by R. J. Groves
Libby’s eyebrow lifted. ‘You mean a bodysuit?’
‘No, I mean a onesie,’ he said gruffly. ‘A big, fluffy, full-length onesie. Preferably one that covers every inch of your body.’
He heard a sound halfway between a snort and a laugh come from Andie’s direction, but he refused to look at her. Libby chuckled. Knowing Connor, he would probably find her adorable in a onesie. He didn’t want to think of what Connor would think about Libby wearing lingerie. A lot, he’d imagine. The bastard would probably enjoy himself. Immensely. No, he couldn’t imagine anything for his sister. But Andie … Oh, he could imagine a lot for her.
‘I’m thinking a sheer two-piece with a hint of lace,’ Andie said. ‘Don’t you think that would look good?’ She directed her question towards him.
Now he met her gaze and fixed her with a hard stare. Her expression was still challenging. Well, two could play at that game. ‘Yes, it would,’ he said decisively, holding her gaze. ‘But not for my sister.’
He watched as her breath caught. Her eyes grew wide and darkened, and he knew that she understood what he really meant from his statement. But what could he say? She was making it very difficult to not think about how she would look in lingerie.
He held her gaze a moment longer, a silent promise of sorts. Her lips parted slightly, and her chest heaved. He wondered how much she knew was going on in his head right now, and wondered if the same went through hers. His sister cleared her throat awkwardly, and Andie blinked a few times before tearing her gaze away from him.
‘Okay, well,’ Libby said slowly. ‘We were actually talking about cake, but thank you for that very … interesting … display of awkwardness.’ She shoved two plates towards him. ‘Which one?’
He glanced down at the two selections in front of him. Chocolate mud and a simple vanilla. ‘Mud,’ he said, sipping his bourbon instead of tasting the cake. ‘Everyone loves mud cake.’
He heard Andie mumble something and returned his focus towards her. The mischievous look on her face had been replaced with one that was much more serious. Her arms were folded defensively across her chest.
‘You don’t agree?’ he prompted.
She glanced up at him, then diverted her gaze once more. ‘Mud cakes are for birthdays, not weddings. Vanilla is the clear choice. White is a wedding theme, after all.’
He spread his arms out beside him. ‘Why ask my opinion then?’ He nudged the vanilla cake towards Libby and pulled the mud cake closer to him, stabbing a fork into a generous serve of it. ‘Clearly, your mind is already made up.’ He ate the mouthful of delicious mud cake and caught Andie’s eye for a brief moment. Her cheeks darkened and she looked away again, taking a deep breath.
‘But isn’t vanilla too … plain?’ Libby said, unsure.
‘Vanilla is safe,’ Andie said, focusing all of her attention on Libby. Tay took another bite of the mud cake and studied her. Clearly, she was avoiding looking at him. She’d shifted in her seat to better focus on Libby. ‘I guarantee that less than half the people attending the wedding will like any of the other flavours.’
‘Not the mud cake,’ he said around his mouthful. ‘Everyone likes mud cake. And if they don’t, they’ll like this one.’
‘Oh, enough with the mud cake,’ Andie shot towards him, frowning. ‘Mud cake for birthdays. Vanilla for weddings.’
‘And the plainness?’ he said, scraping up the last of the cake and eating it.
‘A flavoured frosting,’ she said, as though the answer were obvious. She focused back on Libby. ‘Buttercream goes well. Or a white chocolate ganache. Decorated with flowers and little bells. A bit of ribbon, and a mini Libby and Connor on top—or not, depending if you’re into that kind of thing. Even some fairy lights strategically placed to make it glow.’
He glanced at his sister, knowing that everything Andie was saying would appeal to her. As he’d guessed, Libby had a dreamy look on her face as she imagined the possibilities. He shrugged, sucking the last of the chocolate icing off his fork. He had to give it to Andie—she was good at convincing his sister into things. Such as fancy cakes and expensive dresses. He was sure she’d be good at convincing anyone into anything. Especially in some naughty lingerie.
