The Virgin's Guide to Misbehaving

Book 2: A Bluebonnet Novel

by Jessica Clare

Genres: Small Town & Rural; Contemporary Romance; Romantic Comedy

Synopsis

After being the quiet, shy girl her whole life, Elise Markham is ready for a mental makeover. It's time to break out of her shell and maybe meet someone intriguing in the process. So, on a photography trip to Bluebonnet, she has a whole lot more on her mind than snapping photos.



The newest instructor at Wilderness Survival Expeditions has a colorful past, to say the least. Having come from a family of notorious con artists that has destroyed his credit and reputation, Rome just wants a decent job and a quiet life in a town where no one knows his name. He's exactly the kind of bad boy that an innocent girl like Elise should stay far away from. But Elise is tired of doing what's right. She's ready to throw caution to the wind-and let Rome show her just how exciting being bad can be...



Contains mature themes.

Release date: June 3, 2014

Publisher: Berkley

Print pages: 304

Sample

There were days, Elise Markham decided, when the world seemed to be hideously unfair.

If the world was fair, she wouldn’t have been born with that awful port-wine stain on her entire left cheek. It didn’t matter that she’d had it lasered away in her teen years. When she looked in the mirror, she could swear she still saw traces of it there, discoloring her from jaw to brow. And if she saw it, so did everyone else. If the world was fair, karma wouldn’t have then turned around and slapped her with scoliosis during puberty that involved wearing a bulky back brace and made her even more of a social misfit.

If the world was fair, that would have been enough and she wouldn’t have had to go through the other awful things teenage girls did, like pudgy thighs and pimples and braces. But she had. She’d endured those things and then some.

All of which had told Elise by the age of thirteen that the world wasn’t fair, and she needed to stop wishing it was.

Because, if the world was fair? Her new friends would not be trying to set her up on a blind date.

“What about that really quiet, tall officer?” Miranda asked, raising her margarita glass and licking the salt from the rim. “The one who’s the sheriff’s son. He’s not bad looking. He gave me a ticket last month for speeding and I thought he was kind of cute. In a law-officer sort of way.”

Miranda and Brenna sat across from Elise in a cozy booth at Maya Loco, the only restaurant in tiny Bluebonnet. Beth Ann was at the bar, getting a refill on her drink and chatting with a friend. It was busy in the restaurant, the noisy hum of voices and clinking forks making it difficult to hold a quiet conversation.

Not that it stopped the women she was seated with. At her side in the booth, Brenna shook her head. She twirled her short red mixing straw in her drink as she spoke. “He hooked up with that weird blogger chick. Emily’s sister. You’re a few months too late.”

“Oh. Rats.” Miranda screwed up her face. “I know this is a small town, but Jesus. There have to be some hot, eligible men around here.”

“It’s really okay,” Elise said, but her voice was so quiet beneath the din of the restaurant happy hour that she wasn’t sure anyone heard her. “I don’t need to date.”

“I stole the last hottie,” Brenna said with a sly grin. She winked at Elise and adjusted her purple bangs on her forehead. “Lucky for me he’s into tattoos and kinky sex.”

Elise made a face at the same time Miranda did. “Um.”

“That’s her brother, you sicko,” Miranda said. “Gross.”

“Doesn’t matter. He’s hot. Those uptight clothes and frumpy glasses? Mmm.” Brenna fanned her face. “Great big cock—”

“Still her brother,” Miranda said.

Elise nodded. Brenna was weird. Sweet, but weird. No one could predict the things that came out of her mouth, so it was best for Elise to just sit back and let someone else correct Brenna when she spouted off. Not that Elise would ever say something to hurt Brenna’s feelings—her brother’s fiancée was strange, but Elise thought she was great. Brenna marched to the beat of her own drum—she wore old T-shirts and ill-fitting clothing more often than not. Actually, most of the time it was Grant’s clothing, which was odd to see. But her uptight, once-lonely workaholic brother worshipped Brenna, and for that, Elise adored her as well.

“There’s got to be someone,” Miranda muttered.

“Someone for what?” Beth Ann slid into the booth next to Elise.

