The Wedding Date Disaster (Harbor City 4)

Will glanced down at the couch that had just gone up in value about a million percent. He sat down on it lengthwise, his boots hanging over one armrest, and settled back, using the other armrest as a pillow. He tilted his hat down and closed his eyes.

“Guess you should’ve called the couch,” he said, not bothering to hide his smirk.

Chapter Seven

Hadley cracked her eyes open. What parts of her body weren’t heavy with sleep were aching from the uncomfortable crash of consciousness—calling it a nap was too generous—in the single overstuffed chair in the living room. She had no idea how much time had passed, but the sky had turned pinky orange and the scent of hamburgers on the grill was wafting in from the open window.

“Welcome back to the world of the not-currently-snoring,” Will said from his spot on the couch. “I’ve never heard anything like it before. It was like the cross-harbor train was hiccupping but louder.”

Ignoring the fact that his light-brown hair was mussed to just the right amount of took-a-nap-but-am-still-crazy-hot, the deep dimple in his cheek as he grinned at her, and the way his shirt clung to his muscular chest—okay, mostly ignoring it—she lifted her chin.

“I don’t snore,” she said, a declaration that probably would have carried more weight if she hadn’t been trying to subtly dab at the drool on the corner of her mouth while she said it.

“I thought you might say that.” He got up from the couch and crossed over to her before squatting down next to her chair and holding out his phone so they could both see the screen. “That is why I recorded it.”

He hit Play and—

Damn those tech people and their need to constantly improve the video quality of cell phones.

The image on the screen showed her with her mouth open wide enough to catch a swarm of horseflies, her hair going every which way, and a very distinctly glistening line of moisture going from her mouth to her chin. It was bad. It wasn’t like grab-a-horse-and-ride-off-to-the-farthest-pasture-for-the-rest-of-eternity bad, but it was still very not good. Then it got worse because of course it did. Will clicked the volume control button and took the phone off mute and a low, loud, stuttering rumble of a snore filled the room.

Hadley closed her eyes, but it only made the snores louder in her head. Great. Exhaling, she opened her eyes and looked up at Mr. Bargain Bin Halloween Costume Cowboy himself. The big jerk was grinning down at her, his cute-boy dimple doing its best to distract from his evil nature.

She shrugged. “So it happened once.”

Will slid his phone back in his front pocket—how there was enough room, considering how tightly they fit, she had no idea—and stood upright, his attention never straying from her face.

“By the e

nd of the week, we’ll know for sure,” he said.

Ah yes, they were stuck sleeping together. Well, not together. They’d be in the same room—one that was small enough that if she got up right now, she’d have no choice but to stand within touching distance of him.

Not that she wanted to touch him.

Ugh.

That was the last thing she wanted even if he had one section of hair in desperate need of being brushed back and a day’s worth of scruff on his jaw that looked like it was the perfect mix of sandpaper and silk to the touch. Nope. She was keeping her hands to herself, clasped right in the middle of her lap, and her ass firmly planted on the damn uncomfortable chair because what had happened in the coat closet at the fundraiser had been an accident.

Pure chance.

Bad luck.

An obvious sign that she’d done something horrible in a previous life.

“I have no idea what’s going on in that head of yours, but it looks like steam is about to come out of your ears.” He leaned down and put his hands on the chair’s armrests on either side of her. “You thinking about all the hot dreams you had of me?”

No!

But now she probably would be, damn her easily suggestible subconscious.

Not that she’d admit that the coat-closet kiss had been an ahem inspiration that might have—all right, had—required the purchasing of new batteries. The man’s ego was out of control enough as it was. Plus with Will here, there was not enough privacy on the whole of Hidden Creek Ranch for her to use the vibrator she’d tucked into her suitcase. Somehow the man would figure it out. And he’d call her on it. And oh my God why was it getting so hot in here and why were her nipples suddenly so achingly hard?

Do you really need three cowboy guesses for that one, Hadley?

“We need to head out for dinner before Aunt Louise sends one of the cousins to see if we are doing something we aren’t supposed to,” she said, the words all coming out in one fast rush that still managed to sound breathy and desperate to her own ears.

There was no way Will would miss it—or the probable reason for her discomfort.