Two Nights with His Bride (2 page)

“Nancylynn.” His mouth quirked as if to say
This must be my unlucky day.

“It’s Nancy now,” she corrected without thinking.

The tightening of his jaw was the only sign he heard. He looked her up and down, probably cataloging the changes just as she was doing with him. Time had shrunk her memory
of him, relegating him to a dark, distant corner of her mind she could choose to visit or ignore, depending on her mood and how much wine she’d drunk. Flesh-and-blood Wyatt exploded that memory out of her brain—and probably more than a few eggs from her ovaries.

He was a big, tough-looking guy. Always had been, even as a kid. Six years older than her, he’d loomed large in her life for as long
as she could remember. She’d grown up on his family’s ranch—the very ranch she’d ended up buying and giving to her parents when his dad lost it in a foreclosure.

He’d been a tough kid to like. When he’d been little more than a toddler, his family had fallen apart in ways that would’ve seemed like a plot line on
Sultry Suburbs
. By the time Nancy had been born, he’d been angry. Sullen. Uncontrollable.
But for some reason, Nancy had adopted him the way a bird might adopt a crocodile. She’d flitted around him, always taking care to avoid his jaws in case he decided he’d had enough of her chirping. He’d even occasionally deigned to give her rides on his shoulders. Maybe she’d been attracted to danger or maybe to his strength. Either way, he’d suffered her presence until the summer she was
fifteen and she’d dared to get too close. Then he’d snapped.

His jaw was hard and his gaze even harder as he stared down at the pageant sash the girls had draped across her breasts. “Bunny?”

She glanced down at herself. The pink sash had Jared’s nickname for her written in gold script. As if that weren’t bad enough, she wore a furry white crop-top bra and hot pants. Dread settled low in her
gut as she reached behind herself and felt her butt.

A tail. That’s what she’d been sitting on. A freaking fluffy bunny tail.

She spun around and focused on her friends. “
What
is going on?”

“Surprise!” they shouted.

“You said you wanted to get away from everything for a weekend.” Polly thrust her arms out wide and spun around as if she were auditioning for
The Sound of Music
. “You can’t get
any more away than this!”

She glanced around. They stood on the edge of a parking lot that held probably a billion cars. Right next to them was the entrance to a massive store that looked like a log cabin on steroids. A manicured creek ran between it and the parking lot, which explained the burble of water she’d heard when they arrived. The glass doors had
Wilder Montana Adventures
painted on
them. A car slowed and tooted as it passed her, and a guy leaned out of the window so he could snap a photo with his phone.

Her mouth gaped open in disbelief. “
This
is your idea of
away
? I sent you links to spas, resorts and hot springs. Did I really need to spell it out?”

The girls blinked, as if they couldn’t believe she was upset. “But,” Ruby said, “you used to talk about this all the time.
It was the thing you missed most about home, you said.”

Her stomach twisted painfully, the way it always did when she thought of home. “What are you talking about?”

Polly stepped up next to her and put her arm around her waist. “All this wedding planning’s been stressful, and we know we haven’t exactly made it easy on you. So we wanted to do something really special.”

“And then it came to us,”
Ruby said. “The first few months we lived together, you used to talk a lot about growing up on the ranch and riding horses and sleeping under the stars. Fishing. Camping. Rafting. All the things you can’t do in L.A.”

“Not without finding a body—or ending up one yourself.”

“You missed Montana so much, and we knew you probably wouldn’t have time to enjoy it now unless we made time. So that’s what
we’re doing. We’re going rafting and camping and making sure you have time to escape everything for two days.” Ruby grinned at Wyatt. “And two nights.”

Her eyes stung, and her throat swelled. “You guys. That’s…that’s so sweet.”

She meant it. Mostly. But Wyatt’s unamused gaze bored through the back of her head and invaded her thoughts. Keeping her hand in front of her chest, where he hopefully
couldn’t see it, she jerked her thumb in his direction. “And, um…?”

