“Okay. I’ll go.” Jane took the card, finished her soda and returned to her desk. She spent the afternoon rehearsing the speech she’d give to Jason.
By quitting time, she had worked herself up into a nervous frenzy. Even though she’d gone over it dozens of times, she rehearsed her speech aloud as she drove the short distance to the banquet hall. She was a sweaty, anxious mess by the time she pulled into the parking lot. Six o’clock on the dot.
She took a look in her vanity mirror on the back of her sun visor. A mess. That was probably for the better. Then she flipped up the visor and reached for the door handle.
Before she’d pulled on the latch, the door swung open. Jason stood outside smiling.
“You look beautiful,” he said, holding the door for her.
Intending to deliver her speech, she opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Well, nothing except for some strangled-sounding gurgle.
He chuckled. The sound of his laughter floated around her head and bubbled in her tummy, setting the butterflies in there all aflurry. “I’ll take that as a thank you.” He reached down with his free hand and captured one of hers, giving it a soft tug to urge her to her feet. “There’s been a change of plans.”
“Oh?” She didn’t like the sound of that.
“We’re going to dinner. The manager had a small emergency to contend with and can’t meet with us until seven-thirty. You don’t mind eating dinner with me, do you?”
“Well, actually...” She tried to lower herself back into the car seat but he kept pulling. It was no use. She wasn’t going to win this battle. The way she saw it she had two choices—either remain standing or have her shoulder dislocated.
“I won’t take no for an answer,” he said, reinforcing what she already knew.
“I noticed that about you.” She wriggled her fingers, trying to free her hand.
“We have some things we need to talk about. Don’t you agree?”
“True.”
“Good.” He pushed the car door closed behind her. “At least we agree on that much.”
“And that may be all we ever agree on.”
He grinned and she tried hard not to notice how cute he was when he smiled like that. She also tried extra hard to ignore the glimmer of attraction she saw in his eyes. That was tough.
Releasing her hand at last, he motioned toward the restaurant next door to the banquet hall. “Hope you like steak.”
“Love it, but—” She reached for the car door handle again.
Obviously anticipating her move, he used his bulk to block her from opening the door. He crossed his thick arms over his chest. “How did I know you’d say that? Let me guess, you like Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy too.”
Uh-oh! He was putting two and two together. “Well, it’s not my favorite...”
“Liar. I’ve figured it out, you know.”
Her face flamed. “Figured out what? My favorite ice cream flavor?”
“No, more than that,” he said, shaking his head. He took a single step toward her and feeling trapped, even though she was standing in the middle of an empty parking lot, she back-stepped away. “I figured out what you and Monica did.”
“Oh? What we did? We didn’t do... I mean, I honestly wouldn’t know...” She took a few more steps backward until something big and hard stopped her from going any further.
Unfortunately, he didn’t stop moving forward. Well, he did, but not until he was only a couple of inches from her. Heck, if she sucked in a deep breath, her boobs would probably touch his lower chest. Considering their size—even with the Wonderbra—that was saying something.
“All weekend long it was driving me nuts,” he said. “I felt like I knew you, like I’d spent time with you, not just met you on the street or spoke to you in passing. But it was impossible.”
“Probably that déjà vu thingy. I get that sometimes.” Her hands behind her back, she explored the surface of whatever vehicle she’d backed herself into.
“I couldn’t sleep. I had to figure it out,” he continued.
She pretended to listen while planning her next move. If she could shuffle up around one end of the car, she could make a quick getaway. How lame! To be even considering running away. Spineless coward! What happened to your plan to set him straight?
“And then it came to me when I was watching an old movie on HBO,” he continued.
“A movie?”
“How’d you do it? Wireless receiver?” He leaned forward, trapping her shoulders between his outstretched arms as he pressed his palms against the car’s roof.
The second he made contact with the car, a loud shriek sounded in her ear, making her leap forward.
That was not the best direction to move. Her body smashed up against his, she raised her hands to cup them over her ears. That did little to shelter her eardrums from the obnoxious bellow of the car’s alarm. Her nose pressed into his chest, and the scent of Jason and tangy cologne filled her nostrils. “Alarm!” she shouted.
Without speaking a word, he crammed one hand in his pants pocket and pulled out a keypad. He punched a button and the noise ceased.
But it was too late for her to make a safe getaway. Before she had her senses back, he wrapped both arms around her waist and held her tight against him. She felt every point where her body made contact with his. And there were many! Here and there, little blazes erupted, sending sparks of arousal through her bloodstream. She felt a trickle of perspiration run down her temple. She needed to lighten the mood. Pronto! Or she was going to melt.
“I know it was you,” he said, capturing her chin and holding it so she couldn’t look away. His gaze drilled hers. It was intense, demanding, troubled. “You coached her, told her what to say that night at my house. And at the nightclub too.”
“How would I do that? What movie are we talking about anyway?” she asked, trying like heck to look casual.
“You know which one. The chick flick about cats and dogs.” His fingertip traced the line of her jaw. The innocent touch sent more sparks flying through her system. Meltdown was now imminent if something wasn’t done immediately!
