Pranked (6 page)

I
fell asleep somewhere
on the short flight between Vegas and Fresno, and I woke up with my cheek pressed against Bennett’s shoulder. It was hard to pull myself away. I couldn’t remember the last time Ken had let me just sleep on his shoulder. Bennett’s warmth and weight were comforting, and I inhaled slowly, breathing in the faint scent of cologne overlaid on the clean smell of the hotel’s soap. It amused me that someone with the kind of money he had would use the hotel’s soap.

My head felt heavy as I lifted it from his shoulder, mumbling, “Hey, Cowboy.”

“Hey, Sunshine,” he murmured in return. “We just landed. You wanna wake up your bodyguard?”

I ran a hand through my hair, thankful I’d at least showered that morning. My clothes were starting to feel grungy, though. “My what?” I asked, looking around the cabin until my gaze fell on Layla’s sleeping form. She was curled up in the back of the couch, her heavy black boots on the floor beside her, pink-socked feet tucked under her legs.

“Ah,” I said, finally sitting up straight. “Good call. She’s kind of a bear first thing.”

“You don’t say,” Bennett answered, clearly amused. I watched as he stood and stretched, my eyes following the long line of his torso before turning away. Sometimes when I looked at him, quick and fleeting flashes of memory bloomed from that night, but every image that came to mind only brought a blush to my cheeks.

“I’ll see to our luggage,” he continued. “Meet you outside if you survive?”

“Yeah, thanks,” I said, laughing softly. As he turned and went I wondered about how easy it was to feel comfortable around him. Was that what I’d felt last night? Was that why I’d married him? It had been a long time since I’d known a man I just felt comfortable around. There was Layla, sure, but she was really all I had. I hadn’t seen my parents since Ken had convinced me they were trying to ruin my career. I’d said some pretty horrible things to them when I’d moved out. Going back home wasn’t really an option. I wasn’t ready to face them yet. Hopefully in time, I could figure out how to apologize.

I managed to dodge Layla’s flailing arm when I woke her, and a few grumbling minutes later we were descending the staircase to the tarmac at another small airstrip. Bennett was waiting for us by a sleek, black Cadillac.

“Well,” Layla said, taking my arm and adjusting her sunglasses. “At least he’s got style, boo.”

“As if I’d be so tacky as to marry someone without style,” I returned, smiling in spite of myself when I met Bennett’s eyes.

“Uh huh. How’s Elvis, by the way? I hear he does a mean Wedding March.”

I nudged her ribs with my elbow, laughing, and turned toward Bennett as he held the car door open for us. The grin he answered with made my breath catch. I’d been trying, since waking up next to him this morning, to figure this guy—my apparent husband—out. Sometimes he seemed too smooth, like the guys at the clubs who just really wanted to say they’d slept with Gabby Rover. Sometimes, though, like when he smiled like this, he seemed like a real person.

After spending a while in Hollywood, you start to believe that there aren’t any real people left in the world. Everyone is fake. Everyone is acting, all the time. Acting cool, acting smart, acting beautiful, acting sweet. Acting whatever it is that will get them the part or the deal or the headline.

I could see that Bennett was acting too, some of the time, but when he grinned at me, when his hand lingered on my elbow as he helped me into the car, my heart stuttered a little. When Bennett was real, he was nothing but real.

My heart still hadn’t returned to its regular pattern as he slid in next to me, and I felt a little ridiculous for being so affected by a simple touch to my elbow.

I was about to say something, when Layla butted in. “How far to this ranch?”

“About fifteen miles,” Bennett said. “It’s really a beautiful drive.”

“I’m sure it is,” she said, slinking down in her seat. “You can tell me all about it when we get there.”

And then she was out and snoring. Bennett and I looked at each other at the same time, and we both burst into giggles.

“
R
anch” was really not
the right word for Bennett’s retreat. Sure, there was a barn with actual horses in it, and the house was made out of logs, but the horses were thoroughbreds, and the house was really a sprawling mansion.

“Nice ranch, Cowboy,” I said as I stepped out of the car, and then I snorted a laugh. I must have really been tired, to let myself laugh like that. “Sorry,” I said reflexively, covering my mouth with one hand.

“Hilarious, Sunshine,” he said, smirking, as he rested his hand on my back to lead me into the house. Layla trailed behind us, and we were met halfway up the walk by a man who looked like the cover model of Patchouli Monthly.

His dark brown hair hung long and messy around his face, and he had the sort of stubble that was too attractive to be unconscious. He was tall and lean, chest and feet both bare, and I heard Layla suck in a breath when he approached.

“Well, hello, beautiful,” she said, and Bennett let out a chuckle.

“Layla, Ava, this is River. He’s the caretaker here when I’m away. River this is my wife Ava, and her friend Layla.”

“No kidding,” River said, his voice still sounding like nothing ever fazed him, despite his words. “You got married, boss?”

“Looks that way,” Bennett said, and River grinned.

“Welcome to the ranch, Mrs. Boss,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat. “Let me know if you need anything while you’re here.”

