Michael (Wild Men #8)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

I watch as Mitchell leads Emery away from me and over to a table. He holds out her chair for her, and she sits down.

I clench my jaw. I guess it wasn’t meant to be after all.

I force my gaze away from them and back to Emily, who’s in the middle of some story about the last blind date she was on.

“My friends always want to set me up,” she says. “And whoever the guy is, he and I just don’t click.”

My gaze wanders back to Emery as I hear her say something to Mitch or whatever the hell his name is.

She smiles, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

Emery

Mitchell mentions he’s a former bronc rider, and everything clicks into place.

Michael is not Mitchell, the name Alyssa gave me. I messed that up. And Mitchell is a rodeo guy, exactly what I thought she had said .

My actual blind date is the guy sitting across from me, not the grumpy, hot, intriguing man currently hanging with the blonde up at the bar. Michael is nodding at something his date is saying. He’s not touching her, and his posture is stiff like he’s tense. He’s leaning away from her rather than in close like he did with me. I force my gaze back to Mitchell, who just asked me a question I completely missed.

He’s attractive with neatly cut blond hair and brown eyes that look directly at me, not above my head or at some other woman passing by.

But the longer we sit at the table, going through the motions of ordering a drink and then making idle chit-chat, the more certain I feel that this isn’t where I want to be. Or, more specifically, who I want to be with.

“Is everything all right?” Mitchell asks.

“Of course.” I force my gaze back to him from where I’d again been checking out Michael and trying to decipher how into his date he is. “Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re still staring at the guy you were with when I found you at the bar.”

He smirks at me, and I exhale.

“I’m so sorry. You deserve a better blind date than I’m going to be tonight. I’m kind of a mess, to be honest.”

He jerks his thumb backward in the direction of Michael. “Is that guy the reason?”

I must reveal something on my face because he grins. “Thought so.” He immediately pushes back his chair and stands up. “Let’s go.”

I stand up automatically. “Where are we going?”

“To fix this.” He guides me toward the bar. “You came out tonight for a blind date. Looks like you found one. He just wasn’t me.”

I suck in a breath. He’s right .

I turn to look for Michael, but he’s off his stool and heading our way.

His date waves at me from the bar and gives me the thumbs-up.

“Hey,” Michael says as he reaches us. His fathomless dark eyes flick to me. “I don’t want to interrupt, but…”

Mitchell steps back. “Have a good night, you two.”

Michael nods at Mitchell. “Hope you don’t mind if I steal your date.”

Mitchell shakes his head. “Not at all.” He smiles at me. “It was nice to meet you, Emery. I’ll be sure to tell Alyssa absolutely nothing.”

I smile. “You can tell her. She’s going to find out anyway from me, and I’m sure she’ll get a good laugh out of the whole fiasco.”

Once we’re alone, Michael leans in, and a shiver runs through me at the feel of his body heat. “I couldn’t let you go that easily, Emery Walker.”

We leave the bar together, and I take my car and follow Michael in his truck to Wild Ranch.

When he reaches the guest cabins, he pulls into one a few doors down from mine. Wild Ranch has multiple guest cabins, some remote and others, like this group, are set back from the main house but clustered together.

By the time I get out of my car, he’s already walking toward me.

“It’s amazing that, even if we didn’t meet tonight, I could have met you here,” I say to him.

“It is,” he agrees. “You want to sit by the bonfire up at the main house?”

“That’s not for guests,” I say .

“I know. But you’re with me.” He reaches out his hand, and I take it.

His hand is strong and calloused and masculine. I have sudden visions of those fingers of his touching me in other places. His rough pads between my thighs…I barely suppress a gasp.

The night breeze is cool, but the fire is warm. Michael ushers me onto the thick cushions of the outdoor couch and he sinks down next to me.

“So what brings you to Wild Ranch?” I ask him. “A vacation?”

Under the light of the flames from the fire, I watch as his eyes flash with pain. He opens his mouth like he’s going to speak, but then he shuts it.

“That was a nosy question,” I say quickly.

“No,” he says just as quickly. “It wasn’t. The story isn’t that interesting. But it’s still raw.”

I take a long look at him. “I get it.” Because I do. “I tend to open my mouth and reveal the most personal things. But I admire those who don’t.”

Underneath the dark Montana sky littered with stars, we stare at each other. “Maybe I’ve been doing this all wrong. My work is intense, and I don’t often take the time to just…be.” His arm goes around me. “Tonight with you feels like the first time I’ve relaxed in years.”

I snuggle into his side. “I’m glad. I’ve had fun with you. I was honestly just hoping my blind date would be a good guy I may want to sleep with.” Shit, why did I say that out loud? “I mean, forget that last part. It sounded needy.”

His arm tightens around me, and his fingers play with the hem of my shirt. “It didn’t sound like anything other than honest. Which I appreciate. And just so you know, I was also hoping I’d hit it off with my blind date.”

