Not In My Wildest Dreams (McKenna Series Book 2)

by Jamie Hollins

  He puffed his chest out, smiling smugly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  She just shook her head. “Fine. It’ll probably be the only one I give you tonight, so take it all in.”

  “Glad you could make it,” he said to her before turning to their colleague. “Hey, Rhys.”

  He extended his hand to the other man, who accepted it with a firm shake. “Hi, Sean. Hope you don’t mind I came along tonight.”

  “Not at all.” Damn right, I mind. “Mi casa es tu casa.”

  “Hey, Darce, you’re looking good,” Josh slurred, leaning his free hand on the kitchen counter as he threw back what must have been his tenth beer of the night.

  “Thanks, Josh. What the fuck is on your face?”

  Sean barked out a laugh. She was so eloquent.

  Josh stroked his chin suggestively. “What, you don’t like it?”

  “Ah, it’s…different.”

  “Different can be good, Darcy. At least I can grow hair unlike your date there. No offense, bro.” He smiled at Rhys.

  “That’s not her date, asshat,” Sean interjected. “That’s our colleague for the project we’re working on. Rhys Clarke, meet my inebriated and grossly over-challenged roommate, Josh.”

  Rhys nodded his chin up at Josh, but the slight smile on his face wouldn’t be considered friendly.

  “Darcy will want a whiskey. Rhys, can I get you something to drink?”

  “Yeah, a beer would be great.”

  “Coming right up,” Sean said, moving around their small group to get to the refrigerator. He handed back a cold bottle to Rhys and reached for an empty tumbler. He held it up to the light. Yeah, it looked pretty clean.

  Grabbing the neck of one of their bottles of whiskey, he poured Darcy at least three fingers. “Madame,” he called, handing the glass to her.

  “Thanks.”

  “Welcome.” He smiled back at her.

  She looked relaxed, which hadn’t been the case since she’d arrived in Boston. She wasn’t wearing business attire, which, if he were honest, had thrown him for one hell of a loop.

  She’d worn some tight skirt the night before at dinner, and it wasn’t something he was used to seeing Darcy wear. She’d looked great. At one point, he’d caught himself staring at her ass before he realized that the nice ass belonged to Darcy.

  Talk about awkward. He couldn’t imagine Darcy’s reaction if she’d caught him doing that. He’d never hear the end of it for sure.

  Darcy turned to Rhys and tapped him on the shoulder. “Do you mind if I go say hi to someone real quick? I don’t want you to think I’m ditching you or anything.”

  Rhys leaned over toward her and shook his head. “Go ahead. I think I can take care of myself.”

  Jesus, they were practically the same height. So what if the guy could bench-press a taxi. If Darcy wore heels, she’d have to look down at him. That was just wrong.

  Darcy gave a slight smile to Sean before she walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. She was heading toward Colin, his other roommate, and Colin’s girlfriend, Kaylin.

  “Sean.”

  His attention snapped back to Rhys, who’d just called his name. “Yeah, man?”

  “So… Darcy,” he said while looking in the direction she’d just gone. “What’s the deal with her?”

  Sean frowned. “What do you mean, what’s the deal with Darcy?”

  “It’s obvious you guys are pretty close. Are you guys…?”

  Rhys left the sentence hanging.

  God, did the fucker talk in riddles or something?

  “What?” Sean prodded.

  “Is there something going on between you two?”

  Understanding dawned, and Sean raised his brows. “Ah, no, no. We’ve just been friends for a really long time.”

  “Like, friends or good friends?” Rhys asked.

  There were a number of things wrong with that question. First of all, who the fuck asked a question like that? Were they twelve years old?

  Secondly, why was it any of his business what type of friends he and Darcy were? And thirdly, if the guy was asking, that meant he was thinking about putting an application in to be Darcy’s good friend.

  And that wasn’t okay with Sean. Rhys wasn’t the type of guy Sean would pick for her. He wasn’t sure who, exactly, he’d pick for her, come to think of it, but it wasn’t Rhys Clarke.

