I DON’T BOTHER leaving my room until I’m dressed and showered for the morning, still feeling a bit ridiculous after last night. To be fair, I didn’t exactly put myself out there in order to really consider Leo’s goodnight as any sort of rejection. But in my head—that crazy place where I somehow convinced myself that I’d totally go there with him—we were playing a game of sorts. Though, perhaps my lack of experience in terms of how to have a fling had me misinterpreting everything I thought was happening. Regardless, right or wrong, game on or no game at all, I feel embarrassed about the prospect of running into him before coffee.
Corie calls me shortly after I’ve blow dried my hair, inviting me over for coffee and cupcakes. I jump at the offer, relieved for the chance to get out of the house. Except, when I venture out of my room, Leo’s door is open—but his bedroom is empty. As I make my way into the common area, spotting neither Frank nor Leo, I find it rather odd, and I wonder where they could be. Stepping outside, I see the golf cart is still parked just beyond the porch. Not sure whether or not it would be rude to take it, I opt to walk up to the main house, instead.
I try to enjoy the scenery, shrouded in the morning sun, and the feel of the warm Tennessee breeze against my skin. Where I’m from, at this time of morning, the summer air is still cool. Except, try as I might to focus on the details of this place, I wonder where Leo snuck off to this morning. As I casually stroll along the little, worn, dirt path, I try and wrap my head around the reality that maybe I really did make up all the signs I thought he might have left me. It’s too bad, really. It felt nice, thinking that what I was feeling wasn’t one sided. It’s been a while since a guy has shown any interest. Dillon can’t exactly boast of men the likes of him.
By the time I’ve reached the house, I’ve convinced myself to let it go and simply enjoy whatever the day has for me. While Corie and I are indulging in her promised coffee and cupcakes, we’re interrupted by a couple of surprise guests. Ashley answers the door, Corie and I peeking through the opening between the kitchen and the entryway as he greets his mother and sister.
“Oh, my gosh—I get to meet the notorious Deb and Mel,” I cheer, clapping my hands in excitement.
Corie laughs at me, knowing how much I’ve been looking forward to this. Not only are these women about to be Corie’s family, but they’re the ones who convinced her to have somewhat of a traditional wedding, instead of eloping. I sort of get why Corie would want that, but I probably still would have killed her. This way, I don’t have to.
“Come on,” I insist, standing from my stool behind the kitchen island. “Introduce me.”
I hold my hand out, waiting for hers, and she grabs hold of me before taking me to the door.
“There she is,” says Deb. One look at her—with her blonde-gray hair and blue eyes—and I know Ashley must get his dark hair and hazel eyes from his dad’s side of the family. “It’s so good to see you, dear,” she coos, pulling Corie in for a hug. Melanie takes her turn greeting Corie next, and then all attention is on me.
“You are just pretty as a doll!” Melanie cries, eyeing me up and down.
“Oh, thanks.” I cough out a tiny laugh, feeling slightly bashful that she would say such a thing—especially considering how gorgeous she is. It’s quite obvious that Ashley didn’t get all of the beauty—he was kind enough to share. Her dark hair is a few shades lighter than her brother’s, and her brilliant green eyes are stunning.
“We’re gonna have fun shoppin’ with this one,” says Deb, winking at Corie before she walks toward me with open arms. “Nice to meet you, darlin’, I’m Deb.”
I return her embrace, loving her southern hospitality, and reply, “I’m Jill.”
“I’m Mel,” Melanie says as she takes her turn, wrapping me in a friendly hug. “And our first mission of the day is to find you a dress for this weddin’.”
“It is?” I ask, glancing from Mel to Deb to Corie and back again.
“Yes, ma’am. Tell her, Corie. When a Hicks woman wants to go shoppin’, she won’t be swayed.”
I look to Corie and she shrugs, smiling as she says, “We should call Frank. Looks like we’re going out for the day.”
