Free Mr. Right Now by Kristina Knight

Except there was nowhere to run. Surrounded on all sides by water, the most she could hope for was the harsh ocean sun ruining her complexion.
    “We think it’s just wonderful that you’ve found your hero. Just like you say in your books—having it all can be easy.” The words drawled out a syllable at a time. Two older ladies, wearing flowered hats, black dresses and sensible shoes stepped forward from the crowd. The ladies smiled, patted Casey and then Tyler on the arm. “Everyone deserves the happiness that true love can bring.” Patting their chests, the ladies nodded their heads. The only thing missing was the waving white handkerchief to complete the Southern Belle picture.
    “True love,” one said, sighing.
    “A truly wonderful thing,” the other said.
    “Ting you, ladies,” Tyler mumbled through the napkins.
    “We should get back to the room,” Casey said.
    The ladies giggled, probably thinking about what would happen once the new couple was alone and no longer bleeding. Wouldn’t they be surprised?
    The closest she planned on getting to Tyler was getting this nosebleed stopped.
    * * * *
    Mason entered the hall just in time to see Casey hustling a tall man with brown hair and a wad of napkins pressed to his face from the room. Everything went red.
    He opened the crumpled invitation he found under his door and frowned. An invitation to celebrate the marriage of Cassandra and Tyler Cash. Son of a bitch. She’d really duped him. Turned him from a hard-ass reporter to the nerd scurrying after the cheerleader. What an idiot.
    Had he slept with a married woman?
    Mason had done his share of randy things. Hell, once at a Halloween party, he’d slid into the pantry with a woman. They’d done things in front of the corn and green beans that would make Howard Stern blush.
    He had never slept with a married woman.
    At least not knowingly.
    Mason took a deep breath. He could paint a picture of her body. Pink toenails, nice legs. Her breasts were amazing. Her hands on his skin felt like heaven. Deep brown hair brushed against the creamy skin at her neck before plummeting down her back. Amazing blue eyes.
    But for the life of him, he couldn’t see her hands in his mind. Was she wearing a ring?
    And if she wasn’t married, just what was she celebrating with Tyler Cash?
    Stuffing the invitation back in his pocket, Mason crushed his right hand hard against his forehead and tried to concentrate. He thought she wore pink fingernail polish, but he couldn’t remember. How could he remember her toes, but not her fingers?
    He whirled at a tap on his shoulder. Tilly entered the room behind him, her new beau at her side. For the first time, Mason noticed she was slightly taller than the guy from the bar. Neither seemed to mind, though.
    “Is she here?” Tilly looked wildly around the room.
    Mason could barely make out the words as the band struck up at that moment. He leaned forward so Tilly’s mouth was close to his ear.
    “I didn’t miss her, did I?”
    Mason pointed to the door on the other side of the room. “She just left. She and some guy and another woman hurried out just a few minutes ago.”
    A frown marred Tilly’s face. “Dang it. She’s my favorite author. Now that Herb’s not running my life, I really need her advice. She could tell my story—I bet a lot of women start over at least once in their life.”
    “Mmm,” was all Mason could think to say. Up until two minutes ago, he thought Casey was starting over. Maybe even with him. Apparently not.
    “I guess I should thank you while you’re still here, though.” Tilly motioned to the man from the bar, stepped a little closer to Mason and lowered her voice. “Wally’s a real sweet man. He pulled my chair out for me at dinner. He’s an accountant, you know, and he makes numbers seem so interesting .”
    Oh, no. Tilly wasn’t putting all her rebound eggs in Wally's basket was she? This was bad. Really bad. Mason tried to interrupt, but Tilly