Wild Thing (28 page)

Soft music began to play, and Diana pointed at her and said, “I don’t know how much you know about Toni and Hunter, so I want to tell you a thing or two…” Then she belted out the first lines of “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.” Toni laughed the whole way down the aisle. There was never a more perfect song for them. The whole wedding was perfect.

Hunter stepped forward, relief etched all over his face. He broke into that crooked grin she loved so much and shrugged.

She and James reached the altar, and James gave her a kiss on the cheek before he handed her to Hunter. She got caught in Hunter’s gaze again and saw so much love staring back at her. It was all she could do not to kiss him. She looked away from Hunter to the man who was going to marry them. Rodney Dangerfield stood in front of her and straightened his tie. “You sure you want to marry this guy? You’re lookin’ pretty good. I got a few laps left in me yet.”

Hunter scowled and pulled her against him as Toni tried not to laugh. “Oh yeah, I’m sure.”

Rodney smiled and pulled a book out of his suit pocket. “I don’t get no respect.”

Fisher reached around Hunter and tapped her on the shoulder. “Psst… so what do you think?”

“I love it! It’s perfect.”

Trapper shook his head, took out his wallet, and handed Fisher a Benjamin.

Hunter glared at his brothers.

Fisher snapped the bill and held it up to the light before stuffing it in his pocket. “What? Just tying up loose ends.”

Hunter shook his head. “Are you finished? I’d really like to get married now.” He took Toni’s hands in his, and when she looked up to him, he smiled. “Are you ready for another first?”

“Yes. I think I like living on the wild side.”

***

Toni danced with Fisher while she scanned the crowd for Bianca. Toni still needed to thank her for coming and for supplying the photographers.

Clarissa was dancing with Grampa Joe, who had insisted he could handle Clarissa, even after she drank more champagne than any one-hundred-twenty-pound woman should consume.

Hunter had taken Kate for a spin around the dance floor, as Ben and Gina snuggled together, barely moving.

No matter where Hunter had been or who he’d been talking to, for the last couple hours, every time Toni looked for him, she’d found him watching her—just as she did now. She pointed to her wrist where her watch would be if she had one, and he nodded.

Toni didn’t know about Hunter, but she wanted to take this party to a more private place—like the honeymoon suite. She’d already said most of her good-byes but didn’t want to leave without saying good-bye to Bianca. The song ended, and Fisher returned Toni to Hunter.

She slid into his arms. “Have you seen Bianca? I wanted to thank her for coming and providing the wedding photos.”

“She was dancing with Trapper earlier. Maybe he knows.”

“I can’t find him either.”

Hunter shook his head and groaned. “Son of a bitch. I told him to be nice, but not too nice.”

Toni patted his cheek. “Don’t worry. Trapper’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”

“Sure. Trapper can, but what about Bianca? Trapper’s the seventy-two-hour relationship king.”

“Come on. This is Bianca we’re talking about.”

“Hey, she’s got a tough shell, but take it from me, she has a marshmallow center.”

“And you know this how?”

“I’m observant. That’s all, I swear. So, Mrs. Kincaid, are you ready to blow this pop stand?”

“Definitely. My feet are killing me.”

Hunter picked her up, and Toni let out a scream. Everyone turned and clapped as they headed to the elevators.

Hunter kissed her as the doors closed and let her slide down his body.

She’d left her makeup case in the other suite, which wouldn’t have been a big deal, but her case was where she kept her birth control. “Hunter, would you mind if we stopped back at the room I used before we go to our suite? I just want to pick up a few things I left there.”

Hunter swung his arm around her. “No problem. Besides, it’s closer than the honeymoon suite.”

By the time they reached their floor, Toni was breathless. She fumbled with the electronic key as Hunter tormented her, nipping her ear, and telling her in excruciatingly vivid detail exactly how he planned to make love to her. By the time he had the door to the suite open Hunter had the zipper of her dress halfway down and her temperature past the boiling point. They slammed into the room, and Hunter kicked the door closed, backing her against the wall as he pulled her dress down.

Toni’s eyes went wide. She could swear she’d heard something. Her vision adjusted to the darkness, and it took her a moment to realize someone else was using her room. Well, not so much the room, just the bed. “Um… Hunter.” She tugged up her dress. “On second thought, let’s just go to our suite.”

“Toni, we’re here now—”

Yeah, he’d heard it.

“Son of a bitch. Looks like Trapper and Bianca are going for a little walk on the wild side too.”

The End

Acknowledgments

Writing is a solitary endeavor, but a writer’s life isn’t. I’m lucky to have the love and support of my incredible family. My husband, Stephen, who after twenty-one years of marriage, is still the man of my dreams. My children, Tony, Anna, and Isabelle, who in spite of being teenagers, are my favorite people to hang out with. They make me laugh, amaze me with their intelligence and generosity, and make me proud every day. My parents, Richard Williams and Ann Feiler, and my stepfather George Feiler, who always encouraged me and continue to do so.

And of course, there are my wonderful critique partners Deborah Villegas, Laura Becraft, Grace Burrowes, Hope Ramsay, and April Line. They shortened my sentences, corrected my grammar, and put commas where they needed to be. They listened to me whine when my muse took a vacation, gave me great ideas when I was stuck, and answered that all-important question: Does this suck? They help me plot, love my characters almost as much as I do, and push-challenge me to be a better writer. They are wonderful friends, talented writers, and the sisters of my heart.

I wrote most of this book in the Carlisle Crossing Starbucks, and I have to thank all my baristas for keeping me in laughter and coffee while my computer and I camped out in their store. They were always there for me when I was searching for the right word or falling asleep at my computer. I don’t think I could have written this book without them. I also need to thank a few of the customers who have become wonderful friends: Dana and Steven Gossert, and Alan Monahan for giving me an excuse not to write.

As always, I have to thank my wonderful agent Kevan Lyon for all she does, and my team at Sourcebooks, my editor Deb Werksman, and my publicist Danielle Jackson.

About the Author

Robin Kaye
was born in Brooklyn, New York, and grew up in the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge next door to her Sicilian grandparents. Living with an extended family that’s a cross between
Gilligan’s Island
and
The
Sopranos
, minus the desert isle and illegal activities, explains both her comedic timing and the cast of quirky characters in her books.

She’s lived in half a dozen states, from Idaho to Florida, but the romance of Boise has never left her heart. She currently resides in Maryland with her husband, three children, two dogs, and a three-legged cat with attitude.

Robin would love to hear from you. Visit her website at
www.robinkayewrites.com
. Or email her at [email protected].