"You're dating Bash Palmer? My dad knows him. He is so hot."
Chelsea rolled her eyes at the barrage of questions from the girls. "He's not my boyfriend. We're just friends."
Vivian, one of the co-captains of the cheer squad, jutted her hip out and laid her hand there. "Seriously? How could you be just friends with a smokin' hot dude like that?"
"Easy. I've known him since I was on the cheer squad here at Hope High. And as you know, that was a very long time ago."
Vivian sighed. "Still, he's pretty fresh for an old dude."
Chelsea laughed. "I'll be sure to tell him that."
After practice ended, she went home and changed into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved top, then slid on a pair of wedges. She checked herself out in the mirror and decided she looked pretty good. After all, it wasn't a date, and Bash was probably just taking her to Bert's diner for dinner anyway.
She saw him pull into the parking lot of her apartment complex, so she grabbed her jacket and purse and headed outside.
"I was planning to park and come to your door," he said, giving her a look of displeasure after she climbed inside his truck.
"No need. It's not like we're dating, Bash. Besides, I'm hungry."
He laughed. "Okay. Let's feed you."
He surprised her by taking her to the Italian restaurant in town instead of Bert's. The place had opened last year and was always packed, mainly because the food was amazing and the service was awesome. It was a family-owned restaurant, and Chelsea sometimes stopped in for some great home-cooked pasta.
They had to wait a few minutes for their table, but she didn't mind at all. She had a chance to stop and talk to the parents of one of her students, much to the student's embarrassment, since he was also there. But the parents were eager to know how their son was doing in her math class, so she took the opportunity to update them.
When the waitress sat them at their table, Bash smiled at her. "I'll bet you get that a lot."
She looked up from her menu. "Get what a lot?"
"Running into either students or parents when you're out."
"Oh. Yes. The drawback of teaching in a small town. So much fun when I run into a student--or their parents--when I'm wearing no makeup, sweaty, and just ran two miles on the track at the gym."
"I can imagine. There's just nowhere to hide around here."
"Not for me. Most of the kids I teach have worked at the grocery store, too. Try having a kid you just gave a C minus to smirk at you when you're buying tampons."
He laughed. "Every woman buys them. It's not like it's a secret, Chelsea."
"Tell that to a fifteen-year-old boy. I don't know which of us was more embarrassed. I guess him, because he had to put the box in the grocery bag."
"Scarred him for life, did you?"
"You'd think so. It's a good thing I wasn't buying condoms, too."
He feigned a look of shock and clutched his chest. "Why, Miss Gardner. You aren't trying to tell me you have an active sex life, too."
"I'd like to. Which is why I keep a supply of condoms around."
"It's good to be prepared, just in case that perfect man shows up."
She nodded. "Exactly."
The waitress brought their salads, and they dug in to eat.
"I'm still working on that, you know."
She looked up. "On what?"
"Your list. And a guy for you."
"Oh. Thank you. I'm sure he's out there somewhere."
"I'm sure he is, too. In the meantime, if you need someone to get you through that supply of condoms before their expiration date, I'm happy to help you out."
She choked out a laugh. "Wow, Bash. That's awfully generous of you."
He waggled his brows. "I'm a generous kind of guy."
"Such a sacrifice for you, too."
He gave her a smoldering-hot look that made her forget all about how hungry she was, and directed that hunger in a new, more interesting direction.
"Believe me, Chelsea. There'd be no sacrifice involved. And I wasn't exactly kidding."
She laid her fork down. "You're offering me sex."
He shrugged. "Why not?"
Just looking at him tempted her, though she should be highly offended.
She paused, waiting to feel insulted. It didn't happen. Maybe because it had been so long since she'd had actual sex that the offer appealed.
Bash definitely appealed. She hadn't exactly forgotten his kiss or the way his hands felt on her.
But ... no. Not a good idea. For ... reasons.
"Thanks, but I think I'll hold out awhile longer."
His lips curved, and she had a sudden urge to repeat that kiss and see if it would be as hot as it had been the first time.
