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her like a freight train so he could claim the quiet beauty for himself was Ryan’s belief he’d have a heart attack if he didn’t get control of himself, and fast.
    It was excruciatingly difficult to pry his eyes off her startled expression, but he managed somehow. Just barely.
    “Andrea,” he exclaimed. “You look marvelous! As always.”
    His cousin’s bride blushed and squirmed, giving him the perfect next line.
    “Although I’m bummed to see you sitting on that old pervert’s lap. Thought maybe you’d come to your damn senses by now.”
    “Ryan,” she replied with a throaty drawl. “Please refrain from disparaging my husband-to-be in front of me.”
    “Or what?” he taunted with real glee as he bent over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
    The jubilant, almost victorious look on her face didn’t go unnoticed, but he wasn’t prepared for the curveball she threw straight at him.
    “Or my BFF will kick your ass.” Smiling with obvious delight, she took him by the arm and physically turned him until he faced the golden girl across the table.
    “Ryan Sommerfield, best man, meet Samantha Evers, maid of honor.”
    They stared at each other for who the fuck knows how long. Finally, they blinked in synchronized mimicry.
    “Um, hi,” offered the quiet stunner in a soft, silky voice.
    How he stayed standing was a miracle because a hell-fire missile of skin-prickling lust exploded in his core the second he heard her small voice.
    He wanted to have her. With no preliminaries. Just push her down onto a lounger and strip her naked. Involuntarily salivating, he imagined a thatch of mahogany curls where his tongue and cock wanted to be.
    She blinked and flushed scarlet red as if she’s heard his lewd thoughts. Keeping his shit together got harder than his dick with each passing moment.
    In a fugue state of sexual awareness that had Ryan by the balls, he saw himself reach for her hand, which she shakily extended. The second their palms touched, a jolt like an electrical charge shot up his arm and into his neck.
    “Samantha,” he murmured.
    She stared at him looking helpless and out of her comfort zone. Observant and aware, he was good at reading people. It was the artist in him. He saw her breathing change and watched as she chewed on her lip. He also knew she had felt the electric charge by the way she gasped as his hand engulfed hers.
    If anyone else was talking, he couldn’t hear them. Not when every second of his life coalesced in this one transformative moment.
    Holding fast to her small hand, his mind filled with a jumble of romantic imagery. Samantha Evers was put on this earth to be his.
    “Oh,” she said on an exhale. “Um, Sam. I’m, uh, just Sam.”
    Kyle snickered. So did his fiancée. Ryan couldn’t care less.
    Feeling like every goddamn romantic hero he’d ever seen, Ryan sandwiched her hand between both of his and turned on the charm full blast. This girl was worth whatever sort of standing on his head he’d have to do.
    “Samantha,” he chided playfully. “Such a beautiful name. It’s a shame to shorten it.”
    She blushed. He drew her closer and leaned down to speak quietly. “I think I’ll call you Wicked Samantha.”
    “Wha-what?”
    He had her. She was hanging on his next words.
    “It’s wicked of you to outshine the bride.” He winked and put on a big smile. Gently squeezing her captive fingers, he straightened as she let out a soft laugh and wrestled her hand away.
    Ryan wasn’t sure what he expected next, but it wasn’t laughter. She was pointing at Andi and snickering. “Oh! I get it now. Fire extinguisher,” she howled with glee.
    Andi’s response was an amusing laugh as she leaned forward and high-fived her friend. “I know, right?”
    Kyle sat there quietly chuckling and made a production out of caressing his bride-to-be’s ass.
    Making a fast assessment of the seating arrangement, he pushed a chair close to Samantha and lowered. His mom would approve that