Self-conscious at the appearance of the statuesque blonde, Elise straightened, careful to raise one shoulder above the other so it wouldn’t look like she was slumping. Adolescent scoliosis had made her incredibly aware of her posture, and she was constantly self-correcting and hoping no one else noticed. Of her three new friends, Beth Ann was the most intimidating. Miranda was pretty but scholarly. Brenna was cheery and strange, and dressed like a slob. But Beth Ann? Beth Ann was completely perfect, from her delicately manicured nails to her faint tan in November and her immaculate blond hair. She was also dressed in a dainty gingham dress topped with a matching cardigan and slingbacks.

She was intimidating, all right. But Beth Ann was also the sweetest person that Elise knew, and she was going to be her partner in a new business venture, provided Elise decided to stay in Bluebonnet. But . . . she hadn’t decided yet.

“A man for Elise to date,” Miranda offered, delicately licking a large grain of margarita salt off of one finger. “Since we’re all paired up, we thought it might be a good idea to find Elise a man, too.”

Elise shook her head and whispered, “I really don’t—”

Miranda snapped her fingers, cutting off Elise’s thoughts. “I know! What about one of Colt’s brothers?”

“Oh, honey, no,” Beth Ann said in her sweet drawl. “Berry’s the only one close to her age and he’s not right for her. At all.”

Brenna leaned across the table toward Elise and gave her a mock-conspiratorial whisper. “Colt’s brothers are all named after guns. Berry’s short for Beretta. It’s all very redneck.”

“Honey,” Beth Ann said again. “She knows that. She grew up here, remember?” Of the four women at the table, only Brenna wasn’t originally from Bluebonnet.

“Actually, I don’t know them all that well,” Elise said in a small voice. “I went to boarding school as soon as I was old enough.” And she’d never left the house much before that, too ashamed of the gigantic purple mark that had disfigured her cheek. Even now, she had to fight the urge to drag her long hair over that side of her face to hide it. “But it’s okay.” She did remember hearing Grant’s stories about Colt’s poor-as-dirt family while she was growing up. Not that she was a snob, but when even Colt didn’t want to associate with his family, it was bad.

Beth Ann patted Elise’s hand. “We’ll find you a good guy, honey. Don’t you worry. I have a few single clients. Let me think.”

God, she didn’t want anyone. Or rather, no one would want her. But her friends seemed determined to find her someone to date, which made her want to cringe and hide. She felt like a charity case, which only made things worse. Our poor ugly, shy friend can’t find a man? We’ll just have to find one for her.

The worst part was that she knew they meant well; but it still hurt. It hurt that she was ungainly and unattractive enough to have to resort to charity. Being single and alone was so much easier. No hopes to get up. “I don’t really want to date right now, Beth Ann,” Elise said in a low, soft voice. “I just don’t think—”

“Nonsense,” Brenna interrupted. “You just sit in your room every night over at the bed-and-breakfast unless we drag you out. That’s not healthy.”

“That’s not true,” Elise protested, then bit her lip. Okay, so it was a little true. “Sometimes I go out and take photos.” But only at times when she wouldn’t risk running into too many of the nosy, well-meaning people of Bluebonnet. People who would stop and try to have a conversation with her.

Elise wasn’t good with conversations. Actually, she wasn’t good with small talk, period.

“You don’t want to date?” Miranda looked crestfallen. “Really?”

It wasn’t that Elise didn’t, exactly. She wasn’t the type that guys dated. And she was getting up toward the age that it was starting to become weird. Never dated by twenty-four? You’re clearly a freak. She didn’t know how to date, how to make out, anything. It was easier to just eschew it entirely. “I’m concentrating on business right now,” she said. “And besides, like Beth Ann said, I grew up here. There’s no one in town who interests me. No one here is my type.”

“So what’s your type?” Brenna wanted to know.

Her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth. Should she lie? She was a terrible liar. Really, the only thing she was excellent at was taking photos and avoiding people. But admitting her type would make it pretty obvious who she liked. More than liked, really. She had a schoolgirl crush on a man who was sexy, covered in tattoos and piercings, and rode a motorcycle.

