Two Nights with His Bride (5 page)

Shit. She’d noticed. He forced himself to stand up. “I’ll go see how the others are doing.”

She nodded, her face tense. “Good idea.”

‡

“Almost every girl falls in love with the wrong man. I suppose it’s part of growing up.”

—Natalie Wood

T
hree hours later,
they reached the area where Wyatt planned for them to camp overnight, and he guided the raft toward the sloping riverbank. When they got to shallow water, he leaped over the side, grabbed hold of
the raft and pulled it to the shore. “Everyone out.”

The women jumped into the water and helped him push the raft onto the muddy bank. He tied it to a tree so it wouldn’t float away, and the others climbed out of the river.

“What’s next?” Faye asked, rubbing her hands together as if she couldn’t wait to be assigned a task.

“We cook dinner and eat it.”

“Oh, thank God!” Polly pressed her palms
against her flat stomach. “I’m starving.”

He led them through the trees to a clearing he liked bringing his groups to. It was only about a quarter mile from a service road, so it was easy for his staff to drive to and set up camp. Plus, it had easy access to the river so they could collect water, and the ground was flat. Trees and wildflowers blanketed the forest floor around the clearing, making
it feel even more secluded and peaceful. Mother Nature had gifted Paradise Valley with dozens of vibrant colors, especially at this time of year.

It was also the only clearing big enough for the yurt he’d bought five years ago, when he’d backpacked through Mongolia. The huge, circular tent was a traditional home for nomadic families there, but he used it when customers requested a luxury camping
experience. And now here it was, all set up and ready to give Nancy a taste of the childhood adventures she’d never really had.

She was right next to him when they reached the clearing, but she stopped with a gasp when she saw the yurt and its magical surroundings. “Oh, wow. Oh, Wyatt. This is…
wow.
”

For some reason, tendrils of pride unfurled inside him at the admiration in her voice. “You like
it?”

“Like it? It’s…it’s amazing. When did you do this?”

“A couple of my staff members set it up earlier today and then made themselves scarce. Want to take a look inside?”

She walked in front of him, her gait a little stiff.

“Are you in pain?”

“Sore,” she said over her shoulder. “I never use the rowing machine at the gym, so I think my back and arms will kill me tomorrow. It’s all good,
though. I’m loving it.”

“Glad to hear that.” He really was. Not that he intended to ask for an endorsement, but if she went online and said she’d had a miserable time, he’d have a hell of a time clawing back his store’s reputation. More than that, though, he wanted her to have a good time. Hearing her friends’ revelation that she’d made up stories about a happy childhood had hit him like a punch
to the gut. The loneliness that had radiated from her as a child came back to him full force. As a kid, he’d been too selfish to know what to do about it. As a man, he had several ideas but, since she was engaged, the only one he could act on was to make this weekend as memorable and special as possible for her to wipe away her painful past.

When they reached the yurt, he pulled open the entrance
flap and let her walk in ahead of him. She gasped again, and he tried to hide his grin. His team had done an amazing job. Battery-powered fairy lights decorated the canvas ceiling in long strands meeting in the center. On the floor, burgundy and gold overstuffed pillows were scattered around a short, round table. Bear-proof canisters and an ice chest filled with food had been stacked next to
the table so he could cook and serve the women a three-course dinner. Around the edges of the yurt were thick pallets covered with sleeping bags and pillows. All the camping with none of the discomfort.

“Oh my God. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, since you live in the land of make-believe.”

She gave him a funny look before blinking it away and doing a slow
three-sixty spin to take it all in as Faye, Polly and Ruby clattered in behind them. “Holy shit,” Ruby said. “How lush is this! It’s like being in a pasha’s naughty palace.”

Nancy’s hand covered her mouth, her brows drawing together as she told her friends, “This isn’t how I pictured my bachelorette party. It’s a million times better. Thanks, you guys.”

“Group hug!” Polly grabbed Ruby’s arm
and the two of them practically smothered Nancy. “Come on, Wyatt and Faye! You have to join us.”

He and Faye shared a not-on-your-life look. “Sorry. I gotta get the campfire started.”

“And I don’t do group hugs.” Faye collapsed onto the cushions and rooted around in a food bag. “Is there any alcohol in here?”

“Should be some red wine in one of those bags and some white in the ice chest.” Knowing
it was a bachelorette party, he’d also asked his team to pack a bottle of champagne.

He took the food and cooking gear outside, where he found a pile of firewood and kindling. He dug a hole for the fire pit and got to work cooking braised beef and summer veggies in a Dutch oven. Then he lit a small camping grill and tossed on it five ears of corn, all smeared with chili-lime butter and covered
in their own husks. Nancy came out of the yurt and sat on a fallen log behind him, watching him work. He didn’t say anything, didn’t want to unbalance the fragile peace they seemed to have found when he complimented her earlier. His mom had always told him he would catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Not really understanding why he would want to keep flies around, he’d retorted that flyswatters
worked best of all.

And didn’t that just sum up most of his problems growing up? He’d been a wrecking ball.

“That smells amazing,” Nancy said.

“When your friends booked this trip, they said you like red meat, so I’m making braised beef. Hope that’s all right.”

“More than all right. Just don’t try to give me any bread.”

He rolled his eyes and shot her a look over his shoulder. “You’re not
one of those no-carb girls, are you?”

“Afraid so.” She shrugged with an apologetic grin.

“Well, you’re going to have to get over that because we’re having s’mores for dessert.”

“I can make an exception for s’mores. Especially considering the workout I got today.”

Polly came out of the yurt wearing nothing but a towel, and Wyatt re-focused his attention on cooking.

“Hey, Mountain Man? Where
are the showers?”

