Strip Search

by Erin McCarthy

  “Her name is Leighton Van Buren. She’s from LA.” He shook his dad’s outstretched hand. “Thanks, Dad. Appreciate it.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” his mother shrieked, repeating herself. “How do you know a woman from Los Angeles? You told me that girl is someone you’re dating.”

  “We just met on Friday. She’s in town to film a TV show as part of the production crew.” He felt mildly guilty over his mother’s distress but he figured give her a day or two and she’d be enthusiastically saying she’d always known he would marry someone from California or some shit like that. Hillary Moore was tough as nails but she could also spin anything to fit her narrative.

  His father just nodded, like this was no particular issue. “When it’s time it’s time.”

  “Rob, are you nuts?” His mother glared at his father. “And Axl, you’re clearly nuts. It’s Sunday. How can you say you’re marrying someone you met two days ago?” She made a sign of the cross.

  Considering they were not Catholic and his mother had never been particularly religious, it was an intriguing and dramatic gesture. “Mom. I’m decisive. You know that.”

  “You cannot confuse lust with love.”

  Setting his apple down, he picked up her broken bowl and tossed it in the trash bin. “I’m twenty-nine years old. I know the difference, trust me.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll be at the wedding. I can bring Leighton over this week to meet you.” He had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well with Leighton but if held her hand and did most of the talking he could bluster his way through it. Especially if the introductions took place somewhere public.

  “We’ll be there.” His father opened the refrigerator again.

  His mother slapped his father’s arm. “Get out of the damn fridge!”

  “Oh, by the way,” Axl added, striving for casual. “The wedding is going to air on TV in a few months as part of Leighton’s show.” He’d gotten a text from Leighton that her boss had given the plan the thumbs up.

  “Now you’ve really lost it. You expect me to be on TV when I’m growing out my gray? I need another six months!”

  That kind of amused him. “It’s not a big deal. You look beautiful, Mom.”

  She gave him a look that would skin a live cat.

  “So tell us about this girl,” his father said. “What’s so special about her that you’re taking the plunge into marriage?”

  Axl cleared his throat, bending over onto the kitchen island to give the question some thought. Yeah, this wasn’t real. But Leighton was special. He thought about the way she looked lying on that big hotel bed, eyes rolling back in pleasure. He pictured her fear on that stage and how she had held on to him like he was her port in the rockiest storm. How she had tried to flirt with him to save his job. He smiled.

  “She’s intelligent, she’s beautiful, she’s sweet.” He fingered his half-bitten apple and contemplated how she’d stumbled into his life and how crazy this all really was. No regrets though. He wanted every damn minute he could have with Leighton before she went home to her California lifestyle.

  When he stood up, his mother’s mouth was open and there were tears in her eyes.

  “Your expression… Oh, my Lord, Axl. I’ve never seen you like this over a girl.” She came over and hugged him. “Honey. Is this the one who can get you to open up? That’s wonderful.”

  He took the hug begrudgingly. His mother’s mission in life. To get him to “open up.” Whatever that meant. He’d long ago given up on her just accepting that he was a guy who didn’t want to talk about his feelings and that did not make him in need of therapy or baked goods. It made him a guy who worked shit out on his own. “All right. Let’s not get gushy.”

  She smacked his arm and pulled back to wipe her eyes. “When are we meeting this girl? And good Lord, what am I supposed to wear?”

  So okay, he felt a tinge of guilt deceiving his mother.

  But the bright side was he would be free to live out his life in peace as a bachelor who lived alone on the lake after this. No one would dream of bringing up dating if he’d been dumped by a new bride.

  “Just don’t wear black. It’s not a funeral.”

  It might be his if his parents found out the truth.

  But he’d seen combat and tackled criminals.

  Fake-marrying an adorable blonde who tasted like sugar didn’t scare him.

  Much.