But only one man in Bluebonnet matched that description. So Elise said nothing, because speaking would have betrayed her thoughts, and she had no desire to be humiliated like that. She simply shrugged her shoulders.

“Do you like tall men?” Brenna prompted. “Short men with a coke-can dick?”

“Let it go,” Beth Ann said, coming to Elise’s defense with a laugh. “If Elise doesn’t want someone in town, I can’t say I blame her.”

“We could always get her an out-of-towner,” Miranda said with a sly glance in her direction. At her side, Brenna gave a chortle and elbowed her, then nodded in the distance.

Beth Ann and Elise turned.

Coming across the crowded restaurant, beer in hand, was none other than the object of Elise’s crush, Rome Lozada. Oh no. Elise immediately turned away, feeling her face turn a bright, beet red that would make the remains of the old stain darken on her face. Please, no.

Oblivious to Elise’s distress, Brenna waved a hand. “Rome! Hey! Come sit with us!”

Elise whimpered in her throat. Luckily, the restaurant was too noisy for it to be overheard. She stared down at her iced tea, unable to work up the courage to lift it to her mouth, lest someone notice her movements. Maybe Rome was meeting friends and wouldn’t be sitting with them.

To her dismay, he came and stood at the end of their table. “Ladies.” He gave them a gorgeous smile, and Elise felt her pulse flutter. No man should be that pretty. “Am I interrupting girls’ night out?” He glanced at their group, and his gaze seemed to linger on Elise. “Hey, Bo Peep.”

She averted her gaze, staring at her drink. With a quick shift of her chin, her hair fell forward. “Hi.” His nickname was so embarrassing. He called her that because he said she looked lost. She was pretty sure that was supposed to be an insult, wasn’t it?

“We’re just trying to find Elise a man,” Miranda said, a hint of slurring in her voice. Too many margaritas for her. “You know of any good pieces of man-meat?”

“Other than yourself,” Brenna said, and gave him a wicked, lascivious look. “You’re the best man-meat we have in town. Other than all the ones that are taken, of course.”

“Am I?” Rome laughed at Brenna’s outrageous comments. “Maybe I should volunteer to be Elise’s man-meat, then.”

Elise wanted to crawl under the table. She shrank down, just a little, and kept staring at her glass. Was he really volunteering to date her? Or just humoring a tipsy Brenna? Was this a suggestion born out of pity? That would be just awful. Elise’s throat felt knotted in embarrassment. No one as gorgeous as Rome Lozada would even look in her direction, except for the fact that her well-meaning friends were trying to coerce him into asking her out. Ugh.

“Brenna,” Beth Ann said in a chiding voice. “Be nice.” Elise felt Beth Ann shift in the booth, turning toward Rome. “What these two drunks aren’t telling you is that Elise isn’t interested in dating anyone in town. There’s no one who’s Elise’s type. She’s already said so, but these ladies won’t take no for an answer.”

Oh god! Now Beth Ann had just told Rome that he wasn’t her type and she didn’t like him. That was either a blessing or the worst thing ever.

“That so?” Rome gave a hard-sounding chuckle. “Guess Elise is too picky for the likes of me, then.”

She wanted to protest, or apologize, but the words wouldn’t form.

“Now, now,” Brenna called, and Elise glanced over at her long enough to see her reaching out and patting Rome’s tattooed arm. “Don’t be sad. I’m sure you’re other women’s type. Just not Elise’s.” She leaned in and whispered loudly, “You probably talk too much.”

Miranda snorted and drank again.

“You ladies sound like you’re enjoying your drinks,” Rome said, voice cool. “I take it you have a designated driver?”

That was her. Elise raised her hand, not looking up.

Rome made a noise of approval. “Well, I’ll leave you be, then. Enjoy your drinks. See you at work tomorrow, Brenna.”

“Bye, man-meat,” Brenna called after him. Miranda dissolved into giggles. Beth Ann only sighed at their antics.

Elise had been nursing a crush on Rome for a few weeks now. She’d stayed overnight at the Daughtry Ranch when she’d first come in to town, visiting her brother, Grant. Her brother and two of his friends from high school, Dane and Colt, had started a survival expedition business where they took businessmen and school groups out in the wild and showed them how to survive. They ran it all out of a big ranch on the outskirts of town, and there was a big lodge that doubled as a rec room and office for the business.