  “We’re just friends. You know, gossip, shopping, painting each other’s toenails.” Sean got himself another beer from the refrigerator. “Why do you ask?”

  “Why do you think I’m asking? She’s gorgeous and seems really nice. She’s…” Rhys trailed off, looking toward were Darcy had Kaylin bent over with laughter.

  Darcy was nice. And yes, she was a beautiful woman. But she was also intelligent and fucking hysterical. She had a heart of gold, a complete gutter mouth, and could drink any guy he knew, himself included, under the table.

  Rhys had met Darcy twenty-four hours ago, and he was asking for permission to move in on her?

  Fuck no.

  “Not sure you’re her type. Plus, you guys are working together, and I don’t want to rain on your parade, but having a relationship with her would be unprofessional.”

  Rhys looked back at him with narrowed eyes. “You’re telling me that you’ve never slept with someone you’ve worked with before?”

  “Actually, I’ve never slept with anyone I’ve worked with. I’m sure you can’t blame me for looking out for what’s in the best interest of the project. Problems among team members aren’t ideal.”

  Rhys squared his shoulders to Sean and tilted his head to the side. “You’re right.”

  Huh. That was easy. Maybe there were some brains in that bald head of his after all.

  “I’ll just have to hold off until after the project is over.”

  Before Sean could respond, Darcy approached, waving her empty tumbler up in the air.

  “Mind if I get some more of your cheap-ass whiskey?” she asked.

  “Who are you calling cheap, woman?” He reached back, unscrewed the top on the bottle, and tilted it toward her tumbler. “Say when.”

  He began to pour, and as it neared the two-finger mark, he looked up and locked eyes with her. A fleeting look crossed her face, one he hadn’t noticed before. Her bright eyes held his captive, and it wasn’t until Rhys cleared his throat and started to laugh that he looked back at the glass and noticed it was more than halfway full.

  “I’m gonna have to carry you back to the hotel, Darcy,” Rhys said. “Jesus.”

  Sean stopped pouring immediately and put the lid back on the bottle.

  “Nah,” Darcy replied. “I’ve a long way to go before anything like that happens.”

  “The only time I’ve ever seen Darcy drunk enough that I was worried she’d tip over was right after the last day of Seniors’ Week when we were in high school. Remember that, Darce?”

  Darcy sighed, her bright eyes dulling at the memory. “Yeah, that was a rough night.”

  “We had a big bonfire and there were probably a hundred people there. We were all standing around, I left to mingle for maybe half an hour—”

  “Mingle being code for make out with Carly Benson,” Darcy added to Rhys.

  Sean grinned at her. “And by the time I made my way back to the group, Darcy was sitting on the ground with a bottle of Jameson cradled in her lap. You never did tell me what happened to make you get shit-faced.”

  “I can’t recall,” she said, looking into her glass and then taking a sip.

  Rhys nudged her with his elbow. “Must have been something.”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “I really can’t remember. I do recollect the next morning I woke up sitting on the floor at my friend house with my head resting against the arm of the couch. I can’t even remember how I got there.”

  “Speaking of high school,” Sean said seriously, pointing at Darcy. “You, me, foosball. Let’s go.”

  Darcy flashed
a smile. “Bring it, McKenna. You’re fucked.”

  Sean led them through the mass of people and down the basement steps. The basement was poorly lit, and there looked to be even more people there than there were upstairs.

  Who were all these people, and where had they come from?

  They approached the foosball table, and Sean motioned to Darcy to pick a side. It came as no surprise that she picked the side with the red goalie.

  “Darcy, you better pray you don’t lose because I’ve been thinking of lots of God-awful things that I’m gonna make you do.”

  She just smiled and shook her head. “We’ll see.”

  Sean made a big production about stretching out his legs and his shoulders. He bounced up and down on his toes, limbering up his muscles, as Darcy stood there smirking at him and drinking her whiskey.

  “First one to ten wins,” he said.

