“Good night.”
Ben and Martha headed out the door, so Bash waded into the living room. Carter had found Molly. The two of them were tangled up together on the sofa. Molly had wrapped a red feather boa around him and put her tiara on his head, and they were both out cold.
He’d figured Carter wouldn’t last much longer.
Samantha and Megan were still dancing, though it was more like a slow weave to a fast song. Will and Jane were picking up, Emma and Luke were helping them, and Chelsea was nowhere to be found.
“We’re going to gather up a few things and head out with Will and Jane,” Luke said. “Will said he and Jane have to pick the kids up from her parents in the morning, and we have our dogs to deal with.”
Bash nodded. “I’ll make sure the rest of the ladies are tucked in.”
Luke patted his arm. “Okay, buddy. Good night.”
So much for the wild party. He made his way into the living room.
“Oh, hi, Bash,” Samantha said. “Do you want a feather boa or a tiara?”
He tried not to laugh. “No. But thanks. Hey, have you seen Chelsea?”
“Nope. You jess lemme know if you want some flowers in your hair, then.” Samantha turned around and continued her dance.
“Will do.” Maybe he’d have better luck with Megan. “Hey, Megan. Have you seen Chelsea?”
Megan pointed wildly in five directions, then rubbed her hand over her face. “Um. Sure. She’s over in the fishing cabinet village … thingy.”
He nodded. Nope, no luck there, either. “Uh-huh. Thanks.”
He started out of the room, then stopped, turned around, and waited, wanting to make sure Megan and Samantha didn’t go anywhere.
They didn’t. They both plopped down on the sofa after the song ended. He figured in about five minutes they’d be asleep.
He rechecked the kitchen, then went down the hall to the bathroom, which was empty. He checked the guest bedrooms upstairs, but those were empty as well.
Huh.
He went out back and found Chelsea curled up on one of the lounge chairs. Sound asleep.
“Jesus, it’s freezing out here.” It might be spring, but it was still cold at night, especially out here in the country. He kneeled down beside her. “Chelsea. Wake up.”
She didn’t even budge. He laid his hand on her arm to find it icy cold.
Shit.
He slid his arms underneath her and lifted her out of the chair. Her body curved into his and she wrapped an arm around him.
Instinct, probably. Whatever. He carried her inside and up the stairs to one of the empty guest bedrooms. He sat her on the edge of the bed long enough to draw back the covers, then he placed her on the bed, slipped off those ridiculous high heels she still had on, and pulled the covers over her.
She should warm up shortly. He was about to turn and walk out of the room when he heard her move.
“Bash?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m cold.”
He came over to the side of the bed. “You’re under the covers now. You’ll be warm in a minute.”
“Come lay down with me.”
She was obviously drunk and had no idea what she was saying. “How about I get you an extra blanket?”
Instead, she raised up, wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, and brought her lips to his.
It wasn’t in his nature to take advantage of a drunk woman. But her lips were cold and he could do something about warming her up. He pressed her to the bed and deepened the kiss, feeling her body respond in a way that made him go hard instantly.
Suddenly, the covers were gone, her dress was hiked up and he was sliding his hands over soft, silky thighs. Chelsea moaned his name across his lips and he knew damn well if he didn’t get the hell out of that bedroom, he was going to regret this. And so would she.
He broke the kiss, unable to resist taking one last brush of his lips across hers. She tasted of alcohol and something sugary sweet. His dick was hard and throbbing and he was going to be thinking about that on the long drive back to town.
She laid her head back on the pillow, her eyes half-lidded as she smiled up at him. “It’s because I’m drunk, isn’t it?”
He brushed her hair away from her face. “Yeah.”
“I’d still respect you in the morning, you know.”
His lips curved. “But I wouldn’t respect myself.” He pulled the covers up and leaned in close to her. “Look, Chelsea. I want to make love to you. But I want you to be fully conscious and stone-cold sober and totally aware of what’s going on between us. So you get some sleep tonight, and some other time we’ll talk about this.”
He heard her sigh as she rolled over on her side. “Okay. Night, Bash.”
“Good night, Chelsea.”
It took every ounce of restraint he possessed to walk out of that bedroom.
But he did, and after he closed the door, he leaned against it, needing a minute to get his body under control.
Self-respect. What a crock of shit that was.
Chapter 11
Once school let out Friday afternoon, Chelsea and Jane drove to the ranch. She’d packed the night before so they could head straight over after school let out, since they had a lot to do. Since Des had stayed on the ranch this past week, Chelsea had made arrangements for the manicurist to do manis and pedis on the ranch today, and the hair and makeup people would be flying in tonight to do their hair tomorrow, courtesy of Des.
She and Jane had talked all through lunch about the wedding preparations. Will was dropping the kids off with Jane’s parents, so he’d be heading over later.