I nodded, charmed by his unassuming sweetness.

“Oh, we’ll let you know,” Layla said, and I didn’t have to look to imagine the expression she wore on her face. The predator was coming out. I almost felt sorry for River. Almost.

“Want me to take the bags to your room, boss?” he asked, smirking just a bit.

“Mine and Ava’s, yes,” he said, then turned to me. “If that’s all right?”

I knew that I should say no. I knew that I should room with Layla or sleep on the couch or something along those lines, but looking around, all I saw for miles was open space and vegetation. No cars, no people, no noise….

I felt at peace, and I felt free, and I think that was what made me say, “Yes, of course,” and take his hand.

Bennett nodded, that boyish grin back on his face. “Mine and Ava’s to my room, then. And Layla will be in one of the guest rooms. Will you show her the way?”

“Sure thing, boss,” River answered, moving to the car as Layla mouthed, “
Rooms?
” at me.

“Layla,” Bennett said, and Layla finally turned her attention back to him. “Feel free to explore the house and the grounds. There’s a pool out back, and I’m sure River can find you a suit if you don’t have one. We’ll have dinner at, say, seven? River can show you the dining room.”

Bennet’s caretaker’s beauty must have convinced Layla that he could be trusted, at least somewhat, because she just nodded, already moving toward where River was unloading our bags. “Uh huh,” she said. “I’ll make him give me the full tour.”

Bennett laughed, and his arm slipped around my waist and it felt so natural to lean into his embrace. “Take it easy on him, okay? He’s good at his job, and I’d hate to have to replace him.”

“I break it, I buy it,” Layla answered with a mischievous grin. “Got it.”

Then she turned away, and I was alone with my husband.

“We should give River a chance to get our bags put away, but then I’d guess you’ll want to change,” he said, nodding to my outfit, the same I’d been wearing since the night before. Well, except for that brief break where it had been left strewn around his hotel room.

I looked down at myself and laughed. “Not the most glamorous trousseau, certainly.”

“Trou-what now?” He started guiding me into the house, hand on the small of my back as we stepped through double front doors into the wide open entryway.

“Trousseau?” I repeated, looking around the space. It was comfortable. Masculine. Basically everything you could want from a not-so-rustic cabin. The space was furnished in natural woods and leather. Touches of red and deep blue here and there to give some color. “It’s what the bride takes with her on her honeymoon. Clothes and... and lingerie and things.” My face felt hot again at the flash of a memory burned in my brain—Bennett’s hand sliding into my underwear, his lips on my neck, then my bra….

“Ah,” he said, smirking a little. “I think your trousseau’s just fine, then. But if you need anything, I can send River out for it. I know you weren’t planning on a week in the wilderness.”

I laughed, gesturing around us. “I’d hardly call this wilderness.”

He shrugged. “Still. It’s not Vegas.”

“No,” I agreed quietly. “It’s definitely not Vegas.”

For a moment, we both stood quietly in the hall, lost in our own thoughts. I was thinking about how much better a choice some retreat like this would have been for me in the first place. If I’d just gotten away from civilization in the first place, I wouldn’t be married to a stranger.

But as I looked over at Bennett, I had to wonder if that would really be better after all. As strange as this whole adventure was, I was beginning to really feel like I needed it. It had certainly done wonders to take my mind off of everything else going on in my life, and I’d really never felt so free and uninhibited. I’d spent far too long pretending to be one thing, listening to and taking direction, that I was in danger of forgetting who I really was and what I really wanted. But was
this
what I really wanted? I had no idea, but at least I was free to explore it a little and find out.

He cleared his throat, and we both came back to ourselves. “Shall we? I could use a change of clothes myself.”

“Oh, of course,” I said, falling back into politeness for the sake of ease.

We wandered through the building, down a hallway, past a game room the size of my parents’ house, and finally into a large, corner room with an expansive view.

“I can carry you over the threshold if you want,” Bennett said, and I shook my head stepping inside.

“I would hope you got that out of your system last night.”

“Oh, I did.” Something in his voice triggered another memory: my legs wrapped around his hips, his hands on my ass, pushing me back against the door until he got it open and we both tumbled into the room. I felt a throbbing ache between my thighs, accompanied by a spike of anger at not being able to remember something like that in greater detail.

By the time I turned back to Bennett, he had stripped off his shirt and trousers and was wandering toward the wide, dark dresser that sat along one wall, wearing only his boxers. I let myself watch him for a moment, the way his muscles moved under tanned skin. He didn’t have the body of someone who worked physically for a living, but he clearly kept himself in shape. My eyes were caught by a tattoo between his shoulder blades, a cherry red Corvette driving into a sunset.

Before I could ask what it meant, he was pulling on his jeans and turning back to me as he buttoned them. He was so at ease, so comfortable. As though this weren’t a strange situation. As though he married girls in Vegas and flew them back to his ranch every day.

