by Jayci Lee
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To Lulu: it all began with you.
CHAPTER ONE
The wedding was picture-perfect. The spring garden outside the groom’s restaurant overlooked the Kern River, and was drenched with the soft hues of sunset. Just being there made Tara Park sigh dreamily. She couldn’t imagine a more romantic venue. Celebrity chef Aria Santini, the couple’s close friend, had prepared the locally sourced gourmet dinner. It was exquisitely presented, and tasted even more delicious than it looked. Add to that the abundantly flowing California wines. The reception rocked the night.
Tara scanned the warm, happy scene from a quiet corner in the bustling garden and smiled, briefly ignoring the distraction that marred the glorious evening. Aubrey and Landon—the bride and groom—existed only for each other, every look and whispered word a declaration of their love. The guests chatted and laughed, basking in the happily-ever-after glow of the beautiful couple.
Myriad contradicting emotions threatened to overwhelm Tara. She scattered them with a resolute shake of her head, reminding herself that Aubrey would always be her best friend. But it was more than that. Stop it, Tara. You have no time to sulk. It was time to deal with the gorgeous man who’d been staring at her all night. His undivided attention made her want to fidget or maybe preen a little. She couldn’t decide which. Either way, ignoring him had taken some major willpower.
Well, her dear friend’s new brother-in-law or not, enough was enough. She’d been irritatingly aware of his whereabouts the entire evening, so it wasn’t difficult to locate him now. Seth Kim stood by a bar on the other side of the garden, sipping from a clear glass beaded with condensation. He looked enticingly elegant in his classic tuxedo, and her eyes eagerly perused his body until she caught herself. Cut it out. She hiked up her floor-length dress, marched over, and stopped in front of him. It was time to put the best man in his place.
“You need to stop staring at my ass,” she said with her fists planted on her hips.
He smiled and turned to face her squarely, sliding a hand into his pants pocket. “On the contrary, I was studying all of you. Not just your stunning backside.”
“Studying me?” Did he say stunning? Huh. She was tempted to swivel her head for a peek at her ass.
“I’m a photographer. It’s hard for me to ignore things of beauty,” he said smoothly, his dark eyes holding her gaze. An involuntary trill shot down her spine.
“Oh, please.” Tara snorted, masking her reaction to him. If she angled her head to her best side, it wasn’t for his benefit.
Besides, it had to be a practiced line, coming from a player like him. Seth Kim wasn’t just any photographer, but a sought-after fashion photographer. Gossip sites loved to post pictures of him with an ever-changing parade of gorgeous models on his arm. Of course, one shouldn’t believe everything on the Internet. But even if just a small percentage of the gossip had a grain of truth in it, his playboy status still held firm.
“You don’t think you’re beautiful?” He arched an eyebrow with mastery that almost matched her own.
“No one actually looks at themselves in the mirror and thinks, ‘Wow. I’m beautiful.’” Geez. Why do I always do that? I am beautiful, dammit. Inside and out. She needed practice owning it.
“Is that a no?” The surprise on his face morphed into a sultry, hooded glance that traveled her body. “Because I’m prepared to convince you otherwise.”
Her heart tripped on a beat and tangled itself up. Gah. Her body begged for a detailed demonstration of how he planned to convince her of her beauty, but she couldn’t let her libido distract her from her mission.
“Look, I know I clean up nicely.” There. She owned it. Sort of. “And this dress doesn’t exactly hurt me in the looks department.”
It was true. The crimson mermaid dress hugged her curves like a long-lost lover and made her boobs look like full, round globes of glorious flesh. As though reading her thoughts, Seth’s eyes dropped to her chest.
“But you’ve had enough anatomy lessons for tonight,” she said, waving her hand in front of his face. “Quit ogling my breasts.”
“For the record, I wasn’t ogling you.” His eyes flew back to her face, and she was gratified to see a little color suffuse his cheeks. “I was gawking at you.”
“And the difference is?” She crossed her arms in an impatient gesture, and waited for more playboy bullshit from him.
“Ogling requires lewd intent, which I definitely did not have. Gawking is more like staring at something in a trance because they can’t help it.” He paused to give her a lazy half smile, which probably gave countless women pudding knees. “If I was gawking, it’s because I find you captivating.”
What. The. Dickens? The way his voice dipped low and turned rumbly on “captivating” was … yowza. Tara willed her pulse to slow the hell down. He was a player, all right. Quite an accomplished one. Regency-rake level accomplished. She needed a damn fan to flutter on her face.
“Will it help if I hide my captivating self behind some shrubs over there?” She narrowed her eyes to hide his effect on her.
“That’ll be tragic.” He chuckled, his face transforming with boyish charm, and it was her turn to gawk at him. Come on. Be honest. You’re ogling him. “You’re the only thing helping me get through this wedding.”
“This is your brother’s wedding. You’re his best man.” She stopped ogling and switched to glaring. “Do you seriously need to drool over my body for hours on end to ‘get through’ it?”
