One Week with the Best Man: Reclaimed by the Rancher

Just when she thought she’d overcome all the potential problems with this fake dating scenario, she’d screwed it up. She should’ve just kept it fake. By admitting in the coffee shop that she was attracted to him, it had opened up the charade to more. He liked her, she liked him...what was stopping this public relationship from becoming a private one?

A hymen, that’s what.

The look on Julian’s face when she said the words had been heartbreaking. One minute, he’d looked at her with blue eyes hooded with desire. She had no doubt in that moment that he sincerely wanted her. Not even her fragile ego could believe otherwise. Then, in a flash, it was replaced by panic. She knew the moment the words left her mouth that it was a mistake.

Julian wanted fun, flirty sex. A hot wedding hookup. Deflowering some thirty-year-old virgin probably didn’t line up with his plans. She’d accused him of trying to escape, but at that point, she wanted out of there more desperately than he did. She needed plenty of time to get home, lie in bed and kick herself.

Fortunately, today had been about wedding preparations. She spent most of the afternoon getting things in place in the chapel before the rehearsal. That kept her busy enough that she could keep her embarrassing incident far out of her mind. When she did see Julian again, there wasn’t much time to talk. First was the rehearsal, and he was on the platform with Murray and Kelly. After that, they all got ushered onto a limo bus and taken to the restaurant for the rehearsal dinner. They hadn’t had two seconds alone, much less time to talk.

Part of her was okay with that. She didn’t feel the need to analyze last night with him. She just needed to get through the next two days and put all of this behind her. But it was hard when he was always touching her. Holding her hand, hugging her to his side, whispering in her ear. It just made her want what she was destined not to have that much more intensely.

One of the waiters placed a piping hot ramekin of peach cobbler in front of her with vanilla bean ice cream melting over it. It looked amazing, and the thought of a tasty treat was enough to rouse her from her dark thoughts. She needed to play the happy girlfriend regardless of what was going on between them.

“That looks good,” Julian said, leaning in to examine her dessert. “Decadent, actually.”

“Didn’t you get dessert?” she asked, already knowing the answer but trying to make polite conversation.

He shook his head and took a sip of his water. He’d spent the evening nibbling on blackened tilapia and roasted vegetables. “Just because you dared me to eat that berry tart doesn’t mean I’ve thrown my clean eating lifestyle out the window.”

“Would you like just one bite? I mean, I know you don’t want to be first, but I thought you might want the second bite.” She couldn’t help getting that dig in under the veiled discussion of dessert so the others at the table couldn’t follow the twists and turns of their relationship.

A look of surprise lit up Julian’s face, his lips twisting into an amused smile. “For the record, I don’t mind having the first taste. I just feel guilty getting the first bite when I know I can’t stay around to eat the whole thing.”

“The cobbler won’t be offended, I assure you. It just wants to be eaten while it’s still hot and juicy. Before long, it’s going to be a cold, crusty, bitter mess.”

“I sincerely doubt that. I know turning that treat down last night was a mistake, but as it was, I spent two hours in the hotel gym last night.”

Her gaze met his. “Feeling guilty?”

He nodded. “I had a little pent-up energy after I left you. Ten miles on the treadmill helped, but I still felt like crap when I was done.”

“You can run all you want, but if you’re on a treadmill, you aren’t getting any farther from your problems.”

“Wise words,” he agreed. “Exercise does help me think. If nothing else, I got some...clarity.”

Gretchen narrowed her gaze at him, her heart suddenly leaping to life in her chest. “What does that mean?”

“It means we need to talk.”

She rolled her eyes and turned back to her dessert. Talk? She’d done plenty of that already. If all he wanted to do was talk, she was going to save this poor cobbler from her own fate. She picked up her spoon and scooped up a bite, stopping as Julian leaned in.

“Soon,” he whispered into her ear. The spoon trembled in her hand as she held it in midair. “I don’t know when, but soon. Don’t you worry about that dessert going uneaten.”