  Darcy put her half-empty glass on an end table as people started to gather around the table to watch.

  “Ladies first,” Sean said, handing her the little white ball.

  She took it and got into position, her right hand on the nearest handle to the center, her left hand placing the ball against the chute. She looked up at him through her long, dark lashes and asked, “Ready?”

  “I’m always ready, Darcy.”

  With that, she dropped the ball into the game, and it began to ricochet between their players at lightning speed.

  When they had been younger, foosball was the only game they could find to play in the winter. His dad wouldn’t let them get a billiards table for the pub, and they were too little to play basketball at the rec center with the adults.

  So instead they would have foosball tournaments every weekend. Sean had taught Darcy how to play. And like everything else, she’d picked it up quickly. When they played doubles and Sean and Darcy were on the same team, they were unstoppable.

  After a back-and-forth volley, Darcy spun one of her handles hard, snapping the ball down the table and slamming it into the back of his goal.

  “Nice, Darcy!” Rhys laughed.

  Darcy reached over and adjusted the score, careful not to meet Sean’s eyes. But he couldn’t miss the little smile that played on her lips.

  “One to nothing,” he said. “Okay, time to get serious.” He narrowed his eyes at her, which caused her to grin even more.

  He retrieved the ball and dropped it into the game. The back-and-forth volley continued, until Sean got lucky and bounced the ball off one of Darcy’s defenders right into her goal.

  “Too slow, Owens. Don’t even attempt to touch my balls!”

  “I’m gonna be all over your balls, Sean. Ball in,” she yelled as she started the next round.

  Twenty minutes later, he was breathing a little heavier and his forearms were killing him. Darcy had since run out of whiskey, and Rhys, being the nice boy that he was, went to get her some more. Darcy had just scored to even the game.

  “Nine to nine, Darcy. Are your knees shaking yet?”

  “Save it, Sean. Let’s finish this.”

  He could see some anxiety on her face as she stared at the white ball he was about to drop in.

  “Aren’t you the least bit interested in the things I’m gonna make you do when you lose?”

  She looked up at him, and he saw her swallow. Yeah, she was nervous, all right. She didn’t say anything, just shook her head. Her eyes burned with intensity.

  “Here we go,” he said and dropped the ball.

  He didn’t even have time to put his left hand on the nearest paddle before Darcy spun her handle so hard she nearly lifted the end of the table off the floor. One of her players connected with the ball with a loud crack. The sound it made hitting the back of his goal was louder yet.

  Sean stood there, staring at the table with shock. When he finally looked up at Darcy, she stood on the other side biting her bottom lip. If she was trying not to smile, she was failing miserably.

  Fuck.

  He couldn’t help his lips from curling. Pure amusement colored her face as she gazed at him. She pushed off the table, slowly making her way around to his side, gently running her fingers along all the handles as she passed.

  “So…” she said.

  Turning toward her, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned one hip against the table. She looked like she had when they were thirteen: hair tucked back behind her ears, chewing on the inside of her lip, a tinge of pink on the apples of her cheeks.

  “All right. What’s it gonna be?”

  She gave him a sidelong glance as she fiddled with one of the handles on the table. She looked up at the ceiling as if she even had to think about what she was gonna make him do.

  “Well, because I know how fragile your ego is, I’m gonna take it easy on you.”

  “Just tell me, for Christ’s sake.”

  “From now until the end of the party, whenever you talk with someone new, you have to mention that you have a small penis.”

  He threw his head back and laughed at the ceiling. “That’s it?”

  “Yep. In every conversation, you have to work it in. Use some creativity.”

  “I’ll work it in, all right,” he joked. “But Darcy, your plan is slightly flawed. More than a few guests at this party know that I would be telling a complete lie.”

  She narrowed her eyes at his smartass comment. “Humor me, Sean.”

  Rhys came wandering over to the table with Darcy’s refill. “Who won?”

  “Darcy did,” Sean replied. “By the way, Rhys, have I told you yet about my trials and hardships of having a miniature dick?”

