by R. J. Groves
‘Don’t try to hide it, Andie.’ Oh, God, he was closer again. ‘The burger? Walking out on the meal saying you’re not hungry, then eating all my food at the cinema? Hell, even your choice of movie? You can’t tell me that’s what you watch all the time.’
She shrugged indifferently. So, he’d worked it out. She had been sabotaging the date. Surely his discovery would only reinforce the fact that there shouldn’t be a second one. Still, she wasn’t going to say she’d done it on purpose.
He held her gaze sternly, then nodded, taking a step backwards. She felt her lungs fill with air again, though it still didn’t feel like a victory. ‘We’re having a do-over,’ he said. Confident. Sure of his words.
She frowned, her stomach dropping to the ground. ‘Says who?’
‘Me.’
‘No.’
‘Whether you like it or not, Andie, we’re having a do-over.’
‘You do not get to demand a do-over.’
‘Of course I do.’
‘No, you don’t.’ She stamped her foot to emphasise her point. His eyebrow lifted. ‘Our deal was one date, and that’s over now. Done and dusted.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong, Andie,’ he said, stepping closer again. His sudden movement took her by surprise and she stepped backwards, only to have her back press against the cold hard door. ‘Our deal was a date, meaning that it wouldn’t be sabotaged by one of the participating parties.’
‘And what makes you think I’d want to go on another date with you?’
She saw something twitch near his jaw. ‘You’re not exactly pleasant to be around, either.’
Oh, how he angered her. ‘You are an entitled jerk.’ Her fists clenched by her side. Hell, her whole body felt as though it had tensed. He might be bigger than her, but she wasn’t going to be bullied into doing something she didn’t want to do.
But was it?
What if she did want more?
‘And you,’ he growled, his face mere inches from hers, ‘are bloody infuriating.’
She glared at him, and he held her gaze with his hard, cold eyes. It was hard to see the colour of them in the near-darkness, but she imagined the glimpse of blue she’d seen in his grey eyes was all gone. There was nothing but coldness, she was sure. Dark, steel eyes.
She was infuriating? If only he could look at himself. His eyes bored into hers, his lips pressed tightly together. Her blood was boiling to the surface, and at the same time, her senses were all alert, washing over her like icy water that somehow left her… wanting. It surprised her. She faltered, her lips parting slightly, a small puff of air escaping through them.
God, she hadn’t known that his eyes could have darkened any more, but they did, and she could have sworn she heard a rumble coming from him. He tilted his head so slightly she almost missed it. It was as if he was … debating. He swore, and before she knew it, his mouth was on hers. Hard, demanding. A shot of electricity pulsed through her body, leaving no nerve untouched. The kiss ended as abruptly as it started, but left her feeling like she had no control of herself. Her fingertips instinctively touched her lips.
His eyes were still dark, but now studied her with what looked like … surprise. Shock? He opened his mouth as if to say something, but was cut short by her hand slapping his cheek.
She felt her own eyes widen, feeling the surprise as much as he did. She’d never slapped anyone before—not even Joseph, who, God knows, deserved a hell of a lot more than that. And in that very brief moment of hesitation where he wasn’t looking at her, she wasn’t sure how he was going to react. Was he the kind of guy to be infuriated by being slapped? Anyone would be. But what would he do about it? She was unsure.
‘Oh, Andie,’ he said, his tone cold, distant. She swallowed again, and her fingers tightened around the keys in her hand. ‘You shouldn’t have done that.’ He met her gaze on the last word he spoke, and cupped her face in his big strong hands, pulling her closer to meet him halfway.
Had she expected him to kiss her again?
No.
Had she wanted him to?
Maybe.
Deep down.
Way deep down.