She shrugged her shoulders and tried to pull out of his embrace. With one hand she caught the index finger that had made its way to the base of her throat and pushed it away. “You’ve got me there. I’m totally lost.”
“Something about truth and cats and dogs...has that tall blonde, Uma Thurman, and the other one, Janeane somebody in it.” Seemingly undaunted, he took that naughty finger and plunked it right in the center of her chest, where it traced the little bow in the center of her bra. It seemed a few buttons of her shirt had sprung open. “You know, where the plain-looking one is too scared to talk to the guy so she lets him think the good-looking one is her.”
Almost mindless with need, thanks to his roaming hand and the heat in his gaze, Jane tried to ease the tension by cracking a joke. Humor always helped her get through tough times. And this was one of the toughest she’d ever had to endure. “I’m not following you. Hey, are you trying to say I’m the Janeane somebody? You can’t even remember her name. It’s no wonder women like me who don’t have legs up to their armpits feel like we don’t stand a chance with men.” She knocked his hand away again. “Would you stop doing that? This Janeane somebody doesn’t care to be manhandled in public.”
“Please. Quit joking around and tell me the truth. I need to know. I deserve to know,” he pleaded as his gaze fixed on her eyes. “Which woman have I fallen in love with? Monica Starke or Jane Brown?”
“That’s a no-brainer. You’re in love with Uma.”
“Damn it, Jane. Don’t you understand? I have to know.” His fingers dug into her shoulders as he gripped them tightly. His brows drew together and dipped down low over his expressive eyes, eyes that spoke of passion and confusion, wanting and fear. “I’m about to marry one of them. I can’t marry the wrong woman.”
Marry? He would marry me? I would be Mrs. Foxx? All the clever comebacks that had bee
n bouncing around in her head vaporized, disappearing like fog on a sunny morning. Speechless, she dropped her head, allowing her forehead to rest against his chest.
What had she done? She’d messed up not one, but two lives! Jason was confused—not that she could blame him. He was an innocent party in this.
Monica would be devastated.
She was quite certain that whoever had made the whole switch thing possible had not intended for things to end like this, no matter how great it seemed to be for Jane!
“Honestly, Jason. I don’t know what you mean. You love Monica. I’m certain of it.”
“At least one of us is.”
“It’s probably just pre-wedding jitters. All men have those. Now, please,” she said, pushing against his chest. “Let me go before someone sees something and word gets back to Monica. She’s my friend and your fiancée. I can’t do this to her. She’s so happy about your proposal.”
“But she’s not acting—”
“She has a strange way of showing people how she feels sometime. You should know that by now.” Jane finally extricated herself from his embrace and half-ran back to her car. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for whatever change you’ve seen the past couple of days. Take my word for it, she’s thrilled.”
“I honestly feel like—”
Finally within reach of safety, she opened the door then turned to face him. It was now or never. She had to convince him that it was Monica he loved, no matter how much it killed her.
“Just stop it,” she said in as stern a voice as she could muster. “You know how much this would hurt her, don’t you? You have to stop it now. I haven’t known you for long but I get the impression you’re not the low-down woman-chaser you’re acting like at the moment. Of course, I’ve been wrong about those kinds of things before. Just tell me you’re not a player who’s going to propose to a woman one day then seduce her best friend the next, are you? Because if you are, then Monica and I need to have a long talk.”
“No, of course I’m not. I just need to know—”
“Good. I was hoping you’d say that. Let’s get back to focusing on what we came here to do—choose a venue for your wedding.” She made sure to emphasize the last word in that sentence before continuing, “I’m willing to forget all the other stuff if you promise not to mention it again.”
“But I can’t—”
“Okay, Jason. It’s your decision. I’m leaving. Choose your banquet hall on your own. I won’t let this...whatever it is...continue another minute.” She sat, slammed the car door and started the car, ignoring Jason’s persistent rapping on the window. Not allowing herself to glance his way, she tapped the horn to warn him to move away from the car then put it into reverse, backing out of the parking spot.
As she drove through the parking lot, she peeked in the rearview mirror.
He was stooped, crouching low to the ground, holding a foot in his hands. His head was tipped down, his forehead resting on a bent knee.
I ran him over? Damn it! Why didn’t he move?
Terrific! Now, she was not only guilty of fiancé-stealing but also assault with a thousand-pound—or thereabouts—racy, red, sporty coupe.
Chapter Thirteen
Over the next several weeks, Jason did what was right—he kept his distance from Jane Brown and focused on planning his wedding and nursed his terribly bruised foot. Luckily, Jane had just bumped the outer side and hadn’t broken any bones.
Thanks to Monica’s wish for a New Year’s Eve wedding, there were plenty of details to get in order in a short period of time. While Monica took care of most of them, he was still busy with the few items she’d entrusted into his care.
Yes, being busy was a good thing. It left him little time to wonder about Jane, where she was, what she was doing. Who she was with.
He had no explanation for why he felt so close to her right from the moment they’d first met. He’d never felt that way about someone before, not even Monica. At first, he’d suspected Monica and Jane had somehow joined forces to trick him. But now, as he and Monica settled into the comfort of a stable but uninspiring relationship, he began to doubt that had happened.
