Make Me Yours (Bridgewater County 5)

“You’re Jane Goodheart!”

“Oh my goooooood, I’ve been in love with you ever since that evil man, Ramos, bit you and made you a vampire. Where’s Kade?”

We’d handed off the horses to the guys working in the stable and took showers in the employee locker room before collecting Lacey from her cabin. Had we known she was to be accosted at the outdoor lunch, we would have avoided it entirely.

But we’d had no idea how famous she really was.

When we’d knocked on her door, she’d been ready, dressed in a pretty sundress. It was modestly cut, but I couldn’t miss her delectable curves. My cock got hard at the sight of her, knowing exactly what was beneath, but since it was demure, it ensured no one else would.

“Is this okay?” she’d asked, glancing down at her outfit.

“For the picnic? Yes. To keep our hands off you? It’s going to be hard,” Colt said, shifting his cock in his clean jeans.

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“That’s not the only thing,” she replied, grinning.

Colt cupped her waist, pulled her in for a kiss. He rolled his hips and I knew she felt him. “Damn straight. Are you sure we can’t stay here and have a picnic of our own?” Colt leaned in, murmured in her ear. “We’d take turns eating you.”

Lacey licked her lips and I saw the heat in her eyes. She knew we’d follow through on his words if she said yes. “Oh no. I want some of this barbecue. I’ve worked up an appetite.” She squeezed between us and down the steps as if she had to get as far away from a bed—and privacy—as possible to ensure we didn’t get between her thighs.

We’d made it through the buffet line and had our hands full with loaded plates of smoked meat, side salads and sliced fruit, cutlery and drinks. But a couple blocked our way to one of the picnic tables spread out across the flat area behind the main lodge, stopping us. Or at least stopping Lacey.

They were in their thirties, with big smiles and eager gazes. The man wore jeans and a pale blue golf shirt with sneakers. The woman wore a black skirt and white tank top with cowboy boots. Based on their Southern accents, I had to assume her footwear was brand new.

The wife, who had to be five feet tall, pushed Colt out of the way, his lemonade sloshing over the edge of his cup and dripped down his hand. Lacey backed up a step, bumping into me. Her ponytail brushed across my plate before I could move it out of the way and she had potato salad on the ends.

“Oh um…thanks,” Lacey murmured. For a second, when the guy said she’d been bit and turned into a vampire, my mind had stalled. I thought the guy was insane. Her name wasn’t Jane Goodheart. They must have mistaken her for someone else, but then I remembered she’d said she starred in a TV show about vampires.

The couple, who had the biggest, goofiest grins, looked around. “Where’s Kade?”

Who the fuck was Kade? I watched as Colt put his food down on the nearest table, wiped his hand on a napkin and watched closely. I didn’t think he’d tackle the couple to the ground since they were ranch guests, but they were in Lacey’s face. Not only was she also a guest, but she was ours. If she needed protecting, even from this duo, Colt would step in. So would I, brisket be damned.

“Kade’s not real. He’s just a character on the show,” Lacey told them.

Their expressions drooped as if they’d just been told there was no Santa Claus.

“Yes, but you’re Jane! I understand if you’re taking a vacation—isn’t this place fabulous?—but Kade should be with you.”

“I’m not really Jane,” Lacey clarified.

The woman waved her hand as if she didn’t believe her. “What did you do to your hair? We almost didn’t recognize you.”

I wasn’t an expert on women’s hairstyles, but her hair looked fine to me. I didn’t see any difference in it from an hour ago.

Lacey lifted her hand to the side of her head, ran it down her ponytail, frowned when she felt the bits of potato salad. The woman reached out with her napkin and wiped off the food, stared at it. “Oh my god! This was on Jane Goodheart. Will you autograph it? I’ll be able to sell it on eBay for like, a hundred dollars!”

I put my food down and—figuratively and literally—stepped between the couple and Jane…Lacey. They were way over the top. Completely in Lacey’s face. “Let’s let her eat her meal,” I said.

The couple wasn’t having any of it. “It’s Jane, everyone!”

People were staring because of the scene the couple was making. I heard some murmurs about recognizing Lacey, but they didn’t really seem to care. Some people recognized boundaries.

“If I sign something for you, will you let me eat my lunch?” Lacey asked. I could hear the touch of aggravation in her voice, but her expression was as sweet as pie. Yeah, she was a good actress.

I wasn’t. Colt wasn’t either by the thunderous look on his face.

“Sure, sure,” the husband said, pulling a pen out of the camo fanny pack about his waist. “Here. Make it out to Sam and Belinda.”