He bucks his hips against me, and we both groan into each other’s mouths. His eyes are on me, and I stare right back. It’s intimate . . . far too intimate . . . and I close my eyes. If I’m not careful, I’m going to become addicted to this feeling. To the feeling of him. Of us. And that could only lead to heartache. If this is all I get—if this kind of relationship is all we’re capable of—then damn it, I’m going to enjoy the ride.
Literally.
“Touch yourself, baby. I’m so close.”
I slide my hand down between us, and Drew bows his head to watch. His needy groan causes my entire body to jerk in response.
“Imagine that’s my hand. Imagine that’s my tongue.”
It’s the only visual I need, and I come hard, screaming his name as his hips thrust wildly. I hear my name, too, and it’s a deep groan before finally turning into something soft and sweet and breathless.
***
Drew
Once we get dressed again, I sit down on the bench and pull Lily into my lap. She starts to adjust my tie and I wonder what she’s thinking. I have to ask her now before I chicken out.
“Lily, I have a proposition for you.”
“Oh?”
I nod. “A business proposition.” Oh, God. She’s never going to go for this!
“I’m listening.” She seems suspicious.
I take a deep breath and get my nerves under control. I hope she doesn’t notice. I don’t want to do this here, in the dressing room, so I ask her if she can come by my house tonight. She tells me she has an appointment but can come after that. I make sure she still has my card from Saturday night.
“Come to my house around seven. We’ll have dinner, and then I’d like to discuss something with you. You can say no. Honestly, you’ll probably slap the shit out of me, but I’m willing to take that chance.” I really hope it doesn’t come to that.
“A business proposition?” Her question is laced with apprehension.
“Yes.” I smile as reassuringly as I can and kiss her on the cheek. “It’s just dinner and conversation. No need to look so worried.”
She laughs at that and I get up to leave. I turn back for one more quick kiss and hurry out the door.
Chapter 4
Drew
What the fuck am I doing? How in the hell is this going to work? Did I really expect Lily to just show up at my house and agree to marry me? Maybe I’m the one who’s bat shit crazy!
But then I think about the visit I had with my mother this afternoon, and I know I have to do everything I can to make her happy. She was having a pretty good day. She remembered my name the entire time I was there, so that qualifies. Growing up an only child, all she talked about was how much she was looking forward to being the Mother-of-the-Groom and watching me get married. It’s seriously fucked up, but it’s her wish, and I want to grant it before she forgets me for good.
I hope Lily was serious the other night when she said she never expects to get married, but her mother wants it to happen. We can make both of them happy, and she can continue to run her business without worrying about her finances.
She just has to see the practical side of this, and say yes.
I get the steaks ready to put on the grill while I work out my argument. I’m an attorney, after all. I should be able to convince her to do this. I hope.
***
Lily
I’m not sure what I expect to find at 126 Franklin Lane, but I am not prepared for the gated mansion with its circular driveway.
How much do attorneys make in this town?
The gate is open, so I drive slowly to the front of the house. It’s gorgeous with Corinthian columns and fairy-tale balconies. There’s a fountain in the middle of the circular drive that has beautiful lighting and water sprays.
I’m pretty sure I’ve died and gone to real estate heaven.
After a quick check of my makeup in the rearview mirror, I climb out of the car.
The pathway to the door is lined with several different types of flowers. They’re pretty and smell amazing. It makes me wonder if Drew planted them himself. But then I think about the size of this place and realize he probably has a gardener. And a maid. And a chef. And a hundred gorgeous girlfriends.
By the time I knock on the door, I’m a nervous wreck. I struggle to control my breathing and my shaking hands.
I’m expecting a butler, so I’m surprised when Drew opens the door. His gaze instantly sweeps over me, and I smirk at his appreciative gaze. Before my six o’clock appointment, I’d changed into a pencil skirt. The hunger in his eyes assures me I made the right wardrobe choice.
“Hi, Lily.”
He sounds anxious, and I can’t help wondering if there’s more to this business proposition than just simple financial advice.
“Hello.”
“Come in,” he says, waving me inside. “Did you have any trouble finding the house?”
I laugh. “This place is a little hard to miss, don’t you think?”
“True.” He grins and leads me through what is probably considered a foyer, but I’m pretty sure I could fit my entire bedroom into the area. “It’s a nice evening. I thought we’d have dinner on the patio.”
“Okay.”
Before we make it past the entry, he turns and faces me. He looks like he has something to say, so I stop and wait. In an instant, he grabs my face and pulls me into a deep kiss. His lips are soft, and I moan as his mouth becomes urgent. He pushes me back against the wall, and my body melts against his as his tongue finds mine. Drew groans loudly, and I’m ready to wrap my legs around his waist when he suddenly breaks away, burying his face against my neck. I try to catch my breath and calm my hammering heart.
He lifts his head. “Sorry. I just couldn’t help myself. You are so beautiful.”
I blush and look down at the floor.
“Come on. I promised to feed you.”