“About thirty miles away.” He poked at the fire. Not that it needed to be poked. He just needed to poke something.

“Oh. Um…is there somewhere I can take a bath?”

“Did you notice that big river we rafted down today?”

“Yes. And did
you
notice how freaking cold the water was?”

“Yes. But that’s it as far as baths go.” Done poking the fire, he picked up some tongs and checked
the corn.

“What about a hot spring?”

“Closest one I know of is about two miles downriver, and you have to swim to get to it.”

“Well, crap,” she said. “I guess I’ll have to brave the cold. Want to rinse my hair for me?”

“Nope. And you can’t use soap or shampoo in the river, either. They pollute it.”

Polly gasped “Are you kidding me? What am I supposed to wash with, then?”

“Your hand.”

Her
voice held a Cheshire-cat grin. “What about
your
hand?”

Before he could answer, Nancy bit out, “For God’s sake, Polly, leave the poor man alone.”

“Why? He likes it. Don’t you, Mountain Man?”

Not really.

“Believe me, he doesn’t. Wyatt likes demure women who don’t throw themselves at men. You know, good girls.”

Wyatt stilled with tongs in his hand, halfway through turning the corn. And there
it was, the memory of the last time they’d seen each other. His jaw tightened and he forced himself not to say anything.

“That’s a shame,” Polly said. “If you decide you want someone more exciting, let me know. I’ll be in the yurt, trying not to reek.”

When he heard the flap close, he turned to Nancy. “You really think that was a fair comment?”

Her brows shot up. “Fair? I was just trying to
get her to back off so you have some peace. You didn’t seem interested in her attentions, but if I misread the situation—”

“You didn’t. I’m not interested.” He stood, noting how her body tensed up as he loomed over her. Lowering himself to sit next to her on the log with his knees spread wide, he said quietly, “For the record, my interests have nothing to do with whether girls are good or bad—whatever
the hell that means. And I think it’s time we address this. I know I hurt your feelings that day, and I’m sorry about that. Deeply sorry. But here’s something you need to know about me. The only time I’ve been interested in fifteen-year-olds was when I was fifteen myself. By the time I was twenty-one, teenagers didn’t do anything for me. You were too young, Nancy. Way too young for me, and
I did the right thing by saying no. If I could go back, I would change the
way
I did it, but not the fact that I did.”

Her cheeks flushed, and her cheeks caved in as if she were biting down on the insides. “I understand. And…I actually appreciate that. Thank you for not taking advantage of me that day. You’re right—now that I’m older, I can see how you did the honorable thing, even if the things
you said really hurt. Thank you for apologizing for saying those things, too.”

“I didn’t apologize.”

“No, but it was implied. And when I replay this conversation in my mind for years to come, it’ll become more of a grovel.” She gave him a tentative smile, and it made something flip over inside him.

Taken.

He moved away, going back to the fire and his cooking—because he wasn’t stupid. He recognized
the feelings brewing behind his ribs. He recognized the tightening of his groin and the wave of heat low in his belly.

And he also recognized the ring on her finger and the commitment she’d made to someone else.

After a moment or two, she went back into the yurt, and he heard the women laughing together. They went quiet for a while, probably resting after spending a day in the sun. They emerged
around the time he finished up the cooking, and they ate like they’d never been fed in their entire lives. Not only did they polish off the beef and veggies, but they also nearly emptied his bag of marshmallows and at least two bottles of wine.

The food and booze seemed to work its magic on Nancy. The campfire crackled and sent light dancing over her face as she leaned back and propped herself
on her elbows. A relaxed smile tipped her lips, and Wyatt let himself admire her. For the first time all day, she looked free of the tension that had held her body captive. She wore the fleece he’d given her, and her chest moved with deep, slow breaths as she stared into the fire with a dreamy expression.

Polly rummaged through a bag and pulled out a small book. “Who wants to play a game?” Before
Wyatt could excuse himself, she continued. “That was a trick question. Everyone has to play.”

“Play what?” Faye asked, her eyelids narrowing.

“A drinking game.”

Faye relaxed in obvious relief. “Oh, hell yes. Bring it.”

“Good. Here are the rules. I have this booklet of truths and dares, and we’ll take turns randomly choosing a question to ask. If you choose not to answer it, you either have
to do the dare listed on the opposite page or do two shots. Got it?”

Oh shit. He was very afraid he did get it. He was going to end up alone in the forest with sloppy-drunk women. At one time in his life, that would’ve sounded great. Now was not that time. He opened his mouth—

“No, you may not be excused. Everyone got their shot glass?”

Nancy took one and handed the last one to him. When she
wriggled her brows, he held the glass up so he could see the design in the firelight.

A dick. It had a pink dick painted on it. He’d have to find an ecologically friendly way of losing it before anyone he knew saw it.

“Okay, first question is to Nancy.” Polly cracked the book open. “If you could have a threesome with any two people in the group, who would it be?”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s
the dare?”

“If I tell you, you have to do it or do two shots.”

Nancy sighed. “I can’t answer that question.”

“Why not?” Ruby asked. “Obviously I’d be one, but who’s the other?”

Polly actually looked offended. “You? Why you?”

“Because look at me. Now look at you. Question answered.” Ruby turned back to Nancy. “So who else?”

“Give me the dare.”

“Seriously? You can’t name one other person
in the group you’d want to do?”

Tension radiated off Nancy, and Wyatt snapped, “She asked for the dare.”

“Rawr.” Polly made her hand into a claw and swiped it in his direction. “Fine.” She glanced at the book, and a grin spread across her face. “Poetic justice. You have to choose someone in the group to give an intimate kiss on the mouth.”