The Groom Wager (Wrong Way Weddings Book 1)

by Lori Wilde

  “Okay. By the way, black isn’t your color.” He glanced toward the bedroom, where half the dresses on the bed were black.

  “No, but it’s yours. The party is black tie. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

  Underneath his golden-brown tan lay the blanched visage of a man who’d just been trapped into wearing a tux. “See you tomorrow evening,” she purred.

  6

  The most stunning woman Cole had ever seen was standing beside a giant flower arrangement in the center of the vast hotel lobby.

  She wore a long shimmering blue evening dress, sleeveless and slit on the one side all the way to her thigh. With her upswept hairdo, she looked like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

  Wow, what were his chances of hooking up with her?

  His mouth went dry, and his body tightened.

  Pull it together, Bailey.

  He glanced around but didn’t see Tess. What was this mysterious black-tie event she’d invited him to attend?

  What if there wasn’t an event. What if she’d been asking him on a date? His heart leapt at the possibility, and his pulse raced. Aww, come on, Bailey. She doesn’t think about you like that. If she did, why would she be rustling up women for you?

  Heck, he might not need her help. He was going in. What’s the worst that could happen? The Audrey Hepburn look-alike would tell him to scram, but in an elegant way befitting her poise and beauty.

  He walked toward the lovely vision, half expecting her to vanish like a mirage.

  Instead, she turned slightly and looked directly at him with a mischievous little smile.

  Holy cow! He blinked. He hadn’t felt this winded since the helmet of a football defensive lineman connected with his solar plexus way back in high school. “Tess?”

  “Did you have trouble parking?” Her voice was light, teasing, confident. She knew she looked good.

  He felt a sudden rush of gratitude that tonight’s blind date had canceled. “I managed to get into the parking garage after I maneuvered around all the stretch limos. Where did they all come from? What is going on? Is some politician in town?”

  She ignored his questions and studied the length of him, then smirked. “You cleaned up well—the tux looks good.”

  “You, too.” He was trying not to stare, but his eyes had a mind of their own. “Why didn’t you let me pick you up? I borrowed Zack’s vintage Mustang.”

  “Oh, meeting here worked better for me.” She smiled so slyly he was even more mystified. She was up to something.

  “I’m glad you didn’t wear black,” he murmured. “In that color, you’re a knockout.”

  Her cheeks pinked—happily, some things never changed. “Glad you did.”

  Enough of small talk. He wanted to tell her she looked gorgeous, stunning, fantastic, but this was Tess. He couldn’t tell a friend she was so beautiful he felt as if he’d fallen on his head and saw stars.

  “Shall we?” He offered his arm. “What’s this party for, anyway?”

  “It’s in the Windsor Room.” Again, she dodged his question and led him through the elegant old hotel.

  People dressed in their black-tie best were filing into the ballroom. Was this a wedding reception?

  He got a peek inside the ballroom as they waited. The tables were arranged in a large T and covered with place settings on white linen. It was the centerpieces that really caught his eye. Huge arrangements of orchids, exotic lilies, and other florists’ fancies were festooned with baby rattles and clusters of pink and blue pacifiers.

  Huh?

  “A baby shower? But for whom? The governor’s daughter? A movie star? Oprah?” He wanted to erase her Mona Lisa smile, shake her composure, make her tell him what was going on. But the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him he already knew in his heart of hearts.

  “Wow,” she murmured. “I didn’t know you had such a vivid imagination.” She wrapped her arm around his bicep, indicating that she wanted him to escort her through the doorway.

  Any other time he would’ve enjoyed the tingles racing through him at her touch. Right now, though, he was miffed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Would you have come?”

  “Hell no.”

  “Touché.”

  “What is this?”

  “A reception to kick off the new winter catalog.”

  “But why are we here?”

  “Your grandfather invited me.”

  “He’s using you to lure me here.”

  “Certainly not. I didn’t even speak to him personally, but I was told I could bring an escort. You were supposed to have a date tonight, remember? Anyway, if you remember, you asked to come with me.”