“Yes,” he said, using his smoldering voice again.
Shit. She was disconcerted and majorly turned on at the same time, her cheeks pulsing with heat.
“Look at them.” She threw an arm out toward the newlyweds, and missed a server by a nose. Tara nodded her apology then pinched a bacon-wrapped date off the platter. “They’re deliriously in love. Aren’t you even a little happy for them?”
“Who said I wasn’t happy for them?” He drew his head back in surprise. “Landon’s a lucky bastard for landing someone like Aubrey.”
“Then why are you moping around like a wet blanket, soaking up the open bar?” Her mouth was full of the delicious hors d’oeuvre—the date was stuffed with blue cheese—but she managed to put some disdain into her question.
“I don’t like weddings,” he said, a dark shadow flitting across his face. There was a finality to his words that glued her lips together.
Tara peeked at him from under her lashes, wondering what his story was. A broken heart? Warning bells rang in her head, telling her to run like the wind in the opposite direction of the man. She was in no position to fix him … she had enough baggage of her own. One nightmarish relationship had been enough for her to swear off any emotional entanglements. Still, she was helplessly drawn to him.
Seth Kim was devastatingly handsome, and any woman who didn’t tingle in their undies when near him was a dead one. He wasn’t built like a tank but had a sinewy, well-proport
ioned body, radiating with restless energy. With light-brown skin, dark hair, and eyes the color of black coffee, he screamed beast-in-the-sheets. But it wasn’t only his looks that caught her attention. The flash of vulnerability he revealed tugged at her heart and wobbled her iron self-control.
If she didn’t rein in her hormones and empathy and all that, she was going to end up naked tonight. She refused to jump into bed with a virtual stranger—no matter how attractive he was—with her feelings in a jumble over her best friend’s wedding.
Watching Aubrey marry Landon, her true love, reminded Tara that she’d chosen to keep her heart safe rather than to seek her own happily ever after. She’d never regretted her decision before, nor was she questioning it now, but a deep hollowness settled inside her.
“Fine. Stare, if you must. You won’t be difficult to ignore,” she said haughtily even though it was a blatant lie. “But understand one thing. There will be no hookup between the best man and the maid of honor at this wedding. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” he said without a hint of mockery.
Tara spun on her heels, whipping her long hair over her shoulder. Shit. The hair whip? It must’ve been an accident. She wouldn’t flirt with a man she was trying not to sleep with. And she definitely was not sashaying her hips for his benefit. Walking like a lingerie model was second nature to her. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
It took all her willpower not to glance over her shoulder to see if Seth was watching her. She couldn’t decide whether she was hoping to find his eyes on her or off her. She swore under her breath. Hadn’t she just confronted the man so he would stop staring at her?
Resisting her attraction to Seth Kim must’ve thoroughly sapped her strength. She suddenly felt light-headed and out of breath. She needed to either take the damn dress off—she ate way too much to be contained in a corset-tight dress—or maybe throw up a little. Both scenarios required privacy, so she made like a penguin and waddled to the bathroom as fast as she could, shoving the door open with her shoulder.
“Ahhh!” Tara and Aubrey screamed in unison.
“Holy roadkill.” She’d nearly bulldozed her best friend and bride onto the monochromatic tiles of the ladies’ bathroom. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” Aubrey lowered the arms she’d flung out in front of her and trained her eyes on Tara. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” She eased herself into the restroom, making sure her friend was a safe distance away, and closed the door behind her.
“Purple isn’t your color.”
“What? I can rock purple just fine. Besides, this dress is a deep red.”
“I know, but your face is purple and you aren’t rocking it, babe.”
Tara caught her reflection in the mirror and snorted. “You’re right. I can’t breathe in this damn thing.”
“God, me neither.” Aubrey walked behind Tara and unzipped her partway, and Tara returned the favor. Lusty sighs echoed on the bathroom tiles. “Let’s just hide in here for five minutes.”
“Are you sure Landon won’t come charging in here to claim his bride?” Tara quirked an eyebrow at her.
Her friend rolled her eyes, but a rosy blush blossomed on her cheeks. She looked so beautiful Tara’s breath hitched. She was so happy for Aubrey. The ache in her heart meant nothing.
“He’s putting Morgan to sleep, and he’ll use that as an excuse to hold her for way too long. Our baby girl is barely a hundred days old, but she has her old man wrapped around her teeny tiny pinky.” Aubrey wiggled her pinky with a dreamy smile. “I’m safe from any charging husbands for now. But seriously. What’s going on?”
Tara had thought she’d dodged the question. Damn. Aubrey wasn’t going to settle for another evasive maneuver. “I’m sorry, but your brother-in-law’s an ass.”
“Seth?”
“Does Landon have another obnoxious younger brother?”
“What did he do? It can’t be that bad. He’s so sweet.”
“So sweet he’s been gawking at me for the last two hours?” She adopted his more benign word for ogling for no particular reason.
“Is that all?” Aubrey crinkled her nose. “All the single men, as well as some married ones, have been doing the same thing. Men stare at you all the time. Aren’t you used to it by now?”