He swallowed, lifting his glass to his lips and washing the remnants of the cake down with his bourbon. ‘You know, Connor likes cupcakes,’ he pointed out. Libby shifted her dreamy look towards him as she considered the idea. Andie stared daggers at him.
‘Cupcakes aren’t for weddings,’ Andie said, sounding as though she was speaking through gritted teeth.
He turned towards her slowly, his eyebrow lifted. ‘Says who?’ Her lips pressed into a thin line and her eyes narrowed. He focused back on his sister. ‘I once went to a wedding where they had a smaller cake on top of a tiered tower, and cupcakes on the tiers beneath it. Everyone likes cupcakes. And that way, you can have the cake how Andie described it, and have half of the cupcakes vanilla, half mud. People can choose.’
Libby tilted her head to the side, nodding slowly. ‘You know, that might just be the best idea you’ve come up with yet,’ she said.
‘Cupcakes are not—’ Andie started.
He turned to her, cutting her short. ‘Tell me that you can’t imagine how nice it would look, or that you wouldn’t want a cupcake if you saw one at a wedding.’
She bit into her lip. Again. He wondered how those poor lips could put up with so much abuse.
‘Oh, that’s a great idea,’ Libby said, shifting in her seat to rest her elbows on the table. For some reason, he didn’t think she was talking about the cupcakes anymore. ‘Andie, you must come to the wedding.’
His gaze lingered on Andie long enough to see her eyes widen. Then, as Libby’s words replayed through his mind, he snapped his head towards his sister. ‘I don’t—’ Andie started. ‘I don’t know.’
‘You have to,’ Libby said excitedly.
‘She doesn’t have to,’ he offered, glancing quickly back at Andie before focusing his attention on his sister. It was enough to see that Andie was surprised by his input. And something else …
‘No, see, she does,’ Libby continued. ‘She’s making my dress, so it’s only fitting that she’s there to see it—and help me into it. God, you don’t think those girls could do it themselves, do you?’
‘I’d teach them,’ Andie said. ‘You’d be perfectly fine—’
‘I want you there, Andie.’
‘And I didn’t make the dress,’ Andie continued, acting as though she hadn’t heard Libby speak. ‘I’m only adjusting it. Barely any input in it, really. In fact, Harley probably did more than me.’
‘You’ve as good as made it,’ Libby said, reaching a hand out to rest it on Andie’s arm. She glanced down at Libby’s hand, and Tay felt himself sit up straighter. ‘Besides, you can’t say no to the bride.’
Andie seemed to grimace. He swallowed, feeling on edge. ‘You can’t make her come, Lib,’ he said. ‘If she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t have to.’
Libby frowned at him, then began to glance between him and Andie. Thoughtfully. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to go,’ Andie said. ‘I just—’
‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ Libby said, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. ‘Something’s going on between you two, isn’t it?’
‘No.’
He caught Andie glancing at him as they both spoke at the same time. No? Like hell it wasn’t. So why was that his immediate response? And hers? He just knew that he couldn’t have Andie at that wedding. He hadn’t planned on them spending much time together, and if she was going to the wedding, that would ensure that he would be spending a lot more time with her. Libby would make sure of it. She’d obviously started relying on Andie’s advice and company more than that of her bridesmaids.
‘I don’t believe it,’ Libby said, slapping him on the arm. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because you’re weaving a fantasy out of nothing, Lib.’
‘Oh, pooh. I had a feeling you were seeing someone, but I didn’t …’ She drifted off, then whacked his arm again. ‘You should have told me.’
‘There’s nothing to tell.’ He hazarded a glance towards Andie and couldn’t help but shoot her an apologetic look. For his sister jumping to conclusions, that was. Not because she actually looked kind of … hurt … over his proclamation.
‘Then, there’s no reason why Andie shouldn’t come to the wedding.’
‘Unless you don’t want me there,’ Andie said, lifting a challenging eyebrow at him. It seemed she was already over the hurt. Unless he’d simply imagined it all.
‘It’s not up to me.’