  Seven

  Having a cameraman and a lighting guy film him prepping steaks to throw on the grill didn’t bother Axl as much as he thought it would. He was good at getting in the zone. He had great concentration skills, and an ability to block out distractions, which he employed right now as he seasoned the New York Strips on a plate on his butcher-block kitchen island. Leighton was next to him, tossing a salad, looking far less comfortable than he felt.

  She was talking too fast. “So we’ll do the interviews today and then tomorrow we have a cake tasting scheduled, is that okay? You should sync your calendar with mine so I don’t schedule anything when you have to work.”

  He let her run down, like a windup toy. “Babe, I don’t use the calendar on my phone so there’s nothing to sync. I’ll just text you my shifts. Cake tasting tomorrow is fine.” He gave her a smile. “I like cake.”

  “You do? Or we could do doughnuts. Do you like doughnuts? Or cupcakes.”

  Her voice was starting to rise a little hysterically so Axl set down the container of sea salt down on the countertop. He reached over to Leighton and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “I like you.”

  Leighton’s lips parted in surprise and she said, “Oh.” Color tinged her cheeks. “I like you too.”

  It was the truth. He did like her. She was pretty damn adorable. He leaned over the meat and gave her a soft kiss. “Let’s go put these on the grill.”

  “Okay. Sure.” She cleared her throat and turned to her co-workers. “We’re stepping outside to put these on the grill. We’ll be right back.”

  “Sure, no problem.” Jackson lowered his camera.

  “Do you want a beer or a soft drink or anything?” Axl asked the two guys.

  “No, I’m good, thanks.”

  The other one, who had introduced himself as Brad, accepted a soft drink.

  Axl held open his kitchen screen door and Leighton slipped through. He followed her, plate in hand, to the grill that was his pride and joy. It was both charcoal and gas, with a smoker. The granddaddy of grills. As he fired up the propane, he set the plate down and turned to Leighton. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

  She nodded and sat down on his picnic table, crossing her legs. She was facing outward, not toward the table. “I’m fine. You?”

  “Never better.” With tongs he lifted the steaks onto the grill. “How do you like your meat?” He wasn’t going to lie. He meant that to sound dirty.

  Leighton eyed him. “You should know.”

  He laughed. “I have a good idea. As for your steak, how does medium rare sound?”

  “That sounds perfect.” She glanced around, settling back against the picnic table. “I like your place, Axl. It’s so peaceful here.”

  “Thanks. That’s what drew me to it too. I know the house isn’t much, but it works for a single guy like me.” His mother always threatened to decorate it for him, but she knew better than to come into his house and make it feminine. He’d burn it down before he’d let her turn his sanctuary into an ode to Tuscany. They were in Minnesota, not Italy, though his mother never seemed willing to admit that.

  “I like the house. It’s cozy.”

  “You mean small.”

  But she shook her head. “I mean cozy. You can really feel at home. I grew up in a twenty thousand square foot house. There is nothing homey about that, trust me.”

  “Damn. I can’t even imagine that. My parents have a standard middle-America colonial. Enough room to get away from my sisters but not so much we could hide from each other.
” Axl flipped the steaks on the grill and added asparagus to the basket on the upper rack.

  This felt like a normal date. Casual conversation. Getting to know someone. Getting to know Leighton. Except that he already knew her intimately. Had watched her eyes darken with pleasure. Had tasted her pussy and sank his cock inside her. It gave him an easiness around her he didn’t normally feel on a first date. It was an odd juxtaposition.

  “I always wanted sisters,” Leighton said. “So desperately.”

  “You can have mine,” he joked.

  A funny look crossed her face that he couldn’t interpret.

  “I forgot my wine inside,” she said, and quickly rose from the picnic table. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll be in in two minutes,” he told her. “I don’t want to overcook these.” Nothing worse in his opinion than taking all the pink out of a filet and making it tough to chew.

  “Sure.” Leighton ducked inside.

