Page 11 of Baiting His Bride

I’m draining the last of my bourbon when Sawyer rises and helps his wife to her feet. I push back my chair faster than the takeoff of a McLaren in pole position at the Monaco Grand Prix, but Mallory stops me, her grip tightening on my thigh.

“Don’t forget, you guys,” Kelsie says, addressing the seven of us seated down the table on her left. “That photo booth in the corner is also a video booth. Be sure to share your words of wisdom about marriage and what advice, if any, you’d offer Sawyer and me.”

She turns, presumably to encourage the other side of the table to make a video, as well. I lean over to Mallory. “Think that includes us or are we exempt?”

She lays her napkin next to her plate. “Bet you can’t make a video delivering married words of wisdom with a straight face.”

She’s clearly never seen me play poker. “Stakes?”

“If I recall correctly,” she says, leaning over to whisper in my ear, “we never settled the whole chance to prove I’m good with my tongue bet.”

Her warm breath skims my earlobe, and once again, my slacks are way too tight. I mimic her move, shifting close enough to brush my lips across her ear. “That kiss didn’t prove it? Your flushed face and swollen lips sure told a different story.”

Mallory bites her lower lip and tilts her head as if thoughtfully considering my question. But the gleam in her eyes is a dead giveaway. “It was a good start,” she admits, her hand sliding up my inner thigh an inch at a time. “But I’m going to need another one. You know…for confirmation.”

I scoop up her hand before it can reach the steel rod I’m sporting and weave my fingers through hers. “Happy to oblige. Lead the way.”

The booth is narrow, but the bright bulbs around the screen illuminate the space as the maroon velvet curtain falls closed behind us. The close quarters are cozy as we maneuver our bodies to settle in. There’s probably enough room for Mallory to squeeze next to me on the bench, but when I take a seat and pat my thigh, she doesn’t think twice.

But she does perch on the edge, gingerly, as if my knee is an armrest, and she’s hesitant to plant herself too firmly. After that kiss we shared earlier, I don’t share her reserve. With a hand on each hip, I tug her farther back, the satin of her dress sliding easily until she comes to rest on the thick of my thigh.

Her ass fits perfectly, tucked against me. Until she wriggles and peeks down at me with a playful smile.

Vixen.

Her chest is conveniently mere inches from my face, and I grit my teeth and force my eyes up to her face. “If there wasn’t a line of folks outside waiting for a turn in here,” I tell her, my voice thick with restraint, “I’d have no trouble proving I’m good with my tongue. Again.”

“Then you’d best be getting on with those insightful words of wisdom, don’t you think?”

“I do.”

She spins to face the small hole where the camera lens is visible, along with the screen where we can see ourselves reflected.

“Ready?” I ask as she tucks a few tendrils of hair, which have escaped from her updo, behind her ear.

“Ready.”

I take a deep breath and clear my throat, ready to wish Sawyer and Kelsie the best by confessing the truth.

Mallory

Solemn isn’t the word I’d use to describe Carson as he records his video to Sawyer and Kelsie. More like sincere or genuine or even…heartfelt. But it’s not just the tenor of his voice that hits me deep in the chest. It’s his words.

After expressing how he couldn’t be happier for the newlyweds, he dips his chin and then, still staring straight ahead, somehow seems to look directly at me as he admits that, for the first time ever, he’s jealous of the happy couple’s loving and committed relationship.

His body tenses as the words emerge. The muscles surrounding me go rigid. My heart thumps double time in my chest. But surely, his earnest demeanor, as serious as I’ve seen him, is thanks to our bet. No doubt Carson’s working hard to hold it together because of what’s at stake and not—in any way, shape, or form—because what he’s saying is actually true.

And even if it was, it wouldn’t change the fact he’s press and I’m PR.

A few seconds later, he wraps up, wishing Kelsie and Sawyer a long and happy marriage, and winning the bet. It makes me squirm with anticipation. Until he invites me to share any advice. I’m caught off guard, so distracted by his message and the ache in my low belly I haven’t given a thought to what I might say, so I reach for the first thing that pops into my mind.

“Congratulations, you two,” I say, smiling toward the camera. “Everything today has been picture perfect and beautiful, just like the two of you, individually and especially together. Although I don’t have experience being married, or even in a long-term relationship, for that matter, what I wish for you is that you always remain as close as you are today and never let anyone or anything come between you.”

Carson reaches forward to stop the video. “Well said.”

“Ditto,” I reply, determined to draw out his playful side again. The side that doesn’t make me wish, for just a minute, that he’s not the Carson Bennett, but simply a man I met at a wedding. And fell for.

“Up for more pictures?” I ask, my finger hovering over the PHOTOS button below the video recording one.

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