A shiver worked its way down her spine. The energy oozing from Evan reeked of intimidation, of a power tightly leashed. He wet his lips as his gaze roamed up her body. The sight of his tongue did alarming things to her body. Made her skin tingle and her nipples perk.
Whoa. What the hell am I doing?
As if snapping out of a trance, Presley reined in her errant libido.
She did not need this today. Not the day after Brad—her boyfriend of five months—had dumped her. At her favorite restaurant, no less. The jerk.
Her emotions were all over the place, which was the only explanation for why she reacted to Evan’s perusal. What woman wouldn’t enjoy the appreciation of a gorgeous man?
One who was in love with her boyfriend…?
She would examine that thought another time. For now, Presley brushed invisible lint from the bright red fabric of her dress with an internal huff. She’d chosen the dress because it was her favorite. Because it made her feel confident and pretty. Not so it could be mentally removed by a guy who had a history of deserting her.
Presley took a steadying breath and willed her pulse to slow. She wasn’t sixteen. Evan wasn’t eighteen. They were adults now. He’d moved on, and so had she. She was in no mood to relive the past.
Evan’s gaze finally met hers. Presley knew the moment he recognized her. It was comical, really, how fast his interest morphed into a less desirable expression. Shock mixed with a dash of surprise, then his full lips thinned into a scowl, as if he’d just decided the years between them hadn’t been nearly long enough.
His reaction set her defenses on edge. He had a lot of nerve acting as if he had any right to be upset. She hadn’t done anything to him. If there was any anger to be had, it belonged to her.
“Hey, Presley,” John called, waving her over.
Presley took a deep breath, fighting to calm the nerves eating away at her stomach.
The past is dead and gone. I’m here for John and Chloe.
Pasting a smile on her face, Presley closed the distance between them.
“John,” she greeted warmly. Presley reached for him as she approached the table. John took her hands in his, giving them a light squeeze.
“You’re a lifesaver. Thank you for coming.” John released her hands and motioned toward his companion. “This is my friend and best man, Evan—”
“Lancaster,” she finished. “Yes, I know.” She kept her expression passive. “Hello, Evan.”
John’s best man. What were the odds?
“You know each other?” John appeared dumbfounded.
“Not really.” The desire to return a blow made the words tumble from her mouth. “We were…acquaintances, once. A long time ago, right Evan?”
Evan’s frown was fierce, but he remained silent.
Apparently, she’d hit her mark. She should be happy, but cheapening what he’d meant to her didn’t feel great, regardless of how they’d ended.
“Dude.” John shoved at Evan’s shoulder.
Evan’s sigh was loud enough for the entire coffee shop to hear as he lumbered to his feet to join them.
If it weren’t for her budding friendship with Chloe, Presley would’ve turned around and left. It was clear Evan wished she would go. Well, Evan Lancaster could get over himself. Presley was the best person to help plan this wedding. She knew what Chloe wanted. They’d discussed the details at length while picking out the flowers at Presley’s nursery. John needed her help, and Presley wouldn’t let Evan ruin Chloe and John’s big day.
“Don’t mind him, Presley,” John said. “He was raised in a barn.”
How could she forget? She’d had her first kiss in that barn.
“You can take the cowboy off the ranch…” Presley let her words trail off. She had no idea if Evan worked the ranch, or if his family was still in the horse business.
“Oh, Evan isn’t a cow— Ow!”
Evan slapped a beefy hand on John’s shoulder, cutting off whatever John had been about to say as Evan pulled him away from her.
“What the hell, man?”
Evan ignored his friend.
“Presley.” Evan didn’t attempt to hug her. “Been a long time.”
She shivered as the unexpected rumble of his voice cascaded down her spine, resonating through her middle. Presley shifted on her heels. A knowing arrogance flashed in those intense jade eyes as he followed her movement. The muscles in his arms flexed, as if he were fighting the urge to move.
“Yes, it has.” She swallowed hard. “You, um, you look well.” An understatement, to be sure.
“Yeah.” Evan hesitated, cleared his throat, then added, “You, too.”
“For the love of all things holy.” John rolled his eyes. “Would you like a drink, Presley?”
“I’ll get it.” Evan took a step back, looking relieved to have an excuse to move away from her.
“No.” John held up a hand, his tone firm. “I’ll get it.” He stared hard at Evan. “There’s clearly an issue here I’m unaware of. I’m going to give you two a couple of minutes alone to talk.”
Evan’s scowl deepened the lines around his mouth. “I don’t have an issue. If Presley—”
“Don’t look at me.” She held up her hands. Who did he think he was, trying to speak for her?
“Right,” John said slowly, his gaze drifting back and forth between them. Then, he cursed. “You two, sit. Talk. Figure out what this…” His lips pinched like he’d just sucked on a lemon as he waved a hand between them, “…is.”
Presley and Evan spoke at the same time.
“There’s nothing to—”
“I’m fine—”
John cut them off. “Look. We’re going to have to see each other a lot in the coming weeks. Putting together Chloe’s dream wedding, without her knowledge, will be stressful enough. I don’t need the added awkwardness and tension that’s pouring off the two of you. You have the time it takes me to get Presley a drink to say what you need to say to each other, so we can move on.”
