Sweet but Sexy Boxed Set

by Maddie James

  “I’m going to get my drink,” she yelled to George.

  “Okay,” he answered, turning back to the center of the dance floor.

  The colored lights faded into darkness as she moved away from the center of the club. So much for relaxing, she thought. She couldn’t remember the last time her heart rate raced from dancing. She needed to get out more.

  At the bar, Lynette held Ryan captive. Her hand still rested atop his forearm while she held a drink in the other hand. Allison’s martini stood between the two, almost as a barrier line she hoped neither crossed.

  “Done dancing,” Ryan asked when she stepped close. He pulled his arm free from Lynette’s hold, grabbed the martini glass and handed it to Allison. Electricity pulsed from her hand to the rest of her body when their fingers touched. Time stood still. His brown eyes locked onto hers. His dimpled smile held her captive.

  She licked her lips and was suddenly dying of thirst and was desperate to know how he tasted after all these years. Were his lips still as soft? Would he grab the back of her head, holding her in place as he reminded her?

  “Oh my goodness. I haven’t danced that much in a long time. We really need to do this more often.” George came up behind Allison, waking her from her daydream.

  She pulled her drink from Ryan’s hold. The cold sweetness tried to quench her thirst. Unfortunately, no matter the amount of alcohol, she was afraid only one thing would satisfy her.

  “Will you grab me a water? I’m hitting the guys’ room.” George pecked Allison’s cheek before he turned and left the small gathering.

  “Ryan was just telling me that you and that guy are engaged?” Lynette asked.

  “His name is George. And, yeah. We didn’t really want to say anything and steal Adam and Sarah’s thunder. After all, this week is about them.” Allison turned away, hoping Lynette would drop the topic.

  Her voice rose above the music, “And you two met at work?”

  Draining her glass and setting it against the bar, Allison nodded. She waived to the bartender. As she gave her order, Lynette continued with her questions.

  “And your work is okay with the relationship?”

  “We haven’t told them yet.”

  “I guess you’ll have to eventually, right?”

  “Sure,” Allison answered. When another martini arrived with a glass of water, she turned back to the dance floor.

  The blinking colored lights faded with the dance song. A slower tempo played over the speaker. A disco ball took a turn shining fragmented lights across the floor.

  “You want to dance?” Ryan’s voiced kissed her ear sending a shiver down her spine. She allowed her lids to fall shut for a second to enjoy the feeling before she nodded yes. Her hand fit snuggly into the one he offered, pulling her to the center of the club.

  “Watch our drinks, will ya,” she called over her shoulder to Lynette.

  Beneath the shiny ball, his hands settled just above her butt, where the hem of her shirt and skirt met. His finger grazed the bare skin peeking beneath the sequin top.

  “Thank you for saving me.” His breath smelled of beer and mint gum.

  “You’re welcome but I can’t imagine what you mean.” The teasing in her voice brought a smile across his lips. His lower one sat fuller than his upper but she couldn’t be certain unless she tested her theory. She wondered if she’d get an opportunity before the week expired. “You did date her, twice.”

  “And I instantly remembered why I broke up with her both times.”

  Allison looked away to hide the relief. Ryan might be over Lynette but she wouldn’t quit.

  “I can’t believe you’re getting married,” he said close to her ear.

  “Why?” A defensive tone reared its ugly head.

  “That might have come out wrong. I’m not surprised someone has snatched you up. I guess I just can’t believe…um…never mind.”

  “No what,” she pushed.

  “I don’t know. I guess, or I hoped, when you’d come back home for Adam’s wedding, you’d be…unattached. That I’d get another chance. I mean, I hoped I’d get another chance.”

  “Oh.” Her lips remained in a circle shape.

  And like in high school, he pulled away. Except instead of her brother knocking on her door, the song ended followed quickly by another dance song.

  Holding her hand in his, wasn’t the boy she’d made out with one summer night. Or the boy she’d crushed on her entire teenage life. A man held her with regret and missed opportunities pulling the corners of his mouth.

  He released her hand and as quickly as his revelation appeared, he disappeared, melting into the throngs of dancers pulsating around them.

  Chapter Twelve

  Light beat against Allison’s eyelids. “Ugh. Turn it off.” She rolled over and wrapped the covers tighter around her body. She pulled in a deep breath and stopped.

  Her sheets didn’t smell like the familiar scent of White Shoulder, her grandmother’s perfume. There was a hint of fabric softener but it mostly smelled of musk.

  Like a guy.

  A guy’s musk.

  Allison froze. Her breathing quickened but she managed to tame the air coming in and out. Her heart, on the other hand, pounded in her chest. She didn’t have control of that body part. With eyes closed she listened to the sounds of the body beside her.

  “Good morning sunshine.”

  Allison cracked open an eye to find blue ones staring back at her. Disheveled blonde hair and a brilliant smile added to her pleasant view. “If my mother catches you, I’m in big trouble.”

  “Chill. Grams already left and said I was welcome in your bed any time I wanted.”

  “She did not.”

  George shrugged, “You’re right. But she did let me in.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Time to get up.” George yanked a handful of covers, from Allison’s body.