  “Because you didn’t have a date. I was trying to help.”

  “Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes at him hard.

  “You could’ve warned me where we were going.”

  “Would you have backed out?”

  “No, I asked you. I’d still be here,” he said, hoping it was true.

  “You don’t have to sound so stoic. This should be fun.”

  “Fun.” He snorted. “The old man wants me involved in the family business. This is just another of his ploys. He’s a manipulator. Don’t trust him.”

  A waiter ambled by with a silver tray of champagne goblets filled to the brim. Cole snagged two and handed one of them to Tess.

  “I hate this stuff,” he said. “It gives me a headache.”

  “No wonder, if you gulp it down like a sports drink.”

  “Well, we’re here. Let’s do this thing.” He put his free arm around her and rested his hand on her shapely, near-bare shoulder. Her hip brushed his, and he almost forgot to breathe.

  He spied his grandfather talking to people from the board of directors, and the urge to bolt swept over him. But Cole wasn’t a coward. He straightened his spine and tacked on a smile.

  Marsh broke away from a group and came toward them. “Tess, I’m so pleased you could come.”

  “Thank you for inviting me.”

  His grandfather gave Tess one of his two-handed grips, a handshake that involved her entire arm. Then with a raised eyebrow, he turned to Cole. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

  “I bet you are, Gramps.”

  There was nothing the old silver fox disliked more than being called Gramps. He was still holding Tess’ hand, but he addressed Cole. “May I steal this lovely lady for a few minutes?”

  “Five minutes is all I can spare her,” he warned, suddenly feeling jealous as hell that his grandfather was stealing away his time with Tess.

  “It was nice of you to wear a tux.” Marsh made the compliment sound like a pat on the head to a well-behaved dog. With a sour taste in his mouth, Cole watched as his grandfather put a palm to Tess’ upper back and guided her meet a group of distributors.

  Cole got cornered by an old friend who was a Tigers fan with a lot of ideas to improve the ball club. He sipped champagne and tried to inch away, but the baseball fanatic stuck. He looked around for Tess. She’d disappeared in the crowd.

  An eternity and another glass of champagne later, he was ready to ditch the party and go home. But he’d be damned if he’d let Tess fend for herself.

  “Cole, I’m so glad you came.” His mother’s face lit up, and she came over to hug him. She was wearing a beaded beige jacket and dress, and he hadn’t seen her so happy and animated in a long time. Running the business was really good for her.

  “Hi, Mom,” he smiled genuinely. “You look great.”

  “Tess is the one who looks absolutely lovely. She’s really blossomed since she tutored you in English.” His mother nodded, and he followed her gaze to where Tess was talking to a tall, swarthy man. A fresh kick of jealousy kneed him.

  “Yeah, blossomed.” He talked to his mother until she was interrupted by an old friend, and she abandoned him, too. Finally, dinner was served.

  Cole tried to find Tess again, but she was petite and easily got lost in t
he crowd. He took one of the last empty seats at the banquet table, half expecting to see his date enthroned at the head table with his grandfather.

  She wasn’t.

  He didn’t spot her until the beef medallions and wild rice with wine sauce had disappeared and the after-dinner wits were standing up to make toasts. She’d been hidden beside a massive blond German who stood and made some remarks in an accent too thick for Cole’s equally thick brain to decipher.

  Tess laughed so hard, he thought she’d shake down her fancy hairdo off her gorgeous head.

  Good thing they weren’t on a real date. He’d be feeling pretty testy by now.

  He had to get away to clear his head. This whole night was getting to him in a way he didn’t expect. He’d ask one of the servers if there was access to the roof. He needed some air.

  Now.

  Tess watched Cole sneak out.

  She’d wanted to sit with him at dinner, but Marsh practically threw her at Johann, her dinner companion. She couldn’t blame the senior Bailey for wanting to keep an important customer entertained, but he was accustomed to getting his way, and she didn’t like being used.

