The Right Mr. Wrong

by Natalie Anderson

  How many more times did he have to say no?

  He wasn’t a part of the Michael family, had never been welcomed. And at the age of thirty-two he wasn’t going to start pretending now.

  ‘Of course we want you there,’ Reese said. ‘You’re my brother—’

  ‘Half brother,’ he said bluntly, knowing he sounded callous and trying to care. ‘With emphasis on the half.’

  Amber briefly touched the back of his hand and flashed him a disapproving look, and he chose to ignore the warning and the stimulating warmth of her touch, the fleeting feel of soft fingers. Reese eyed him warily. As if, after knowing him forever, she was still trying to figure him out.

  Yeah, well...good luck with that one. He was still working on that himself.

  ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘I’m happy that you’re happy that you and that fiancé of yours are finally tying the knot.’ He did his best not to scoff out loud. ‘Not that I believe in the whole marital thing. But you know, to each his—or her—own delusion.’

  ‘Parker,’ Reese said gently, and he hated the worried look in her eyes. ‘Love isn’t a delusion.’

  ‘Oh, yeah?’ Parker screwed up his face, hoping he looked more doubtful than like the caustic bastard that Jessica had called him before breaking it off. After four months, a real record for him, it was almost a relief to have her gone. ‘If I remember right—’ he studied his sister ‘—you’ve pledged ‘till death do you part’ before.’

  Amber’s fingers returned to his wrist, gripping him hard. The contact briefly short-circuited his brain, bringing to mind better reasons she could be holding on to him so tight.

  Not your type, Robinson. Not your type.

  He discreetly pulled his wrist from Amber’s clasp. ‘Mason was your ex’s name, wasn’t it?’ Parker said, lifting a brow at his sister.

  Pink staining her cheeks at the mention of her first husband, Reese ignored his comment. ‘Being in the wedding doesn’t mean you’re endorsing the institution.’

  He plowed a hand through his hair, not caring if it stuck out in all directions. ‘Reese—’

  ‘Please,’ she said, her face the picture of sincerity. ‘You’re family.’

  Every muscle in his gut tensed with the hit. As far as he was concerned, his family died the day his father had passed away.

  And the void that had started with his mother’s you were a mistake had grown through the years, only to expand to unbelievable depths the day his dad had died. Since then he’d felt numb, as if nothing touched him. Detached. A black hole that threatened to consume everything.

  Amber shifted slightly on her feet, and his eyes went of their own volition to land, again, on the pretty tagalong from his youth. She pressed closer until their shoulders brushed, a distracting touch. But she was giving him an emphatic stare that screamed Don’t you dare break her heart.

  Because Reese didn’t deserve it, not really.

  It had taken him years as an adult to realize that his sister wasn’t responsible for the way their mother had treated him. That Reese’s precious-princess status in the Michael household was her parents’ doing, and not his sister’s. She’d been a clueless, pampered kid adored by her mom and dad. And wasn’t that the way life was supposed to work?

  But Parker Robinson wasn’t a fake.

  He puffed out a breath. At this point, he was just gonna have to let her be disappointed when he didn’t show up for the Big Day.

  ‘I told you,’ Parker told his sister. ‘Dylan needs to pick someone else for his fifth groomsman.’

  * * *

  Parker headed for the elevators, and Amber spied the crestfallen look on Reese’s face.

  ‘He’s never going to say yes,’ Reese said.

  Amber hated seeing her so down. Helping her childhood friend plan her dream day—complete with a reunion with her three college roommates as bridesmaids—was vital. Because she’d watched Reese work hard at her marriage to Mason, had seen how devastated she was when it failed. It had been painful to watch her friend suffer. Reese deserved her happily ever after with Dylan.

  ‘Parker will say yes,’ Amber said. ‘Because deep down he knows you care about him.’

  ‘You care about him, too,’ Reese said with a knowing look in her eye.

  Her stomach lurched. ‘That was a long time ago.’

  ‘And you’re both grown-ups now,’ her friend said, tone riddled with subtext.

  Shooting Reese a look, Amber said, ‘Anyone who chooses to get involved with Parker is a glutton for punishment.’ She cast an eye at the man as he waited for the elevator. ‘And I don’t chase men.’