  He wasn’t sure she was comfortable with any of this but they did engage in what he thought was easy conversation while they ate. Leighton smiled at him frequently and her voice had returned to a normal pitch. Maybe that was because cameras were off and Jackson and Brad ate with them. After they were finished eating, though, they sat on his couch facing the camera.

  Leighton had given Jackson questions to ask them, which seemed ironic. Hopefully easy. She had given him instructions to rephrase the question in his answer, since Jackson asking the questions would be edited out.

  The very first one didn’t seem so hard. “What kind of wedding would be your dream wedding? Sky’s the limit.”

  Axl shifted on the couch, his hand resting lightly on Leighton’s thigh. “My dream wedding would be outdoors. Small, casual.”

  “That’s it? Anything specific you want to add?” Leighton asked him.

  “Nope.”

  She frowned at him. “That doesn’t make for good TV, Axl. You need to have a specific request or demand. A deal breaker. Something over-the-top.”

  He could see her point. That was the way reality TV worked. If they were shopping for houses, they always had some crazy demand like a separate bedroom for their cat. The wedding shows must work the same way. “Okay. I would like to get married on my boat. The actual ceremony, I mean. And I want a wedding cake shaped like a fish. I think that would be cool.”

  Her face made it obvious she thought he was insane, but hey, she’d asked.

  “I guess if there is a nautical theme the groom’s cake could be a fish,” she said reluctantly.

  “Can it be red velvet? I love red velvet.”

  “It’s going to look like the fish is bleeding.”

  But Axl shrugged. “I mean, the inside of a fish doesn’t look like double fudge.”

  Her nose wrinkled, but she did look a little amused. He nudged her knee with his. “What’s your idea of a dream wedding?”

  “I’ve never thought about it.”

  “Liar.” He could tell she had. It looked like an entire wedding start to finish was ready to burst forth from her tongue.

  She turned to the camera, taking a deep breath, like she was steeling herself to be on camera. “My dream wedding would be in an English garden, with roses everywhere. An arch made of roses, rose petals in the aisle.” She started to get in to it, her hand coming up to indicate the arch. “I want a bubble machine, pearl divers, and champagne bottles descending from the ceiling. Oh!” She turned to him excited. “The Queen Mary! Or the Titanic! That would be the perfect aquatic meets upscale theme.”

  “Baby, the Titanic sank and almost two thousand people died. I don’t think a watery grave is a good wedding theme.” Or a good theme for any party. Slightly too gruesome. Actually, a lot too fucking gruesome.

  “True. Good point. But the Queen Mary would be amazing.”

  “Except that thing is docked in LA, correct?”

  “It’s my dream wedding,” she said in protest. “We’re just collecting ideas so the perfect surprise wedding for us can be planned.”

  “But you’re planning it. So it’s not a surprise.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him again. “You’re not getting it.”

  “Nope. Not one bit.” He reached out and tapped her nose. “But I trust you to get it. I’m just here for the cake and the wedding night.”

  Jackson laughed from behind the camera. “Dude. I feel ya on that.”

  “That’s tacky,” Leighton said.

  “I never claimed to be classy.” He gave her a grin. “Sure you want to marry me?”

  Leighton bit her lip, as if she were giving it actual thought and this wasn’t an elaborate scheme to save their asses at work. “Yes,” she said softly. “I’m sure.”

  Without warning, he felt his gut twist. Her words sounded so sweet. So real. He studied those lips, so full and pink and perfect. Then he covered her mouth with his in a kiss that was spontaneous but also necessary. Because if he let her see into his eyes she might uncover the truth. That yes, he liked being alone. But he was also lonely.

  He didn’t admit that to himself very often. But he was resigned. Women he’d dated had made it damn clear he didn’t give enough. If three girlfriends had all said that, the problem was clearly him.

  Ignoring those thoughts, he pulled back and told her, “You can have anything you want. You deserve roses and champagne and fine dining.”

