The Best Man Problem
Page 5
The woman who gave her life could have called her cell phone. She knew Lilly’s number. But her mother wouldn’t because she didn’t want to talk to Lilly her daughter. She wanted to talk to Lilly the wedding planner. How long had it been since her mother’s most recent divorce? Almost a year, she figured. The memory of her last phone conversation with her mother played over in her mind.
“Franklin is such a deceitful bastard. I can’t believe I ever married that louse!”
Far cry from the “Love God” her mother claimed him to be when she married the guy. “I’m sorry, Mom. Maybe you should come out to Colorado and we can spend some time—”
“Oh baby, I’d love to, but Stavros is taking me away to Cabo for the weekend.”
Of course her mother already had a new man. The ink from her previous divorce wasn’t even dry yet.
“He’s such a sweet guy. Not like those other jackasses who’ve pulled the wool over my eyes. Stavros is the real deal. A modern-day Prince Charming.”
Lilly shook her head, clearing the memory. Same line different man, ever since she could remember. She had no doubt her mother would repeat the call in a few years, but this time Stavros would be the ass and her new man would be the great catch. Just another spin around the next man, the next wedding, the next future heartbreak carousel. Exhausting, but it was her mother. What could she do?
“I’ll check our schedule and call her back later.”
They’d helped plan the last two of her mother’s weddings. She couldn’t say why she kept doing it. The money? Sure, money helped pay for things like rent and food. Daughterly duty? Perhaps, but the sad fact of the matter was, Lilly suspected she allowed herself to be a part of her mother’s ridiculous endless hunt for the perfect man because it was the only time her mother ever showed any interest in her child.
Sad? Yes, but if she wanted to spend time with her mother, it seemed someone had to get married, and since Lilly had zero prospects on that front, hello new stepfather.
“So.” Pru smiled, trying to lighten the mood her mother’s message had invoked. “Tell me more about Lincoln. Is he hot?”
“Sooooo freakin’ hot!”
“Mo!”
“She asked.”
“She asked me.”
“Oh, like you were going to answer.”
She hadn’t intended to. Yes, the man was attractive, but he was off-limits now. No need to keep discussing him. That was like talking about your favorite ice cream when you were on a diet. Pointless and punishing.
“How do you even know what he looks like? You weren’t here when he came in.”
The small woman shrugged, kissing Sasha on her tiny button nose before answering. “I googled him.”
“You did what? Why?”
“To make sure he wasn’t another asshole. I knew you wouldn’t check him out, so I did it for you.”
That was sweet of her friend, she supposed. Slightly creepy, but sweet.
“Wanna know what I found out?”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“Pru? Not you, too?”
The dark-haired woman shrugged. “Look, I’m not saying you should date the guy or engage in sexual activities with him again. In fact, you probably shouldn’t, considering…well, everything. But aren’t you just a little curious about him?”
No. She was perfectly happy with having one amazing night with Lincoln and never seeing him again. That was why she snuck out the morning after, but now…ugh! She couldn’t sit here and listen to what Mo uncovered. It felt…wrong. Like stalking. Internet searching was something you did when you were interested in someone, and she was no longer interested in Lincoln Reid. Not one bit.
“According to all his social media accounts, he’s single.”
Okay, she was a little interested.
“He has a degree from the University of Nebraska in computer science. Works as a software developer, whatever the hell that is. He’s in his early thirties, but I couldn’t pinpoint a birthday.”
And now it was getting creepy. She really couldn’t do this. Standing, she grabbed her purse from her desk drawer and slung the strap over her shoulder.
“I’m going out for coffee. You two want anything?”
Mo glanced to their perfectly working coffee machine behind her desk, a knowing gleam filling her eyes, but she was smart enough to keep her mouth shut.
Pru tilted her head in confusion. “No, thanks. Finn will be back soon to pick me up.”
“It was great seeing you. Enjoy the rest of your time off, and we’ll see you next week, right?”
Pru nodded. Lilly took time to kiss each of the twins on their adorable little heads before heading out of the office and down the street. She had no idea where she was going—she didn’t need coffee; they had an entire pot brewed no more than an hour ago. But after the message from her mom and the Lincoln stuff, the walls had started to close in. Her heartbeat had raced, and her throat swelled, making it hard to swallow. She needed air and a clear head.
She focused on the sound of her heels hitting the sidewalk, the feel of the chilly breeze against her skin. The slight stinging smell of cold in the air, signaling another impending snow.
Before too long, she got her body and mind calm once more. Lilly prided herself on keeping a cool head and solving any problem that came their clients’ way, but often what you did for others was hardest to do for yourself.
Glancing around, she noticed she’d made it all the way to the Art District on Santa Fe just a few blocks away. And would you look at that, she was right in front of Marie and Kenneth’s coffee shop, Déjà Brew. Perhaps she did need a cup after all.
She stepped inside the small coffee house, the warmth of the air inside melting her chilled bones from the walk over and reminding her that, in her haste to leave the office without overhearing any more Lincoln knowledge, she’d grabbed her purse but forgotten her coat. Dummy.
