One Week with the Best Man: Reclaimed by the Rancher

He lunged forward and pressed his lips to hers, stealing the question from her lips. Unlike their quick, passionless pecks at the restaurant the night before, this kiss packed a punch. Julian leaned into her, coaxing her mouth open and probing her with his tongue.

She wanted to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. One of his hands was at her waist and the other on her shoulder, keeping her from retreating. Closing her eyes, she remembered she was an actress playing a part. She stopped fighting it and tried to relax. Maybe she could let herself enjoy it for once.

When her tongue tentatively grazed along his, he moaned low against her mouth. The sound sent a shock wave of need through her body making her extremities tingle. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her. When she’d relaxed against him, his grip on her lessened and his hands became softer and exploratory. They slid across the silky fabric of her dress, finally coming to rest as they wrapped around her waist.

Just when Gretchen had relaxed into his arms and was enjoying their experimental kiss, she felt him tug hard against her. Mercy, but he was strong. Those muscles weren’t just for show. The next thing she knew, she was in Julian’s lap, straddling him. Her dress rode up high on her thighs and she could feel the warm press of his arousal against her leg.

She almost didn’t believe it at first. Gretchen hadn’t felt many erections in her time. She hadn’t anticipated feeling one here, for sure. Could Julian really be turned on by their kiss, or was he just a very convincing actor? The concerning question startled her enough to make her break away from the kiss. The second her eyes opened, she regretted it. In the moment, things had felt right. Exhilarating and scary, but right. Once she pulled away, all she could do was look awkwardly at the man in whose lap she was sitting. It was a decidedly unladylike and bold place to be, and she wasn’t comfortable with either of those adjectives. She could feel the heat in her chest and throat and knew she was blushing crimson in her predicament.

Julian didn’t seem to mind. Their awkward parting and her extra pounds in his lap were irrelevant if the pleased grin on his face told her anything. She couldn’t tell if he was happy she was doing so well, if he was that good an actor, or if he really was having a good time with it.

“Excellent work,” he said. “You’re an A pupil.”

“Does that mean I should get off your lap so we can move on to the next lesson?”

He shook his head and wrapped his arms tighter around her waist. “Not a chance. Just because you’re a quick study doesn’t mean you don’t need the lessons. We’re going to work on this a little more.”

“How much more?”

“We’re going to sit on this couch and make out until it feels like the most natural thing in the world for us both. If you’re going to fool the cameras, we can’t stop short of anything less than authenticity.”

Gretchen swallowed a chortle of laughter. She wasn’t sure that making out with a man like him would ever feel natural, but she wasn’t about to complain any time soon about extra lessons.

* * *

Julian’s rental car was only a few miles from Murray’s house, where they were hosting the welcome barbecue. Julian had spent a good part of the past hour going over their manufactured backstory with Gretchen.

“Okay, tell me again how we met. People are going to ask.”

She sighed and turned to look out the passenger side window. “You came out here to visit Murray a few weeks ago and happened to join him on a trip to the venue, where you met me. We hit it off, you asked me out for a drink. We’ve been texting and talking since you went back to LA, and you came back to Nashville early for us to spend time together.”

She nailed it. He knew she would. Beneath that shy buffer, Gretchen was one of the smartest, funniest women he’d ever met. It just took a while to get through the nerves. She could handle this; she just couldn’t let her anxiety get in the way. “Have we slept together yet?”

Gretchen looked at him with wide eyes. “No, I doubt it. I think we may have traded some saucy texts, but I’m making you wait a little while longer.”

“You’re a little minx. Good to know.”

Julian slowly pulled the car into the driveway and stopped at the large wrought-iron fence, where a small crowd of camera-toting men and fans were loitering. “Smile, you’re on Candid Camera.”

“What do I do?” she asked.

“Just pretend they aren’t there. That’s the easiest thing to do. Maybe play it up for them a little bit.” He reached out and took her hand, holding it in an effortless way as they waited for security to open the gates. Once they pulled through there, they followed the circular driveway to the house, where a valet was waiting. He left the keys in the ignition and turned to look at her. “Any last questions before we do this?”