“Isn’t he hot?” Polly gushed.

A noise of disbelief split the air behind her. “Standing right here.”

“I know.” Polly twirled her finger in a lock of her hair and gave him a suggestive grin. “Believe me, I’m looking at you.”

Ruby winked at Nancy. “He’s our guide. We saw his picture on the website and made a special request.
Why? Do you guys know each other?”

“Sort of.” She tried to keep the cringe from her voice but failed.

Polly’s brows shot up, and she leaned closer. “Do you, like,
know
each other?”

“Not in the biblical sense.” Although they would’ve, if she’d had her way. Thank God Wyatt had been humiliatingly uninterested in her, or this little reunion would be torture instead of merely excruciating.

“Good.
Then there’s no problem with him being our guide, right?”

Just the minor inconvenience that Jared would flip if he found out. Not that he had any reason to distrust her loyalty, since she would never even consider cheating on him. But…well, he could be a little possessive at times.

She swallowed hard and avoided the question, knowing her friends wouldn’t be sympathetic if she tried to explain
it to them. “Why the bunny outfit?”

Ruby shrugged. “It’s still a bachelorette weekend. Had to do something to make it feel like one.”

“Right. Well, thanks for that.” Heat burned up her nearly naked back all the way up to the fine hairs on her neck. She cleared her throat. “I’m assuming you guys brought me some real clothes.”

“She did,” they said simultaneously, then gasped and pointed accusing
fingers at each other. “No, you did. No,
you
did.”

“You’re freaking
kidding
me.”

Footsteps crunched behind her, and she peeked over her shoulder to see Wyatt striding toward the store. He yanked open the door and disappeared inside for a couple of minutes. When he came back, his hands were full of clothes that still had the tags on. He thrust them at her. “Consider these a wedding gift, on the
condition you put them on right this damn second.”

“Why? Worried about my dignity?”

“Nope. Worried you’ll land me on the local news for all the wrong reasons.”

Of course he was worried about himself. Habit took over, and she started to push the bunny panties down, but Wyatt cursed and grabbed her arm. “Changing rooms are inside. Use them.
Please
.”

“Sorry, I forgot what an upstanding citizen
you are.” She held her hand out to Ruby. “My phone?”

Ruby dug in her bag and was about to give it to her but pulled it back out of Nancy’s reach at the last second. “Who are you going to call?”

“Bridesmaid Busters if you don’t hand it over.”

Ruby reluctantly gave it to her. “Not you-know-who.”

“Obviously. This is
our
weekend, and I’ve been looking forward to it for a long time. It’s going
to be awesome.” She shot a glance at Wyatt, who stared at her as if he’d been carved from stone. Unable to resist getting in a parting shot, she told her friends, “It’s just too bad you couldn’t hire his brother Austin. Then we’d have real man-candy on the trip.”

With that, she strode away, trying to hold onto as much pride as she could, even as the bunny tail bounced with every step she took.

For weeks, the thought of coming face-to-face with Wyatt Wilder had left her stomach so upset she’d barely been able to touch food. Her soon-to-be mother-in-law had dismissed her lack of appetite as pre-wedding jitters, but Nancy knew the truth. From the moment Jared had agreed to get married in her small hometown, she’d realized she would have to face some haunting memories.

And Wyatt featured
in most of them.

She yanked open the door of Wilder Montana Adventures and stepped into the store but came to a halt when she saw the size of it. It was
huge
—even bigger than it looked from the outside, and that was saying something. The ceiling was two-stories high and partly made of glass, so rays of sunlight made her feel as if she were still outside. A stream cut through the middle of the
store, and a pathway wound around it with rustic, hand-painted signs pointing the way to different sections. Camping. Fishing. Hunting. Shoes. Hiking. Water sports. Tour sign-ups. Kids’ play area.

