Tags:
Chick lit,
Contemporary Romance,
Romantic Comedy,
cowboy,
millionaire,
Food,
nashville,
country music,
southern romance,
bake,
cook
warning, the bus started moving. She wove at the sudden movement. With increasing dread, she found her room and shut the door, flipping the lock for good measure. She tapped her forehead against the wood of the door.
Why did she feel like tonight’s hot tub craziness was only the beginning?
She’d made a pact with a devil—a crazy devil—and now she’d have to cook for him in country hell.
What had she gotten herself into?
***
Rye was tugging on a shirt when Clayton opened his bedroom door. He closed it, leaning against the wood with crossed arms in that insolent stance he’d perfected their first year together at Vanderbilt University when they were both barely eighteen.
“We’re moving. How’d you get back on?” he asked.
“I called Bill to let me on at a stop sign. I’ve got five minutes to get back on my bus before we get on the interstate.”
Since he felt a lecture coming on, Rye picked up his beer. “Pretty blond, huh?”
Clayton rubbed the red mark on his cheek. “What were you thinking?”
The beer was lukewarm. Rye didn’t want to drink it, but he wanted something to do with his hands. “I was thinking she was hot.”
“Bullshit. You were playacting for your new cook,” Clayton growled. “A girl next door with her kind of background? She’s the perfect way for you to restore your image, and you just gave her cold feet.”
Yeah, because her dark–smudged green eyes had made him feel a hint of responsibility for her, so not his speed. Rye took a sip of the beer for show. “No worries. I’ll sue her if she breaks her contract.” It was a joke. Mostly.
Clayton shoved away from the door and took a step closer to Rye. “You’ll what?” He stopped in front of his friend and crossed his arms again. “Look, I know you’re still upset about Amelia Ann, but you have to think about your career. Stunts like this are dangerous after what happened in Nashville. If that blond decides to tell all to some tabloid or someone got a picture of her running naked off your bus, we could be in big trouble. That’s certainly not a family values picture.”
He was so goddamned sick of being reminded of what a screw up he was. “You forgetting who’s boss here?” he asked, setting the beer aside.
Clayton pulled off his hat and slapped it against his jeans, the sound like a crack of thunder. “You planning on throwing away a twelve–year friendship right now? Seems to me you need all the friends you got.”
Rye casually reached for a mint from the crystal bowl on his dresser, his hand shaking a little from the realization that he’d gone too far. “Shit. Come on, man. I didn’t mean that. I’m just tired…”
“So are the rest of us! Do you think you’re the only one under pressure here? Look, I’m saying this for your own good. You’d better start acting right or everything you’ve worked for— we’ve worked for—will go up in smoke.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Do you want your family to have the last laugh?”
Not in a million years. Rye popped the mint in his mouth and bit into it hard enough to make his teeth hurt. “That’s below the belt.”
Clayton shook his head. “Listen. You need to shape up and execute that brilliant plan you thought up tonight. Tory is perfect for improving your image. Wholesome.”
Hadn’t he had the same realization in Diner Heaven? But now he wasn’t nearly as certain he’d made the right decision. Tory seemed like a nice woman, and it would be wrong to use her.
“She admitted to being a prude,” he remarked.
“Good. We need more family values around here.”
“Fine, we’ll show my good side to the world by helping her, but I don’t like Georgia’s idea.”
“Too damned bad. It’s genius. If we make it look like you’re involved with her, people will think you’re settling down a bit, maybe thinking about having a family. It’ll look like you actually like kids.”
“Jesus, it sounds like you want me to marry