  As soon as she could, she excused herself and went looking for him. She found Cole with a little help from a server who remembered seeing him get on an express elevator to the rooftop lounge.

  The Roof Garden was a bar with a view. The place was outdoors, dark, intimate, a hideaway for clandestine lovers, lonely traveling salespeople, and serious drinkers. Thankfully, Tess was spared the embarrassment of searching through the shadows. Cole perched on a bar stool, one foot on a brass rail.

  He didn’t see her coming.

  She couldn’t say the devil made her do it, but the little rascal perched on her left shoulder must have applauded when she came up behind Cole and tickled his ribs on either side.

  He yelped and jumped off the stool. Served him right for sitting like that, one cute, round bun hanging off his seat.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” He spoke with the exaggerated precision of someone who’d already had quite a few.

  “Ginger ale, please.” After champagne and dinner followed by a sinfully rich chocolate mousse, she was stuffed.

  “Is the party over?” he asked.

  “The band was just warming up when I left.”

  “A simple reception huh?”

  “I have a feeling that with your grandfather nothing is simple.”

  “Won’t Hans expect to dance with you?” He sounded sardonic.

  “Don’t be petulant. It’s not a good look. Your grandfather asked me to sit with him. And for the record, his name is Johann. Plus, you could have rescued me.”

  “You didn’t want to sit with Johann?” His tone perked up, and his eyes looked hopeful.

  “Of course not.”

  “Really?”

  Was he that dense? Did he not realize the raging crush she’d had on him in high school was smoldering back to life?

  Smoldering? Ha. It was a forest fire.

  She shifted her weight, not sure how to process this. Luckily, her ginger ale came. She sipped as watched Cole her with hooded eyes.

  “We can leave now, if you like,” she said.

  He shook his head. “This is your night on the town. I apologize for mucking it up. I’m just so used to the overshow of wealth I forget how dazzling it can be to someone who didn’t grow up with it.”

  “I’m not dazzled.”

  “No?” Again, that hopeful tone in his voice.

  I’m dazzled by you, lunkhead. She didn’t want the evening to end. Not because of the fine food and dancing. No, this was her one chance to play Cinderella, and she’d hardly spent any time at all with Prince Charming.

  “Great, then let’s blow this popsicle stand.” He drained the tall, damp beer stein.

  “What exactly is a popsicle stand?” Tess asked. “I’ve never seen a popsicle stand. Snow cone stand, yes. Popsicle truck, yes. Popsicle stand, not so much.”

  “It’s something Marsh used to say when we were growing up.”

  “That doesn’t sound like your grandfather to me. He’s very elegant and erudite.”

  “Don’t let the tux and fancy surroundings fool you.” Cole grunted. “Marsh pulled himself up by the bootstraps. He was born on the wrong side of the tracks, but he never let that stop him. The man has an iron will and phenomenal desire to succeed at all costs.”

  Tess studied Cole. “You admire him.”

  Cole lifted one shoulder. “I can respect what he’s achieved.”

  “But…?”

  A frown cleaved Cole’s brow. “He’s my grandfather, and I love him, but I don’t like the way he manipulates people.”

  Tess nodded. She got that. Marsh Bailey could be high-handed for sure.

  “Do you really want to leave?” he asked.

  She didn’t. She wanted to go back to the ballroom and dance with him, but she couldn’t muster the courage to suggest it. Instead, she nodded.

  “Let’s go.” He hopped off the bar stool, picked up his credit card off the bar, and left a hefty tip.

  She abandoned half of her ginger ale, disappointed he hadn’t offered to let her finish it. He must really want to get rid of her.

  They took the elevator to the ground floor. When they got off, he slipped his arm through hers and steered her toward the ballroom.

  “I thought you wanted to leave,” she said.

  “What kind of escort would I be if I didn’t dance at least one dance with you?”

  “You don’t have to dance with me, Cole. I did withhold crucial information about where we were going. I know it’s the last place you’d choose to be.”