  Rhys furrowed his brows at him. “Um, no.”

  “Ah, man. It’s tough. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

  “Ah,” Rhys muttered uncomfortably.

  Sean clapped him on the back, winking at Darcy, who hid her smile behind her full glass.

  “Sean! Pizza!” Josh called down from the main floor.

  Sean walked up the stairs, happy to hear Darcy’s footsteps behind him. He didn’t mind playing the fool for the rest of the night, because it meant Darcy would stick pretty close to his side, just to make sure he didn’t renege on their bet.

  The pizza kid was standing helplessly at the back door, an arm full of pizza boxes stacked almost high enough to cover his eyes.

  “Here man, let me help you with those.”

  Sean took half the stack and put them on the dining room table. People fell on the pizza like vultures. The kid had dumped the rest of the boxes on the kitchen counter. Sean handed him the money and a hefty tip for his trouble. The kid glanced through the money to make sure it covered their order. Darcy, who stood beside him, cleared her throat.

  Oh, right.

  “Hey,” Sean said to the kid. “I’m Sean, and I have a small penis. Which one of these is pepperoni?”

  Darcy’s laughter was like music to his ears.

  Chapter 6

  Darcy’s cell phone vibrated angrily on her coffee table. She didn’t actually hear it but felt it rather. All she heard was Adele crooning in her earbuds, filling her head with a soulful melody about setting fire to the rain.

  Her cell phone, long since buried under several pieces of sketch paper, had been screaming at her all afternoon. In fact, it had been ringing steadily since she’d returned from her trip to Boston four days ago. It rang at the same time every day. And she’d be willing to put quite a bit of money on the fact that the caller ID on the current call would say Sean McKenna. And just like the last couple calls that day, she let it roll to voice mail.

  Bloody Sean McKenna.

  Darcy had been sketching design ideas for hours. This was the second best part of the job. The creative process, where she could dream up lines and colors, textures and patterns.

  The best part of every job was seeing the finished product after her designs came to life.

  Her colored pencils were getting a workout today. And that was a good thing, since she had at least twelve hotel
rooms to dream up.

  Each one would be delicately different. And she’d present them to Hyde Wellington with pleasure. And after she was done, she’d shove them down Sean’s throat.

  Everyone had loved her idea of making each room a different theme. Instead of sending a guest to room seven, they’d send them to the Crimson Room or the Demure Suite. Each suite would have similar layouts but different colors and patterns, making them unique. Even Michael, the man whose only form of communication seemed to be grunting, had given her an appreciative smile.

  Sean, however, had sat at the head of the conference table with his index finger resting against his lips and his brows pulled tightly. He’d leafed through the few drawings she’d mocked up, occasionally bringing his eyes to hers, like he was waiting for the right time to tell her he hated her plans.

  Although he’d never said he didn’t like her idea, his eyes had clouded with uncertainty. She’d held her breath while he perused the pages. And though she hadn’t realized it at the time, her healthy confidence had started to wane. All because the person she was sure would back her a hundred percent ended up being the only one to hesitate.

  To say that he’d hurt her feelings was a gross understatement.

  “They’re certainly different,” he’d said finally.

  What the fuck was wrong with being different?

  She’d held her shit together for the remainder of the meeting, acting like Sean’s lack of support wasn’t chewing her up inside. The group voted to go with Rhys’s most recent round of architectural plans and her unique room-themed idea.

  She and Rhys had two and a half weeks to build their portions of the presentation. Priority number one was finishing her design mockups. Then she had to send over a wish list to Charlie so he could price out all her materials.

  Darcy was a confident woman. Even at a young age, she'd had to work hard for everything she got. She had the self-assurance that she could attain anything she set her mind to.

  When it came to Sean, all that confidence was shaky at best. She didn’t know why her insecurities cropped up when she was around him; they just did. And she hated that, in this case, he was making her doubt her own professional expertise…something she’d never done before.