"Offer stands. Anytime."
"Thanks."
But that anytime wasn't going to happen. Not with Bash. She was going to stand firm and wait for Mr. Perfect. She had a feeling he was out there, and it was going to happen for her.
Soon.
Chapter 8
"Are you picking me up, or am I driving today?" Jane asked when she called Chelsea that afternoon a week after her impromptu non-date with Bash.
A non-date that had her thinking a lot more about Bash than she ever wanted to. Especially since he'd offered to be her sex stud. She'd definitely spent a lot of nights tossing and turning, with sex on her mind. And Bash on her mind, mixed with sex. Which had made sleep a lot more elusive. And made her even more resolved to find Mr. Perfect. A Mr. Perfect she could have mind-blowing sex with, so she could stop thinking about Bash.
"You have the monster minivan, with more storage space for the dresses," Chelsea said to her. "So you're driving."
"I'll pick you up at about six. Then we'll swing by and get Emma."
"Okay. See you then. I can't wait."
She hung up, then sat at the table to work on grading papers for a while until it was time to get ready. She went into the bedroom to fix her hair, put on makeup, and change clothes, selecting an easy-to-get-into-and-out-of dress and the appropriately sized heels. Since it was a little cool today, April being unpredictable in Oklahoma, she grabbed a sweater and went back in the kitchen, where she spied her notebook. She'd been so busy this past week she hadn't had time to focus on her list, or on what she was going to do about it. She flipped it open and stared at the list for the first time in a week.
"Yes, still perfect."
Just like the man who was going to tick off every item on that list.
As soon as she found him.
Though, considering her dating history, she had no idea where the mystery man who met all her criteria was going to materialize from. But she refused to give up hope.
He was out there--somewhere. And all her thoughts about Bash--the wrong man--made her want the right man even more.
She pulled lip gloss out of her purse, opened her compact and applied it, then looked out the window to see Jane pulling up in the parking lot. She headed downstairs and climbed into the backseat of the minivan.
"Are we ready for this?" Chelsea asked Jane and Emma.
"I know I am," Emma said. "The question is, is Des ready?"
Chelsea grinned. "You know she is. I'm so excited for her."
The drive to Tulsa took about twenty minutes. They pulled into the parking lot, climbed out, and headed into the bridal salon.
As they expected, everyone inside was already gathered in the back of the shop. It wasn't every day that a bridal salon received a movie star like Desiree Jenkins. Until last year, none of them had even known Des. Chelsea couldn't believe this was happening already. They'd been so lucky to meet Des when she'd filmed a movie on Logan McCormack's ranch. And even more fortunate to witness Des and Logan falling in love. Getting to know Des had been so much more than getting to know a movie star. She was down-to-earth, fun, and just like the rest of them--a real person.
They all loved her like she'd lived there forever.
And now Des and Logan were getting marrie
d. Fun stuff.
And while Des hadn't bought her dress at the bridal salon, she was getting her final alterations at their shop, something the salon had readily agreed to. Plus, the bridesmaids were doing their final fittings at the shop as well.
It was a week before the wedding, and Chelsea couldn't wait.
She loved weddings. She hoped to have her own someday.
Of course, that meant finding the right man--something she had yet to do.
Her list was a good first step.
Des walked out of the back room. She wore jeans, a long-sleeved flannel shirt, and high-top tennis shoes, and her hair was tucked under a ball cap.
In other words, she looked nothing like a glamorous movie star.
"You look like a truck driver, Des," Emma said.
Des laughed and pulled the ball cap off, her long raven hair spilling out from under it. "I'm traveling incognito today."
"Hiding from the paparazzi again?" Chelsea asked as they handed off their dresses to one of the salon assistants and made their way toward Des.
"Yes."
"Do you really think you're going to be able to pull off this wedding without the press knowing about it?"