‘Exactly,’ Libby said, focusing on Andie. ‘It’s my choice. And I want you there. And I’m not going to take no for an answer.’
Andie bit into her lip again—harder, this time. His heart pounded harder, faster. Why should he feel nervous about Andie being at the wedding? Maybe by then things wouldn’t be so awkward between them. And she was by far better company than Libby’s other friends.
‘I guess I won’t say no then,’ she said.
Libby shrieked her response, but he couldn’t make out the words. His head was buzzing. A feeling he wasn’t used to. He’d never been one to sit on the fence. Either he wanted it, or he didn’t. But right now, he couldn’t tell if he thought that Andie being at the wedding was a good thing or not. He swallowed the last of his drink. Seeing Andie in a pretty dress was sure to make him want her more. He felt a slow rumble at the base of his throat at the thought of what she might wear under it. Then again, she was already too close to Libby for him to have any kind of romantic involvement with her.
He had rules.
And he couldn’t risk things going south with her and having it end badly. It would only hurt Libby.
‘But he’s right,’ Andie said, rising to her feet. ‘Nothing is happening between me and … your brother. He broke my car, and he’s helping me look for a new one tomorrow. But nothing else is going on.’ She directed the last sentence towards him, her expression stern, her words like ice. ‘Now, I need to go home and soak my feet from walking three-and-a-half bloody kilometres in heels. Libby,’ she said, nodding at his sister. Then she focused back on him, straightening. ‘Mr Ballin.’
Then she turned on her heels and stalked off towards the reception desk. He pressed his tongue to his cheek, staring into his empty glass. Okay, so she was hurt. And she was going to make him pay for it. He took a long slow breath and let it out just as slowly. Why the hell had he convinced the wench to let him take her car shopping? And it wasn’t like he could bail on her, either.
‘Should we drive her home?’ Libby said, cautiously.
‘I don’t think she wants to be in the same car as me, Lib.’
‘Well … you’re an ass,’ she said, whacking his arm again. ‘Are you sure nothing is happening?’
‘Nothing is happening.’ Not now. It couldn’t. She’d crossed over into his sister’s friend territory.
‘You broke her car?’
He shrugged slowly. ‘She seems to think so.’
Libby stabbed a fork into the slice of carrot cake that had been forgotten and popped it in her mouth. ‘You probably did.’
He pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at the table. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he glanced up towards the reception desk. She was watching him. He held her gaze for a brief moment, then, as though she’d only just realised he’d caught her watching him, she stalked outside.
He nodded slowly. He had rules for a reason, and they were not meant to be broken. Rules to stop hearts from breaking and friendships from shattering. Lives from falling apart. But as he stared at the empty space where she’d been standing moments before, a weight settled heavily in his stomach, and he feared he’d already broken more than her blasted car.
And no doubt would break more.
Chapter 16
Andie wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel and squeezed her eyes shut. Yes, she could imagine herself in this car, easily reaching the speed limit down the country roads. Music playing, windows down. Breathing in the fresh country air. Going for proper drives instead of just from one place to another on the shortest possible route. She could be a new person. It would certainly be a confidence boost.
She opened her eyes and dropped her hands into her lap, letting out a sigh as the reality of her financial situation snatched the dream away. There was no way in the foreseeable future that she could afford this car. Even with whatever deal Taylor Ballin managed to get for her.
‘You like it?’
She jumped at Taylor’s voice and glanced up at him. He had one hand resting on top of the car, and was bending slightly forward to look inside.
‘It suits you,’ he continued.
She sighed again, staring out the windshield at the other cars parked in the car yard. ‘It’s okay,’ she mumbled. ‘Not really what I’m looking for, though.’
Lies. All lies. She wanted that car, and there was no denying it. She just couldn’t afford it. Not now. Probably not ever. She waved him aside and swung her legs out, taking one more glance inside. No, she shouldn’t even dream about it. She’d learned the hard way that dreams don’t really come true. She needed something reliable. And cheap. She frowned. Did such a thing exist? She slid out of the car and looked up at Taylor. Her frown deepened when she noticed he had one eyebrow lifted.
