Hot-Wired / Coming on Strong. Tawny Weber
old out of her mind. “Sara Gastoneau is coming in this morning—”
Natalie’s cell phone interrupted with the instantly recognizable Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Her clients loved that ring tone and so did she. The traditional recessional signaled yet another wedding completed and the start of a new life together as husband and wife. Caller ID flashed Caitlyn Stillwell’s name.
“Natalie! You are such a doll.”
“Hi, Caitlyn,” Natalie said with a smile. Caitlyn Stillwell possessed an infectious enthusiasm. “How’s life on the road and why am I a doll?”
Caitlyn offered a dreamy sigh at the other end. “Life on the road is wonderful…mostly because I’m with Cash. But we’re getting some great video footage.” That had been a biggie among many challenges in planning their wedding. Not only was it on short notice, but the bride-to-be was touring the country by bus with her fiancé and shooting video footage for what they hoped would be a reality show or documentary. Natalie had never planned a wedding before with the bride out of town. “And you’re a doll because I just got off of the phone with Beau. You are the best.”
Why did that have an ominous ring? “I’m glad you think so but I’m not sure I’m following you here.”
“He told me about you helping him out at Belle Terre.”
“No problem.” Sometimes her business called for a little white lie. “I was more than happy to help.” He’d wasted several hours of her time. And sometimes it was a whopping white lie.
“I bet no other wedding planner would do what you’re doing. Even Cash is impressed.”
Yay! This was exactly the response she wanted, exactly what she wanted Caitlyn to put out to the public. Once Caitlyn and Cash were married, Caitlyn would be Nashville royalty.
“That’s why I’m here. I don’t want you stressing about the wedding. I just want you to have fun and look forward to it.”
Caitlyn laughed on the other end. “I’ll admit I was stressing a little over the renovations, but now that you’re personally assisting Beau with the remodel and building…”
What the hell? She wasn’t personally assisting him with anything now that they’d made that list. “He swears he’d never be able to get the project done in time for the wedding if you weren’t willing to come out and help him with the project,” Caitlyn steamed on. “Cash and I think you’re the best.”
She’d already said that once. Natalie forced a smile into her voice, “Well, I’m not sure how much—”
Caitlyn interrupted. “Don’t be modest. Beau said not many professionals would be willing to go that extra mile of meeting him at Belle Terre at six-thirty in the morning and then again in the evenings to work around your other projects. He was impressed with your flexibility.”
“Coming from him that means a lot.” She couldn’t help her dark sarcasm. And it was better than screaming. What was he up to? Because he was definitely up to something. They’d no more discussed her squeezing renovation help into her already packed schedule than she had monkeys flying out her tush. Hel-lo. It was high wedding season. She was busy. But she couldn’t say that to Caitlyn. He’d pretty much manipulated Natalie into a tight spot.
“Hey, can you hold on a minute, Natalie?” On the other end, someone was talking to Caitlyn. “Yeah…Okay…Right…I’m just wrapping up here. Hey, I’m back but I’ve gotta go. Call me if anything else comes up. Otherwise, I’ll talk to you later.”
The phone clicked in Natalie’s ear. She turned to Cynthia, who’d eavesdropped unabashedly. Not that she blamed her for that.
“I guess it would be counterproductive,” Natalie said, “to kill him before the renovation is done and he’s walked her down the aisle, huh?”
It was sheer annoyance at his blatant manipulation that had Natalie’s heart pounding and not the thought of being in close proximity to his wickedly distracting mouth and hands and his big, hard body.
No, that particular thought was responsible for her now-damp panties.
Chapter 6
BEAU WHISTLED UNDER his breath as he made his way back to his truck, satisfied his roofing crew was set on the new subdivision job he’d contracted between Nashville and Dahlia. Urban sprawl was both a bane and a blessing, but right now it was a damn fine morning in Dahlia. The sun was shining, he had jobs lined up in a less-than-stellar economy and he had Natalie Bridges right where he wanted her.
He leaned against the cab of his truck and checked his wristwatch. He’d finished up the conversation with his sister about forty-five minutes ago. He figured he’d get a call anytime now. Actually, depending on how long Caitlyn kept Natalie on the phone, it could be another couple of minutes.
Natalie. Her sweet, hot mouth…her velvet tongue…Classy. Sexy. Fiery. True enough, he’d started out with the intent to shut this wedding down and that remained his primary goal, but he’d discovered two things in the last day. One, he realized he’d never had to chase a woman before. From the earliest time he could remember women just seemed to like him. But Natalie brought out the hunter in him. Two, he wanted her. She’d told him yesterday in no uncertain terms he wasn’t her type. Bullshit. She wouldn’t…couldn’t…kiss him that way if she didn’t want him.
He scrolled through his cell-phone options. Natalie deserved her own ringtone and he deserved to be forewarned when she called. He downloaded and waited.
He didn’t have to wait long. His phone trilled the opening chords of AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell.”
“I just spoke to Caitlyn,” she said without preamble.
A fly buzzed past him and the sounds of the guys hauling up shingle bundles and recounting weekend exploits filled the background. “Great. I’m sure it’s important to stay in close contact when you’re planning her wedding.”
He climbed in the cab of the truck, cutting off the background noise. He could’ve sworn on the drive from his office to the work site that he’d caught the occasional whiff of her scent from last night.
“You know, press-ganged servitude is out of vogue these days. Of course, I have only myself to blame.” She paused and sighed heavily on the other end. “I should’ve never kissed you.”
What angle was she working? Women never regretted kissing him. Quite the opposite, in fact.
“I’ll have to say you’ve lost me there, sweet thing.” He picked up the take-out coffee cup from the dash cup holder. Empty.
“Obviously I drove you beyond the point of desperate when I kissed you,” she announced on a smug note. “It goes without saying I’d never go out with you, so you’ve resorted to manipulating me into indentured servitude.”
She’d never go out with him, as if he were some substandard species? The hell, she said. The hunt was definitely on. He chuckled.
“Indentured servitude?” Well, hell, that just brought a whole bunch of things to mind. Her on her knees in front of him, her mouth on his…a little light bondage with silken cords…“Does that mean you want me to tie you up?”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Well, well, well. She sounded far more breathless than outraged. Just what was going on in her pretty little head? “And can you say sexual harassment?”
No. And neither could she. “Am I writing your paycheck, baby? Do I have the authority to fire or promote you? Think again. If you find yourself all tied up, it’s strictly because that’s what you want.”
“I think you have a pretty accurate idea of what I want right now and it’s not that.” No man with a brain would trust that sweet note.
“I’m certain I know what you