Dark Horse: Bad Boy Cowboy Romance Page 6

  As it turned out, planning a wedding involves a lot of tasks.

  "Can you believe all this stuff I have to do?" I complained to Lance over dinner that evening (peppers stuffed with some sort of delicious meat and beans mixture, grilled and crunchy and spicy and amazing). "Look at all of this! I need to book a venue, find a caterer, arrange for flowers, hire a band, get drinks - it's crazy! And I haven't even started on figuring out all the guests!"

  My dinner companion nodded as he munched on a mouthful of pepper. "Too bad you can't save these flowers," he remarked, gesturing around at the bouquets still sitting out on most of the available surfaces.

  I groaned. "This just seems like way too much for me to handle. I don't know how anyone actually pulls this off."

  "Aren't there folks that you can hire to run everything for you?" Lance asked, scratching at the five o'clock shadow on his chin. "Wedding planners?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, they exist - but forget an arm and a leg for their services. They'll take everything from the neck down, if they can get it. I can afford most of the wedding costs, I think, especially when marsden helps out, but I can't possibly manage it if I have to pay someone else to pick it all for me as well." Looking down at my empty plate forlornly, I glanced over at the stove. "Anything else that I can eat?"

  Before I could stuff myself with more stuffed peppers, Lance snagged my plate from me. "I think we'll save the rest for leftovers," he said. "And hey, if all this wedding stuff is too overwhelming, you could always elope."

  That made me chuckle. "Elope? No way I could convince Marsden to do that. He needs the big wedding to show off to all his rich friends."

  I almost expected Lance to make some snide comment about my fiancé here. The man, however, held his tongue, and I felt a rush of gratitude towards him for that. He didn't need to be petty. He was better than that.

  "Although," I continued, a sudden idea hitting me, "maybe you could help out!"

  That made him pause for a second; he faced away from me, towards the stove where the rest of the food still sat, but I saw him stiffen for a brief instant. "How?" he asked, not turning around yet.

  I waved my hand at the list of wedding necessities that I'd written out. "I could really use a second opinion, someone to come with me and help figure out this stuff," I said slowly. "And if you could also maybe help bargain down the price, that would be amazing too."

  He finally turned to look back at me. "I'm not sure you want my opinion," Lance replied. "Maybe I should just stick to fixing things-"

  "Nonsense!" I jumped up from my chair. The more I thought about this idea, the better it sounded. "It will be great to have you along! You can tell me what a man thinks about things like cakes, and invitations, and decorations! And you're making great progress on the repairs - you can take a few days off!"

  "But men don't think about cakes or invitations!" he protested, throwing up his hands. "We don't care!"

  It was too late for him, however. I advanced around the counter, reaching out and putting my hands on his shoulders. I had to stand on my tiptoes to reach, but I didn't care.

  "Come on, Lance Umbral," I begged him, staring up into his dark eyes. "Help me plan my wedding!"

  For a moment, he stayed as hard and frozen as stone, and I feared that he might turn me down. But although I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, I kept my eyes locked on his, trying not to show my nervousness inside at asking this man I'd known for such a short time for such a big favor - and finally, he cracked.

  "Fine," he groaned, dropping his gaze down and letting out a long sigh.

  I also let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, dancing around and grinning. "Yes! I've got a wedding planning buddy!"

  It wasn't until later that evening that I remembered the other thing I'd been meaning to tell Lance.

  "Oh, and one other thing," I spoke up, as we sat on the couch in my living room, watching the local announcer read through the day's news.

  Lance groaned, rubbing his face with one big, calloused hand. "What now? Don't tell me, you need me to braid your hair every morning as well."

  "Wow! I'd love that!" I exclaimed, running one hand through my hair. "But no, that's not it. I just wanted to let you know that Marsden's going to come over this Friday to take me out on a date."

  "So?"

  I squirmed a little on the couch. "So, um, I haven't mentioned to him yet that you're living here in my house."

  Now, that got Lance's attention. For the first time in as long as I could remember knowing him, I saw a little glint of concern and alarm enter his eyes. "You haven't told your fiancé that you're living with another man?" he burst out, staring at me as he sat up straight.