At the back of the store, stretching all the way up to the ceiling, stood a circular fish tank filled with vibrantly colored tropical fish. Near the front of the store, honest-to-God trees grew in a
thicket, and the gentle sound of birds chirping welcomed her. She couldn’t tell if the chirping came from real birds or a recording.

Holy cow. His obvious success went some way in easing her guilt over buying his family’s ranch.

“Can I help you find anything, ma’am?”

Nancy instinctively pasted a grin on her face and turned to face the splotchy-faced teenager wearing a red plaid shirt with the
store’s logo on it. “Hi. Yes, I hope you can. I’m looking for the dressing rooms.”

The teen blinked. “You’re—um… I mean, uh, sure. I’ll take you to them.”

Nancy pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. After ten years of living in L.A., she still felt thrilled at being recognized. Growing up, she’d been recognized for her clothes more than for who she was. She regularly heard shouts of,
“Why’s that girl wearing my old dress, Mama?” as she walked through town. Being noticed for her work rather than for being a charity case would never get old—especially in Marietta.

When she got to the dressing room, she stripped off the bunny costume without sparing herself a glance in the mirror. She really,
really
didn’t want to know how she looked in it. Wyatt had given her a one-piece bathing
suit, shorts, hiking pants, jeans, a few shirts, a fleece and a floppy cap with his company’s logo on it. Judging by the prices on the tags, the collection might be one of the most expensive wedding gifts she got.

“Must be doing well for himself,” she muttered.

When she had the bathing suit and some clothes on, she sat on the dressing room bench, pulled her phone from her bag, and texted her
assistant, Faye.
Help! Need a bra and underwear.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.
Let me guess…Brides­maidzillas struck again?

She tapped furiously.
They mean well.

But they’re idiots
, Faye replied.
Okay, I’ve got your coordinates. Stay there. I’ll be with you in ten.

Great
, she texted.
Bring my sunglasses—and a couple days of clothes for yourself, too. You’re coming rafting with us.

Hell to the no. You don’t pay me enough to spend two days with Dee and Dum.

Nancy let her phone rest on her lap as she contemplated bribes.
When we’re on our honeymoon, you can stay at our house and pretend it’s yours.

Her phone stayed silent for a while, and Nancy worried her bribe hadn’t been enough. But then Faye wrote,
Can I have women over?

All the women you can handle
, Nancy replied.

That’s a lot of women. Done deal. See you soon.

Good, challenge numbers one and two accomplished. She sent a quick message to Jared.
You might not be able to get hold of me the next two days. Apparently my bachelorette weekend is camping and rafting, and I doubt there will be cell coverage. Good luck with the shoot today! Love you.

She dropped her phone back onto her lap. Now to face Wyatt again.

Drawing in an unsteady breath, she closed her eyes, slowly exhaled, and went through her routine for getting into character. Like Verity, the character she’d played on
Sultry Suburbs
for the past five years, this one had become second nature to her—except this was the character she played in real life.

You are Nancy Parsons. Confident. Accomplished. Loved by millions.

You are not Nancylynn Pruitt.
Struggling. Hungry. Friendless.

She opened her eyes and straightened her shoulders. She could do this. She
had
to do this.

The security of her future depended on it.

*

Wyatt stared at
the door Nancylynn had disappeared through several minutes earlier, his brain exploding with images he didn’t want to see.

Bunny costume. I’m a dead man.

It wasn’t
that Wyatt had a weird bunny fetish. He didn’t even have a Nancylynn fetish—not one that he’d ever realized, anyway. Hell, she’d been fifteen to his twenty-one the last time he’d seen her in the flesh.

But now…shit. When he closed his eyes, her flesh was about all he could see. And she sure as hell wasn’t fifteen anymore.

She was still inside changing into clothes that would save his sanity,
but the sight of her was so vivid she might as well have been standing in front of him. When she had angled away from him to mediate an argument between the two women who’d hired him for the weekend—using fake names, apparently, since he recognized them now—his stupid gaze had instinctively dropped to check out her ass.