Des took a seat in one of the chairs. "Currently, Amelia, my stand-in, who looks uncannily like me, is having the vacation of her life at a private villa in Tuscany--with my compliments and on my dime. And she just happens to be there with her boyfriend, Max, a stuntman who resembles Logan. Plus, a very prominent member of the press who's a good friend might be leaking details that Logan and I were spotted at a private villa in Tuscany. In return he'll attend our wedding, and he'll get an exclusive interview and photos of the real thing. Anyway, the fake story should put the press hounds on the Italian wedding scent."
Emma laughed. "You've thought of everything, haven't you?"
Des beamed an angelic smile. "I've tried to. At the very least, I don't think anyone's going to be looking for Logan and me to be getting married on the ranch next weekend."
"I don't think so, either. I think they'd expect something splashier," Chelsea said.
"Yes. Like a villa in Tuscany. Plus, we're keeping the wedding low-key. A few of my Hollywood friends are invited, plus our friends here, and my parents and brother and sister are flying in. Otherwise, not a big deal. At least not by Hollywood standards."
"But by Hope standards?" Jane said. "This is going to be a major spring event."
Des took in a deep breath. "I'm so excited. And this has been such a whirlwind. I can't believe it's already here." She grasped Chelsea's hand. "And that you're all here to help me. Thank you for this."
Chelsea squeezed her hand. "We're your friends, Des. We're practically family now."
And when Des came to them last year around the holidays and told them she wanted to plan a spring wedding, they were all excited for her. Even if it didn't give them a lot of time for planning. But that's what wedding coordinators were for.
Des had a big film coming up that would require four months of filming out of the country, and she'd told them she and Logan didn't want to wait any longer. She wanted to marry him, and she wanted to marry him this spring.
So they knuckled down and did wedding planning as a team, and with the help of Martha, who was Logan's ranch manager/pseudo mother, they had managed to divide up everything that needed to be done. Des had pulled in a wedding planner to deal with all the bigger details, and she'd been a lifesaver.
Des had been finishing up a movie in Paris, and had also somehow managed to sneak into one of the designer shops and buy one hell of a gorgeous wedding dress. And while in Paris, she had also chosen the most amazing dresses for all the bridesmaids to wear.
Des might be getting married on the McCormack ranch, but this wedding was still going to be haute couture.
Chelsea, who had never met a designer dress or shoes she didn't love, couldn't wait.
If she was lucky, some fancy millionaire or movie star would show up at the wedding, and he'd be her Mr. Perfect.
Because so far, she hadn't met him in the small town of Hope, Oklahoma. And it felt like she'd dated almost every available man who lived in the town. She was nearly certain there wasn't a match for her there.
So maybe perfect guy was on the guest list for Des and Logan's wedding.
Things might just be looking up for her.
Bash met up with his best friend, Logan McCormack, at the ranch where Logan had made his living all his life.
They'd often had parties on the ranch and had celebrated a lot here. Though Bash found it hard to believe that lone-wolf, stubborn-as-hell, quiet Logan was going to get married next weekend. And to a fiery, outspoken, wild-to-the-core movie star like Desiree Jenkins, no less. Never in his craziest imaginings would he ever have put those two together.
He knew the old adage that opposites attract. It sure as hell fit for Logan and Des. He'd never seen two people who were so completely different, and yet so much in love.
He pulled his truck in front of the main house at the ranch and put it in park.
Yeah, maybe that love thing did work after all.
For some people. Sure as hell hadn't worked for him and Cathy. He'd tried to be the man she wanted, but in the end, he hadn't been, and it had ended in disaster. The relationship had lasted for a painful two years, and the parting had been ugly. He could still remember the look of disappointment on her face when she'd left him. God knows he'd felt it, too, but it had been directed inward.
He took responsibility for the failure of their marriage, because he hadn't been able to adapt. Cathy had always had big dreams about the guy she was going to spend the rest of her life with--and that guy hadn't been him.
He swore then he'd never get married again. He'd never do to another woman what he'd done to Cathy. He'd never bring that kind of unhappiness into a relationship. Nope. Never again.
Figuring he'd traveled down the road of unpleasant-memory lane long enough, he pushed open the door of the truck and headed up the stairs into the McCormack house, where laughter always greeted him.
"Well, hello, Bash."
