Tough Luck Hero. Maisey Yates

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Tough Luck Hero - Maisey Yates Copper Ridge

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counter, where a young woman was waiting to check them out.

      “So,” the girl said, taking the sunglasses from Lydia and scanning them. “You just got married?”

      Lydia smiled, and it might have looked genuine if he was standing a little farther away. If it wasn’t so apparent to him how intensely she was grinding her teeth together. “Yes. I bet you don’t get a lot of newlyweds in here.”

      Lydia’s dry tone completely went over the woman’s head. “Oh, we do. Getting married is a pretty popular pastime here.”

      “What else are you going to do in a desert?” Colton asked.

      “Pretty much nothing,” the girl responded, folding up the sweatshirt and then starting on the pants.

      “Actually,” Lydia said, “I kind of want to change now.”

      “Must have had some party after the wedding, huh?” the checker asked.

      Lydia touched her hair again. “Or something.”

      “She’s dressed a lot fancier than you,” the woman said, this time directing her comment at Colton.

      “Yes, well she was standing outside a chapel waiting around for her groom. I just happened to show up.”

      “I should have been waiting where you were waiting,” the checker said, winking at Lydia.

      “If only you had been,” Lydia responded drily. “I’m just going to go change.”

      Lydia disappeared for a few moments and Colton pretended to look at the merchandise in the store. Merchandise he would never in a million years consider buying. But it was better than attempting conversation with the woman at the counter. When Lydia reappeared her hair was still a disaster, and she looked a little like a Real Housewife of Somewhere. All she was missing was a small dog.

      “Are you checking out?” the sales clerk asked.

      “Yes,” Lydia said emphatically.

      “In a hurry to start the honeymoon?” the woman asked with a grin.

      “Something like that,” Colton said as they left the store.

      While they waited in line to check out, Colton took his phone out of his pocket and dialed the airline. After giving all of the relevant information, he made a request for a change of flight.

      “Mr. West, that is going to be an expensive fee,” the woman on the other end of the line—Julia, according to her initial introduction—said.

      “I don’t care,” he responded.

      “Four hundred dollars a ticket,” Julia continued.

      He gritted his teeth. It didn’t really matter to him, in any way beyond principle, anyway. “I understand. But my new wife and I need to get back as quickly as possible.”

      Lydia shot him a deadly glare. He shrugged.

      “You’re on your honeymoon?” Julia asked, sounding surprised and delighted now.

      “Yes. But regrettably we have to cut it short.”

      “When you get to the airport, explain the situation,” she continued. “I can’t make any guarantees, but let’s see what they can do.”

      He hung up after that, then smiled at the man behind the counter. This was an awful lot of human interaction for being this hungover. “Just checking out,” Colton said.

      “Oh yes, Callie from the gift shop called over to let me know you would be over here. Newlyweds.”

      He rubbed his hand over his forehead. “Yes.”

      “Do you need transportation to the airport?”

      “Yes,” Lydia supplied for him. “A taxi would be great.”

      “I think,” the guy said, smiling as though he had just managed to procure them heaven and earth, “I can make that a little bit more special for you. The car will be waiting at the curb in a few moments.”

      “That isn’t necessary,” Colton said.

      “Of course it is, Mr. West,” he said. “We want to make sure you have the best possible service during this special time.”

      Colton supplied his credit card and everything else, signing the bill before handing it back to the man.

      “Thank you,” Colton said, keeping a tight leash on his temper.

      Because that was what he did. Regardless of how he felt. Even when all was right with the world.

      Then he walked toward the automatic doors that would lead them outside into the bright midafternoon sunlight. And when they arrived outside, they both stopped in their tracks.

      “NO WAY,” LYDIA SAID, looking around the inside of the Hummer limousine they were currently taking to the airport. “There’s a stripper pole over there. In the limo.”

      “Maybe it’s just so people have something to hold on to.”

      “Well, that’s all I would be using it for.”

      “This is our honeymoon,” he pointed out, probably just to rile her because there was no way in all the world Colton was sincerely suggesting she get up and dance.

      “Does that mean you’re going to get up on the pole for me?” Lydia asked, leaning back in her seat and stretching her legs out in front of her. She was doing her very best to keep her tone casual, to keep from blushing. To keep from remembering anything that might have happened last night.

      This entire morning—afternoon—had been a study in walking through the deepest darkest pit of hell as far as she was concerned.

      A hangover like she hadn’t experienced in ever, a walk of shame in a ridiculously fluffy bridesmaid dress and rhinestone-encrusted high heels along with hair so large she would inspire envy in beauty pageant contestants everywhere.

      But that wasn’t the worst part. Experiencing this with any guy would be traumatic. Experiencing it with Colton West was just too much. Her dignity was now a rare and endangered species. Like a spotted owl or snowy plover. She needed someone to come and protect it. Maybe if she had feathers people would be more concerned for her well-being.

      Her dignity might have been damaged, but her sense of self-pity had never been healthier.

      “You say that, Lydia, but I have a feeling you would actually pay me good money to stay off the pole.”

      “True,” she said, gripping her purse tightly, as though it might shield her from yet more embarrassment. Plus, focusing on clinging to that specific item helped keep her brain busy so it didn’t do anything stupid like imagine how Colton might look if he were to engage in any sort of striptease.

      Nope.

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