  My squirming intensified. "Well, that's why I've invited him over to pick me up for our date on Friday! He can meet you, and you two will get along, and there won't be any problem. See? It's all going to be fine." I hoped.

  For a second longer, Lance just stared at me, his mouth gaping slightly. It took him a couple seconds for him to realize that his jaw was hanging open, and he closed it with an audible click - but he didn't say a word to me.

  "Yay, great," I whispered uncomfortably to myself. "Everything's working out!"

  In my head, I hoped desperately that things would work out. Just as I'd said, I hoped that Marsden would come by, meet Lance, the two would get along without any big problems, and then the whole issue would be past us. No more worrying, at least about that particular thread!

  I really hoped that things would work out that way.

  Chapter twelve

  Things didn't work out that way.

  I'd hoped that, when Marsden came by on Friday to pick me up from my house for our date - our first date since the fight at the Derby - he would be able to meet Lance, and the two of them would hit it off over some facet of mutually shared manliness.

  What that facet might be, exactly, I didn't really know. Marsden tended to spend most of his time talking about business, bragging about his cattle ranching operation and all the ways that his family stayed on top. He didn't spend much time working with his hands, and I had never seen my fiancé fix a broken faucet or repair a fence.

  On the other hand, when Lance wasn't at work, he spent most of his time reading. Sometimes, he'd quote passages to me, and I would listen and do my best to understand. I'd come to learn that my roommate had many layers; I initially saw him as just a cowboy, but that changed sometime around the second or third time he quoted some ancient long-dead philosopher at me from the book in his hands.

  I couldn't recall ever seeing Marsden read a book that wasn't directly about business or written by some billionaire, with his big mug plastered across the cover.

  Still, I convinced myself that the two men would find something to bond over, whether that was cars, drinking, or even former female conquests! I wasn't picky, as long as the two of them didn't get into a fight with each other.

  Marsden pulled up outside my house at half an hour past six on Friday evening. I was sitting on the front porch when he arrived; I'd grown used to the man always arriving late to any event, but it was never clear whether he'd be five minutes late, or forty. I'd become used to finding ways to entertain myself until he arrived.

  As always, he pulled up in a shiny silver Mercedes, the last rays of the setting sun glinting off the spotless car. Marsden insisted on trading in his vehicle every year, and took the car to get washed at least once every two weeks. "The car is the first aspect of your personality that people see," he told me once as he ran a hand over his vehicle. "If you want to make a good impression in business, you need to start from the first thing that your competitors see - even if it's your car."

  I didn't argue with that, but I secretly wondered what first impression I made with my beaten up pickup truck.

  At first, Marsden just sat in the car; I had to give him a wave to get him to actually turn the car off and step out. At least when he emerged, he was smiling, I noted. Hopefully that will b
e a good sign of things to come.

  "Hi, honey," he greeted me, sweeping forward and putting his arms around me. "What's up? Aren't you ready to leave? I'm on time, aren't I?"

  "Just a little late," I replied, meeting his kiss. He felt warm, and smelled slightly of cologne. I guessed that he'd come right from the office. "But before we go, I need to introduce you to someone."

  Marsden's eyebrows climbed a little, but he didn't protest. I took his hand and led him up the stairs and into my house; I'd left Lance sitting on the couch, buried in one of his books.

  Sure enough, my lodger was still in the same place. "Marsden, this is Lance," I introduced the two. "And Lance, this is my fiancé, Marsden Guilefort."

  The two men approached each other carefully, Lance standing up from the couch, and shook hands. I smiled to myself. See? No problems at all!

  As they stepped up to shake hands, Marsden glanced over at me. "Why's this man here, then?" he asked.

  Here goes nothing. "Marsden, I bumped into Lance out on my property," I said, doing my best to keep my tone of voice light and breezy. "He needed a place to stay, and he's great at fixing some of the broken appliances and fences around here. I'm letting him stay here in the spare bedroom in exchange for his help around the property."