Martha came and greeted him as she always did, her arms open wide for a hug.
"Hey, Martha. How's it goin'?"
"It's wonderful. So glad you could make it. The tuxes just arrived, and everyone's in the main room for the final fitting."
Some kind of designer tux thing. Whatever. So not Bash's idea of a good time, but for Logan--and for Des--he'd do it.
"Okay. And how's Miss Martha doing?"
"Are you serious? It's wedding time, and I couldn't be happier."
"Of course you are." He kissed her on the cheek, happy for her. She and her husband, Ben, the ranch foreman, never had kids of their own, but they'd unofficially adopted the McCormack boys after their mother left and their father died. To Logan, Luke, and Reid, Martha and Ben were parents. Damn good ones, too.
"You go on in there," Martha said, patting him on the back.
"Thanks."
He walked into the living room. Logan was in there, and so were Logan's brother Luke, Carter Richards, and Martha's husband, Ben.
"'Bout time you showed up," Logan said. "Can't do this monkey suit party without you."
"Hey. Some of us work for a living. We don't all lie around on the front porch drinking beer all day."
"Screw you, Bash."
Bash laughed. "Where are Reid and Will?"
"You just missed Will. He had to do something with one of the kids, so he'll meet us at the bar later. Reid is finishing up a job in ... I don't know," Logan said. "Wherever the hell he is. He'll fly in on Thursday. He's having his tux fitted in Boston. Des is taking care of all those details. Her dad's and her brother's tuxes were done a month ago. Colt is getting his tux done in LA because he's got a final shoot there, so he and Tony will be here midweek. Other than that, we're all here."
Bash was introduced to Daniel, someone from one of the local tux shops, who was taking care of making sure hems and sleeve leng
ths and all those details were dealt with. Since they were custom tuxes, they'd already been measured once, but they had to make sure everything was perfect.
He'd never owned a tux before. He supposed he was going to now--a gift from Des and Logan.
The tux fit him like--well, he guessed like it had been made for him.
"We're going to look damn good, aren't we?" he asked Logan as they stood side by side looking into the mirror the tailor had brought.
"I guess. This is all for Des. I'm just happy she agreed to marry me. I'd wear a clown suit if that's what she wanted."
"I'd like to see that," Carter said. "The red nose would look good on you. And you definitely have the big feet, Logan."
Logan smirked. "They go with my big dick."
Bash rolled his eyes. "I need a beer."
The tailor's head shot up. "Not until you change out of these tuxes, gentlemen."
"Then let's hurry and get out of these things," Luke said. "Because it's beer time."
The tailor got through his final fittings, and they changed clothes and headed outside where there was a cooler waiting.
They all stuck their hands in and grabbed cans of beer.
"You ready for this, Logan?" Luke asked.
Logan popped the top off his beer. "You mean the wedding, or you all trying your best to get me drunk tonight?"
Luke slapped him on the back. "There is no trying about it. You just think you're a hot cowboy who can hold his liquor. We're taking you down tonight."
"Evan already volunteered to be designated driver, since he said he's on police patrol duty tomorrow morning, and I'm shutting the bar down for the party," Bash said. "It's going to be epic. Hard liquor epic."
Logan rolled his eyes. "I'll make sure you all don't cry when you're puking your guts up in the parking lot."
Luke slid a smirk Bash's way. "He thinks we're amateurs, when we know he doesn't drink all that much."
Logan laughed. "Oh, who doesn't do all that much drinking? I think your gullet is all sensitized by that fine wine you and Emma partake of these days."
"Now I'm insulted. And it's on, brother."
Bash couldn't wait for tonight.
Chapter 9
Des hadn't wanted an out-of-town bachelorette party because of the possibility of paparazzi following her around, but she was still determined to have a party anyway, so Chelsea and the other women decided the best place to do it and do it up right was at the ranch, where they were assured of privacy.
After all, this was where Des and Logan were going to have their wedding next weekend, which was going to be locked down tight. No one got on the McCormack ranch without the ranch hands and Logan knowing about it.