A quick glance around revealed a tidy and cozy type of atmosphere. She’d never been to her clients’ coffee shop. She liked it. The stack of classic board games in the corner and two shelves full of discounted used books gave the place a homey vibe. Not like those chain coffee shops where you came in for the latest trendy drink. This felt like a place a person could sit and enjoy a fine crafted beverage, maybe meet some friends for a game or stimulating conversation.
She made her way across the distressed hardwood floor to the counter, noticing the mishmash of tables, chairs, and cushioned seating filling the room. None of it matched, but that just made it feel more like someone’s living room than a place of business. Kenneth and Marie were savvy. Make the customer feel like they’re at home, and they’ll come back time and again. No wonder the couple could afford Genesee Manor for their wedding.
“Hi, welcome to Déjà Brew. I’m Tristan. What can I get for you?”
She had just opened her mouth to order when a deep, familiar voice spoke from behind her.
“Whatever she wants is on the house, Tristan.”
Whirling around, Lilly came face-to-face with the exact person who’d inadvertently driven her here in the first place. Lincoln Reid.
“What are you doing here? Where are Marie and Kenneth?”
He grinned—smug bastard—holding up a hand to explain.
“I’m here because Marie and Kenneth asked me to look after the shop. They’re having lunch with her parents right now, and even though Tristan is a good worker, he’s never manned the shop by himself before, so I’m here in case he needs any help.”
“We’re pretty quiet today, ma’am, but the fancy drinks take a little longer, and Mr. Reid offered to help if I get in a jam.”
Did he just ma’am her? Oh God, the kid looked about seventeen, eighteen tops, but that only made him about a decade younger than her. Was she really ma’am-looking now?
“
Just a coffee, please.” She smiled at the young man. Not his fault he made her feel old; the kid was just being polite and a good employee. “Room for cream and sugar.”
“We have a great fair-trade medium roast we just got in from—”
“That sounds perfect, thank you.” She didn’t need a big long spiel about where the beans came from. She just wanted to get her coffee and get out.
“No fancy coffee order?” Lincoln smiled. “Nothing with gobs of syrup and a dollop of whipped cream?”
She shook her head. “I prefer the simplicity of plain cream and sugar.”
“Not me.” His grin widened. “Give me all the sugary drinks, pumpkin spice, mocha latte, so sweet and full of vanilla. I need a sugar rush with my caffeine rush.”
Ew, just thinking of a drink that sweet made her gag. She couldn’t imagine the cavities this man must get from all that sugar. Who drank coffee that was basically a warm milkshake?
“So what brings you to the shop today?”
Lincoln stood at her side by the counter—far too close, in her opinion. Hadn’t he ever heard of personal space? And the man could wipe that annoying grin off his face while he was at it. She was simply here to get coffee. No other reason.
“Just needed to grab a breath of fresh air and a cup of coffee.”
His grin widened. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Why else would you think I was here?”
He shrugged, the movement of his broad shoulders sparking memories of them bare and glistening with sweat as he moved above her, bringing her body to the peak of pleasure. She cleared her suddenly dry throat. Humor entered his hazel eyes, followed by a blaze of heat that nearly knocked her on her ass.
Dammit! He knew what she’d been thinking. Stupid, sexy jerk had probably been remembering the exact same moment. Too bad, bucko—they were a one-and-done type deal. She’d been under him, and now she was over him.
“I didn’t come here looking for you.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “I never thought you did.”
Crap!
Maybe her subconscious had led her to Déjà Brew on the slim hope of finding Lincoln here. If she was going to learn more about the man, she wanted to hear it from the source, not her friends’ internet search. Not that she did want to learn more about him. She absolutely did not.
Not at all.
“Well, um, good. So, are you enjoying your visit to Denver?” Okay, maybe she wanted to know a little bit about him. If she found out something distasteful, then she had a reason to not like him.
“It’s great, but I’m not visiting.”
“What?”
“Here’s your coffee, ma’am.”
Lilly ignored the barista as he set her to-go cup on the counter, Lincoln’s words ringing in her ears, clanging out warning bells so loud they drowned out every other sound.
“What do you mean you’re not visiting?”
He had to be visiting. The only facts she had on her Lincoln-is-bad-on-paper list were that he was the best man in one of her weddings, he didn’t do relationships, and he didn’t live here. One issue would be resolved in a matter of weeks, and the others had to stick because he’d insinuated that he didn’t do long-term. She did not want to fall for a guy who was just up for a fling, because Lilly knew herself. She didn’t fling, she fell, and something told her falling for Lincoln Reed would be a very bad move.
“I live here now,” he clarified. “Just moved into my place this week.”
“Well that’s just perfect!”
He chuckled. “Are you sure? Because you don’t sound like it’s perfect. You kind of sound like you want to throw your coffee on me. Please don’t, by the way. I burn easily.”
Oh, ha-ha, look at Mr. Sexy and Funny being all attractive and available and ruining the perfectly good wall she had in place for starting any kind of relationship with him.
But he doesn’t do relationships.