  ‘No,’ Reese said with a sigh. ‘You just sit back and let life pass you by.’

  ‘Hey,’ Amber protested. ‘Romance will happen when it’s good and ready.’

  Her mom had always said loving her father had been easy. Reese and Dylan’s relationship always looked effortless, too. They were the perfect couple. Amber’s other friends chased love as if it were something to be hunted down and captured, torturing themselves in the process. Amber knew when she met the right man, love would happen naturally.

  Until then, she’d help others plan their perfect day.

  Reese let out a hunh. ‘Maybe you should be more proactive in getting what you want.’

  ‘Listen,’ Amber said, changing the subject. ‘I’ll talk to Parker about the wedding.’ Amber gave her friend a hug. ‘You go find Dylan and enjoy the rest of the party, okay?’

  Heart pounding, Amber followed in Parker’s path. But who was she, really, to try to convince Parker Robinson of anything?

  The elevator doors were beginning to shut, and Amber picked up her pace and slid inside just before they closed.

  Tension bounced off the walls, making the space feel especially small.

  Parker sent her an overly tolerant look. ‘Did Reese send you to try to change my mind?’

  ‘No,’ Amber said truthfully. She knew she needed to ease her way into this conversation. Years of resentment weren’t going to be undone with a one-minute elevator ride. ‘I was hoping you could give me a lift home.’

  He straightened up and stared at her.

  ‘Are you coming on to me?’ he said. There was no seductive tone. He actually sounded amused by the thought.

  Amber sent him a disgusted look she didn’t feel. And why did he find the idea funny? ‘No,’ she said. ‘Will you give me a ride, anyway?’

  ‘I’ll give you a ride because you’re not coming on to me,’ he said. Before she had time to process the unsatisfying words, Parker pushed the button and went on.

  ‘Where do you live?’ he asked.

  ‘In a loft above my shop,’ she said. ‘Down under the Manhattan Bridge overpass.’

  An emotion she couldn’t quite place swept up his face. ‘I would have thought Reese wouldn’t be caught dead in a shop anywhere other than on Fifth Avenue itself.’

  Affection flared across her heart. Reese’s wedding to Dylan Brookes was one of the social events of the year. The Michaels and the Brookeses were two of the most prominent families in the city. Handling the account was going to put her shop on the map, and she would forever be grateful for her friend’s business and her trust.

  ‘Reese has changed,’ Amber said as they exited the elevator. She knew that better than anybody. ‘I know she was a little oblivious as a teen...’

  Parker chuckled at the understatement, though there was no malice in the sound.

  They entered the lobby and Parker held the door open for her, and Amber passed through onto the busy, nighttime sidewalk. Traffic whooshed by, the smell of rain heavy in the air.

  ‘Honestly, I don’t care how much she’s changed.’ And as he gave his ticket to the valet, he shot Amber a sharp look. ‘I’m not convinced this thing with her and Dylan is even real.’

  ‘You’re just cynical about relationships in general,’ Amber said with a small scoff. ‘Everyone knows they’re perfect for each other.’

  ‘Regardless,’ Pa
rker said. ‘I’m not going to be in her wedding.’

  Heart shifting lower in her chest, Amber curled her fingers in her hand, determined to change his mind by the end of the ride home.

  No matter what it took.

  THREE

  ‘What is this?’ Amber asked when the valet pulled up with Parker’s car.

  ‘This,’ Parker said, unable to hold back his grin of affection, ‘is a 1967 Ford Mustang Fastback with a 390 cubic-inch, V-8 engine.’

  Face blank, she stared at him.

  ‘She’s fast and she’s furious and she’s as badass as me,’ he said, knowing the response it would produce. And so what if he enjoyed the roll of Amber’s eyes. He blamed the small slice of pleasure for the words that slid from his mouth next. ‘It belonged to my father.’

  A look of tenderness leaped into her eyes and his chest clenched hard, the black hole cinching tight around his heart.

  Stretching out her arm, as if to take his hand, she said, ‘I’m sorry—’

  ‘Don’t.’