WE SPEND MOST of the morning hopping from one store to another. After I find the perfect dress for Corie and Ashley’s nuptials—a Bardot, navy floral, off shoulder, pencil dress that I love—a dress Corie refused to let me pay for—Mel and Deb have something special planned for the bride-to-be. We end up spending a couple of hours at a lingerie boutique, stocking up Corie’s marital underwear collection, and it’s a blast.
We shop until we can’t go another minute without food, and then find our way to a nearby restaurant to refuel. Frank opts to sit up at the bar, where there’s some baseball game on the television. If I wasn’t having so much fun, I’d feel bad for the guy. I know Corie feels more comfortable being out and about with him around, though. I’m just glad he has someplace to chill and be a man while we dine. It’s nice, hanging out with my best friend while simultaneously getting to know a little bit more about the family she’ll be marrying into. What Corie and Ashley have is a bit of a whirlwind romance, but today has offered me a chance to see that Corie really is where she belongs—in more ways than one—and I couldn’t be happier for her.
With plans for a holiday/birthday cookout at the Hicks residence on Tuesday, our last stop is the grocery store. Corie tries to tell Deb not to go out of her way and cater to her on her birthday, in addition to her usual Fourth of July traditions, but one glance from Deb is all the permission I need to make sure Corie gets enough to be spoiled rotten on her special day.
It’s after five by the time we get back to Ashley’s house. As we’re climbing out of Deb’s SUV, calling out our farewells, Melanie hops out, too. “This isn’t the last you’ll be seeing me today,” she tells Corie, thrusting a bag at her.
“Oh-kay,” she mutters suspiciously. Cautiously taking hold of the handles, she adds it to her collection of shopping spoils. “What does that mean? Why are you looking at me like that? And what’s in the bag?”
Melanie giggles before she says, “All you need to know is that you and Jill should be ready to leave at seven, and you are to wear what’s in the bag.” Turning to hop back into the front passenger seat, she calls out, “You’re welcome! See y’all there.”
“That girl sure is full of surprises,” says Frank, folding his arms across his chest as we all watch them drive away.
“You’re telling me,” Corie mumbles.
“Well, come on! Let’s go inside,” I insist, turning toward the house. “I want to see what’s inside the bag!”
LAST NIGHT, RIDING back to the guest house, that woman almost did me in. I knew we weren’t in any danger of spotting anything other than maybe a raccoon, but sensing her unease—feeling her body as she inched closer and closer to me—my will power almost shattered. Keeping people safe is my job. More than that, it’s who I am. It’s why I got into the business of protecting people in the first place. When people are around me, I want them to feel safe.
When Jill is around me, I want her to feel safe.
That is precisely the reason why I had to put as much space between us as was physically possible last night. My instinct to protect her is stronger than it should be. And what’s worse? It’s a double-edged sword. I know I should protect her from myself—that she’s the kind of woman I’d damage. However, there’s more to my sudden sense of responsibility then her emotional well-being. She’s a little thing, sure, but that’s not what spurs me on, either. It’s deeper than that. Feels like a goddamn mating call—it’s primal, it’s possessive.
It’s fucking nonsense, is what it is.
Not wishing to see what first thing in the morning looks like on her, I make sure I’m out of the house as soon as I hear her start to stir. I run around the property for nearly two hours, clocking a slow speed of four miles an hour. When Ashley sends me a text, informing me that the girls are getting ready to go for the day, only then do I jog back to the house for a shower.
Even though Ashley doesn’t plan on being in public places today, he invites me to join him and his dad for a drive down to check out his latest property purchase. Needing the distraction, I opt to tag along. We spend a good chunk of the afternoon exploring his new lot. It’s an amazing investment. Private, quiet, beautiful, and the perfect gift for his bride.
It isn’t until we are on our way back that he informs me of this evening’s plans. His sister, Melanie, organized a joint bachelor/bachelorette party for him and Corie. He tells me it won’t be a big deal, and the only people who will be in attendance are our group of five, along with Mel and her boyfriend. But it’s at Wildhorse Saloon—one of the most popular spots in town. I know this means that I’ll have to be on duty. What I don’t take into account is Jill.