Presley took that as her cue. She reached into her bag for her wallet. “I’d love a honey latte, please.”
John waved off her attempt to pay. “I’ve got it. It’s the least I can do for what you’ve agreed to do for me. For us.”
“I’m happy to help.” What she wasn’t happy to do was open old wounds. It had taken her a long time to get over Evan’s abrupt disappearance from her life. She wasn’t keen to relive the pain.
John offered her a smile that slipped somewhat when his gaze landed on Evan. “Make. Nice.”
Presley heard the words John hissed at Evan, though they clearly weren’t meant for her ears.
“I’ll have another dark roast,” Evan called to John as he walked away.
Over his shoulder, John flipped Evan off.
And then they were alone.
Acquaintances.
Evan bristled at the word Presley had used to describe their past relationship. It was bullshit, and they both knew it. Yeah, they’d been young and naive, but he’d cared about her. A lot.
“Have a seat.” Evan pulled out the chair. As he waited for Presley to plop her sexy ass down, he battled the temptation to lean in and remind her of his “acquaintance.”
That fucking dress should be illegal.
She gave him a wary look. “Thanks.”
He grunted, unsure why he was so irritated. It wasn’t like him to let a woman get under his skin, and yet, in the space of a few seconds, Presley had done just that.
He dropped into the chair next to her.
She hugged her enormous bag against her chest and spoke before he had time to collect his thoughts. “I had no idea you and John were friends.”
He hummed, wondering how she was going to play this. They hadn’t exactly parted on friendly terms. Or any terms, come to think of it. One day she was his, and then…she wasn’t.
For now, though, he decided to follow her lead. “Since grade school.”
“That must mean you’v
e known Chloe for a long time, too. She mentioned she and John were high school sweethearts.”
“They met at freshman orientation. I had to meet with the football coach, so I wasn’t there. John introduced me to her a few days later.” Evan grinned, remembering how crazy John had been about Chloe from the start. “He was already a goner.”
Presley’s expression turned wistful. “The idea of finding a true love at such a young age is incredibly romantic, don’t you think?”
Was that a dig about what they could’ve had?
“Presley.” Evan wasn’t prepared to have this conversation.
“I wasn’t referring to anything other than the fact that I think John and Chloe’s relationship is special.” Presley looked over her shoulder. “We don’t have a lot of time, so can we not, please?”
“Not, what?”
“Can we not rehash the past? It was a long time ago. We were kids. You’re obviously not thrilled to see me. I can deal with that. Let’s just agree to focus our energies on giving John and Chloe their perfect day. After the wedding, we can part ways without any hard feelings. We’ll have done a nice thing for our mutual friends, and that’s what matters.”
Our mutual friends.
Presley had grown up across town from him. They’d gone to different high schools, had run in different circles. He’d been selfish with what little time they’d had together between work and school, so it had always just been the two of them when they’d gone out.
What kind of cosmic bullshit was at work that, twelve years later, she’d finally met his friends?
Evan considered Presley’s words. The last time he’d talked to her his life fell apart. Seemed reasonable to agree to leave that shit where it belonged—in the past. Did he have regrets? Sure. He didn’t know anyone who didn’t. Evan was a firm believer in living life to the fullest, taking chances, and learning from his mistakes.
Everything he’d done or experienced, every decision he’d made had led him to where he was today. Wedding planning notwithstanding, he had a good life.
Faced with Presley’s pleading gaze, Evan’s gut tightened. He never could deny her. “I can do that. If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
Her words dissolved the tension between his shoulder blades, and with it, the irritation he’d been feeling. Evan scratched his stubbled jaw. “You’re wrong, you know.”
“It’s not what I want?”
“About me not being thrilled to see you. I’m not un-thrilled.” She laughed softly at his made-up word. “I was surprised.” And, for a minute, the rush of memories had gotten the better of him. He was better now.
“Me, too.” She shifted the bag on her lap. Her gaze darted from the table to the floor, first to one side of her chair, and then the other.
Evan had enough experience with women to know what she was doing. He held out a hand. “Give it to me.”
“What?”
“The bag. Hand it over.”
She hugged it to her chest. “But what if I need—”
“Presley. I’m not going to toss it across the room, for chrissakes. Give me the bag so you can relax and enjoy your coffee.”
She relented, and he dropped the heavy thing into the chair next to him.
Evan glanced toward the counter, gauging how much time they had before John returned to the table. Not much, from the look of it.
He refocused on Presley. “Are you ready for this?” Because he wasn’t. He still thought a surprise wedding was a horrible idea.
“I’ve never planned a wedding before, but it can’t be that hard.”
“You aren’t married?” He hadn’t bothered to check out her ring finger because he’d been too busy checking out the rest of her. He did so now and found it unadorned, with no indication she’d ever worn a ring there.
“No. Are you?” She glanced toward his hand, which he held up for her to inspect.
“Nope. Do you honestly believe this wedding is a good idea?”