“Oh my god,” I said, a shaky laugh bubbling through my lips. “Oh my god. This is insane. This is... this is crazy.” I could feel the anxiety, the pressure of the last four days surging up inside me. How the hell had I ended up here? How the hell had I let myself get this far? How the hell had I gotten married? My emotional state was like a roller coaster. One minute I was enjoying the freedom of being allowed to make choices like this, and the next I was regretting every one of them and questioning my own sanity.

“This is... this is completely ridiculous. I can’t... we can’t….” I felt a knot forming in my throat and struggled to speak through it. “I can’t believe I... why the hell would I…?” I sucked in a deep breath, fighting hyperventilation. “We... we have to get a divorce,” I said, full into panic mode now. “I... I was drunk. We both were, I guess, but I don’t even remember the wedding. I... surely it doesn’t count if we were drunk? Don’t you have to be of sound mind or something? And then we... we... slept together, and I... I was drunk! What the hell kind of guy takes advantage of a drunk girl like that?” Of course, he was just as drunk as I was. The difference was, he wasn’t freaking out about everything.

I glanced up at him, half expecting him to have an answer. Then I laughed again, an uncontrolled burst of giggles. I really was the one freaking out here, but I couldn’t help myself. Everything just seemed to settle down onto me at once. “Oh my god,” I said again. “Oh my god. How are you even….?”

My husband. How was he even my husband?

And what kind of girl did that make me?

I
watched
, helpless, as Ava began to hyperventilate right in front of me. I should tell her the truth. I should come clean and confess and….

But I couldn’t. Not now. Not when she was freaking out like this. I told myself I was worried that it might push her over the edge. That she might do something crazy.

I was lying to myself. I just didn’t want her to hate me. Somewhere in the past twenty-four hours, I’d started to care about her, and this had become more than just a prank I was pulling on her. In fact, the more I thought about the mess I’d gotten myself into, the more I was starting to wonder whether the joke was really on
me
. I’d met this incredible girl who I had an amazing, immediate connection with, not to mention mind-blowing sex, and I still managed to find a way to fuck it all up before I’d even known her a day.

But I couldn’t dwell on my own problems right now. Ava needed me more.

“Hey,” I said, crossing the room to her. “Hey, calm down.” I tried to use the same soothing voice that Al had taught me to use with the horses on the ranch when we’d been kids. I didn’t want to spook her. She was gasping in deep breaths, sort of half-sobbing, half-hiccupping, and I stepped closer, taking hold of her shoulders and pulling her tight against my chest.

“Hey,” I said again, softer. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

She was sobbing, and her fists were beating against my chest one moment and clinging to my arms the next. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to help, so I just held her, hoping she’d calm down before she really hurt either of us.

Her face was tucked against my neck, and her body was pressed tightly to mine, almost fused against me. My mind wandered back to last night, to the way she’d clung to me as I moved inside her, and I felt my dick stirring, hardening. She must have felt it because one moment she was pressing closer, and the next she was pulling back, looking up at me.

Guilt washed over me. It was a strange sensation. I didn’t usually feel guilt. I didn’t let myself. That was a path I normally refused to let myself go down. Still, standing there in my bedroom, holding this sobbing girl, I felt guilty for not being able to stop myself from imaging her tight heat wrapped around my cock even while I was hugging her close, trying to calm her down.

I loosened my grip on her shoulders, and she took a step back, but her eyes stayed on my face, pupils wide, lips parted. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to reach out, grab her, and yank her back into a kiss with such passion and intensity that it would force all of the forgotten memories of last night to flood back into her brain, reminding her of everything we’d shared, both verbally and physically, and how good it had been. If it served no other purpose, it would have at least taken her mind off her troubles for a while.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t kiss her. Not right now. Not when she didn’t know the truth.

In the end, it didn’t matter what I thought or wanted or decided was best for her, because Ava lunged for me on her own, arms wrapping tightly around my neck, lips pressed almost violently to mine. I felt her heart pounding against my chest through the thin fabric of her blouse. My hands came up to frame her face, fingers tangling in her hair as she pressed closer, her hips rubbing against mine as if in a desperate effort to bring our groins together. I groaned as her mouth opened and my tongue snaked out to taste her, our hips continuing to push forward in an almost painful rush of sensation.

I wanted her so bad. Worse than I had last night. I knew her better now. I’d seen her alone and vulnerable, and I wanted to put all that from her mind. More than that, I wanted to lose myself in her sweet innocence, to know what it would be like to be loved by someone like Ava Cassidy.

I couldn’t tell her the truth now. If I did, she’d hate me forever. Layla might actually kill me, but it was the thought of Ava hating me that I couldn’t stand. It was the thought of losing her that made me finally pull my mouth away, our foreheads still pressed together as we panted against each other’s lips.

“I... have to check in with River on some things,” I said, finally disentangling myself from her arms. It took every ounce of strength I had to pull completely away and stride back to my dresser to tug a t-shirt over my head. “I’ll be back to take you to dinner?”

Without giving her a chance to answer, I dropped a kiss on her cheek and slipped out of the room.