Misadventures of a Backup Bride

I finish lathering up my hair, rinse, and grope my way over to the nearby shelf to grab my bottle of shower gel, but it’s gone.

Moments later, Ella rubs her palms across my chest, and I inhale the familiar scent of my bodywash as the slick gel spreads over my skin.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” I groan.

“Sending you off to work with a smile.”

She kisses me and lathers my body, then focuses all her attention on my cock, now raging for her touch. One caress, and I swear I feel as if I haven’t had her in a century. It’s crazy. It’s wonderful. It’s terrible—especially if this is all just fun and games for her.

I’m lost in a smoldering haze of pleasure that’s beginning to build when she plucks the portable showerhead from its holder and rinses me off thoroughly, skimming her teasing touch over every inch of me.

“Can I return the favor?”

“No. I’m not completely sure you’re squeaky clean yet. There’s just one more spot…”

Then she drops to her knees and takes me into her mouth. I lose my mind—along with the rest of my heart.

As I grip her hair in my fists, dying under the lash of her tongue dancing along the sensitive crest and wrapping down my aching shaft, I let go of my self-control, chiding myself that I either need to tell her I’m falling in love…or let her go for good.

ELLA

Carson is waiting for me on the living room sofa when I step from the bedroom, securing the second of my sparkly earrings. “I’m ready.”

He stands and turns—and I see that look in his eyes.

“Ella…”

He breathes my name like he’s mesmerized, and my pussy clenches. Everything about him has my heart stuttering dangerously.

“You like it?” I hold my arms out wide so he can get a good eyeful of my silvery-gray silk sheath. Its scalloped straps drape over my shoulders. The neckline is scooped deep enough to show my cleavage and the swells of my breasts before it narrows to my waist and flares out to accommodate the rest of my curves. From hip to hem, a band of lace exposes my right side. The dress nips in again at my knees, then spreads gently at the feet one last time like the bell of a trumpet.

Looking incredible in a tuxedo, Carson makes his way to my side. “Like? Wow, you look beyond amazing. Really. Words fail me, sweetheart. I’ve never seen a woman more beautiful.”

I have no idea if he means what he’s saying or if he’s merely pumping up my ego because he wants me to feel confident before we do battle tonight. Either way, he makes me blush and swoon. “Thanks.”

“Thank you. You’ll knock Shaw dead.” He wraps an arm around me. “You know, we’d send a whole different message if we were fashionably late. Or better yet, if we don’t show up at all. Kendra’s father already knows you’re real. He’s seen pictures of us kissing, I’m pretty sure. I could leave him a voice mail that—”

“Stop right there, mister,” I cut in, even though I’d twenty times rather stay home with Carson. “First, I took all the effort to get dressed up, so you’re taking me out and showing me off. Second…” I take his hand and give it a squeeze. “You owe this to Shaw. Six days ago he gave you a week to introduce me to him. If not now, when?”

Carson sighs heavily, as if he knows that fate and duty have left him little choice. “But I’d rather have you all to myself tonight. Well, every night.”

Not for the first time, I wonder if he’s just enjoying the sex…or whether this means something more to him, like it does to me. “Well, since you paid me to look pretty and act devoted, not have sex with you—because that would make me a hooker, which I’m totally not—I think we should go. You need to convince Shaw we’re in love. He’ll loan you the money, then you and Sweet Darlin’ will live happily ever after.”

He leans in, his gaze snagging mine and delving deep. I feel as if he’s trying to tell me something without words. “What if it’s more complicated than that, Ella?”

The question comes out so softly. My heart catches as he eases closer and brushes his lips against mine. “Then we figure it out.”

He drags in a breath that doesn’t sound entirely steady and nods. “Then let’s get this over with so we can come back here and shut the rest of the world out.”

I should probably be more careful with my heart, but I’m beyond all caution now. How did this happen so fast?

The drive to the hotel is quiet. It’s grating on my nerves. I fear Carson is thinking something, but I’m afraid to hope that he and I are on the same page. He’s too logical to fall in love in two days, right?

But even if we are thinking the same thoughts, what comes next? He’s not leaving Sweet Darlin’. It would be unfair of me to ask him to chuck his father’s legacy so I could pursue my very uncertain acting dream, which admittedly may never come true. What if he wanted me to move here with him? Could I give up the support system of my two sisters and all my friends and move to a city I barely know when it will most assuredly end any chance of landing meaningful roles and someday winning an Oscar?

On the other hand, am I prepared to give up Carson?

When we arrive at the hotel where the benefit is being held, the valet opens my door and takes the car. Hand in hand, Carson and I head inside the ballroom. Signs and banners proclaim this a charity event to build schools, daycares, and playgrounds via a Christian charity for underprivileged children.

“This looks like a great cause,” I observe, peering at pictures of their charitable work.

Carson nods tersely, already scanning the room. “My dad was the biggest sponsor of this shindig every year. I wanted to continue the tradition, but Gregory Shaw horned in. No doubt, he wants the good publicity.”

I refrain from mentioning that even if Edward Frost found this cause immensely satisfying, he probably started it for the positive press, too. Instead, I squeeze his fingers. The closer we’ve come to the hotel, the more nervous he’s become. Is he worried we won’t pass Shaw’s muster?

I tug on his hand and pull him around to face me. When his gaze falls on me, he seems to relax a bit.

With an encouraging smile, I reach up and straighten his tie. “We’re going to be great. Everything will work out fine. I’ll convince Shaw. I’m a professional, remember?”

“Yeah.” He nods, breathing out the absent reply. “I know.”

I frown. “Do you think something will go wrong?”

Carson cups my face. “My concern is so much bigger than that. What’s happening between—”

“Hi, Carson,” a lilting feminine voice interrupts.

Before me, he stiffens and slowly lets me go, turning to face a gorgeous blonde suddenly beside us. “Kendra. It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” she murmurs as she’s looking directly at me with unabashed curiosity. She’s also fidgeting like she’s antsy.

He dutifully brushes a kiss across her cheek—but never lets go of my hand. “You look lovely.”

And she does, wearing a champagne-glitter sheath with tiny spaghetti straps. Her hair is a perfect gold-to-platinum ombré. She’s got high cheekbones, glowing skin, a graceful neck, and the kind of delicate beauty that would be a huge hit back home.

A moment of jealousy flares through me until I realize that Carson doesn’t look thrilled to see her at all…and she doesn’t look any more excited about the idea of spending the evening with him. A glance at her hand reveals she’s not wearing her engagement ring.

“You look handsome, too. Dad told me you were bringing your…friend from California. Is this her?” Kendra nods my way.

“Yes. This is Ella Hope. Ella, Kendra.”

We exchange a quick smile and an even quicker handshake.

“Good to meet you,” she tells me, then turns back to Carson. “Can you and I talk for a minute?”

He shrugs. “Sure.”

“Alone, if you don’t mind.” She gives me an apologetic grimace.

I tense. Kendra is technically his fiancée,

and she’s stunning. But Carson clearly has zero interest in her. The fact that he hired me at all, along with his less-than-thrilled expression, tells me to sheath my claws.

“Go ahead.” I nod. “I’ll grab a drink and get the lay of the land.”

“We have a reserved table at the front,” Carson says. “I’ll meet you there shortly.”

“Perfect.”