  His gut twisted again.

  He must be hungry.

  That was the only reasonable explanation.

  Not that he was falling for Leighton for real.

  * * *

  Leighton was having trouble breathing and it had nothing to do with a panic attack. The way Axl looked at her was robbing her of all the air in her lungs. It reminded her of the way he had stared down at her intently when he was buried deep inside her body. She felt herself shift closer to him on the couch so that their legs were touching.

  “This is your wedding too,” she told him. “So fish cake it is.” He was actually pretty sweet in addition to all his other very sexy attributes. God, she was so attracted to him. He made her feel beautiful and sensual and cherished. Her nipples were hardening in her bra and she felt the sudden urge to cross her legs to quiet the desire sparking to life.

  Of course none of this was real, so it was easy for him to say she could have her roses.

  That thought threw metaphorical ice water on her libido. She broke their eye contact and swiveled so she was facing the camera again. “Next question, Jackson.”

  “What is the most important part of the wedding day?”

  It was a polarizing question. About fifty percent of the time it resulted in the groom saying something like “the open bar.” It was designed to gauge if he was a sentimental groom or a joking kind of guy. That way they could direct events and footage to either go for the tears or to come off as a big entertaining party.

  Axl surprised her. She had assumed he would make a joke about it. But he said, “The most important part of the wedding day is the first time you see the bride. That’s a really special moment. Knowing this woman is willing to walk through life with you.”

  Leighton turned to him in amazement. Damn it. She was toast. The man was hot and romantic. It just wasn’t fair. How was she supposed to stay distant and professional when he said things like that?

  Maybe he was a phenomenal actor. But he seemed too straightforward of a man to be pulling platitudes out of his ass.

  “How about you, Leighton?”

  She’d forgotten Jackson and Brad existed. Now she removed her hand from Axl’s knee, where it had mysteriously wound up and turned to the camera, forcing herself to not drop her eyes down. “The most important part of the wedding day is the vows. My parents have been married for thirty years and I want the same thing. A lifetime.”

  It was the truth. She wanted all or nothing. No dabbling in marriage. No playing house with a boyfriend. Some people might want to live together indefinitely but that wasn’t for her. She needed a comm
itment.

  Ironic then, that Axl had already told her he had commitment issues. Or intended to stay single, anyway.

  They were playing a dangerous game here.

  She reminded herself what was at stake. Losing her job. Moving back in with her parents. Their disappointment. Her own feeling of failure. She’d never get another job in the industry because she had signed that damn non-compete clause. She could only work for another show if Wedding Crashers went off the air. Even if she was fired.

  Fortunately, Jackson seemed to be in a hurry to get through the questions. Since he wasn’t the one who usually asked them, he seemed annoyed by the role. His words were monotone.

  “What colors do you want to showcase at your reception?”

  “Blush,” she said with zero hesitation.

  “I don’t even know what that is.” Axl stretched out his legs and said, “I think blue is a good color. It’s solid.”

  She wasn’t sure what made a color “solid” but she was fine with it. “How about teal?”

  “Is that blue?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then sure.”

  “Blush and teal go well together.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.” Leighton realized she had said the very thing that a bride was supposed to say at her wedding. She dragged her tongue across her bottom lip, moistening it.

  Axl made a sound in the back of his throat.

  “Where did you meet?” Jackson said.

  “Online,” Axl said.

  “Bachelorette party,” she said, at the exact same time.

  “Neither one of those is a good answer,” Brad called out, the beer Axl had offered him halfway to his lips.

  Leighton was annoyed. When had he switched from soda to beer? And who said his opinion was needed here? “Next question.”

  “What’s your favorite vacation?”

  “Go first,” she told Axl.

  “Since I got back from my deployment in Afghanistan, I love the trees and water. Nothing with sand. So, my favorite vacation would be renting a cabin on the lake for a week. Fishing and boating.”

  “Leighton?”