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Authors: Rachael Anderson

Tags: #A Romantic Comedy

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BOOK: The Reluctant Bachelorette
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A confident person who actually wanted to be here might say
something like “Hey, let’s get this party started!” But Taycee felt anything
but confident, and what she wanted to do more than anything else was to turn
and bolt.

“Hey,” she finally said, with a pitiful wave of her hand.
Boring, yes. Lame, definitely. But there it was.

The bachelors moved forward, encircling her into a
claustrophobic cocoon.

“You finally made it,” someone said.

Another passed her a white lily he must have taken from one of
the arrangements. “I hear you like flowers.”

Still another pushed forward. “Since I was the first to
arrive, I get Taycee first.” Like she was a popular toy at a black Friday sale.

Within seconds, it was apparent that Taycee would never get to
know the guys this way. She laid a hand on the arm nearest to her and blurted,
“Want to dance?” then immediately regretted it. Why couldn’t she have said,
“Hey, see those two chairs over there in the corner? What do you say we go chat
for a few minutes?” or “Hey, why don’t we go scope out the refreshments?”
Instead, her dimwitted mind came up with the one thing that kept her front and
center, showing off her non-existent dancing skills.

Evidently she didn’t need Luke to goad her into saying or
doing something stupid. She managed to do that just fine on her own.

“Yes ma’am,” said Miles with his deep southern drawl. He
grinned, tipped his black cowboy hat that he wore, and then swept her into his
arms and started backing her around the room. Oh heavens. The two-step—a dance
several people had tried to teach her, but had failed miserably. Good thing she
was barefoot. Not only would her shoes have made her taller than Miles, but she
would probably be stepping on his toes a lot.

And she thought things had been awkward before.

“So, Miles, you’re in the rodeo circuit, right?” Taycee said
in an attempt to forget all the eyes looking their way.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Calf roping and bull riding are my
specialty. There’s nothin’ like the rush you get in that arena, I tell ya.”

Taycee would have to take his word for it on that one. The
only kind of rush she’d get from being thrown from a bull and then charged or gored
or trampled by a bull would be the heart-attack, brain aneurysm kind. “How did
you get into that?”

He shrugged. “It’s in my blood, I guess. My daddy was a bull
rider so it’s the only life I’ve known.” He leaned in closer and lowered his
voice. ”Between you and me, I can be a bit shy at times, but drop me somewhere
near a rodeo and I come out of my shell like a turtle itchin’ to sunbathe.”

Taycee laughed. “Then you’ll be happy to know that there will
be a couple of rodeos going on around here during the next month.”

“I know.” He winked. “Where do ya think we’re going for our
first date if I get the chance to take you out?”

Hmm . . . to the rodeo with Miles. Definitely not a bad
prospect. He didn’t spit when he talked, he made her laugh, and he was actually
a decent dance partner. All pluses. The fact that he didn’t goad her into
saying something she’d regret was just a bonus. Her gaze automatically drifted
to Luke, who now stood talking to another guy with his eyes trained on her. He
looked amused. As if her obvious discomfort was something to laugh about.

She returned her attention to Miles, with his cowboy hat and
boyish smile. Yeah, a date with him would be nice. Fun even.

“Here’s hoping you get that chance,” she said. “I’ve always
been a sucker for a guy in a cowboy hat.”

Miles chuckled and touched the rim of his hat. “Good to know
‘cause we’re pretty inseparable.”

Sterling, the spitter, appeared at Miles’s side and tapped him
on the shoulder. Then he asked to cut in.

Visions of getting drenched with spit filled Taycee’s mind, so
when Miles moved aside, Taycee said quickly, “Mind if we sit for a minute
instead? My feet could use a break.” Without waiting for an answer, she led him
to two chairs facing each other and sat as far back as she could.

Sterling leaned forward, closing the gap she’d created. “Som
you’re a flower girl?” He laughed like he’d just stated the funniest pun ever.

Taycee forced a smile to her lips even as spittle landed on
her hands. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“Well, if you ever need an accountant, I’m your guy.” More
spittle.

Taycee wedged herself deeper into her chair, folding her arms
snug against her body. Maybe that would help. Or at least confine it to her
dress rather than her bare skin. “I take it you’re a numbers person?”