Upon returning from our afternoon away, I walk back to the house for a shower. As I’m getting dressed, I hear Jill close herself in her room to get ready for our evening. With an hour to kill, I go out into the living room and flip on the television. Frank joins me shortly after. We sit together while we wait for Jill to join us, at which point we plan to go meet up with Corie and Ashley.
When she finally makes an appearance, announcing that she’s ready to leave, I take one look at her and know I’m fucked.
She’s got on a pair of holey, white jean shorts, showing off about every inch of leg she’s got. The navy top she has on is loose, the sleeves long, but with the shoulders cut out, making the top look more like a thinly strapped tank top—the V-shaped neckline dipping low. In a pair of flat, strappy, gladiator looking sandals, she’s done nothing to boost her height, making her that much more fucking endearing; and she’s curled her long, ashy blonde hair, so it falls in waves down her chest and back.
I can’t look at her for the duration of our short drive up to the main house. Now, as I stand in Ashley’s living room, listening to him tell me that he wants me to keep an eye on Jill tonight, I wonder what in God’s name I’ve done to deserve this. He’s not wrong. Someone needs to look after that gorgeous ass. She’s not from around here, and I’m guessing Dillon, Colorado can’t boast of a venue with a crowd the likes of which we’ll see at the Saloon.
As if I needed one more reason to be an overprotective dick tonight.
I’m so fucked.
STEPPING OUT OF the truck to join the others, I note how packed the parking lot is. I don’t know whether to be relieved at the prospect of Ashley having the chance at being lost in the crowd, or worried about how many fuckers in the venue will get a hard-on at the sight of Jill.
Ashley claps a hand on my shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts as he informs me, “Mel’s already here. She said to meet her up on the third floor.”
I dip my chin in a nod of acknowledgement before leading the group inside, content to have Jill at my back. For the time being, I’ll take any reprieve I can get. Sitting next to her in the truck, her sexy as fuck bare legs right next to mine, it had me more preoccupied than I’d like to admit.
As soon as we’re inside of the establishment, I can feel the buzz of the collective energy that fills this place. People are everywhere—milling about, dancing, and eating. There’s a live band in the middle of their set on stage. The structure of the building—with a hollow center surrounded by balconies on the second and third floor—allows the show to be enjoyed from any level.
Melanie and Scottie spot us almost as soon as we make our way into the vacated space reserved for tonight’s festivities. She’s quick to hop down from her barstool, her thick ponytail bouncing right along with her as she skips toward us.
“Hey! Y’all made it,” she cries, Scottie trailing behind her. Grinning at Corie, she goes on to say, “And you—damn, honey! You look good.” We all watch as she throws her arms around the bewildered bride-to-be before she exclaims, “Welcome to your bachelorette party.”
“Really?” Corie murmurs when Mel pulls away.
“Yup. Well, it’s a joint party—for you and Ashley. I know, bachelor and bachelorette parties are known for bein’ ostentatious, but I also know you two have a hard time keepin’ a low profile, so I thought I’d try to work somethin’ out. It’ll just be us tonight, but we can still turn it up.” Spreading her arms out, she signals as she explains, “The entire floor is ours. We’ve got our own bartender and everythin’. Dinner’s ready for us to dig in, and then there’s line dancin’ lessons at eight thirty. But if you want to hang out up here for a bit and have a few drinks, we can do that, too—there’ll be more line dancin’ lessons at ten. Then again at eleven-thirty,” she says with a knowing grin. “And if you haven’t caught my drift, y’all are line dancin’ tonight, one way or another.”
My focus shifts away from Corie when I hear Jill giggle in excitement.
“I don’t know what to say,” breathes Corie.
“Tell me you’re all in, girl—‘cause we’re gonna have some fun tonight.”
