It Started with a Bang by Piper James

Chapter Eighteen

Ryder

“You’re getting married tomorrow, bro. Shouldn’t we be out hiring strippers for your bachelor party, or something?”

“Real classy, Noah,” Chase said before I could come up with an appropriate response.

“Hey, Ryder’s the one headed to The Chapel of Love to say fake vows in front of Fake Elvis,” Noah shot back. “There’s nothing classy about this whole situation.”

I shoved my brother, hard, and he barely managed to land on his feet after falling from the front porch of the ranch house. I’d been helping him pull up the rotting boards, so there was very little porch left to stand on in the first place.

“When are you leaving?” Ethan asked, wiping the sweat from his brow as he joined us.

“Belle texted me this morning. She got us on a flight this afternoon.”

“Are you sure you really want to do this? Is the money really worth it?” he asked, peering at me with those piercing blue eyes of his.

Noah always claimed Ethan’s eyes could see straight into a man’s soul. Out of the four of us, he’d been the only one to inherit our grandfather’s light eyes. The rest of us had taken after our parents, our eye color ranging between Mom’s amber gaze and Dad’s darker shade.

I was beginning to think Noah might’ve been on to something, because the longer Ethan stared at me, the stronger the urge became to spill my guts.

“You know it’s not about the money,” I said. “I feel…protective of her, especially after meeting her jackass of a father. I want to help her.”

“I thought you didn’t even like her?” Chase asked, cocking his head to study me.

I jumped down from what was left of the porch to join them on the ground. I tried to keep my face impassive as memories of that kiss in the ocean assailed me. The taste of saltwater on her lips. The feel of her legs wrapped around me as she rubbed herself against my cock.

As I forcibly pushed those memories aside, others took their place. Her valiant effort to hide her hurt when her father insulted her. Her joy when she saw how much I liked her dog. Watching her dance in the kitchen.

The look on her face when she saw the ring I bought her.

Oh, I liked her, alright. But I could never admit that to these three, or I’d never hear the end of it.

“Oh, my God,” Noah shouted, laughter bursting out of him. “Classic. You have a crush on your future wife!”

“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” I growled, but my words only made him laugh harder.

I looked to Chase for help, but he only gave me a knowing smile. Rolling my eyes, I turned to Ethan, who was studying me with those damn soul-spearing eyes of his.

“Fuck you guys. I’m out,” I said, throwing my hands in the air as I stomped away.

“Ah, come on, Ryder. Don’t be like that,” Chase called out to my retreating back.

“Congratulations and best wishes,” Noah yelled, giving me a long-armed wave.

“Is he taking the truck?” Ethan asked as I pulled the keys from my pocket and leapt up into the cab.

“Good luck finding a way back into town, fuckers!” I shouted before slamming the door closed.

Daniel was at a kids’ day camp for the day, or I never would’ve left them out here without a ride. But those three could suck it while they waited for Red River’s single Uber driver to drag his ass off his couch and show up at the ranch.

I knew I was being childish and defensive because they were right. I did have a crush on my fiancée.

And while I might have admitted it to myself, I wasn’t ready to admit it to anyone else.

And I had no idea how I was going to make it an entire year without doing something about it.

* * *

“Ooh, first class. Nice,”I gushed, though it was obvious I was being facetious.

“I could’ve booked the company jet if I’d known this isn’t good enough for you,” Belle shot back, buckling her seatbelt and settling into her seat.

“Seriously? You own a jet?” I asked, leaning back into my own plush seat.

All joking aside, first class was the only way to fly commercial. With my long legs, I always cramped up anytime I had to fly coach. I always sprang for the upgrade whenever possible, but Belle didn’t know that.

“My dad owns a jet,” she clarified. “And I bought these tickets as a compromise. I thought you’d be more comfortable flying commercial.”

“And you didn’t want Jaxson knowing what you were up to,” I said, and one corner of her mouth lifted.

“That, too,” she conceded.

Of its own volition, my hand covered hers where it lay on the armrest between us. “I was joking. This is really nice.”

She inhaled sharply, making me flinch. Okay. No touching. I started to pull my hand away, but Belle had other ideas.

She flipped her hand over, sliding her fingers between mine and clamping down. I stared at our joined hands, unsure what to think as I tightened my own grip. Her warm palm pressed against mine, and it felt…good.

I looked up from our hands to Belle’s profile. She was staring out the window, her chest rising and falling a little quicker than usual. Her blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail, baring the skin of her neck. I stared at the column, feeling a sudden urge to lean over and press my lips to the sensitive skin there.

Then it hit me—this was all for show. We might’ve been seated in first class, but we were on a public airplane, eloping to Las Vegas. Of course, we’d be holding hands. If anyone were to recall seeing us on the flight once the news breaks of our wedding, we’d want them to remember us looking totally in love.

I told myself it was to that end when I lifted our joined hands. Flipping them over, I pressed my mouth to the back of Belle’s in a lingering kiss. Her head whipped toward me, her eyes flaring wide as a blush stained her cheeks.

Then a devil jumped inside me, and I covertly brushed the tip of my tongue against the skin of her hand before pulling it away. Belle’s breath shuddered out of her, her grip on me tightening as she crossed one leg over the other, squeezing her thighs tightly together.

Wait. Wait. Wait.

I’d only been teasing her, but…was she actually turned on? Just the mere idea had all my motors running. Ideas of tiny airplane bathrooms and Mile High Club memberships raced through my brain, but luckily, before my mouth could voice those ideas, the pilot announced over the loud speaker that we were preparing to make our descent into Las Vegas.

I came back to my senses, realizing I was probably just seeing what I wanted to see. Annabelle Parker was not turned on by a mere touch. She wasn’t turned on by me, at all. I was a means to an end. A resolution to the conflict she had with her father. Nothing more, nothing less.

And I really, really needed to remember that.