Two little lines appeared between Presley’s eyebrows. It wasn’t a good look on her. Evan had a sudden urge to smooth the area with his thumb. Instead, he relaxed back and dropped his palms to rest against his thighs.
“You don’t want John and Chloe to get married?”
“Of course, I do. They’re great together. It’s the surprise I don’t like.”
“She knows they’re getting married, so it’s not much of a surprise. Besides, I think it’s romantic. Isn’t that what weddings are all about?”
What was it with women and weddings and romance? Weddings were ceremonious. Not life. Any guy could stand in front of a crowd for five minutes and pledge his love to a woman. What mattered was what the guy did when people weren’t watching. He knew plenty of assholes who’d taken vows only to break them later.
Instead of sharing his perspective, he called Presley on her bullshit. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t care if you didn’t have a say in your own wedding? That you’d be happy to let someone else make all the decisions for you?”
Presley frowned, as if considering his words. “I’ll admit this is an unconventional situation,” she said slowly. “That doesn’t make it any less significant. We are planning one of the most important days of their lives.”
She hadn’t answered his question, but he didn’t push. How she felt about her own wedding day wasn’t his business.
“Exactly. Their lives. Chloe is going to want a say in what happens. Guys don’t care about the details.” John was full of crap. “It’s women who live for that stuff.”
Presley didn’t argue with him. “Not every woman, but I would think a good portion of the female population does grow up thinking about the kind of wedding they’ll have. Fairy tales are designed to give girls unrealistic expectations. In this case, though, Chloe will have a say. She’s already made most of the decisions. We just have to find new vendors to deliver, since they lost all of their current contracts. Except me, of course. I’ll still be providing the flowers.”
Evan was curious about Presley’s business. He remembered her love for growing things. She’d always been planting seeds in small pots at the feed store. He wanted to know more. He was just about to ask her about the nursery when John slid into the chair across from him.
“Well, no one is bleeding or naked, so I’ll take that as a good sign.” John winked at Presley. “From what I saw, it could’ve gone either way.”
Presley’s cheeks darkened, and her gaze dropped to the latte John slid in front of her. Her hand shook slightly as she reached for the cup, irritating Evan all over again.
Without thinking, Evan reached out, wrapped her fingers in his hand, and gave them a squeeze. “That’s enough, John,” Evan warned.
There was no need to embarrass her. He adjusted his hold and soothed his thumb along the back of her hand. Her skin bore the signs of hard work—rough in places, soft in others—but she felt warm, vibrant against his palm. He didn’t want to let go. As it turned out, she took the decision from him. With a look of thanks—and maybe a little regret—she pulled her hand away.
“We should get started,” she informed them, suddenly all business. “The first thing we need to decide is where to have the wedding. It’s going to be impossible to book any of the more popular venues on such short notice.”
John rubbed his chin. “Chloe mentioned early on that she’d love to get married outdoors. She didn’t want to have to deal with coming up with a bad weather Plan B, so we vetoed the idea.”
Evan pointed out the obvious. “The weather could still be an issue four weeks from now.”
“Not as risky as planning a year out,” John argued.
“But, it’s still a risk. I know ‘third times the charm’ and all that, but let’s not push our luck.”
Evan glanced at Presley, hoping to get her support. She was already looking at him, decidedly uncomfortable.
“What? You don’t agree?”
“I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I need my ba
g.”
Evan couldn’t hide his smirk as he passed it over. She pulled out a spiral-bound planner smudged with dirt and God knew what else. Then, she dropped the bag to the floor as if she didn’t want to inconvenience him again with its care.
Something about the way she ran her hand over the planner played havoc with his insides. Her chest rose and fell, as if connecting with the dirt and grime on the cover restored some kind of balance within her.
For a brief second, Evan caught a glimpse of the girl he remembered. The girl who’d worn jeans and boots and hadn’t minded mucking out horse stalls alongside him. As much as he loved the dress and the heels, Evan decided he preferred her a little dirty.
Presley turned to John. “Do you have a place in mind?”
While she was distracted, Evan reached down, picked up her bag, and carefully placed it back in the chair beside him.
“Actually, I do. Hear me out, okay?”
John’s words gained Evan’s immediate attention. “Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?”
“What if we have it in the round barn on the ranch?”
“Is that the one with the large rolling doors on each side?” Presley perked up. “Where the grain and hay are stored?”
The one where I got my first taste of you.
It was true, but not what he should be thinking about right now. Or, ever. Presley had said it herself. They would help with the wedding and then go their separate ways. There would be no more tasting…unless it was cake. He’d eat the shit out of some wedding cake.
John’s brow’s lifted. “You know the one?”
She nodded and quickly raised her mug to her lips.
Evan would bet she wasn’t thinking about cake, either.
“Then you know we could roll open both sets of doors, which would give us the illusion of being outside while still being protected, if the weather turned sour.” John’s excitement rose. “Chloe loves horses. Hell, she’s probably spent as much time at the ranch over the years as I have. I think she’d get a kick out of being married there.”
Hot SEAL, Best Man (SEALs in Paradise) Page 2