Elise had crashed on one of the couches one night and woken up to see Rome Lozada staring down at her. She’d immediately become flustered because the man was utterly, insanely delicious, and he’d simply laughed and called her Bo Peep. She’d been totally tongue-tied around him.

That hadn’t changed in the last two weeks, unfortunately. She was still tongue-tied around him.

Elise watched a droplet of condensation slide down the front of her glass, wishing she were back in her nice, safe room at the bed-and-breakfast. Rome Lozada, the hottest man that Elise had ever seen, thought she was a snob and too good for the men in Bluebonnet.

Yep. That clinched it. The world was definitely not fair.

• • •

Elise stared at the email rejection in her inbox, wondering if it was possible to have your heart broken through a message. If so, hers had just been pounded into smithereens.

While it’s a great idea, Crissy had written, I’m afraid that I’m not a big fan of the photographs. There’s something missing in them. There’s no life, no energy. I hate to say it, but they read like they were taken by a teenager, not a grown woman. I know you’ve been working hard at finding the right thing for the magazine, but this isn’t it, either. I keep coming back to the feeling that your pictures are a little too safe and unmemorable. It’s like . . . there’s not enough life experience and it shows in the photos. I’d love to have you take a year off, go out and live a little, and then come back with a fresh, bolder perspective.

Professionally, Elise knew it was great feedback and an encouraging response.

Personally . . . it hurt.

She’d been friends with Crissy since college, when they’d both taken journalism classes. Elise had steered toward photojournalism while Crissy had gone more toward the editorial side, but they’d remained friends even after graduation, and had vowed to work together on a future project. Crissy had been working for a popular women’s magazine for the last few years, and Elise had submitted a few concepts for photo spreads, but each time they were rejected with the same sort of commentary.

Lifeless.

Something missing.

Not quite what we’re looking for.

Unmemorable.

Not enough life experience.

How the heck did something like that show in her photographs? Elise didn’t understand. Her photos were gorgeous—not that she was biased, of course. They were crisp, the colors were good, but when she looked at them again, she had to agree: something was missing.

She just didn’t know what that something was.

Frustrated, Elise opened up Photoshop and stared at the pictures she’d sent to Crissy, trying to determine what was wrong. They were photos she’d taken a week or so ago of Rome Lozada, he of the gorgeous body and even more gorgeous face. He looked delectable, of course. Nothing could make that man look bad. In the photo, he was covered in mud and his skin was gleaming with beaded droplets of water. He looked insanely good and her heart ached just gazing at him.

But like Crissy said, there was something off in the photo. It wasn’t Rome. It wasn’t the scene. It was just . . . Elise didn’t know. Heck, if she knew, she’d be able to fix the issue.

Unable to come to a conclusion, she flicked her mouse and Photoshopped a crayon-like smile on Rome Lozada’s face.

Take that.

Considering the picture, she played with a couple of editing filters and ended up elongating his crotch to a ridiculous length, just because it made her laugh.The things we go through to feel better about our work, she mused to herself.

She set the modified picture as her computer desktop background just to amuse herself, and then sighed in frustration. She’d been hoping that photo shoot would lead to a layout, and that layout would be her big break. It would have also given her yet another chance to see Rome Lozada, shirtless and sexy.

More than anything, it would have been her chance to prove herself.

Unfortunately, Elise was getting nowhere fast. She had a backup business in mind with Beth Ann—pinup photography. But Beth Ann wouldn’t be back for several weeks, as she’d gone to Alaska on her honeymoon with Colt just yesterday. So while the pinup photography would be fun, it was on hold at the moment. She needed Beth Ann for hair and make-up and for dealing with people. She couldn’t do it on her own.

So Elise was more or less at odds and ends until she had a new project. She could return home with her parents, but the thought of doing that made her unhappy. She wanted to make something of herself.

She was tired of living at home. She was twenty-four years old. She’d been out of college for two years now, and she was still only freelancing for the occasional family photo.

