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Patrick pulled on a pair of trousers. Rylee watched long enough to discern that he was a boxer-briefs guy with a decent-looking butt, before turning her back and granting him the privacy he hadn’t bothered asking for.
“Did you come in to check me out, or is this a professional visit?” he asked, reminding her that wherever he was involved, it was destined to be an uphill climb.
“I have a proposition for you, Mr.—uh, Patrick.”
“Trick is fine, Rye.”
“It’s Rylee to you.” She spun around to find him cinching his belt. He wore a white button-down shirt, the collar open to reveal an attractive neck. He stood tall, confident despite not wearing any shoes, as confident as he’d been previously while not wearing any pants. Even so, he struck her as trustworthy and safe, a bizarre assessment given her reason for being here tonight. The infamous Trick MacArthur was known for being disingenuous and opportunistic. The thought caused her eyebrows to meet over her nose.
“Okay. Rylee.” He sat on a footstool and slipped on a pair of leather loafers, Italian leather if she wasn’t mistaken, and then stood again. As you say in Texas, “What can I do ya for?”
“I’m not sure that saying derived from Texas.”
He frowned. “No?”
“No.” She straightened her back. “But I am fairly certain thatThis ain’t my first rodeodid. Which brings me to the reason for my visit.”
“Are you asking me to go to a rodeo with you?”
She ignored the question. “I’m here to make a bargain with you before you cause a ruckus at Xavier and Ariana’s wedding.”
“A ruckus?” He approached, enveloping her in a bouquet of familiar scents. Bergamot, mandarin and fruity but also peppery.
“Dior Sauvage?” she blurted. Startled by her own outburst, she blinked. “Your cologne. I have a weird talent for guessing men’s colognes. A talent I’ve fostered for the grooms in the weddings I plan,” she continued blathering. “Most of the time they don’t know what they like, and want something special but not overpowering for the big day. Anyway, never mind.”
“I’m impressed. Dior is my go-to.”
It suited him. The fragrance was complex. One part bad-boy, one part sophistication. Trick managed to pull off both. The scent was subtle, as if he’d sprayed it on this morning and the fragrance had lessoned as the hours had ticked by. A vision of him stepping out of the shower, water rivulets trickling off his bare chest and over the curve of his round butt invaded her imagination. By the time he was pushing a hand through wet hair and wiping the steam off a mirror, she’d completely lost her place.
“Your proposition?” he prompted.
Right. That.
“I assume you’d like to attend the Noble-Ramos wedding.”
His head jerked on his neck. “Are you offering me an invitation?”
“Sort of. As you know Xavier and Ariana are America’s favorite couple at the moment.”
“Hence my presence here in the great state of Texas.” He spread his arms, his toothy grin sharklike, but no less attractive. What must it be like not to worry about anyone but yourself? Rylee worried about everyone else most of the time. Then again, she was in the service industry and Trick...was not.
“If I give you ample access to the final preparations for the wedding, you will be able to film, at your discretion, all of what happens up and until the actual wedding and reception.” She hoped that his pursed lips and narrowed eyes were signs he was considering her offer.
“What’s the catch?”
“You are prohibited from filming the wedding or reception, though you are welcome to attend as aninvitedguest.”
“And...?” he asked as if he’d sensed there was more. He was right.
“Andyou will be asked to donate the revenue for any monetized videos to a charity of Xavier’s and Ariana’s choosing.”
“Done.”
“Hear me out before you...” Her tired brain belatedly processed his easy acquiescence. “Excuse me?”
“It’s a deal.” He held out his hand for her to shake. She regarded it skeptically. “Come on, Rylee. This is why you’re here. What are you waiting for?” He flipped his hand so that it was palm up. “Seal the deal.”
“Now I’m waiting for the catch.”