  He stepped back before he knew what he was doing. He wasn’t sure where the harsh word had come from. But Parker also knew he couldn’t bear to hear whatever she was going to say next.

  And no way could he stand to have her touch him in comfort.

  They settled into his car, and he was grateful for the distraction of merging with traffic. The misting rain turned into a steady drizzle and the swish swish swish of the windshield wipers filled the vehicle. Riding in silence, the awkward commute felt longer than it should have, and Parker was almost relieved when they drew closer to her turnoff and he had to ask her for directions.

  Once he parked on her street and turned off the car, the rain began to come down a little harder. He slid off his jacket and turned to toss it onto the backseat, noticing her eyes on his chest. And the sharp stab of lust to his groin was unexpected.

  ‘I’ll walk you to the door,’ he said, gearing up for a goodbye.

  ‘No need,’ she said. ‘There’s no sense in two of us getting wet.’ She twisted in her seat to look at him. ‘Parker, about the wedding—’

  Stomach knotted with tension, he bolted out of the car and rounded to the passenger side, opening Amber’s door. ‘We’re a block away,’ he said. ‘We should get moving.’

  He closed the car door behind her with a forceful thunk, because the former stalker had lied to him. She was going to try to convince him to change his mind. And the last thing he needed were two females hounding him about an impossible task.

  Amber frowned. ‘It won’t take long to get there, so we can—’

  ‘We better hurry before the rain gets worse,’ he said, taking her arm.

  Leading her up the sidewalk, he glanced at the redhead from the corner of his eye. She had a nice figure. Slim, but curvy enough in the right spots to capture a man’s attention.

  ‘Parker,’ Amber said, sounding impatient. ‘We need to—’

  The skies opened up and began to release a load of rain as if it had grown too heavy to hold. Their mad dash to the awning wasn’t fast enough, and, when they arrived, water dripped down their faces.

  Parker turned to Amber, trying hard not to appreciate how good she looked wet.

  ‘The last time I saw you that soaked you were trying to drown,’ Parker said.

  Sending him an overly tolerant look, she opened her mouth to speak again. But Parker had other ideas.

  ‘There’s something I gotta ask.’ He narrowed his eyes at Amber with a curiosity that was genuine. ‘Were you just pretending to be dead so I would do mouth to mouth?’

  The shocked and offended expression on her face was instantaneous, and her mouth dropped open wider. ‘I—’

  She blinked and tried again. ‘You—’

  ‘Hey,’ he said by way of protest. So far his choice of conversation had left her practically mute, which was exactly what he’d planned. ‘You followed me around. I mean, come on, I couldn’t seem to get rid of you.’ A smile split his lips at the memory. ‘I even caught you watching me make out with Susie Frances.’

  Pink coloring bled up her cheeks. Parker would never forget the gaping look on Amber’s face when he spied her peeking at them from behind the lifeguard house. He knew his gruff ‘You got some kind of voyeur kink going on there, Ace?’ had been totally out of line. But the expression on her face had been priceless. Poor kid didn’t have a clue what he’d been talking about, but he remembered the look in her eyes.

  From an awkward twelve-year-old it had been embarrassingly uncomfortable.

  From a beautiful twenty-seven-year-old it made him embarrassingly uncomfortable in his jeans. Case in point, the way her eyes had skimmed over his chest in the car.

  ‘I did not mean to spy on you while you were with Susie,’ she said.

  ‘Feel free to keep lying to yourself,’ Parker went on. ‘So...did you?’

  She blinked. ‘Did I what?’

  ‘Pretend to be dead.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said with a huff of sarcasm that told him it wasn’t true. ‘And vomiting up seawater was part of my evil seduction plan, too.’

  ‘Come on, you know you wanted to kiss me back then. It was hellaciously embarrassing, let me tell you,’ Parker said.

  The color climbed higher up her cheeks. ‘Trust me, I didn’t plan out almost drowning just so I could get your lips on mine,’ she said. ‘Which is a good thing, too, because it would have been a terrible disappointment.’

  ‘You keep saying that.’

  ‘Because it’s true.’

