Kimberly Raye

The Braddock Boys: Travis


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red number with lips to match. There were plenty. All his for the taking.

      All except for Holly Simms.

      The thought struck and he signaled for another beer. She was just one woman, he reminded himself. A damned infuriating one at that since she didn’t seem susceptible to his vamp charisma. No falling into his arms or rubbing her soft curves up against him. Nothing. Just that crazy disbelief.

      As if his thoughts had conjured her, she rushed around the bandstand toward the pale looking man who’d just taken his place behind a large mixing board. Static cracked open the steady chatter of guests and in a split-second, a slow, twangy Jason Aldean song spilled from the speakers.

      Jason sang about big green tractors and taking a ride, and relief seeped into Holly’s expression. She actually smiled and his chest hitched. It was the damndest thing, considering his response was always centered below the belt when it came to women.

      He took a swig of his drink and watched as she touched her headset and informed the person on the other end that the music was on and the dancing could commence. Disaster averted. Or so she thought until she got the news that the champagne was missing. Her smile faded in the blink of an eye and he had the sudden insane urge to cross the distance between them, haul her into his arms and do any and everything to bring the smile back to her beautiful face.

      Her tight skirt pushed and pulled, hugging her shapely ass as she made a bee-line for the house. His groin tightened, throbbing to the point that a growl worked its way up his throat.

      She was different, all right.

      But not that different.

      While he hadn’t wowed her with his vampness, he’d still read every thought that had flashed through her pretty blond head. He knew she was sexually frustrated and that she had a thing for cowboys, that she’d been hurt by one. She’d sworn off love and relationships, and had resigned herself to brief, meaningless, one-night stands.

      Exactly what he needed at the moment.

      Not an entire night, mind you. In the deprived state he was in, a good fifteen minutes would do him just fine. He was already this close to the edge. Pain twisted at his gut. His hands trembled. His throat tightened. His fangs tingled.

      Travis downed the last of his drink, set the glass on the bar and went after Holly Simms.

      “I heard the words echo inCAN’T BELIEVE they misplaced the Cristal,” she murmured into her headset as she entered the house through the back kitchen door and glanced frantically around the large room. Platters of food covered every available granite countertop. Boxes sat stacked against the walls and in front of the custom cherry cabinets, but not one had the familiar name she was looking for. “How do you lose ten cases of ultra expensive champagne?”

      “I love Cristal,” Evan declared. “Bob ordered it on our first date. After dinner, we went up to Lucky’s Point and watched the sun set. Say, maybe someone snuck off with the champagne because he wants to propose to his girlfriend. Why, they could be sitting on the tailgate of a pickup truck as we speak, bottles in hand, watching the stars dance across the sky.”

      “Are you on medication?”

      “It’s called love, dearest. In case you’ve forgotten.”

      If only.

      But she remembered all too clearly the pounding heart, the rush of excitement and the pie-in-the-sky notions—

      “The bartender said all ten cases were supposed to be delivered to the bar,” Evan cut in, effectively killing her spiral down memory lane. Thankfully. “I called the delivery service and they said someone in the kitchen signed for it.”

      “Which means it has to be here somewhere.” Holly moved out into the massive hallway and headed for the walk-in pantry a few yards down.

      The Braddock spread was one of the newest and biggest ranches in the area. The house itself was over nine thousand square feet with tons of closets and way too many places to stash several cases of the bride’s favorite beverage.

      “Maybe it’s in the barn,” Evan offered.

      “Who would move it all the way from the kitchen to the barn?”

      “A loony tune who needed more room to craft her masterpieces.” Evan referred to Millicent Dupree, the one and only gourmet chef in Skull Creek, Texas. Millicent was temperamental, stubborn and very focused when it came to her work. “I asked her, but she told me she couldn’t listen because she was in her pigs-in-the-blanket zone. She also said if I bothered her again, she would come after me with a pair of cooking shears.”

      “You check the barn,” Holly told him, “and I’ll look in the house.” She pushed open the door to the walk-in pantry area which rivaled the size of the small bedroom she’d grown up in. A ray of light pushed back the shadows and illuminated stacks of catering boxes, crates of fresh fruit and vegetables, and the empty white boxes that had carried all the petit fours and cheesecakes over from the bakery. Shadows hid the rest and she reached for the light switch.

      She was just about to flip it on when she felt the presence directly behind her.

      “I’ve been looking for you.” The deep, familiar voice slid into her ears and stirred every nerve in her body. And then a hard wall of muscle urged her forward, the door shut and she found herself standing in the darkness with Travis Braddock.

      3

      HE’D PROBABLY GOTTEN lost on the way to the men’s room.

      No way was he in this closet with her on purpose. Because he wanted her and she wanted him and it was meant to be. Definitely a great, big, fat no.

      That’s what she told herself but then he turned her around, his mouth descended on hers and just like that, he was kissing her, his lips covering hers, his tongue thrusting deep. Yes.

      He tasted like cold beer and hot, decadent thoughts and the air stalled in her lungs.

       Stop!

      That’s what her head said.

      Wrong time.

      Wrong place.

      Wrong man.

      If only he hadn’t felt so right. Like a cold drink of water on a blistering hot summer day. She couldn’t help herself. She kissed him back and kept kissing him. Longer. Deeper. His hands were everywhere, trailing down her back, tugging up her skirt.

      It was the best thing that had ever happened to Holly.

      And the worst.

      Not because it was exciting. Heaven knew she needed a little oomph in her life. A little wild, mindless sex with no second thoughts. But it was the worst because she was smack dab in the middle of a wedding reception for two hundred guests. And the champagne was missing. And Evan kept repeating as much over the headset every few seconds, in between humming the tune from “Unchained Melody.” And she was wearing a pair of heavy duty Spanx to keep her tummy flat and her thighs shapely. And it was just too friggin’ dark.

      “Please tell me you found it,” Evan declared.

      She managed to tear her lips away. “Not yet, she gasped, her lungs struggling for air, “but I’m getting warm.” Boy, was she ever.

      A slow, chuckle rumbled over her lips and goose bumps chased up and down her arms.

      Evan’s voice, along with the sound of music and laughter, faded into the sudden pounding of her heart as she became acutely aware of the man standing in front of her, surrounding her. His fingertips seemed to melt through her skirt and the dreaded Lycra smoothing her thighs.

      Okay, so dark was good considering the last thing she wanted was for him to see her struggle out of her modern day version of a girdle. But the thing was, she couldn’t see him.

      And