We grin and he grabs my hand, leading me further into the house. I follow him out onto the dimly lit patio. The table is set and I can smell something on the grill. There’s a chilled bottle of wine waiting for us.
“I hope you like steak,” Drew says, offering me a seat. He reaches for the wine. “I probably should have asked.”
“Steak’s great. You’re doing the grilling?”
“That surprises you?”
“Well, now that I’ve seen your house, yeah. I just assumed you have a chef or something.”
“I gave her the night off.”
“Oh.”
I reach for my glass and take a long sip.
“You’re nervous.”
“What tipped you off?”
He smiles. “Because I’m nervous, too.”
With a sigh, I place my glass on the table. “All right, why am I here?”
“Like I said, I have a business proposition for you. And I’d appreciate if you’d hear me out entirely before you slap me or kick me in the balls, okay?”
I nod. “Go on.”
“I’d like to wait until after dinner.”
“I’d like to know now.”
He sighs loudly and gets up to check the grill. The steaks smell amazing despite the fact that my stomach is twisted into knots. He returns to the table and reaches for his glass. I can tell he’s anxious. I just don’t know why.
“I would like to pay off the mortgage on your business.”
He says it nonchalantly, like he’s just offered to buy me a tank of gas.
“And why would you want to do that?”
“Because you’re good at your job, and you enjoy it.”
I don’t believe that for a second. For one, he’s known me for less than forty-eight hours, and he knows nothing about me except that I’m a wedding planner and that I am willing to have sex in public places. For another, he’s never seen me do my job because his buddy got left at the altar. But for the sake of conversation, I play along.
“Okay . . . and in exchange?”
He pours more wine into each
of our glasses. I’m tempted to down it, but I have a feeling I’m going to need to keep my wits about me so I take a long drink and wait for his answer.
“And in exchange,” Drew says, his voice breaking slightly, “you marry me.”
As if those words aren’t insane enough, he reaches into his pocket and places a velvet box next to my wine glass. I stare at the black box while my heart thunders in my chest. I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. Marry him?
“Say something,” he whispers.
Several words come to mind. Whore. Slut. Prostitute. But none of those words come out of my mouth. Instead, I jump out of my seat and say what’s really running through my head.
“Are you fucking crazy?!”
“You promised to hear me out.” His wide eyes plead with me to listen.
“I don’t need to hear you out. You’re insane! I’ve known you for forty-eight hours, and you’re proposing?”
He stands up, and we stare each other down like a pair of wild animals ready to pounce. Two minutes ago, that might have been fun.
But not now! There will be no pouncing tonight.
“Please,” he says softly, and it’s the please that breaks me. He sounds so vulnerable, so scared, and I can’t deny I’m curious as to why he would ever think this was a viable option or a good idea.
I slowly sit back down. He does the same.
“I’m going to need more wine,” I tell him. Fuck having a clear head now! He wants to get married? What the hell?
He uncorks the bottle and tops off my glass. I take a long drink while he gathers his thoughts.
“I told you that my mother is eager for me to get married. What I didn’t tell you is why.” Drew grabs his own glass and quickly finishes his wine before continuing. “My mom is . . . ill. She has dementia.”
His voice breaks, and it’s all I can do not to reach out to him. I’m beyond stunned that he’s shared this information with me.
“There are days when she’s as lucid as ever. Other days, she’s asking me to find my father, and he’s been dead for five years. During her more coherent moments—when she knows exactly what’s happening to her—she asks me when I’m getting married. That she wants to see me married before she . . . forgets who I am.”
“I’m sorry about your mom,” I tell him, “but I’m still not sure what this has to do with me. You’re obviously wealthy. You’re sexy as hell. You could have your pick of women who are ready and willing to be your wife. Why me?”
“Because I don’t want a wife, and you said that marriage isn’t in the cards for you. We’re . . . really good together. No expectations. No strings. Fuck-hot sex. If I’m going to be bound in holy matrimony, I’d prefer you to anyone else.”
How’s that for a rousing endorsement.
“It doesn’t even have to be legal,” he assures me. “All we need is the ceremony and the illusion that we’re living happily ever after. That’s all my mom wants. And in exchange, I’ll pay off your mortgage. You’d never have to worry about losing your business. Hell, you could even expand if you want. I’ll bankroll all of it. You could truly be financially independent for the rest of your life.”
Two words I never expected to hear – financially independent.
I start to think about all the things I’ve always wanted to do with my business. I could hire a seamstress and print invitations instead of sending them out to other companies. We could add more staff, allowing Sierra and I to concentrate on planning and directing, instead of the daily duties of the shop.
Damn, it’s tempting.
“And how long would we keep up the charade?” I ask hesitantly, terrified of his answer.
His eyes meet mine, and in the deep pools of brown, all I see is sadness. He doesn’t have to answer the question. I can read it all over his face.
“Drew, that’s seriously fucked up.”
“I know, but believe it or not, my intentions are good.”
I do believe that. The guy obviously loves his mother and would do anything to make her happy. But isn’t this . . . wrong? Fucked up? On so many levels?