  “Hey.” She tugged on the comforter, trying to recover her body.

  A gush of chilly air flushed her legs in goose bumps. “What did I ever do to you?”

  George stood causing the bed to spring up from the lack of his weight. “Where do I begin?” He walked with slow strides at the foot of her bed. “I find out only an hour before we get here that I’m your boyfriend. Then I’m forced to play golf,” he spits the last word. “Dancing at the club only made up for a very small portion. But then you make it worse by dirty dancing with high school lover boy, Ryan.”

  Allison leaned against her headboard. The wood bit into to her back. She pushed aside the uncomfortable feeling and stared at George. “We were not dirty dancing.”

  He waived his hand at her. Without looking at her, he continued to pace. “Now, as your fiancé, I’m a little hurt.”

  “Aww. But nothing happened.” The idea they were pretending wasn’t lost on Allison. She’d indulge him long enough to see his point.

  “I’d hope nothing would have happened. I mean, how embarrassing for me.”

  “You’re right. If the places were reversed, I’d be hurt too but we’re not really engaged.” She whispered the last part of her sentence.

  The wooden frame creaked when George sat on the corner. “I know that and you know that but they…” He threw a thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the door. “Don’t know that.”

  Silence fell between them, letting his words digest. He had a point. Except they never talked about what would happen if Ryan actually came on to her. There wasn’t a plan in place.

  “Listen,” he continued. “I’m in this as much as you want me to be. I’ve already told you that. But if this is going to work. If we are going to pretend to be a happy, engaged couple then we need to act like one. And from what I can tell, that doesn’t include dancing very close with another guy.”

  Allison fell over in bed and yelled into her pillow. Life wasn’t fair. Now she had a pretend fiancé and the guy of her dreams admitted he wanted her. Or a chance with her. How would she process his confession?
More importantly, knowing what she did, how could she continue with her charade? Besides, Ryan stated breaking up with Lynette and remembering the reason why while at the club but Allison’s heart knew that he’d ran from her room to his ex’s. What would stop him from doing it again?

  She uncovered her face to find George staring at her again. He played with a loose string on her duvet cover. “You’re right and I’m sorry. To make it up to you we can do whatever you want when I get back from picking up my dress. Deal?”

  “Okay. Now tell me about this dance.”

  “First, did it look that bad?” She pulled herself upright with the hard wood against her back.

  “No. It seemed weird. Short.”

  “Way too short. But he kind of told me he liked me.”

  “Wait. What?” George’s eyebrows rose on his face allowing room for his eyes to go wide.

  “He told me he wished I’d come home for Adam’s wedding unattached.”

  “That settles it. We have to break up and like now.”

  The covers begged her to crawl beneath and hide until the wedding was over, only to sneak away unnoticed. “I can’t.”

  “Why? Don’t you see how perfect this is? He likes you. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

  “Yes but I don’t want to embarrass myself or you by telling the truth, now. Plus, my relationship with my mother is already turbulent. Admitting I lied would only make it worse. This is the first time I feel like she’s on my side. And what if it doesn’t work out again and he runs back to Lynette or some other girl. I don’t think I could handle his rejection for a second time.”

  “You’ll have to eventually tell them because I am not marrying you. No offense. And no one can see into the future.”

  “None taken and I know. Not now. Not during my brother’s wedding. Besides. So he might like me or he’d like an opportunity to see if he does. So what? I can’t risk our plan for a what-if scenario.”

  “I will say this.”

  Allison looked at him. “What?”

  “You two looked really cute dancing together.”

  She threw her head back, smacking it against the headboard. “Ow. You’re killing me.”

  ****

  The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. The way to Allison’s was a hot shower with multiple showerheads pelting water against her skin. Since her parent’s hadn’t gotten around to redoing her bathroom with a spa showerhead, she settled for hard pressure and hot temperatures.

  And she wasn’t disappointed.

  The night before swirled down the drain. She wouldn’t allow herself to wonder. After all, if he was so interested in her, where had he been? Why did he run away? Both answers she wanted to know, eventually.

  She didn’t have time to dwell. A navy blue dress express shipped to the bridal shop waited her arrival. Allison threw on a pair of khakis, a coral crew neck sweater, and brown flats and dashed from the house with wet hair trailing behind her.

  The car ride downtown helped clear her mind. She didn’t want to think about men, moms or pretend engagements. Her focus needed to be on the wedding, which took place in two days. She needed to survive two days.

  Allison found a metered spot across the street from the historic building. During the week, the streets were not as empty as the previous night. A once thriving city became more related to a ghost town than a metropolis. If she honestly considered moving back home, were there marketing positions still left in the city?

  She pulled open the door to the bridal shop leaving the what-if question behind. The traffic in the shop was slower. She stepped up to the window and gave the attendant her name and the correct wedding party name.

  Minutes later, a woman holding a piece of paper greeted Allison and ushered her to the elevators. The same man tipped his golf style flat cap toward Allison, slid the metal door shut, and cranked the lever. The elevator rattled upward, slowly climbing toward the third floor. Riding in an elevator with strangers unnerved her. What was protocol? Should she make small talk? Or did the workers talk enough to bubbly brides that the quiet ride on the elevator secured their sanity.

