thankfully, he got them back to the vehicle. They didn’t speak or look at each other.

When he slid behind the wheel, Scarlet scooted across the seat and settled herself next to him. She leaned into him and gave the reporters one last wave. He turned the truck around and headed back to the house. Even though a part of him wanted to bolt, he couldn’t help himself. He slid his hand over to her thigh and rested it on her warm, sweet flesh. She felt so damn good.

“Ohmygosh.” Her small hands squeezed his arm. “That was unbelievable.”

“Yeah.” How had this prissy woman knocked him on his ass with one kiss, and made him chase halfway across the country to get to her? He was a rocker, for Christ’s sake. Women were a dime a dozen. And they chased him, not the other way around.

“It was insane, petrifying, thrilling, and every other word you could put an exclamation mark after.” She fanned her face. “I thought I would faint dead away. I can’t believe people have to deal with that every day.”

What? I’m about to crash and burn over here and she’s all worked up over the reporters?

“It can be pretty bad,” His half-hearted response made her look at him.

“Are you alright?” He could feel her studying him. “You’re mad because I answered that last question. I should have let you handle it. But I thought it would be better for me to defend you, rather than you defend yourself.”

“Yeah. Good thinking.” No. He wasn’t alright. He was pissed. Performing for the crowd had her flustered. Not that incredible kiss.

“Well, what’s the matter?”

He ran his hand across his mouth, trying to wipe away the taste and feel of her. Like that was possible. A snarl of emotions surged through him. This chick had him so tied up in knots, he couldn’t think, which put him at a disadvantage.

He only knew one way to level the playing field—attack. “The next time we have to kiss, don’t stick your tongue down my throat. You getting off isn’t part of this deal.” He was a dick. So what else was new?

Scarlett recoiled as if she’d been slapped. “Oh…okay.” She looked like a whipped puppy as she slid back to the passenger side of the truck.

His anger calmed his libido, but it didn’t improve his driving. He cringed when he hit another pothole. He braced himself for his wife to bitch at him, but she mutely stared out the window.

His conscience twitched. Interesting. He didn’t know he still had one. As a welcome back gift to his scruples, he made a small concession. “Listen, Scarlett, I’m tired, and this whole situation has made me jumpy as hell. You’re going to have to forget I said that.”

* * *

Embarrassment and indignation swirled around Scarlett’s brain like water circling a drain. That had been the best kiss of her whole life.

Not good. Not even great.

Fireworks on the Fourth of July, spectacular.

The kind of kiss that leads to ripped clothes, pulled hair, and hickeys in indiscreet places. But she didn’t have any of those things. No. All she had was a gaping hole in her pride and a massive bruise on her heart.

She was the queen of fools. Seriously, if there were an idiot parade she’d be riding on the float. Scooching as far away from him as possible, she wrapped her arms around her middle and stared out the window. What was his problem? She hadn’t pinned him down and forced him to kiss her. He’d participated too.

It takes two to tango, bucko.

As apologies went, that one stunk. So what if he was tired and jumpy? That didn’t give him the right to speak to her that way. It wasn’t like she was at her best, either. Though, unlike him, she’d remained civil. She’d given him iced tea for cryin’ out loud. A tiny voice whispered that she’d given him her mouth, her tongue, and her body too. But she shut that hussy up in a hurry.

She desperately searched for her happy place but only found new and inventive ways to maim him. Maybe she and Honey could get adjoining prison cells. Because there was a very good chance she was going to kill Gavin Bain in his sleep.