  “But I’m here now.” He smiled at her. “I’m going to make the best of it.”

  Her heart gave a little bounce.

  The dance band was playing the old Motown hit, “I Can’t Help Myself” as Cole led her toward the polished floor at the far end of the room. In high school, she’d dreamed of dancing with him so often, this moment seemed totally surreal.

  She felt the warmth of his hand on her waist and closed her eyes, letting him lead her in a pattern of steps that didn’t quite register. She could feel his starchy white shirtfront and black satin lapels against her cheek.

  “You’re a good dancer,” he whispered, his breath warm and ticklish on her ear.

  “Only because you lead so well.”

  He laughed softly. “Flattery isn’t your style.”

  “Isn’t it possible I’m just being honest?”

  He rested his cheek against her forehead and moved with the fluid grace that had first made her admire him. He’d been the star at her first track meet in high school. She took third in girls’ broad jump, and he collected a slew of blue ribbons. He’d excelled in all sports, but his athletic prowess never seemed to go to his head.

  She had a new passion—slow dancing. What could be dreamier than moving when Cole moved, surrendering herself to his rhythmic slide and glide?

  Every time he twirled or dipped, she seemed to end up closer to him. Her breasts flattened against his broad, hard chest, and his hand strayed lower down her back, his fingers resting lightly on her hip. If this were anyone but Cole, she’d think he was coming on to her.

  “May I cut in?” Johann, Nordic-blond and gorgeous, hovered.

  “Sorry, we don’t allow cuts in Detroit. Local custom,” Cole said, not relinquishing his hold on her. He whirled Tess away.

  “That wasn’t very nice,” she said.

  “I’m not trying to be nice,” he murmured.

  You’d think we were lovers, Tess thought wistfully when the music ended as the band took a break.

  “I wish,” he said, keeping his arm around her waist, “I hadn’t tried to run up Grandpa’s champagne bill.”

  “If you want to leave now...”

  No matter how many times Cinderella’s big scene played out, the ball always ended badly.

  “Think I’d better call for an Uber. No way shoul
d I drive.”

  “I agree, but I can drop you off in my limo.”

  “Your what?”

  “Limo. Your grandfather sent it for me.”

  “That’s why you had me meet you here.”

  “Would you have come if you’d known it was a Bailey Baby Products reception?”

  “I am a man of my word,” he said with mock indignation.

  She couldn’t quite believe it, but the long, sleek vehicle was waiting exactly as the driver had promised. She felt decadent and giddy and pampered, all at the same time, but mostly she wanted Cole to keep his arm across her shoulders.

  The business of giving the driver instructions was a letdown. He insisted it was much more convenient to drop her off first, and he’d be on overtime in approximately twenty minutes. Tess couldn’t waste Marsh’s money even though he probably wouldn’t notice or care if they went the longer route to take Cole home first.

  The back seat was far too wide. She sat by one window. Cole by the other. There was space for a pair of Great Danes between them, and Cole gave no move to bridge the gap.

  “I’ll walk you to the door,” he offered when the limo pulled up in front of her apartment complex.

  “You don’t need to. It’s not as if this was a date.”

  He slid over to her side and came out of the vehicle behind her when the driver opened the door. The walk to her place was maybe twenty feet. She wished it were twenty miles.

  At her door, a small porch light came on, triggered by their motion. Before, the light had been a comfort when she got home after dark. Now she wanted darkness to swallow them up.

  “Well,” he said. “I guess this is good night.”

  “I guess so.”

  Neither of them moved. His gaze drilled into hers. She moistened her lips. He lowered his head.

  Was he really going to kiss her? Her heart was racing so hard she was afraid he’d hear it. “Cole…”

  “Tess.” His lips came closer.

  She told herself to shut up. Once she would’ve done anything—anything at all—for a good-night kiss from him. Now she had a chance to see if he lived up to her fantasies, but should she?

  His lips parted, and she quivered with anticipation, afraid she’d betray how much this kiss meant to her.