He pulled her even closer, kissing her hard, thoroughly. And she obliged. Oh, God, she obliged. Her arms instinctively wrapped around the back of his neck, and his lowered down her back, pressing her body against his, walking her backwards until her back was once again pressed against the door. His kiss was intoxicating, dizzying, and it made her legs feel weak. She was grateful for the door behind her and his arms holding her upright. She didn’t want him knowing that his kisses made it hard to stand. Or that they shot a fiery path to burn in her stomach, bringing all her senses alive.
His tongue pressed against the part between her lips and she let him in, letting herself take in his taste, his masculinity. Him. She dug her hands in his hair and felt one of his hands slide up her back to tangle in hers. She felt a tug, followed by the fall of her hair against her shoulders. He cupped the back of her head and kissed her deeper. It felt so … right. But it was wrong. So wrong.
His lips moved over her chin, along her jaw, and to the sensitive part of her neck where he kissed and nibbled, tasting her. God, any thought of wrong left before it could settle. Now, she just wanted him. All of him. She heard a soft moan and realised it could only have come from her. He froze. And, as though he’d just been shocked by electricity, he released her, jerking backwards.
She pressed into the door for support and felt the cool night air wash over her where the warmth of his body had just been. And God, was she panting? Hell, if she saw correctly, he was panting. He had his back towards her, but she could tell by the rise and fall of his shoulders. He was breathing heavily. Had she offended him? Had she done something wrong? She racked her brain for an answer but came up empty.
He swore, though she wasn’t sure he intended for her to hear it. Her lip quivered, and she bit into it. Why should it hurt that he’d stopped so suddenly? Apart from the fact that she would need to have a very cold shower to stop herself thinking about him like … like … that. Finally, slowly, he turned slightly, his back still mostly towards her, his head turned to the side, not looking at her.
‘That won’t happen again,’ he said gruffly. Matter-of-factly. She wanted to slap him again. Harder. ‘Goodnight, Andie.’
He didn’t wait for a response from her—just as well, since she wasn’t sure she could conjure one up—before walking to his car. Hell, he didn’t even look back at her. She was sure she saw him hesitate for the briefest of moments before climbing in, but not a single glance at her. It wasn’t until his car was out of her sight that she felt herself breathe again and she slid down her door until she was sitting on the doormat. Alone. In darkness. Staring at where his car had been.
What the hell just happened?
Why did it leave her feeling so completely empty and confused inside?
And where the bloody hell had her keys gone?
Chapter 8
Tay tapped his fingers against his leg impatiently, glancing at his phone to check the time. God, how long did it take to take measurements? He glanced back up the street to check the bridal shop. He wasn’t supposed to come with Libby to get her measurements. Hell, he’d never even intended on it. Why would he be needed after the dress had already been bought?
Still, it wasn’t as if he was in there with them. He was simply Libby’s ride. Despite the fact that she could drive herself. And that he was sitting in his car a few doors down feeling like he was spying on them. No, Andie wouldn’t see him here, and he’d instructed Libby not to breathe a word about him to her. He tilted his head to the side at the thought of what Libby would say if Andie asked about him. Well … he hadn’t thought about that.
He rubbed at a speck of dust on his dashboard.
Andie.
Well …
She was a whole other kettle of fish. He didn’t even know how to begin explaining her. The way he couldn’t resist kissing her, seeing
if she tasted as sweet as he’d imagined. She hadn’t, of course—she’d tasted far better. There was no way he could have imagined how addictive she was. How the simple taste of her had him wanting more, to the point of doing anything to get what he wanted.
Hell.
It was a wonder he’d even managed to stop kissing her, let alone keep himself from waltzing back into her shop now and kissing her senseless to see how real it was. To make sure his mind hadn’t made up some kind of illusion about her. Three whole days had passed since that kiss and he was already partway through the fourth. And he couldn’t get that fiery woman out of his damn head.
But they were impossible.
He had to remember that.
He’d been close to someone before, and it had been the biggest mistake of his life. He couldn’t let that happen again. He couldn’t expose himself to that kind of shattering experience again—and Andie definitely had it in her to do the shattering. Intentionally or not.
