Always a Bridesmaid

by Lizzie Shane

  “You aren’t going to convince me you had a hard time getting girls in college.” She remembered too well how insanely gorgeous he’d been, even when he was going through awkward growth spurts.

  “Okay, fine. I just liked to dance.” He spun her out and then reeled her back in, the move startling a laugh out of her.

  “You should be a professional wedding date. That can be your next business. You’ll make millions.”

  He arched his brows at her. “What makes you think I’m looking for a new business?”

  “Aren’t you? Sidney calls it your three year itch. Once a business is thriving, you have to sell it and run away to Thailand or Africa.”

  * * * * *

  Max frowned, tucking Parv closer to avoid another couple on the dance floor. The more he saw himself through Parv and Sidney’s eyes, the more uncomfortable he became with their image of him. “I think my sister tells you too much.”

  Parv grimaced. “Not lately.”

  The song ended and the band segued into a slow, jazzy old ballad. Max drew Parv into the sway of the dance—and tried not to think about how she fit in his arms. She was off limits and he needed to remind himself of that.

  “How goes the e-dating battle?” He pitched his voice just for her ears.

  Parv groaned. “Don’t ask.”

  “That bad?”

  “I went out with a guy last week who kept insisting I was the spitting image of Priyanka Chopra—only he couldn’t remember her name so he kept calling her ‘Quantico Girl.’”

  Max studied her. “I can see it.”

  Parv rolled her eyes, visibly unimpressed. “Please.”

  “No, I can. It’s the mouth.”

  “He was trying to get laid. What’s your excuse?”

  “I’m serious,” Max insisted. “I used to have fantasies about that mouth.”

  Parv missed a step. “What?”

  It wasn’t until he had to bring her back into the rhythm of the dance that he realized he’d said too much.

  Parv was hot. He’d always thought she was hot. Insanely, holy shit, hot. And it was starting to bug the hell out of him that she didn’t see how sexy she was.

  Her mouth had made him insane for years. But she was his sister’s best friend and he wasn’t supposed to admit things like that about his sister’s best friend. Not to himself and certainly not to her.

  He forced his tone to be casual, blasé. As if he hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary. “I was a horny teenager. And you have a hot mouth. Accept it.”

  She blinked, blushing. “Okay.”

  He needed to get them back on friendly terms. Brotherly terms. Even if the way he was feeling with her swaying so close to him was far from brotherly.

  He’d forgotten how long this song was. Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered. He was definitely that. And if there were another three verses he might lose his mind if he couldn’t get things back on comfortable footing.

  He wasn’t possessive of her. He was protective. That was fine. Brotherly, damn it.

  “I’m starting some new self-defense courses at Elite Protection. You should take some.”

  She frowned at the apparent non sequitur. “I thought those were for celebrities only.”

  “That’s the idea—so they don’t have to worry about fans or paparazzi sneaking into the classes—but you have an in with the owner.” He steered her away from another couple. “I just don’t like the idea of you going out with all these strangers and not knowing how to defend yourself.”

  “You could teach me yourself.”

  The image hit him in the gut—grappling with Parvati, putting his hands on her to teach her how to twist her way free. No. He most definitely could not teach her himself. Not without both of them ending up naked.

  Chapter Eighteen

  He’d been silent for too long.

  She didn’t know what she’d said, but it felt like some line she hadn’t even known was there had been crossed.

  Max wasn’t looking at her. He was making a point of looking everywhere else and as soon as the song ended he released her like she was radioactive.

  “I need some air,” he said abruptly. “Do you want some air?”

  “Sure.”

  He gestured for her to precede him toward the door and fell into step behind her, one hand resting lightly on the small of her back. She wondered if he was even aware of the touch or if it was just instinctive—Max the protector, always with one hand on his subject, aware of her on an instinctual level that had nothing to do with attraction and everything to do with who he was.

  She needed to remind herself of that. No matter what he might say about her mouth, Max saw her as someone to look after. His little sister’s friend. His friend, perhaps. But just a friend.

  She opened the door to the terrace overlooking the golf course. The tables and patio chairs that would be out here during the day were stacked to one side, leaving only a vast, unused space between them and the carved stone railing that wrapped around the perimeter of the terrace.

  Max left the door open, the music drifting out after them as he thrust his hands into his pockets and walked out on the moonlit space. Parv watched him, uncertain what to make of his odd mood.

  Things had seemed normal between them while they were dancing. Comfortable. But somehow a switch had flipped and she didn’t know what had changed.

  Had she somehow given away her feelings for him?

  No. He would have run for the hills if he’d had a clue, not for the nearest balcony.

  “Maybe I should try internet dating too,” he said suddenly, still facing the golf course. “These days most of the people I meet are clients and that’s just bad business.”

  “You’ll be the toast of online dating.” She came up beside him and boosted herself up on the railing. “Some of the sites are perfect for no strings hook-ups.”

  “What if I want strings?” He turned toward her suddenly and she was startled by the intensity on his face. “You think I can’t want what Sidney and Josh have? That I can’t commit to something real?”

