It Started with a Bang by Piper James

Chapter Four

Ryder

“Are you high?”

“Excuse me?” she shot back, a palm flying to her chest.

“How many of those have you had tonight?” I asked, pointing the neck of my beer bottle toward the glass clutched in her thin, tanned fingers.

“This is my second one, and I don’t do drugs,” she said, lifting her nose in the air as if I’d offended her.

“No offense, lady, but you’ve got to be on something. Bath salts? Laundry pods?”

I knew I was being an ass, but I couldn’t help it. She was obviously out of her mind. Who walks up to a stranger and offers them a million bucks to get married? Not sex. Not companionship. Marriage. It was ridiculous.

“It’s Annabelle,” she growled, “not lady. And if you have to preface a statement with ‘no offense,’ it usually means you’re being offensive.”

She lifted her glass, draining her drink in one long swallow without taking a breath. Impressive. I studied her profile as she waved down the bartender, signaling for another. If she wasn’t drunk already, she soon would be.

“How did you expect me to react?” I asked, tilting my head to study her.

“I don’t know,” she said, taking her drink from the bartender before handing over a black credit card. “Start a tab and put his drinks on it.”

“That’s not necessary,” I said, but Annabelle ignored me, giving the bartender a firm nod.

“Mr. Perry—”

“Ryder,” I cut in, correcting her.

“Ryder,” she said slowly like she was examining the feel of my name on her tongue. “I know this is…unorthodox, to say the least, but I’m desperate.”

“Obviously,” I shot back, arching a brow. “A million bucks is a lot of money.”

She shrugged, giving a little shake of her head like she’d offered me a hundred dollars, not a million. I was pretty well off thanks to the business and some good investments, but her casual attitude about handing over that much money was a bit mind-boggling. Exactly how rich was she?

I mentally shook myself. It didn’t matter. There was no way in hell I was taking her up on this deal. It was ludicrous.

“Listen,” she said as if she’d read my mind. “I know this sounds insane, but I have my reasons. And it’s a win-win. I’d get what I need, and you’d be rich. And it wouldn’t be forever. Maybe six months. Or a year? I don’t know. I haven’t really worked out the details yet.”

“So, this was a spur of the moment decision?” I asked, motioning between us.

“Kind of,” she admitted with a pretty blush that stained her sun-kissed cheeks.

With that, she chugged half her drink before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Yep. Definitely well on her way to Drunksville. I decided to humor her for a while. If nothing else, it would be entertaining.

“So, what would this marriage entail?” I asked, sipping my beer.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Well, obviously, we’d have to live together if we’re married,” I said, using my fingers as air quotes as I said that last word.

“Obviously,” she said, though the look in her eyes was a bit startled.

She really hadn’t thought this through at all. I watched her as her eyes went a little vacant like she was lost in thought. Imagining sharing a home with a complete stranger, no doubt. A stranger she didn’t even like.

“And I’ve only been in town for a week,” I added. “How are you going to explain such a hurried wedding? Are you pregnant?”

I asked the question rhetorically, but after the words slipped out, I began to wonder. Was she pregnant? It would explain the need for a fake husband if she wanted to save face in a small community like Red River.

“What? No,” she barked. “I am not pregnant. And I travel to L.A. for business meetings several times a year. We could say we’ve been dating secretly for months, if we feel like we have to explain it at all.”

“And I just so happen to have inherited a ranch in the very town you live in? Yeah. That’s believable,” I quipped.

“You did! It’s such a small world. And after we started dating, you decided to come restore the property just to be closer to me,” she countered with a fair amount of forced enthusiasm.

“What about sex?” I asked, and the fake smile dropped from her face.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Sex,” I said, one corner of my mouth lifting. “Married people usually have lots of it, at least in the beginning.”

“No,” she said quickly, her face paling. “I have plenty of room at my house. There’d be no reason to share a bedroom.”

“What about in public?” I asked.

“You’d want to have sex in public?” she gasped, looking truly mortified.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “As tantalizing as that sounds, no. I was asking how you’d expect us to behave in public. We’d have to be affectionate, of course. Holding hands, hugging…kissing. Maybe we should try it first to make sure we could even appear compatible before going all in.”

I was humoring her, throwing out these outlandish suggestions to see just how far she’d go to get what she wanted. I braced myself for the slew of insults I was sure she wanted to hurl in my direction. I wouldn’t even be surprised if she cracked her palm against my cheek.

Her blue eyes widened at the suggestion, but only for a second before she smoothed out her expression. Picking up her whiskey sour, she drained it before sliding off her stool. She moved in, sliding her fingers into my hair as she stepped in between my spread legs. Her pink tongue darted out, wetting her plump lips as she brought her face close to mine.

My breath lodged in my throat as my body froze. Using her grip on my hair, she tilted my head and pressed her mouth to mine.

Velvet fire, her lips seared mine with the perfect amount of pressure and heat. She sucked my bottom lip into her mouth, biting it before soothing the spot with her tongue. My body sprung to life at the sting, my hands finding her hips to pull her closer as my tongue swept into her mouth. A soft growl vibrated in her chest as her tongue chased mine, setting my nerves on fire.

She jerked away, putting some space between us as her chest heaved with each labored breath. Cold reality washed over me—where we were. Who I was. Who she was. And the near-painful throb of my cock as it demanded more.

“Think about it,” she said, still panting lightly. “I’ll be in touch.”

She turned and walked away. After a brief stop at the opposite end of the bar to pay our tab and retrieve her credit card, she headed for the exit without sparing me a single glance. I continued to stare at the closed door long after she left.

“Fuck me,” I murmured, shaking my head as I chugged the rest of my beer.

That was…surprising. And if I was being honest with myself, not entirely unpleasant.

Shit, who was I kidding? I was sporting major wood, fighting the urge to chase after her and finish what she started. But I kept my ass firmly planted on that stool until I was sure she was really gone.

Anabelle Parker was something else. Beautiful. Smart. Sexy as hell. But she was also a spoiled, privileged brat. And obviously nuts.

“Marry her?” I mumbled as I finally slid off the stool and headed for the exit.

Not for a million bucks.