She was a beautiful woman, and she’d made it obvious they wouldn’t get along, that she didn’t even like him. But that kiss …
No.
He couldn’t think about that kiss.
He just had to make sure that the right thing was done. And if that meant he had to recruit Libby’s help, then so be it.
He was brought back to the present when Libby slid into the passenger seat and closed the car door.
‘Well?’ he said, impatiently. ‘Did you do it?’
Libby scowled at him and took her sweet-ass time buckling her seatbelt. ‘Oh, the fitting went well, thanks for asking.’
‘Libby,’ he urged. ‘Did she take it?’
She continued scowling at him. Then, probably resigning herself to the fact that he was only interested in one thing, she sighed, dug her hand into her purse, and held a wad of cash out to him. He felt his jaw clench as he took the money back. Stubborn wench.
‘Did you say it was from me?’ He had to know. Had to know if it was him she was making a point to.
‘Of course not, idiot. You told me not to,’ Libby said, turning in her seat to face him better. ‘Why is it so important to you, anyway? It’s not like you to want to pay full price for something you’d bargained down.’
He shrugged, and pulled out onto the road to avoid having to look at his sister while she interrogated him. ‘I thought about what you said,’ he said. Then he continued when she didn’t respond. ‘About digging into her commission. You were right. I felt bad.’
‘Okay,’ she said slowly. ‘So, why didn’t you go in and give it to her?’
He scrunched his nose up in indifference. Of course, he hadn’t breathed a word about his date with Andie to his sister—or to Connor, for that matter, since it would definitely get back to Libby if he did. No, he kept Libby unaware of his relations with women. He knew she suspected he’d been with some, of course. He simply never talked about them. Or introduced them. He hadn’t been the only one fooled last time. The very fact that Libby already knew Andie was dangerous territory.
‘Figured she didn’t want to see me after I’d bartered her down.’
Not entirely a lie. He had no doubt that she didn’t want to see him. And if she did … Well, he couldn’t see her. Not without aching to have her in his arms again. Best to avoid her altogether. He glanced at Libby to see her eyebrow raised.
‘Coward’s way out?’ she teased.
He shrugged. ‘Perhaps.’
The less she knew, the better. Besides, maybe he was taking the coward’s way out. He certainly felt like a coward. He needed something to take his mind off her. Clearly, offering to drive Libby there under the guise that he wanted to spend some time with his sister was a bad idea. It only made him think about her more. And the more he thought about Andie, the more he knew that they were wrong for each other.
How so?
For starters, she made a living appealing to the romanticised idea of happily-ever-afters. And if she wanted to work in a bridal shop, she would believe in happily-ever-afters. Fairy tales. Prince charming. Love at first sight. And all other kinds of bullshit that went with it.
The fact of the matter was, it didn’t exist. Not for him.
Libby sighed next to him. He hazarded a glance, relieved to find she was looking out the window. He would have asked if she was okay, but he knew he didn’t have to. She would tell him if something was wrong. It’s what she always did. She’d tell him, and he’d do his damnedest to fix it. She was his sister. How could he not?
She sighed again, and he knew she wasn’t far off spilling whatever was on her mind. He shot a look towards her and, sure enough, she began.
‘I have to ask you something, Tay.’ He nodded for her to go on. She hesitated a moment. ‘Why … why are you doing this?’
His body tensed, and he forced himself to relax. Doing what? Giving a woman he’d really only just met more attention than he should? Feeling bad about cutting into her commission? Offering to drive Libby to her fitting when he could have simply sent the money with her? Hoping he wouldn’t have to talk to Andie again but maybe, secretly, somewhere in his messed-up thinking, hoping he might catch a glimpse of her?
‘Hmm?’
‘Paying for the wedding,’ she said. ‘And wanting to be so … involved. Most guys prefer to sit on the sidelines, you know?’