Sterling nodded, adjusting his glasses. “Always have been,
always will be. In fact, back in high school . . .” Taycee tried not to cringe
as the shower of spit came her way. Where were the other bachelors? On the real
show, some guy was always cutting in, interrupting, or stealing away the
bachelorette. Why weren’t they doing that now?

A hand rested on her shoulder, and Taycee turned toward it,
ready to say yes to anything that was asked of her. She followed the hand up to
a handsome face with two blue eyes. Jake, the smooth-talker from California
who’d wanted to whisk her away for a drive.

“You don’t mind if I steal her for a dance, do you Sterling?” Jake
said.

“But we just sat down and her feet hurt,” Sterling spluttered.

As much as Taycee wanted to blurt out that she felt better
now, she kept her mouth shut. Still, her eyes pleaded with Jake to save her.
Do
something. Anything. Pretty please? With a hundred million cherries on top?

He didn’t disappoint. From his pocket he pulled out a deck of
cards. “Tell you what, Sylvie. We’re each going to draw a card from this stack.
Highest card wins.”

“Wins what?” Sterling stared at the cards in confusion.

“Taycee, of course.”

Oh. Nice. Taycee frowned at the deck. Surely Jake could have
thought of a less chancy way of saving her. Fifty-fifty weren’t her kind of odds.

“Uh . . .” Sterling hesitated. Evidently he didn’t like the
odds either.

“C’mon. Draw a card. You can do it,” Jake coaxed, fanning out
the deck.

With a roll of his eyes, Sterling snatched one from the deck.
“How do I know you’re not scamming me?” he asked, looking at the card.

“You don’t. That’s part of the fun.” Jake held the deck in
front of Taycee. “Would you mind picking my card?”

“Uh . . . sure.” Her fingers flitted across the top, finally
resting on one. Please be higher than Sterling’s. Please, please, please. With
a tug, she pulled it free and held it up. “The ten of spades.”

“I’ve got an eight of hearts.” Sterling tossed the card at Jake
and stood. “Looks like you win.”

“You’re a good sport, Sylvie.” Jake slapped him on the back
before shrugging out of his jacket and taking the empty seat across from
Taycee.

“Do you always carry a deck of cards in your pocket?” Taycee
said.

Jake’s eyebrow rose. “What, not even a thanks for saving you?”

A red light glowed in her peripheral vision, reminding Taycee
that whatever she said could be broadcasted over the internet in a few days’
time. No need for all the viewers to know how she really felt about Sterling’s
salivary glands. “Saving me from what? Resting?”

A knowing smile played across Jake’s tanned face, but he let
the subject drop. He leaned forward, still holding the cards. “So, what’s it
going to be? 52-Card Pickup or a dance with me?”

Hmm . . . dancing or cards. Tough choice. Not. “How about
this: If you can beat me in a game of Speed, I’ll dance with you. If not, we
stay here and talk.”

A smile spread across his face. “All right. You’re on.” He
pulled a small table closer, and then dealt the cards. Some of the other
bachelors gathered around to watch as Taycee picked up her cards with
confidence. This was her game—a game she never lost. She was saved from having
to dance again.

They started playing, and within minutes, she slapped her last
card on the table. “I won!” she called as cheers and clapping broke out around
her.

“Hustler,” Jake accused.

“Hey, a bet’s a bet. You’re not going to be a sore loser, are
you?”

Murmurs broke out around Taycee, and a bachelor named Greg
stepped forward. Tall and thin, he wore a wrinkled button-down shirt. “Move
over, Jake,” Greg said. “Give the rest of us a chance to win that dance.”

And that’s how it began. A game of Speed for a chance to win a
dance with Taycee. With a contented smile, she settled into her out-of-the way
seat and won game after game after game. Time started to fly. Granted, she
wasn’t getting to know the bachelors as well as she could of if she’d danced
with them, but no matter. For the first time all day, Taycee was able to relax
and enjoy the night. If a bachelor had a problem with it or didn’t like cards,
and then he wasn’t a good fit for her anyway.

Taycee smiled in satisfaction as yet another bachelor vacated
the seat in front of her. It was probably time to put an end to this game, but
she wasn’t quite ready—not when giving back the cards meant a return of the
awkwardness. So she picked up the deck and shuffled the cards as another
bachelor sank down opposite her.