One thing he didn’t doubt—it was frustrating, unnerving how thoughts of Jane came up at the most inopportune times, like during dinner dates with Monica. Fortunately, Monica didn’t seem to notice his straying attention. If she did, she was uncharacteristically quiet about it.
He struggled night and day with the fear of marrying the wrong woman, of making a mistake and forcing Monica to pay the price.
Yes, they were getting along fine. The dramatic change of almost a month ago now had mellowed into something a little more stable. Monica was still Monica. She hadn’t shaken all her weaknesses. But she’d gained a handful of new strengths. He respected her for the growth she’d shown. He admired her creative mind and go-getting attitude regarding her career. It was obvious Monica Starke would someday be a huge success.
But was admiration and respect a strong enough foundation for marriage? God, he hoped so.
He felt he must keep his uncertainties to himself, at least for a bit longer, until he was sure they weren’t just a case of pre-wedding jitters. Of course, it didn’t help that he had no one he trusted to talk to.
He bet Jane would be a good listener.
“Honey, what’s wrong? You look like you’d rather be a million miles away than celebrating our anniversary,” Monica asked, instantly reminding him of where he was and what they were celebrating.
One year. They’d had their first date almost one year ago. It seemed like both yesterday and a lifetime ago.
“Nothing, babe. I’m fine. Just tired. Jet lag,” he offered the excuse he knew he’d recently started overusing. The past few weeks he’d taken several business trips to Europe and one trip to the Orient. To his credit, the excuse was somewhat warranted. He normally traveled that much in a year’s time, not a month. He’d recently found a new outlet for his goods. However, this particular retail outlet was frequented by very selective customers who had an eye for the rare. He’d been forced to travel to find pieces unique and expensive enough to capture their interest.
He’d profited quite nicely. At least Monica’s wedding wouldn’t put him in the hole.
“You need to stop traveling so much,” she said, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. “I know this wedding is putting a lot of pressure on you. I feel a little guilty.”
“Don’t. It’s your big day. Every woman deserves to have the wedding of her dreams.”
Her smile was genuine. “You’re such a sweetheart. That’s why I’m marrying you, you know.” She pushed her still-full plate away and audibly sighed. “I’m stuffed. Can’t eat another bite.”
“I’m just a working schmuck, nothing special.” He didn’t say a word about Monica’s uneaten food. Recently, he’d learned Monica’s eating habits were not a safe topic of conversation.
“That’s a matter of opinion.”
The waiter slipped Jason the check then silently stepped away.
“Did you want anything else, babe? Dessert maybe?”
“Oh, no. I’m fine. Want to make sure I fit in my dress. Only a little over ten weeks. I can’t believe it’s coming so quickly.”
“Me neither.” He filled the leather folder with enough cash for the bill plus a nice tip and set it on the edge of the table.
“Did you make the reservations for the honeymoon?”
“All set.”
“I can’t wait. I’ve always dreamed of going to Germany. It’ll be so romantic.”
“Yeah.” He returned his money clip to his pocket and drained the remaining champagne from his glass.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight. Are you sure it’s just jet lag?”
“Yep. Are you ready to go?”
“In just a minute.” She finished off her champagne then stood and let him help her into her coat. Her diamond ring flashed brill
iantly, the muted overhead lights reflecting off the facets as she reached her arm behind her back and slid it into her coat sleeve. As they walked through the restaurant’s dim interior, he caught all the appreciative glances she collected from both male and female diners.
Going out with Monica was like going out with a local celebrity.
He had no doubt there were dozens of guys who would love to be in his shoes. But that did nothing to ease his doubts.
After dropping Monica off at her place, he shut off his cell phone and stopped at the bar down the street for one last drink before turning in. A trendy hotspot full of Metro Detroit’s up and coming. Jason liked to stop in occasionally for a beer and some wings.
Jason had no way of knowing Jane Brown would be there tonight but the minute he saw her, he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave without speaking with her.
He heard the bartender’s jovial greeting as he hurried past the bar, but he didn’t slow down. His heart pounded in his chest as his gaze took in every detail of her clothing, her hair, her face.
The more he saw, the more beautiful she was in his eyes.
In the bar’s warm, mellow golden light, her hair was a shiny, deep mahogany. Smooth and straight, it hung over her shoulders, reflecting the light of the candle on the table. Shorter pieces framed her face, making her eyes look very large. Doe eyes.
Her makeup was soft, her lips a muted red, just deep enough to emphasize their fullness. Her eyes sparkled as she chatted with a woman sitting in the chair next to her at the round table. As he drew nearer, he noticed how the deep V of her red top showed just enough cleavage to stir his interest.
Her friend noticed him before Jane did. He didn’t miss her questioning stare as he stepped up to their table. Nor did he miss her obviously approving smile.
“Hi,” the woman said in a low voice.
Most likely curious, Jane followed her friend’s gaze, halting when she saw him. “Hi,” she said in a cold tone that was clearly meant to scare him off.
Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty) Page 68