  Parv stared at him. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? That he wanted a real relationship? Or was it only a hallucination brought on by the romantic lyrics floating out of the ballroom?

  Someday my happy arms will hold you…

  “I thought you didn’t want that. I guess I figured if you did, it would be easy for you.”

  And someday I’ll know that moment divine…

  “It’s hard to imagine the great Max Dewitt lonely,” she said, her voice strangely hoarse. “You can have anyone you want.”

  “Can I?”

  He held her gaze—and the world fell away.

  This was it. This was the moment when everything would change. His gaze dropped to her mouth and she remembered what he’d said earlier.

  I used to have fantasies about that mouth.

  God yes. She’d had fantasies about every part of him. The song continued to whisper seductively about all the things you are and she felt all of her doubts falling away one by one. This was it. Fate. Serendipity. The moment in her life that made all the waiting worth it.

  Max Dewitt was going to kiss her.

  Finally.

  He leaned closer, one hand lifting toward her face.

  “Max.” It was more exhale than speech, but he didn’t seem to mind. Nothing broke his focus on her lips.

  It was happening. It was really happening. He was so close now.

  Parvati would have pinched herself if she didn’t think she’d fall off the railing if she moved a single muscle. The universe was finally giving her the fairy tale—

  “Parvati! There you are.”

  Max jerked back guiltily—and Parvati jumped in surprise, grabbing at the railing with both hands when she started to tip backward toward the golf course. Max reached out to steady her, but stopped before making contact when she regained her balance without his help.

  Which was almost enough to make her l
et go again, just to see if he would touch her before she took a header toward the sidewalk below.

  He wasn’t looking at her lips now. He wasn’t looking at any part of her.

  Nearly moaning in frustration, Parv turned to glare at the intruder. Asha stood in the doorway, oblivious to the idea that she might have interrupted something—though, in her defense, Parv had introduced Max as just a friend earlier. “Did you need something, Asha?”

  “Mom’s looking for you. There’s someone she wants you to meet who might have a job for you.”

  Parv groaned—her parents’ latest attempt to be supportive was to push networking introductions and job interviews on her. “Tell her I’ll be right there.”

  “Her friend is leaving soon—”

  “I’ll be right there, Asha.”

  “No,” Max said suddenly, reaching for her arm. “You should go now.”

  The Universe hated her.

  The band began a frantic, up-tempo number—as if the mood wasn’t already dead—and Parv took Max’s hand, hopping down from the stone railing. As soon as her feet touched the ground, he let her go—and Parv somehow resisted the urge to cry. Was it really so much to ask that she get the fantasy? Just once?

  But the Fates weren’t with her.

  For the rest of the night they never returned to the terrace, or to the dance floor. Max was always close, but always with a careful distance between them—too far to touch.

  During that moment on the terrace she’d been so sure she was about to get everything she’d ever wanted in one delicious Max-sized package, but the moment was gone and they never came close again. By the time he was driving her home, she’d convinced herself that it was just a trick of the music and the moonlight, making her think things that weren’t real. He hadn’t really been fixated on her mouth. He hadn’t really said he wanted a real relationship. She’d just wanted it so badly she’d convinced herself it was happening.

  This was why she should never have let herself fall in love with him.

  He’d probably thought they were having a perfectly normal conversation about their respective dating prospects and there she was mentally running away into happily-ever-after-ville. The radio played softly the entire ride home, saving her from having to talk to him, and Parv listened to one romantic song after the next, wondering if she would ever hear a love song without this wistful ache.

  Max pulled up in front of her place. He always walked her to the door, always made sure everything was safe and secure before he left, but she still jumped a little when he put his hand on her back as they approached her door.

  “I had fun tonight,” he said casually.

  “My family loved you.” And why wouldn’t they? He was one of them. The Success Elite.

  Yet somehow he’d never made her feel inferior. How was that even possible? How was it Perfect Max never looked at her like she was less than perfect?

  “They all adore you,” he commented.

  “I know. I’m lucky.” Which just made her beat herself up that much more when she disappointed them. She unlocked her door and turned to face him. “Thank you for tonight, Max. I owe you.”

  At first she thought he was nodding, ducking his chin. Later, when she described the moment, she would say it was an accident. She hadn’t expected anything. Frankly, she was still busy being frustrated by the anticlimactic moment on the terrace. She certainly didn’t plan it. Max didn’t give her any kind of look or signal.

  It just sort of happened. She couldn’t even be sure which one of them initiated it.

  All she knew was one second she was saying goodnight to him and the next they were kissing.

  It wasn’t the sort of passionate embrace she’d fantasized about. It was a sweet kiss. A soft, quick brush of his mouth over hers—not a tentative first date kiss, but the kind of kiss two people who had been dating for years might give one another as a hello or goodbye. Absentminded. Automatic. A familiar kiss.

  And right when she started to wonder if it was a friendly familiar kiss—if that was all they were, condemned forever as just friends with no chemistry, no heat—Max leaned back just enough to draw in a sharp breath, angled his head and everything changed.

