One Wedding, Two Brides by Heidi Betts

One Wedding, Two Brides by Heidi Betts

Author:Heidi Betts [Betts, Heidi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Entangled, Amara, wedding, bride, cowboy, revenge, fake wedding, fake relationship, ranch, rancher, rancher's wife, opposites attract, City Girl
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2018-06-28T04:00:00+00:00


Chapter Sixteen

Don’t wait to get to know somebody better before you kiss ’em. Kiss ’em and you’ll know ’em better.

Monica awoke at the crack of dawn the next morning. She’d tossed and turned most of the night, too excited and nervous about today’s venture to sleep soundly. As soon as a touch of morning light filtered through the drapes, her eyes popped open and she began to sit up—only to realize that her face was plastered to Ryder’s warm, bare chest.

She blinked, wondering how she’d ended up so close to him when they’d fallen asleep on opposite sides of the bed last night. Even rolling around like she had, she didn’t remember rolling into him. And that was something Monica thought she would most definitely remember.

Then she became aware of his arm curled around her waist, his hand on the side of her breast. Her leg was draped over his thigh, her knee resting very close to his—

“Morning, sweetheart. Care for a quick tumble?”

Her heart jumped into her throat as her eyes swung to his face. Ryder looked completely content, staring up at her with drowsy amusement.

If she weren’t so embarrassed about unconsciously drifting into him last night, she might have been amused, too. Her face flushed and she threw back the covers to climb out of bed.

“No, thank you.”

“You sure? You’d be surprised at what a cowboy can learn, spending his days around all that rope and hay.”

The images his words created burned themselves into her brain and caused every inch of her skin to tingle with sensual awareness. She dug down deep for a healthy dose of sarcasm and shot back, “Yeah, I’ll bet you and your friend, Ned, can get real creative.”

His self-assured grin slipped a notch at that and she hurried on. “It’s time to get dressed. We have to be ready and listening when they leave the room.”

Sifting through her drawer of limited clothing choices, she gathered a few things and hurried into the bathroom. When she emerged, wearing a short floral skirt and sleeveless periwinkle blue top, Ryder was propped against the headboard, his pillow folded behind his back, one leg thrown out over the bedspread.

He looked picture perfect—if you liked those sexy pictures they put on dirty playing cards—and good enough to eat. Her stomach growled in agreement and she quickly turned away, stuffing her discarded nightshirt in the first drawer she reached.

“All yours,” she gestured toward the bathroom, then busied herself with making a huge production of folding and rearranging the bulky bit of cotton.

More leisurely than she’d have liked, Ryder got out of bed and moseyed—yes, he definitely moseyed, damn his cowboy hide—into the bathroom. Two minutes later, he came back out, still wearing nothing but his navy blue boxer shorts.

He opened one of the dresser drawers that contained his clothes and pulled out jeans, fresh boxers, and an undershirt, then headed back to the bathroom. Stopping just short of the doorway, he turned to stare at her, letting his gaze



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