  ‘Awesome,’ he said with a dry twist of his lips. ‘My skills are being judged on a one-time incident of giving you mouth to mouth—’ he paused, as if for emphasis ‘—while you were trying to, you know, die.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she said with a delicate lift of her shoulder. ‘It’s my only basis for comparison.’

  In a fit of madness he wanted to wipe that look off her face. ‘Well,’ he said as he stepped closer, hating how rough the word came out. ‘There’s an easy fix for that.’

  Hands on her arms, he was vaguely aware goose bumps prickled her skin, and he wondered if it was from the chilling rain...or his touch.

  No matter. He intended to be quick in his efforts, to dazzle her with his finesse. Get in; get out. Hopefully blow her mind. Or at least replace a stupid ten-second mouth-to-mouth moment with a kiss that was worthy of being judged. His pride was at stake here.

  But when his lips touched hers, she let out a whimper that slayed him and canted her head up, opening her mouth beneath his as if she’d been waiting all night to do exactly that. And if he took advantage of the offer to sweep his tongue against hers, and instantly followed through on the crushing need to repeat the act, well...he was as weak as the next guy when faced with a beautiful woman in his arms.

  He might have arched against her.

  His breath might have caught in his throat at the glorious feel of her soft body.

  Before he knew what he was doing he was shifting closer, his hands in the silk of her hair, and angling her head to increase the contact. To maintain the seductive slide of tongue against tongue. She tasted like maple and smelled like the syrup that matched the color her eyes.

  For a heart-stopping moment he pushed aside the fact that she was too sweet. That she was the sort of woman that would expect more than he could give.

  That she was the one person who knew the truth about how weak he’d once been.

  The mood-killing thought hit like a jolt of lightning, and he tried to pull away. But her soft hand on his neck didn’t allow him to escape too far, now only an inch of space separating them. Her breath was sweet, warm and moist on his lips.

  Heart thumping harder than it should have from a simple kiss, he stared into the golden-brown eyes.

  And then she feathered her mouth across his in a way that was so soft, so barely there, that Parker didn’t know what to do with the moment. As lips ghosted across his, he frowned, frozen, adjusting to the foreign feel of something no
t focused on the act of sexual gratification. The barely-there touch of skin on skin that managed to gut him so thoroughly. Affect him more than any other more carnal action could have.

  And an odd, soft feeling was seeping into his chest. A feeling he didn’t quite know what to do with.

  But he did not do sweet. Not in his relationships, not in his work, not in his life. Yet, for some unknown reason, he couldn’t pull away. He didn’t respond, but he couldn’t move, either. Like a stupid deer in the freight-train-lights moment.

  When she finally leaned back, her throat was flushed the same shade as her face, her fingers stroking against the hair at the base of his neck. Sending goose bumps, freakin’ goose bumps, down his back.

  What the hell?

  Rain pounded the pavement around them, gushing off the awning and cocooning them in a rushing wall of water.

  ‘So,’ Parker finally said. He cleared his throat. ‘I’d say that puts the kiss issue to rest.’

  But, man, did it ever create a whole new set of problems.

  Because he was staring at her face, still wet from the rain. A drop dripped from her hair and slid down her cheek, slipping past the corner of her mouth, and Parker was struck by the gut-wrenching urge to lick the trail. The slender body in the dress that now clung to curves he hadn’t truly appreciated without the addition of water. And, as if the want wasn’t bad enough, the strand of hair that clung to her temple added an air of vulnerability that was far worse than the feeling of lust.

  From this proximity he could reach out and brush the lock from her forehead. Not that he planned on following through, or that he longed to. At all.

  Damn it.

  ‘You seem awfully confident,’ she said softly.

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Shouldn’t I have a say?’

  Lifting a brow, he waited.

  ‘It definitely puts the issue to rest,’ she said.

  And the smile on her face left him wanting to kiss her again, and he fisted his hand.

  He worked in a world of bitterness and darkness and death and she dealt with joy and lightness and happily ever after. He couldn’t bear the thought of being the one to snuff out those good feelings. And he would, too. Every woman he’d left behind him had been just a little more jaded, a little less innocent. Had believed a little less.