The Maverick Meets His Match (Hearts of Wyoming Book 2)(32)

Not that he didn’t look good in his tux. He’d drawn the stares of several women in the room when he’d entered. Wasn’t the bride supposed to be the center of attention on her wedding day? Only Mandy wasn’t dressed as a bride, didn’t feel like a bride, didn’t want to be a bride. Well, not today anyway.

“Right, Mandy?” Ty repeated. She felt more pressure from his thigh.

Nudged out of her dismal thoughts, she nodded.

“Say hi to Lyle Thorton. Hear his wife had a bad bout of arthritis after Houston’s rodeo,” Harold said.

Mandy nodded again and took the tiniest piece of lettuce into her mouth, hoping her stomach would accept it.

“I’ll be worried about you up in that plane the whole time you are gone,” Sheila said, taking a sip of the champagne she’d insisted be poured for all of them. Mandy hadn’t touched hers, but maybe she should. If this wasn’t a reason to get drunk, what was?

“It’s the only way we’ll be able to see all the committees we have to see and still make the rodeo in Washington this coming weekend,” Ty said. “Mandy’s not worried, are you?”

Again she lied, nodding even though she was petrified to get into that puddle jumper of his. She’d never seen his plane, but how big could a two-seater prop plane be? This week had been nothing but a nightmare, and it would only get worse. From flying in that plane to introducing Ty as the head of Prescott to sleeping in the same bedroom with the man, her life for the foreseeable future would be nothing but one long bad dream.

But only for six months. And she’d have had to do the first two things regardless. The last had been her choice, and it was too late to second guess her decision now.

Ty reached for his champagne glass, and the sleeve of his black tuxedo softly brushed against her bare arm.

“I’m an experienced pilot, Sheila. I’ll take good care of your daughter.”

Sheila turned to say something to Harold, and Ty leaned toward her, his warm body touching hers, to whisper in her ear. “I’ll take very good care of you, if you let me.” A slow heat spread through her starting at her toes and climbing up her body to nestle right between her thighs. She crossed her legs.

After taking another sip of champagne, Ty set his glass back on the table.

“How difficult is it to fly a plane?” her mother asked.

Mandy reached for her goblet. Maybe the champagne would calm her stomach. Tipping back her glass, she felt the bubbles tickle her lips

“Takes training. Key is knowing the right switches to flip,” Ty said.

The waitress interrupted to check if there was anything they needed.

Ty leaned in again, this time pressing his torso against her as he whispered, “I’d like to flip your switches.”

A flush engulfed her. She had another sip of champagne.

“Dessert, dear?” her mother asked as all eyes, including the waitress’s, turned toward her.

She shook her head.

“Oh, we have to have something,” her mother chided. “They just got married today,” she told the waitress.

The waitress looked from Mandy to Ty—and stayed looking at Ty—as she said her congratulations. Ty did that to women. Attracted them. And she, damn it, was no exception. This time she took a gulp of champagne.

“I’d go for some cake,” Harold spoke up.

“Cake all around. And coffee,” Sheila ordered. “No fuss, though. This is just a celebration for us,” she told the waitress. Looking at Mandy’s barely touched salad and the half-filled glass of champagne, Sheila frowned. “And my daughter’s not finished with her salad yet, so leave that plate,” she said as the busboy the waitress had signaled over began clearing.

“You need to eat something, Mandy. You barely ate breakfast this morning,” Sheila said above the clacking of plates being cleared.

Mandy felt a funny swaying in her head. Maybe she should eat something. “I’ll have the cake.”

From under the table she felt Ty’s hand on her thigh. She should remove it, but the swaying in her head prevented her. She turned to look at him and felt a little dizzy again as she stared into dark lust-filled eyes at odds with his amused grin. Under the table, his hand brushed the hem of her dress up her thigh and then landed back on bare flesh. Her legs uncrossed.

His thumb swirled over her skin, focusing her attention on that spot on her inner thigh, worrying that he would move it even higher. Then what would she do?

“You’re going to love dessert. What follows the main event, Mandy, is always the best part,” he said. The heat flushing through her body had her wondering if he wasn’t right.





*


Married. Certainly not where he had expected to find himself, Ty thought as he gazed into the steamed glass of the bathroom mirror. He wiped off the fog, creating a watery space, and glared at the somber face that stared back at him. What had he been thinking? Problem was, he’d let his dick do his thinking—and that had never worked out well for him.

He and Mandy were sharing a bedroom, like the will said, but not a bed. They’d wrangled over whether to use the ranch house’s guestroom, which Mrs. Jenkins had already made ready for them, with its king-sized bed and its own bathroom situated next to her grandfather’s room, or the smaller bedroom down the hall with twin beds and a bathroom shared with a vacant room on the opposite side.