“She is. She totally is,” Jill pipes in, bumping her hip against her cousin’s.
Returning Jill’s hip-check with one of her own, Corie agrees, “Yeah. I’m in.”
“Yes!” Melanie cheers. “Let’s eat, y’all.”
I’M RELIEVED WHEN Melanie insists that she needs a break from the dance floor. Corie and Ashley abandoned the main level a while ago. Frank escorted them upstairs, leaving me to deal with my ward—who makes adorable look sexier than it ever has before.
Jill—with that sweet smile and those big, blue eyes of hers—is bad enough. Jill—under the influence of a few drinks and sweaty from spending half the night on the dance floor—she’s enough to make me come unglued.
Upon returning to our private section, I’m asked to join Ashley and Corie for a round of shuffleboard. I’m quick to accept the challenge, needing the distraction. I haven’t played in years, but I win anyhow. Then again, I have a bit of an advantage, seeing as it’s Corie’s first go of it, and the alcohol coursing through her body has begun to take affect. I’m getting ready to suggest another round when the sound of Jill’s voice stops me.
“The last line dancing lesson is over. Let’s go back down!” she insists.
I stifle a groan when Melanie agrees right away, downing the remains of her drink before taking hold of Scottie’s t-shirt. “C’mon, handsome. Let’s go cut a rug.”
Jill’s face lights up in excitement before she whirls around, her long hair falling down her back as she hurries toward the stairs. I ignore my suddenly tight jeans and follow after her. It isn’t until we’re on the dance floor that I realize Corie, Ashley, and Frank stayed behind. I don’t bother thinking about why it took me so long to notice, simply content that I don’t have to worry about Ashley while I’m trying to keep up with Jill.
Unlike before, when we stuck to the back, Melanie tugs Jill and Scottie into the thick of it. I don’t hesitate to join them, my reluctance to dance long since forgotten. Line dancing isn’t hard, so long as you have rhythm, which I do; it’s proximity that is my current struggle. My only saving grace is that the current dance has me flanking Jill, not touching her. But the rules of the dance floor are not restricted to line dancing. When Melanie and Jill decide they want to freestyle, it isn’t long before they have an audience. Melanie has Scottie, who is more than happy to make it known that she is taken, but that leaves only me for Jill.
I watch her for a minute, mesmerized by the sight of her. I was right. She’s got that small town charm that has her dancing to the beat of her own drum. She’s content all on her own, allowing her body to move to the beat of the country jams that fill the entire club. For both of our sakes, I prefer to leave her alone—but at the sign of her first predator, I take her hand and pull her into my arms.
Massive fuck-up.
Her muscles lock up at first, her eyes wide as she peers up at me. Breathless, she mutters, “Wha—what are you doing?”
“What’s it look like?”
When I make it clear that if she wants to stay out here, she’s going to do it with me, she begins to relax.
An hour later, we haven’t let go of each other.
Between the two of us, I’m certainly not the only one with a bit of rhythm—and she uses her whole body when she finds her groove. I’m not convinced that her provocativeness is intentional, but it has me hard, regardless. The longer she sways her little hips in my hands, the weaker my resolve to stay away from her. When Corie comes up to us and says she’s ready to head home, I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
It isn’t until we step outside that I realize I have no fucking clue how the night ended for Ashley. He’s too intoxicated to drive, as is Corie, and they both look to be in good spirits. I can only assume any further attention brought on by a spotting announced to the patrons was low-key and handled by Frank. With not a drop of alcohol in my system, Ashley knows to toss me the keys. We all climb into the cab of his truck—Ashley, Corie, and Frank in the back, and Jill with me in the front passenger seat.
The whole ride home, I convince myself that I won’t touch her. Not anymore. Not ever again. The hint of her body that I now know, it was for a purpose—business, not pleasure. I will my dick to let my brain rule and reign, and I don’t even chance a glance in her direction the whole drive back.