‘Shame,’ he said, patting the top of the car. ‘It’s a good car. And I managed to convince him to give you a good price.’
Part of her wanted to know how much that would be. The rest of her knew it would be better if she didn’t know how far out of her budget it was. ‘We’ll have to keep looking.’
‘You like this car, though,’ he said, squinting at her. ‘I could tell by how you looked when you were in it.’
She sighed, shrugging indifferently. ‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘But I need something reasonably priced.’
‘It is reasonably priced.’
‘For you, maybe. Not for me. I need something inexpensive and reliable. Don’t they have second-hand cars here?’
‘You should know by now that second-hand cars aren’t always reliable.’
‘But they’re a lot cheaper than—’ She waved her hand towards the car. The very reliable, very nice car. That she’d probably never have. ‘—than this.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s a matter of opinion. New cars cost more, but you’ll get more years out of it than you would a second-hand car.’
She let out an exasperated noise that sounded closer to a grunt. She might have been embarrassed over it if she wasn’t already embarrassed over everything else. She folded her arms across her chest and stalked towards where he’d parked his car. His very expensive and very reliable car, no doubt. He fell into step beside her, but made no attempt to stop her.
‘You should at least think about it, Andie.’
‘All I’m thinking about right now is food.’ And how the hell she would ever eat again if she bought another car. ‘I can’t buy that car. Not today. Not—’ ever.
‘Not on an empty stomach,’ he interrupted. ‘You’re right. We should eat. Then promise me you’ll think about it.’
Oh, she’d be thinking about it. But not in the way that he wanted her to. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she agreed, waving a finger at him. ‘But that’s it. I’m not buying that car.’
‘You might feel differently once you’ve eaten.’ He opened the passenger door for her, and she stopped short, frowning at him.
‘Eaten?’
‘Yes, eaten. You wanted food, didn’t you?’
‘That’s not what I—’
‘Get in the car, Andie. We’re getting food.’
Her eyes narrowed. Sure, she’d mentioned she was thinking about food. But she wasn’t hungry now. She’d been thinking about food—survival. How could he expect her to eat when her nerves were eating her from the inside out? He nudged his head towards the
car, seemingly unfazed by the chaos happening inside her. Sighing, she slid into her seat. He closed the door.
She let out another breath, staring out the windshield of his fancy, clean, reliable car. When was the last time she’d ever had anyone close the car door for her? Let alone open it. She couldn’t remember a time in her adult life. Certainly never with Joseph. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Taylor’s gentlemanly act. She felt … small?
No …
Childlike?
No, that couldn’t be it either. And delicate just didn’t quite fit. She was sure there was a word for it, though she couldn’t quite find it while her mind was swinging every direction. He slid into his seat and turned the car on. She looked at him in hopes that it might help her work it out. It didn’t. It only made her stomach turn more. But not in a nauseating way. No. She could never be nauseated by Taylor Ballin.
‘Do you have a preference?’
‘On what?’ she managed, blinking a few times to try to gain some clarity.
Respected? Hmm … Perhaps that was it …
Yes, she felt respected. But there was something else, too.
‘On what you feel like eating,’ he said simply, eyeing her.
He probably wondered if she was even all with it. She didn’t feel like she was at this stage. For starters, she’d been acutely aware of him bumping into her at the car yard, his hand brushing against hers. The whisper of his breath as he leaned close to show her certain fancy components of the cars. His manly, irresistible scent as he’d leaned across to show her what he was talking about.
She was feeling things for Taylor Ballin that she definitely should not be feeling. Things she’d never felt with Joseph. Was it something that had been missing with Joseph? Or was it simply pure temptation, waiting to pull her into more misery?
‘Andie?’ he prompted.
‘Hmm?’ she hummed, glancing up at him. When had her eyes dropped to the strong arm stretched out beside him? His broad shoulder that stretched the material of his shirt … She cleared her throat. ‘Oh, no. You choose.’
His eyebrow lifted, and she caught a hint of mischief in his eyes. ‘As you were,’ he teased, lurching the car forward.