“They do not.”
“You just never notice.” A sly grin spread across her face. “So why would you notice Seth’s attention?”
Curse you, hyperintuitive, recently married woman.
“I have to pee. See you outside, Mrs. Kim.” Tara spun Aubrey around, zipped her back up, and pushed her toward the door. She had no desire to find out where the conversation would lead.
“Seth is a really good guy. You should talk to him. Just tell him to quit doing whatever it is that’s bugging you.” Aubrey ignored Tara’s not-so-subtle shoving to help zip up her dress, and pecked her on the cheek. Only then did her best friend turn to leave. “You know where to find me if you need me.”
When the door closed behind Aubrey, Tara sagged against the sink. The good thing was she didn’t feel light-headed anymore. The bad thing was she didn’t know what it was about Seth that annoyed her so much. There was no harm in some light flirting. So why did it bother her in this case? Maybe it was because of her heart-stuttering reaction to him … No. Her heart was not to be trusted. Ever. She blinked rapidly and pulled herself back from the darkness she was tiptoeing around. None of that tonight.
Where the hell was she going with this anyway? All she knew was that she was very bothered. And hot. She just needed to have a firm word with herself. There will be no hookup between the maid of honor and the best man tonight. There.
Tara liked men. She enjoyed sex with men. But she kept her love life completely separate from the rest of her life. The men in her life have never, ever crossed paths with her family. Serious relationships went against the very fiber of her being. There was no point in having her family meet men she had no intention of keeping. It would make her life unnecessarily complicated and messy. And she was so done with complicated and messy.
She liked things light and simple. Like with her traveling lover, Roger Stephens. He used to be Weldon High’s revered quarterback. He was a couple years ahead of Tara, and she’d had a giant crush on him. Then his family moved out of town, and she was heartbroken. Young, unrequited love. But until college, all she knew was love of the unrequited sort.
When he returned for a short stay at Weldon as a salesperson for a pharmaceutical company, he came into the brewery and they hit it off. He’d never noticed her in high school as a lowly freshman, but he seemed to appreciate the woman she’d become. Since then, they would get together a few times a year whenever he was in town. She liked and respected Roger and enjoyed their convenient, no strings attached arrangement. Even after three years, no one, other than Aubrey, knew of their dalliance, and that was how it was going to stay.
But with Seth, he’d already met everyone. Her parents, her older brothers, and of course Aubrey. And Tara had met his mom and Landon. Everyone knew everyone. It was much too cozy. It would be risky to get involved with him. It could bring her love life crashing into her real life, causing dimensional imbalance. It might mean the annihilation of her deliberately compartmentalized life, and create complete and utter chaos.
Was she being overly dramatic? Yes.
Did she want to risk annihilation and chaos? No, thank you.
* * *
Seth watched Tara walk away and disappear into the restaurant with hurried steps. Maybe she’d decided to hide from him after all. He chuckled under his breath. Had he really been that obvious? His playboy persona was usually much smoother than that. But maybe his persona had nothing to do with his interest in Tara. Maybe it was the real him. Ridiculous. He’d cultivated his playboy persona so the real him would never come into the picture. That was what he decided when he locked his broken heart away.
But Tara was a stunni
ng woman, graceful and strong, and she captivated him beyond the physical. The hint of vulnerability she hid behind her prickly exterior called to him. It was as though something inside him recognized her as a kindred spirit. His chest constricted at the alarming thought. He gulped down the rest of his club soda and walked away from the bar. He wasn’t on the market for a kindred spirit.
He followed the throng of guests migrating indoors and settled beside another bar near one end of the room. It gave him the best view in the house, so he could watch the wedding festivities from afar. People fascinated Seth. When he photographed his clients, he chatted with them throughout the shoot, not only to help them relax but also because learning about them allowed him to breathe life into their pictures. Everyone had their little flaws to make them perfectly imperfect. Thus, beautiful.
He spotted Tara almost immediately, laughing with a group of women, and willed himself to look away. But as champagne flowed and laughter imbued the air inside the dimly lit restaurant, her eyes met his and flitted away with increasing frequency.
This was a lighthearted, carefree wedding reception, where everyone was hell-bent on having a good time. There was no reason to overanalyze his feelings. He should just go and ask the beautiful woman to dance with him. Simple.
“Tara.” He tapped lightly on her shoulder. She’d declared herself off-limits, and he intended to respect that, but one dance was far from a hookup.
When she turned toward him, her gaze remained suspicious. “Seth.”
“If I stop being an asshole, will you dance with me?”
“Oh, is there an asshole switch you can turn on and off? I thought it was congenital.”
“Okay. I deserved that.” Seth laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I didn’t realize my gawking was so obvious. You caught me off guard, and I covered my embarrassment with some defensive cockiness. I’m truly sorry.”
“I accept your apology.” A soft blush washed across her cheeks, but her expression remained resolute. “But still no hookup. Is that clear?”