  It wasn’t sweet anymore. His lips resettled on hers, coaxing and pressing as he deepened the kiss and her brain stuttered to comprehend what was happening—how had they gotten here?

  But then, before she could react, before she could do more than part her lips, he broke away, putting three feet between them and dropping hands she hadn’t even realized had taken hold of her shoulders.

  “Goodnight, Parv.” Casual. Collected.

  “Goodnight, Max,” she echoed automatically, her higher mental functions thrown offline by the last sixty seconds.

  Dazed, she watched him walk to his car and open the driver’s door before she snapped out of it and retreated quickly inside, slamming the door and leaning against it. One hand lifted to touch her lips.

  What had just happened?

  Well, obviously she knew what had happened, but…what the hell?

  What did it mean? And—most importantly—was it going to happen again? Because she’d been so surprised she hadn’t been able to enjoy it properly and if Max was going to start kissing her, she wanted to enjoy every second of it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Parv woke up the next morning and immediately plugged in and turned on her phone, which she’d forgotten to do the night before, so dazed by what she was starting to think of as the Accidental Kiss.

  She wasn’t expecting Max to call, but neither did she want to miss his call just in case he felt like calling and professing his undying love to her. But when she turned on her phone it was to find two missed calls from Sidney, not her brother.

  Had Max told Sidney that they’d kissed? Could he have called her for permission to date Parv?

  It was too early for civilized humans to be awake, so Parv shot Sidney a text apologizing for missing her calls and telling her to call as soon as she was awake. Then she bounced out of bed, trying not to obsess, and headed to Common Grounds to open it and bake away her confusion.

  But two hours later she was still as confused as ever—though at least she had cranberry orange muffins to show for her angst. She kept her phone on her—and even took it out of her pocket roughly every sixty seconds to make sure she hadn’t accidentally turned off the ringer and missed a call. From Sidney of course. Max wouldn’t call. It hadn’t even been a real kiss. He was probably as puzzled by it as she was.

  But if he wasn’t…

  Her phone rang, mid-daydream, and Parv jumped, fishing it out of her pocket and scooching back farther behind the counter to answer it so she wouldn’t disturb her lone Saturday morning customer. Sidney’s name showed on the screen.

  “Sid?”

  “Hey. What happened to you last night?” Sidney asked. “I called you three times.”

  “It was Katie’s engagement party and I forgot to turn my phone back on when I got home. What’s up?” Did Max call you? Do you know?

  “Oh, you know, the usual. My father hates my fiancé.”

  The words were so unexpected, it took Parv a full twenty seconds to process them. “What?”

  “My father was in town last night—something to do with finalizing my parents’ divorce—and since he’s here so rarely, I thought it would be a good time for him to meet Josh. I should have waited for a night when Max was available because he’s always a good buffer, but he had some thing last night that he couldn’t get out of, though he refused to tell me what it was—”

  “He didn’t tell you?” Parv felt a flicker of unease. Why wouldn’t he want Sidney to know he’d been with her?

  “You know how Max gets. All mysterious. Probably a confidential work thing. Or a woman he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s seeing.”

  The words seared through Parv. “Probably,” she echoed weakly.

  “Anyway, he wasn’t available and I stupidly went ahead with dinner anyway
and without my mother or Max there to run interference it was a bloodbath.”

  “Your father really hates Josh? How is that possible? Everyone loves Josh.”

  “We’ve found the one person on the planet who doesn’t love Josh. Lucky me.”

  “Why doesn’t he like him?” Parv asked, still unable to process the idea of anyone hating Josh.

  “You name it. He’s divorced. He makes his living being charming on camera. He treats me like a princess and never makes me feel like I’m not good enough. Hell, I don’t know. Since when does my father need a reason?”

  “He said he doesn’t like Josh because he treats you well?”

  “No. That was just me being bitter. He said some shit about me being a Dewitt and lowering my standards—as if I’m the one who’s settling with Josh.”

  “Neither of you are settling.”

  “He actually accused me of turning myself into a Kardashian because we’re on reality TV. God, the engagement party is going to be a nightmare,” Sidney groaned. “If there even is an engagement party. If there even is a wedding.”

  A traitorous little thought whispered in the back of her mind—that if there wasn’t a wedding maybe she’d get her best friend back—but the guilt chaser that followed made her feel sick to her stomach for even letting something so horrible and petty slither through her brain. “Of course there will be a wedding,” she insisted, firm and confident.

  “Don’t be so sure,” Sidney grumbled. “He kept going on about how if this was what I wanted it was fine, but I was a Dewitt and I needed to think about what was important to me. He actually said I could do better in front of Josh. I wanted to punch him. I can only imagine how Josh felt.”

  ”Have you talked to him about it?”

  “He’s pissed. But he keeps saying he sees my dad’s side of it. That he just wants what’s best for me. I’m terrified he’s going to realize I’m not worth the trouble and bail.”