When she glanced up, a few cards flew out of her hand. Luke
smiled at her with a gleam in those confident brown eyes of his.

“Think you can beat me, too?” he said.

“Easy.” Her fingers shook as she fumbled with the cards. Luke
had been the one to teach her the game. There was a time they’d played it
often—mostly because Taycee was determined to beat him at least once. So she
kept trying and trying and trying, but she’d never won. Not once.

Crap.

Luke hunched forward, and Taycee’s eyes were drawn to the
curve of his shoulders. What would it fill like to bury her face right there,
just below his collar bone? To have his arms surround her, pulling her in and
keeping her close as they swayed to the slow song now coming through the
speakers?

It would feel good. Too good. It would make her feel things,
want things, wish for things that would never happen.

She
had
to win this game because dancing with Luke
would be a very bad idea.

Taycee took her time dealing the cards. It was ridiculous that
Luke could upset her equanimity so easily. Here she was, in a room full of
handsome guys that most girls would give anything to go out with. Who cared
about Luke?

Not her.

No way.

Never.

“Go,” said Luke.

No, no, no. She wasn’t ready.

In what seemed like seconds, Luke’s pile was gone, leaving her
with three cards still in her hand. A wicked smile stretched across his face as
he stood and held out his hand. “Looks like I won. Care to dance, Taycee
Lynne?”

Of all the things he could have remembered about her, that
nickname was the worst. Two words and she was like a puppy, lapping it up and
drooling for more. But she didn’t want to be like a puppy. She wanted to be
strong. Confident. The kind of girl who was in complete ownership of her mind
and her heart.

Nervous anticipation rippled through her body as she placed
her hand in his. With a gentle tug, he pulled her to her feet and took her in
his arms. His hand settled on her waist while another clasped her hand. He
smelled clean with a hint of aftershave. She felt warm and good and scared all
at once. Everything about him intoxicated her. His eyes, his smile, all the
pent up memories she had of him.

Memories. Only memories.

Taycee gazed over his shoulder, avoiding those eyes that
seemed to see right through her. Why did he have this effect on her? Why did
she
let
him have this effect on her?

“Looks like you’re having fun,” said Luke, his breath hot on
her ear.

“I
am
having fun.”

“Even though you’re stuck dancing with me right now?”

Taycee made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Those
gorgeous, beautiful eyes that reeled her in like a fish that’d happily swallow
any hook for a chance to be caught by him. “I was hoping you’d gotten rusty at
Speed.”

A moment of confusion gave way to a knowing smile. “That’s
right. We used to play that game all the time, didn’t we?”

Pathetic, that’s what Taycee was. Completely pathetic. Why?
Because Speed had become one of her favorite games
because
of him. And
he didn’t even remember.

“You look good tonight,” said Luke.

“Thanks.” Okay, so maybe that redeemed him a tad. A millimeter
at most.

“I still can’t get over the fact that you’re all grown up now.
It’s so . . . weird.”

And like Humpty Dumpty, down he went again. It would never
change, would it? No matter what, Luke would always think of her as Caleb’s
little sister. The nuisance. The girl who liked flowers and curly fries. The
girl he could beat in cards.

The spicy smell of his cologne invaded her senses once again.

Please, someone save me.

“How do you feel about sharing, Luke?” asked Jake. “I think
I’ve earned a dance.”

Taycee resisted the urge to throw her arms around Jake. This
was twice now he’d come to her rescue, which proved that he was exactly the
sort of person she should be paying attention to. And she would. Starting right
now.

Luke relinquished his hold on Taycee, and she stepped into Jake’s
arms. Though not as tall as Luke, Jake was still tall. In fact, he was a good
fit. His arms were warm and toned. His gait smooth. “So . . . you’re a
California boy,” Taycee said. “Does that mean you surf?”

“Nope.”

“Beach volleyball?”

“Occasionally.”

“Red convertible?”

“Never.”

Taycee smiled. “Well, you’re tan at least.”

He laughed. “That’s debatable, but I do like the outdoors.”

“Me too.” She also liked Jake. Not only was he handsome and
charming, but he was comfortable and helped Taycee forget about everything
else. The staring eyes. The cameras. The red lights. Luke.

BOOK: The Reluctant Bachelorette
5.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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