I decide to be honest. “I really don’t know that I can do this.”
“That’s not a no.”
“It’s not a yes, either.”
“Does that mean you’ll consider it?” He grins slightly and nods toward the ring. “The jeweler assured me that you couldn’t possibly say no to that rock. You should look at it.”
“I don’t want to look at it.”
He sighs and nudges it a little closer to me.
“Fine,” I mutter, reaching for the box. I hold my breath and lift the top.
I gasp.
Loudly.
Naturally, I’ve seen my fair share of engagement rings, in various shapes and sizes.
They were nothing compared to this massive diamond.
It remains in the box. I don’t touch it.
“It’s platinum.”
“Okay . . .”
“And three carats.”
Holy shit.
He watches me warily. “If you don’t like it, we can certainly—”
“Drew, stop. The ring is amazing.”
“Oh. Good.”
I close the lid on the beautiful, and completely inappropriate, ring. An awkward silence fills the air as I fidget in my seat. I have absolutely no idea what to do or say in this moment. My mind is on overload with all the possibilities and scenarios. This man—this beautiful, sexy man—is offering to make my dreams come true. All it will cost me is a wedding vow.
A wedding vow that is destined and designed to be broken.
Can I do this?
“I think . . . I’m going to need some time,” I tell him. It’s all I can give him.
“But it’s not a no?”
I shake my head, and he sighs with relief.
“Good. And of course, you should give yourself some time to think. I wouldn’t expect you to say yes tonight.”
“Okay.” I stand, and he does the same. That’s when I remember the steaks. “I’m sorry about dinner. I’m sure it would have been delicious. I just . . . seem to have lost my appetite.”
“It’s no problem, Lily. You’re okay to drive?”
I nod, and he leads me through the house and out into the evening air. Just as he’s about to open my car door, I turn to him.
“I don’t even know your last name.”
He smiles. “It’s Hamilton. Andrew Hamilton.”
Lily Hamilton.
Could that be me?
He doesn’t try to kiss me this time. He simply opens my door, and I climb inside.
“Drive safely.”
“I will.”
“And Lily? Really think about it. I could take care of you for the rest of your life . . . if you’ll let me.”
“Being taken care of has never been a dream of mine,” I tell him. It’s important he understands this. “I might not be wealthy, but I’ve been independent for a very long time. I like having my own money. I like doing what I want. I like not having to answer to anyone.”
“And none of that has to change,” he assures me. “I don’t want to control you. I just want to make my mother’s wish come true. That’s all.”
“Okay, as long as we’re clear.”
Drew nods.
“I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Goodnight, Lily.”
“Goodnight.
He closes my door, and I don’t allow myself to look in the rear view mirror as I drive away.
***
Drew
“That went as well as a turd in a punch bowl!” I say to the wall. FUCK! I was really hoping she would be a little more receptive to the idea. I have to remind myself that she needs some time to think it over. I am not a patient man, but I’ll have to be.
I go back out to the patio and finish the steaks. My appetite is gone now, too. Maybe the gardener will want to eat them for lunch tomorrow. I finish my wine and head inside to drown my sorrows with
something much stronger.
***
Lily
The week passes without a word from Drew. I’m grateful for the time to think, and thinking about him and his ‘business proposition’ is all I seem to be capable of doing.
Ironically enough, I can’t focus on work, despite being near financial ruin. Work reminds me of money. And weddings. And mammoth engagement rings that belong in a museum instead of on my hand.
I have no idea what to do, and no one to talk to. It’s in these moments I wish I made time for friends. Sierra is the closest thing to a friend in my life, and even at that, she’s more of a business partner than a girlfriend. And I certainly can’t talk to my mom. She’d be here in an instant, picking out her Mother-of-the-Bride dress.
One of my clients arrives with her mom, and she spends the next two hours trying on fifteen dresses without making a decision. Once they leave, I suddenly have plenty of work to keep me busy. I grab a few of the dresses and head to the racks, and that’s when inspiration strikes.
It’s as if there is a gravitational pull between my body and my secret wedding dress. The dress I love. The only dress that’s ever made me long to be a bride.
You could wear it.
The thought stops me in my tracks. My heart rate spikes, leaving me lightheaded and breathless.
Just imagine how you’d look, walking down the aisle to meet the man of your dreams.
Apparently, there has been a demon Bridezilla living deep within my subconscious for a while, because she’s suddenly very loud and annoying.
And very convincing.
In a foolish move, I grab the gown off the rack and walk to the dressing room.
Our dressing room.
I’ll never be able to step inside this room without thinking about Drew.
I close the door behind me. Briefly, my gaze darts to the wall.
Our wall.
My dress.
I ignore the rational side of my subconscious that screams at me, telling me this is a very, very bad idea.
I take off my clothes, and I slip on the dress. I manage to zip myself, and then I close my eyes before turning toward the mirror.
Open your eyes.
I do, and the vision is enough to knock me breathless. It’s beautiful, and I’m beautiful in it.
With This Ring (Wedding Dreams #1) Page 3