He flashed her a brotherly smile. ‘I’m not most guys, remember?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘So you like to remind me. My point is, you know that Connor and I can afford it. So, why do you insist on paying?’
He slowed the car to a stop at a red light and glanced at her. ‘You’re my sister,’ he said. ‘Come on, Libby. You know Dad would have wanted to pay for your wedding.’
‘And since he’s gone, you’re doing it for him.’ It was more a statement than a question.
‘Yes,’ he said simply. ‘And besides, I’ve got to look out for you. I can’t have you spending all of Connor’s money before you’re married.’
She glared at him, but she was smiling. ‘No, I’ll just spend yours instead.’
The light changed to green and he started driving again. ‘Which is why I insist on being there for the decision making.’
‘Still,’ she said, eyeing him off. ‘It’s not like you’ve kept me on a tight leash. Won’t you need that money?’
‘I’ll live.’
‘What about the—’ She broke off when she glanced over at him. After so many years, it still seemed to be a touchy issue for her. As though she thought he was sensitive about it.
‘The shelter won’t suffer. I’m paying for the wedding out of my personal savings.’
She lifted an eyebrow and he knew what she was thinking. Why would he need to have personal savings when he had more than enough money to keep him going strong for a very long time? Sure, he could see why someone else in his situation might not organise their money that way. But he did it for reasons like this. He didn’t want certain areas to suffer. And if his money was allocated accordingly, then he could more easily keep track of where it was going.
‘Your personal savings, Tay?’ she said, unbelieving. ‘Won’t you need it for your own wedding?’
‘Nope.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s not happening.’
‘You don’t plan on getting married?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Talk about interrogations. He should have known her question about money would lead to ones about his non-existent love life. ‘You know why.’
She sighed. ‘Tay, you can’t give up any chance of love because of—’ He shot a look her way and she stopped short. Libby knew better than to say her name. ‘My point is,’ she continued, ‘it didn’t work out with … her … but it doesn’t mean it’s not going to work out with someone else.’
‘They’re all the same, Libby,’ he said, focusing on the road in front of him. ‘They all want me for the same thing.’
He flashed her a mischievous grin. ‘No need to be so grim.’
‘I’m serious, Tay.’
‘All right, well,’ he started. ‘Some will go to the shelter. The rest is conditional.’
‘On?’
‘On you and Connor having kids.’ When she responded with a confused look, he continued. ‘I’ll be the favourite uncle, right?’
Her mouth dropped open and she nodded in recognition. She knew that he meant he didn’t plan on having kids. How could he, when he didn’t plan on getting that close to anyone? Sure, at first he might have struggled with the realisation he wouldn’t have a chance to have kids of his own. But once Libby and Connor got together, well, the thought of being an uncle offered some consolation. He’d take his nieces and nephews under his wings, teach them everything he knew. He’d set them up. Look out for them in ways that only an uncle could.
Still …
It didn’t quite ease the hollowness inside.
He felt his sister’s gaze on him as he pulled up in his work’s car park. He glanced at her. She was frowning, looking as though she was debating how much to say to him.
‘What?’ he said. She shook her head, but she didn’t look any more relieved. ‘Spit it out, Libby.’
‘You’re just so …’
‘So what?’ he prompted when she didn’t continue.
‘Thick-headed.’
He laughed. Trust his sister to say it how it was.
‘I’m serious, Tay,’ she said, whacking him on the arm. ‘I worry about you, you know? Not all women are horrible monsters.’
He laughed again. ‘I know they’re not. I simply said there’s no one for me.’
‘Oh, that’s rubbish and you know it.’
‘No, it’s not,’ he said flatly.
‘You can’t know that there’s no one out there for you.’
‘No one wants a—’ Criminal. ‘Someone like me, Libby. Not for the right reasons.’
‘You’re being ridiculous. I just don’t want to see you sabotaging anything that could potentially be good for you.’