  At my explanation, I saw Marsden's face darken slightly, although he kept a mostly blank expression on his face. He turned back to Lance, and I saw him put on a broad smile that couldn't be anything but forced.

  "Well, that sounds like a very nice thing for you to do, Jillian," he boomed out in a louder voice, as his eyes roamed up and down Lance's figure. "And this fellow gets to stay for free, huh? Seems like a pretty nice deal for him!"

  "I pull my weight," Lance responded immediately, leaning forward a little and straightening his spine. Lance was perhaps an inch or so shorter than Marsden, but his shoulders and arms were broader, likely from the physical work around the property on which he spent most of his time. The two men seemed pretty evenly matched, overall - and both of their glares appeared equally hot as they burned from above false smiles. "And it's probably good for Gilly to have someone watching out for her."

  Once again, the two men shook hands, but this time I could see both of their knuckles whitening as they tested each other's grip. Rolling my eyes in the background, unnoticed, I groaned to myself. Of course they'd sink to macho squabbling!

  After another minute, Marsden disengaged from the handshake with a huff. "Well, I'm taking Jillian out tonight, and we had better be going if we want to make our table," he said stiffly. "It's at quite the elegant restaurant. I'd invite you, of course, but we only made the reservation for two."

  "Not to worry," Lance replied, still glaring back at Marsden from above his own fake smile. "I've got plenty to read, here. I'm sure I'll hear you when you come back in, later. If you are coming back, that is?"

  For a moment, I saw Marsden's jaw working back and forth for a second, grinding his teeth, before he put his smile back on. "We'll be back later, both of us," he replied in tones far too sweet to be real. "And hopefully you'll be turned in by that point - we'd hate to keep you awake with any noise."

  For a minute longer, the two men glared at each other, shooting invisible daggers back and forth across the short distance between their faces.

  I finally decided to interject, before they eventually agreed to settle the matter with a pistol duel right outside my house. "Well, it's good that you've now both met each other!" I announced brightly, pushing myself in between the two men. "Marsden, I'm glad you've gotten to meet the man who's HELPING me as a kind FRIEND. And Lance, it's nice that you've finally gotten to meet the man I'm going to MARRY." I leaned on the words as hard as possible, trying to drive them through these two testosterone-bound idiots' thick skulls.

  I don't know if it was my words or my physically inserting myself between the two men, but Marsden finally blinked and backed down, at least slightly. "Yes, well, very good," he said, still sounding stiff and too formal. "Let's head out to dinner, Jillian."

  I grabbed my fiancé's arm and tugged him out of the house before he could change his mind and go back inside to get into a full-on brawl with Lance.

  Once out in the night air, at least, I saw Marsden take a deep breath, and he seemed to calm down a little. As soon as I climbed into the passenger seat of his Mercedes, however, he turned to confront me.

  "Listen, Jillian, I'm not exactly comfortable with that man staying in your house," he began, jumping straight to the point. "I don't trust him."

  I glared back at my fiancé. "Excuse me?" I asked. "You don't trust him? What do you think he's going to do, exactly?"

  "What's he going to do? I don't know!" Marsden burst out, tossing his hands up and bumping them against the ceiling of his car. "Maybe he's just trying to get your confidence so he can rob you! Or maybe he wants to do something even worse to you!" His eyes ran over my body, suggesting what the man wasn't willing to say out loud.

  I just crossed my arms beneath my breasts as I glared back. "Marsden, he's already earned my confidence - as a friend," I insisted. "And what's there to steal from my house? It's not as if I keep a bunch of priceless art statues around."

  Marsden opened his mouth to respond, but I kept on talking, barreling over him. "And as for the other thing you're suggesting, well, that means that you don't trust me!" I said hotly. "Do you trust me to stay faithful to you?"

  "What? Of course I do!" he replied immediately.

  "Well, then you'll have to trust that I won't decide to suddenly throw away everything we have and sleep with the man who's staying with me!" I shot back. "Because if you are worried about the two of us sleeping together, that means that you don't trust me to stay faithful to you. And if that's the case, we've got a much bigger problem than him staying in my guest bedroom."