Yes, she had to keep reminding herself of that very important fact.
Maybe I could just have a fling with him. A sexy, naked fling. I didn’t fall after one night. What’s the harm in a few more?
No she couldn’t! Could she? No. Absolutely not.
“You… I…just… Ugh!” She was so frustrated she couldn’t even think of a good comeback. Why was this man constantly throwing her off her game? She had to get out of here. Grabbing her coffee, she turned and headed toward the door.
“You forgot your cream and sugar,” Lincoln called after her, laughter in his voice.
Resisting the urge to flip him off—he was still a member of her current wedding party—she waved a hand in the air, speaking around clenched teeth. “I’ve got some in the office. Thanks.”
His deep, infectious laughter followed her out the door and into the midday air, which had gotten even chillier in the ten minutes she’d been in the coffee shop. Even his laugh was sexy. Perfect. Now how was she supposed to resist him?
At least she still had the wedding. She could cling to that for the next few weeks. Who knows, maybe she’d discover he had a balloon fetish or liked banana cream pie. Banana wasn’t a dessert, it was a fruit. She couldn’t be with a man who considered fruit a dessert. Oh please, please let Lincoln consider fruit a dessert.
But a tiny part of her worried that nothing she could list or point to would make any difference. She’d had Lincoln once, and, though her mind knew it was a bad idea, her body craved another go-round.
She sighed. “I am so screwed.”
Chapter Six
Two days later, Lilly and Mo stepped into The Gentleman’s Finery, a suit and tuxedo shop on the edge of the Cherry Creek shopping area. The locally owned store was small but had excellent service and quality, and, keeping with her clients’ wish to work with as many small business owners as possible, it fit the bill perfectly.
“Ms. Walsh, Ms. Rossi, how nice to see you again,” Mr. Tanaka, the shop owner, called out.
The older gentleman made his way to her side. He reached out his wrinkled, talented tailor hands to grasp first hers and then her roommate’s. The large, thick glasses magnified smiling eyes that never missed a single stitch despite the man’s advanced age and worsening astigmatism. She knew from many years of conversations with the man at various client fittings that he took over the shop from his father, who took over from his father, who started the business after he immigrated to America from Japan in the early 1920s.
“Mr. Tanaka.” Lilly smiled. “Always a pleasure.”
“With you two beautiful and talented ladies in my shop, the pleasure is always mine.”
Old flirt. If he weren’t thirty years older than her and madly in love with his wife of forty years, she’d snatch him right up. They fit perfectly on paper. Similar work fields, but not so similar as to cause marital issues; they both enjoyed the opera—she knew because he and his wife had given her their box tickets one night when they couldn’t attend, best work perk ever—and they always had stimulating conversations. If only the Tanakas had a son. The couple did have two daughters. One who helped run the shop and the other who was away obtaining her PhD.
“I presume you’re both here to oversee the Buller fitting?”
She nodded. “Yes. The gentlemen should be arriving any minute. Do you need us to help set anything up, or would we just be in your way?”
“You two could never be in my way.” He motioned to the small collection of chairs and couches in the back of the shop. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ve got everything prepared. Why don’t you both go sit and wait while I gather the gentlemen’s tuxes?”
With that, the man hurried into the private back section of the store. Lilly followed Mo to the sitting area.
“When will the guys be here?”
She glanced at the time on her phone before answering her business partner. “Any minute now.”
“We should have six men total. The father of the bride, father of the groom, ring bearer, the two groomsmen, and the groom.”
“How old is the ring bearer?” Mo had her own binder sitting at her feet with all the answers she needed, but the woman’s eyes were closed in bliss as she sank deeper into the chair.
What was that thing made of? Cotton candy?
Lilly scanned her notes. “He’s six.”
“Yes.” Mo’s pale brown eyes shot open. “Perfect age. Old enough to get the job done without crying down the aisle or throwing the ring pillow at the bride.” Both of which they’d witnessed before. “But young enough not to be a punk ass.”
Oh dear, she felt a headache coming on. Setting her binder in her lap, she removed her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Moira, please, whatever you do, do not call the ring bearer a ‘punk ass’ in front of any member of the wedding party.”
Mo laughed. “Oh, come on, like I would ever do anything like that. You worry too much, Lil.”
She worried just the right amount, thank you very much. It was her roommate and business partner who didn’t worry enough. Mo believed everyone was good—even punk-ass kids—and all would turn out right in the end no matter what. Her poor, delusional friend wouldn’t believe she was going to drown even if someone strapped a cement block to her legs and pushed her into the Platte River.
“Just—” The chime above the shop door rang out. Lilly glanced over her shoulder to see Kenneth stepping in the front door, a group of men shuffling behind him. “Be nice.”
Mo scrunched her nose in confusion. “I’m always nice.”
True, but the woman had a snarky sense of humor not appreciated by everyone. It was why Lilly handled most of the customer-facing tasks while Pru handled the finances and Mo worked with vendors. But with a group this large, she needed backup.
Liar! You want Mo here so you don’t jump Lincoln’s fine bod again.