Her parents wanted her to relax and take a break, since the photography was stressful. That was the problem with her parents. They sheltered her and thought she was fragile. Maybe she had been at one point, but she was an adult now, and she was tired of being protected from the world.

She needed to see things with new eyes.

How, she had no idea. Elise wasn’t good at jumping out of the box.

But . . . Brenna was. Elise considered this and then grabbed the keys to her rental car. Brenna would have ideas. Sure, they’d be insane ideas, but maybe she could sift through the crazy stuff and find a decent one that would be a start.

• • •

To Elise’s chagrin, the tiny parking lot at Wilderness Survival Expeditions was nearly full. She squeezed her rental into one of the back parking spaces in the gravel lot and then cautiously made her way toward the main cabin. Out on the front lawn, Dane Croft stood with a pack looped over one shoulder. Four men were lined up in front of him, all dressed in wilderness gear. They had no packs, and one had painted his face with camouflage and seemed to be devouring every word that Dane said.

They glanced over at her as she headed for the doorstep, and Elise self-consciously shrank back a bit.

Dane gave her a quick wave. “Hey there. We were just heading out.” He nodded at the men in front of him. “You guys ready?”

“Ready,” they chorused.

Dane nodded at her and then gestured for the men to follow him, and they took off across the grass in quick, eager footsteps.

Elise watched them leave, then headed into the main log cabin. Wilderness Survival Expeditions used to be a ranch, she had been told by her brother, Grant. An emu ranch, of all things. The main “house” of the business looked like an enormous log cabin, complete with rustic kitchen and enormous stone fireplace. Scattered around the parking lot were a handful of personal cabins where the instructors lived. They were all childhood friends of her brother . . . well, except for the newest one, Rome.

The hottest, most delicious, newest one, she thought. Elise sighed as she entered the cabin, biting her lip. Part of her wanted to open the door and see Rome, and part of her dreaded running into him.

But when she went in, only Brenna was seated at her desk, and Elise felt a pang of disappointment. No hot, vaguely scary guy to gawk at.

“Hey,” Brenna said, waving cheerily at Elise. She had her new puppy in her hands and forced the puppy to wave a paw. “What brings you here this morning? You come to hang out?”

Elise smiled at her brother’s fiancée and sat down in the chair across from her desk. “I was a little bored and thought I’d come and see about taking some photos. The light is great today.”

“Working? Barf.” Brenna nuzzled her puppy. “No one’s really working today. Isn’t that right, Gollum?”

Elise tactfully refrained from pointing out that Brenna was, in fact, at work, and seated at her work desk. “Where’s Grant?”

“Sleeping in. I wore him out.” She gave Elise a wickedly smug smile. “I wouldn’t ask questions if I were you.”

“Um. Okay. I don’t think I want to know more.”

“So how goes the man hunt?” Brenna looked excited. “It’s been a week. You score yet?”

“Man hunt?” Elise shook her head, feeling the hot flush creep up her cheeks. “I’m not looking for a man.” But even as she said it, a flurry of images flashed through her mind. Rome Lozada, shirtless and muddy. Crissy’s email. Not enough life in her pictures.

“What about those beefcakes that Dane just took into the woods? We could always call them back for a minor emergency and send you off with them.” Brenna gave her an encouraging look and wagged her eyebrows. “That’s how Miranda met Dane, remember?”

“Um, I don’t think any of them were my type,” Elise said in a soft voice. One had camo on his face and looked as if he’d want to skip the camping phase and go right to the skinning of animals.

“You’re so picky. No one’s your type, according to you.” Brenna kissed her puppy’s wrinkly forehead.

Elise gave her a faint smile. She wanted to ask Brenna how she could get more life experience—Brenna would know more than anyone.

But there was something that held her back. Maybe because Brenna was distracted this morning by the puppy? Maybe because she’d run into a few men on the way in and that had set her on edge?

She realized that anything she asked Brenna would be innocently blurted back out to her brother, Grant, and right now she didn’t want to have to deal with it. She could just imagine the pitying looks that Grant would send her way. His poor, fragile baby sister.

She was so tired of being the delicate flower everyone had to protect.

Mentally, she squashed her idea of asking Brenna about ways to get life experience. She’d simply have to think of something on her own.