  I waited a beat as my fiancé said nothing. "Is that the case?"

  "No, that's not a problem," he finally stated - but as he turned the engine of the car over and headed out of my driveway and into town for our dinner together, I could feel him sulking still beside me.

  Well, that was a great first meeting, I thought sourly to myself as we drove out into the setting sun. Just how I imagined it going.

  I prayed that the restaurant he'd selected would have a good wine selection.

  Chapter thirteen

  A few hours later, I was feeling much better about how the evening had gone, although I was probably influenced in part by the wine currently sloshing around my stomach and sending little bubbles up to my brain.

  Marsden had done well in picking a restaurant, at least. The place had all the necessary romantic qualities, with white tablecloths, red velvet curtains, candles, and a nicely dim interior. The waiters were prompt and courteous, the food came out smelling (and tasting!) just as delicious as anything that Lance had cooked for me during his time living with me, and best of all, they had a great wine selection!

  By the time I pushed my mostly demolished plate of chicken piccata away from me, I was nearly done with my third glass, and feeling much better about how things had gone. Sure, there'd been a little hiccup with the two men currently in my life meeting each other, but they'd surely manage to get past this uncomfortable first impression! And then, well, everything would be just fine and dandy!

  Across the table from me, it looked like Marsden was also feeling better. Although he'd still worn a stormy frown when we first entered the restaurant, his mood slowly rose, helped along by the large steak he'd demolished. By the time the waiter arrived with the dessert menus, he was happily telling me about one of his recent cattle deals, waving his hands animatedly as he described his profit margins or something.

  "And seriously, it's amazing, I totally scored a great deal," he said happily, covering up a burp with one hand. "Oh, what's this?"

  "The dessert menu, sir," the waiter replied politely. "How are we feeling? Some creme brulee, perhaps? Maybe a nice fruit tart?"

  I considered the idea of desse
rt, but I already felt warm and stuffed with food. "Maybe just another glass of wine," I suggested gaily, waving my nearly empty glass in a little circle in the air.

  The waiter nodded - quite politely, I thought to myself through a slight fog, considering how drunkenly I was acting. He collected the menu back from me, gave Marsden and me a little nod, and then headed off to refill my glass.

  Not that it was an act on my part, I pointed out to myself. I'd been holding myself back to maybe one glass of wine per night for the last week or so. The three glasses - or was it four? - that I'd consumed so far this evening had gone right to my head, and I felt a good bit past tipsy.

  I reached out for my glass again - and missed with my first grab. Yes, I was definitely into full-on drunk territory.

  "So, tonight's going well," Marsden commented, once the waiter had returned to refill my glass - and to bring my fiancé the bill. He pulled his credit card out from the inside pocket of his suit coat and slipped it into the leather folder. "Shall we head back to your house for a nightcap, perhaps?"

  I grinned across the table at the man, knowing exactly what he meant. Even despite the stumbles he sometimes made, and his tendency to only talk about himself, my fiancé was a sexy man. He was a big muscular bear, and he always made love with powerful strength, dominating me and seizing what he wanted. Sometimes, I found him a little too rough, but it had been a while for me, now, and I could use a bit of force.

  "You got it, mister!" I replied cheerily, finishing off the last glass of wine in just a few gulps.

  With the bill taken care of, Marsden stood up and helped me to my feet. I leaned on him unsteadily as we headed out of the restaurant, grinning up at him. "So, what're you gonna do to me?" I asked him as he walked me down to where he'd parked the car.

  Marsden smiled back at me. "Oh, I've been missing you like crazy," he replied, letting his hand drop down to give my bottom a little tweak through the dress that covered me. "I'm going to make sure that you're still nice and limber!"

  I landed heavily in the passenger seat of his car, fumbling around and needing a couple of tries to click my seatbelt shut around me. I turned my gaze sideways to look at my fiancé as he climbed into the driver's side beside me. "Yeah, I'm all limber, you sexy man," I replied, not caring about how my words slurred slightly. "In fact, I could show you how limber I am... right now!"