  The door dinged open. Allison followed the woman in the white uniform to a dressing room. She hesitantly stepped inside remembering what happened the last time she’d emerged from one.

  She scanned the yellowing white walls of the eight-foot by eight-foot box. A garment bag hung from a hook beside a full-length mirror. Her fingers fumbled with the zipper as she silently prayed for the right dress to be inside. She slid open the bag and sighed with relief. Allison undressed quickly and slid the silky blue material on.

  “Hun, you need some help with that zipper?” A woman’s voice called from behind the curtain.

  “Wow. You have great timing.” Allison backed out to the woman, with her hands clutching the front of the dress to her chest.

  Once the zipper secured the dress around her, Allison relaxed and loosened her hold. The dress stayed put. Wonderful.

  “Come out to the larger mirror to make sure it looks okay. You can’t see much in the dressing rooms.”

  The woman in white placed a hand at Allison’s back, guiding her to the waiting room. She scanned the area for a mirror, not paying attention to others milling around.

  She stepped up in front of the mirror, turning from side to side, making sure everything looked right. Scattered navy beads lined the fitted bodice while a chiffon skirt flowed to an inch above her knees. She didn’t hate the dress. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever wear it again but she didn’t hate it.

  Allison rose up on her toes pretending she wore heels.

  “You look really nice,” a familiar deep voice said.

  Strong arms caught her as she fell from spinning around to find Ryan.

  “What are you doing here?” She looked up into his familiar brown eyes.

  Ryan held her gaze, keeping a close hold on her body. Allison smelled his familiar musk from the night before. She resisted closing her eyes to nuzzle closer.

  His hands squeezed her arms before pushing her upright.

  “I was next door picking up my tuxedo when I saw you. I thought since I was right here, I’d stop in. Plus, it couldn’t hurt to make sure you got the right dress.”

  “Ha, ha.”

  Allison faced the mirror. She ran a hand down the length of the dress flattening out any upturned hems. “Thanks.”

  He tipped an imaginary hat and smiled. “Now, hurry up, change and let’s grab a bite.”

  “Okay.”

  Electric energy zapped along her skin trying to force her to run back to her dressing room. She planted a smile on her face and walked with her hands clenched at her back. She flung the curtain closed and tore the dress from her body. She threw it back on the hanger and without snagging any material zipped the black bag closed.

  Breathe. It was lunch with an old friend. If someone saw them, there’d be nothing nefarious to tell her fiancé.

  Minutes later, she emerged with the dress safely secured in the bag with a tamed down smile on her face. “Ready?”

  Allison followed Ryan in her Accord. He offered to drive but she wanted to avoid a return trip into the city. She also wanted to prevent being in an enclosed space with the man. Besides his smile, his cologne did funny things to her train of thought.

  A short shot down Highway 44, Allison and Ryan found parking spots less than a block away from the small coffee house located on a corner in South St. Louis. She hadn’t visited the caffeine haven in over a year. The wonderful aroma of roasted beans blasted her senses as she passed by Ryan holding open the door for her. The long counter offered multi colored bar stools while table seating took up two floors. Ryan placed his hand at her back and ushered her to the counter. They each placed an order for sandwiches and lattes.

  With drinks in hand, the two found a quiet spot on the second floor by a window overlooking the park across the street. Trees dipped in red, yellow, orange and fading green scattered throughout the par
k covering up the browning grass beneath. Joggers and walkers made their way beneath the canopy of colors along black paved paths. Between the shedding branches, the red and white top of a pavilion dating back to the World’s Fair in 1904 peeked out inviting people in for a mid-fall picnic.

  The two eased into black chairs. Ryan placed a vase of flowers on the table, indicating to the staff where to deliver their chicken salad sandwich order.

  “I haven’t been here in a while,” Allison said, peering out the window.

  “Once they did the remodel, it hasn’t changed much. In fact, I think most of the staff is the same.”

  “You know, I was thinking the blonde girl at the counter looked familiar. Well, I’m glad it’s still here.”

  “Me, too. I come here maybe once every two weeks for lunch. Or I try to hit it in the morning for coffee.”

  “Really. Where do you work?”

  “My office is over in the Central West End, down off of Kingshighway Boulevard. I just shoot down the highway from my house, hit here, then down Grand and cut across.”

  “I either take the bus or grab a cab. Must be nice to drive to work.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “What exactly do you do?”

  “Sports marketing.”

  “Oh, you studied marketing in college?” She’d no idea they went to school for the same career. She assumed Lynette knew as much. One more detail Allison discovered while at home.

  “Yeah. Adam said you do some type of marketing in Chicago.” Ryan brought his white wide mouthed mug to his lips.

  When he sat the cup down, he wrapped his hands around the perimeter.

  “The company I work for does event marketing but I don’t do all the traveling to sites. I’m more of in-house support and coordination.” Allison offered.

  “Do you like it?” His question was a simple one but for Allison, it became a tough one to answer. Instead of hiding what she wanted to tell her mother or her brother, her guard weakened for Ryan.

  “Yes and no. And if you tell Adam about this, I’ll hunt you down and kill you.”