“You were? ”

“I was. Although I never expected you, Emery. You’re the first woman I’ve ever been on a date with where I know I want a second date. And a third.”

I turn to face him. His dark eyes are warm and open, but I also recognize the undisguised heat.

And then, he does what I’ve been dying for since I barreled into him yesterday—he kisses me.

His lips slant over mine, softly at first, and then with more urgency. He angles my jaw with his fingers so he can gain better access to my mouth, and I open for him eagerly. As his tongue slides between my lips, my entire body lights up.

“Emery,” he murmurs as he slides his hand up my torso and his fingers graze the underside of my breast.

We’re in a full-on make-out session when I hear, “Well, well. I see the date was a success.”

I jerk my head back as Michael groans.

“Go away, Luke,” he says in an irritated tone.

Luke Wild, whom I met briefly yesterday when I checked in, chuckles. He’s another handsome Wild man with dark hair and an amazing body.

I wave at him. And that’s when he furrows his brow.

“You’re not Emily.”

“Nope. I’m Emery. I checked in yesterday,” I say with a smile.

“I remember. And now I’m confused.” He turns to Michael. “Did you show up for your blind date? You know, the one I set up for you?”

“I showed up.”

“So how…” Luke gestures between Michael and me. “How did you two end up together?”

“Everything is fine,” Michael says. “Text Emily if you want to hear what happened. It’s a long story.”

Luke’s already walking away. He puts up his hand in a wave. “I’ll let you fill me in tomorrow,” he says. “Have fun, you two.”

Michael turns to me. “I’m sorry about my nosy-ass cousin.”

I laugh. “Maybe we should go somewhere private. I don’t want to disrupt the hosts.”

“We can go to my cabin if you’re okay with that.”

I am so okay with that. “Sure,” I say in what I hope isn’t a squealing-with-excitement-and-lust kind of tone. “That would be nice.”

He puts his arm around me as we start walking back toward the cabins. “You and I never said the names of our friends who set us up, did we?”

“I guess not. I didn’t put it together that one of your cousins set you up. That probably would have clarified how we’d jumbled things.”

“Most likely.” He leans in and nuzzles my cheek. “Although you know what I think?” His whisper is a promise in my ear, and I shiver.

“What?”

“I think we didn’t want to figure out the mix-up,” he says. “Because then, we might not have started talking at the bar.”

“True.” I twist my neck and look up at him as he puts his hand on the small of my back and guides me around the bend in the tree-lined path. “But I disagree with you on that last part. I think we were supposed to be together tonight. I like to believe in fate.”

“I never was one for things like fate.”

“You’re too logical for that?”

“I’m too pessimistic. But tonight did feel…I don’t know, it felt…” He trails off, and I hear the hesitation in his voice.

I laugh. “It felt like we were destined to meet.”

“Maybe. For me, I felt hopeful for the first time in a long while.” His hand on my back is hot, and I swallow down my urging to ask him to take me right here in the middle of the public walkway.

“Hopeful?”

“Yeah. The second you walked through the door of the bar,” he says, “I had hope.”

Hope .

The word gives me chills.

“What did you hope?” My voice is so quiet I’m not sure he heard me, and he doesn’t answer right away.

But as we reach his cabin and he unlocks the door, Michael says in a low tone, “I hoped you were there for me. I hoped you were my date. To be honest, as soon as you walked away from me outside the coffee shop, I wanted you back, Emery.”

He leans down, and his lips brush mine.

I look into his dark eyes, and the constant current between us sparks into full-on flames.

I drag him into the cabin, and we’ve barely shut the door when he cages me against it. His mouth lands on mine, hard and urgent, and I let out a moan as he steps into me, his thick length pressing against my stomach. Desperate for the friction, I shift closer to him. He shoves his thigh between my legs and cups my ass as I grind against him.

I tug at his shirt until I can reach his hot skin underneath.

Oh, Jesus, he’s built. His abs are flat planes of hard muscle, and I push at his shirt until he gets the hint and pulls it over his head in one swift motion.

That’s when I see the anchor tattooed in beautiful ink on his chest.

I run my fingers over it. The thought crosses my mind that this is another sign of destiny—he and I both have anchor tattoos—what are the odds?

His shudder as I touch the tattoo tells me this is a symbol of deep significance to him .

But I also sense that’s a story for another time. I trail my fingers down his chest until I reach his abs.

He slides his hand up my leg until he’s underneath my miniskirt. His fingers travel to the elastic lace of my panties, and he slips one finger inside until he reaches my wet core.

I’m writhing so much Michael has to use his other hand to keep me upright.

“I’ve got you,” he says in a gentle tone, and it feels like his words mean so much more than just this moment.

He strokes inside me, and within seconds, I go over the edge, calling out his name like a prayer.

Before I’ve returned to earth, he picks me up around the waist, and I wrap my legs around him as he carries me to the bedroom.