“So whatcha working on?” Brenna asked. “More pinups?”

She shook her head. “Not until Beth Ann gets back. I have the keys to her salon, but no appointments set up. We still don’t even have a website.” And if she wanted to be honest, the pinups were fun if Beth Ann was there. By herself, she couldn’t really do hair and makeup. She didn’t have the skill. “I thought I’d see if you guys needed pictures for the paintball brochures.”

“Probably,” Brenna said, cuddling her puppy against her chest. “Sounds kind of boring to me.”

“I don’t mind it,” Elise said, watching Brenna play with the puppy’s ears. It was like trying to keep the attention of a two-year-old. How on earth did she not drive ever-so-proper, work-oriented Grant insane? “Is it okay if I go ahead and head out to look at the grounds?”

“Sure,” Brenna said. “I’ll stay here in case Grant wakes up and wants me to work. Or did you want company?”

“No, I’m fine. I know where it is. Thank you, though.”

“Have fun.”

Chickening out, Elise shouldered her camera bag and headed out of the lodge.

The day was a great one for photos. The skies were bright but overcast, ensuring that any photos she took wouldn’t be a mess of shadows. There was a hint of a chill in the air, but Elise tugged the sleeves of her old sweatshirt down over her bare hands to warm them. The breeze scattered the leaves, and she watched it for a minute, then decided that it would be good for the picture. She could always take new ones in the spring if she was still in Bluebonnet.

Not that she had a reason to be. She was just drifting, in between everything, at home nowhere.

She hated that. But if she set down roots in Bluebonnet, she’d need a reason to keep hanging around. The Wilderness Survival Expeditions business was too small to need a photographer on hand at all times. Beth Ann already had her hands full with her salon. Elise didn’t have a home here, or a car. Or anyone that she could say she was staying for.

There was Grant, but Grant had Brenna. The last thing he needed was his pathologically shy sister lurking around in shadowy corners, cringing at the thought of someone talking to her.

Elise headed up the trail to the area that had been fenced off for the paintball course. They’d set aside a few acres, enclosed it with a rail fence that was already getting covered with multiple colors of paint, and were working on adding obstacles and scenery for game scenarios. Rome and Colt’s pop had actually built a rather neat castle construct, and she wanted to get a photo of that for the brochure, since it would likely be the focus of a multitude of games.

She pulled her camera out and selected a lens, then did a few test shots, reviewing them on the screen on the back of the camera. As a hobbyist, she loved “real” film and developing her own photos in a darkroom, but practicality meant that digital won out almost every time. There was never an issue with too many chemicals, not enough chemicals, and underdeveloped photos when all you had to do was import your file.

Elise tucked her bag near the fence post, out of the way, and began to trek through the rolling hills and bushy growth of the paintball course. She snapped a few photos here and there, testing shots, playing with angles, and trying to mentally picture what would look good in the brochures. In several spots, mini barricades made of stacked logs had been set up at corner angles for defensible positions. Someone was putting a lot of work and thought into the paintball course, and Elise was impressed by it. Heck, she didn’t play paintball and it even looked like fun to her.

Over a ridge, she made out the edges of the castle. Constructed entirely of wood, the castle was about twenty feet tall at its highest, and had walls about ten feet high angling over to the side of a cliff. It was defensible, but the back end was open so no team could dig in and corner themselves. The tops of the castle walls were crenellated, and an orange flag was flapping at the top of the castle itself. The side of the wall facing her was painted gray with black lines denoting a brick pattern. It was rather cool, she admitted to herself, and snapped a photo of it from afar, then moved closer to get additional shots.

As soon as she stepped around the wall, she nearly ran into a shirtless Rome.

Elise gasped in shock and stumbled backward, only to have Rome reach out and grab her arm before she could topple over.

“Careful,” he told her. “Wet paint.”

Her eyes widened and she stiffened in surprise. She hadn’t been expecting anyone out here, and she hadn’t heard him working. The shock of seeing another person was bad enough; the fact that it was Rome, the object of her crush, had her speechless.

As always, Rome was mouth-wateringly beautiful. If she’d come up with a dream of what the ideal dangerous man would be, Ro