Page 53 of Bedding The Best Man (Bedding the Bachelors)

“And now we resort to name calling,” Leland said, sounding dramatically disappointed.

Brianne had enough. She marched up to the stage and stomped up the stairs. Gabe held his breath, afraid of what she might say. But she was a lady, of course, raised to handle herself in polite society.

“All of this—the grand entrance, the dramatic announcement—is sour grapes. You feel threatened. And I don’t know how you have inside information about how my event was planned, but the fact that you have any at all tells me that you dug around for it—that doesn’t reflect well on you, Leland.”

Brianne turned to the crowd. “Let’s hold an informal vote right now.” She was smiling, and Gabe knew it was a gamble. But Evie was smiling from ear to ear, too, giving Brianne a thumbs up. “Let’s let our guests decide whose event they preferred, your or ours.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Leland said, waving his hands. “Let’s keep this all above-board.”

“Why? You afraid of what you’ll find out?” Brianne asked, folding her arms.

“No, but you must understand that this isn’t usually done. I wouldn’t want the guests to be swayed by the votes of their friends.”

“Vote!” Evie called out. There were mutterings all around them, most of which sounded positive.

Leland shrugged, and Brianne went through with the vote—winning by a huge margin. When she asked for hands from those voting for her event over Leland’s, nearly every hand shot up. Gabe beamed with pride.

Brianne smiled at her guests. “Thank you, and I’m sorry your evening was disrupted. Please, enjoy yourselves. The bonfire has been lit, music is scheduled to continue throughout the night. Have fun, and thank you so much for coming.” The crowd erupted in gracious applause, and Brianne left the stage without a look back at Leland. Gabe watched as Bri’s competitor slinked off into the shadows.

Evie rushed Brianne when she reached the dance floor, throwing her arms around her boss. They hugged and laughed.

Gabe joined them, and Brianne threw an arm around his waist. He kissed the top of her head. “Well done, you.”

“I’m so fucking proud of you. You really showed him,” Evie said.

“You know what?” Brianne looked at the both of them. “I don’t even care if we win anymore.”

“Say what?” Evie’s jaw dropped.

“Hey, we can always start again. I’m not firing you,” Bri laughed. “I know we did the better job. Weshouldwin. But if the magazine decides I went outside the rules, so be it. I proved myself. That might be enough to win back business, either way.”

And it was, if the crowd of people who quickly surrounded them meant anything. All of them congratulated Brianne, telling her she threw a beautiful, original event. A few of them even promised to call her during the coming week, to discuss new events they wanted her to organize.

“You’re a hit,” Gabe murmured, pulling her close when they were finally alone again.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said. “And I wouldn’t have tried. No way could I have pulled this off, in this timeframe. Thank you. You saved my business, and my reputation in this town.”

He squeezed her tight, and they watched the guests mingle and dance and head up to the bonfire, where they made s’mores and sang old campfire songs late into the night.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Brianne stumbled into the yurt, deliriously happy but just as exhausted. It was still filled with flowers, and the scent of the blooms combined with the dancing light from the lanterns and fire pit were enchanting. Maybe it was the combined emotions of the evening, but everything seemed even more vivid than usual. The sky had been starrier, the air crisper, the sounds of the crickets more musical.

It was one of the happiest nights of her life, and it didn’t matter to her one bit whether or not she won the contest. She already felt like a winner, thanks to the presence of the man who followed her into the yurt.

“This has to be the most interestingLife and Societycontest in history,” Brianne said, kicking off her shoes before flopping down across a pile of cushions. “No matter what the outcome, it’ll be talked about for ages.”

“Then you’ll be happy to know you handled yourself like a real pro out there,” Gabe said. “You were a Whitcomb, all the way. No, scratch that—you were you. Which is just as good, if not better.”

She grinned up at him, knowing he gave her the courage to say the sort of things she’d been dying to say to Leland for years. While she couldn’t exactly tell him what she thought about him, she did have the satisfaction of knowing he’d slithered off like the snake he was. It must have been a long, lonely drive home. She wasn’t even sure if she cared who his inside source was—it wasn’t Evie, which was all that mattered. Otherwise, she was too satisfied at the way he’d made a fool of himself to pay it much thought. She smiled even wider at the memory.

Then she noticed the way Gabe’s expression changed. He’d been looking down at her with admiration and affection…but now, his look had a hint of lust, of need.

Her body responded immediately to just that look.

“I’ve been dying for you,” he whispered, falling to his knees beside her.

“Me, too,” she murmured, wetness already flooding her, her pulse already picking up. “It’s been torture.”

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