Oughta Be a Movie: a Sugar-&-Spice romantic comedy

by Susan Hammond

  “And what’s in this bet for you?”

  “Oh, I win either way. I hate hearing you say those things about yourself. So it’s a win for me if you stop. And if you don’t?” He shrugged and smirked. “I get to turn you over my knee.”

  Her quick, sharp breath echoed in the room. “I’m not going to bet you.”

  He made an unconvincing clucking sound, but she understood his taunt.

  Too many emotions to count flashed in her eyes, but yanking the door open, she tossed one word over her shoulder, “Fine.” Then she was marching off down the hall.

  He grabbed his jacket off the chair, putting it on as he followed her. When he caught up with her at the elevator, she was punching the down call button again and again until the doors opened. He stepped into the elevator behind her. “We should seal this deal.”

  Ali rolled her eyes, but she offered her hand to shake his. When the doors closed, he reached for the control panel. But instead of hitting the button for the lobby, he pulled out the stop button. “We can do better than a handshake.” He took the wrist of her waiting hand and tugged her to him. Before she could react, he was sliding his hands from her waist to the sides of her breasts, pulling her closer as he lowered his mouth to hers. He’d only meant for it to be a tease, a gentle brush, but when her lips parted on a soft gasp, he wanted more. Much more.

  His lips moved over hers, firm then hard as his tongue slipped inside. Exploring her warmth, stroking, feeling her respond, giving him everything he demanded. He pulled her arms over his shoulders. One hand at the side of her neck held her in place while the other moved to her back, then dipped below her waist, pressing her to him. Hardness to softness. Ben raised his head just enough to change the angle of the kiss, go deeper, and a tiny whimper in the back of her throat called him back. Her hands were in his hair now, fisting, tugging him closer.

  He moved his hand from her neck to the side of her breast, caressing, seducing, as he kissed along her neck where his hand had been seconds before, down to the curve of her shoulder. He slid the hand holding her to him over her ass and down the back of her thigh, lifting it. He wanted her right now. Right here. In the damn elevator.

  The blaring alarm broke through the sounds of their heavy breathing and the sensual haze that filled the small space. How long had they been standing there making out? Without taking his eyes from hers, he reached over and pushed in the Stop button. The elevator lurched and started to move.

  He eased her leg down. Made sure she was steady on her feet. That was a joke. He wasn’t steady himself, but he stepped back. The door would be opening in seconds. God, she was beautiful. Flushed, tendrils of hair loose and curling along her neck, her lips swollen, eyes wide and dark, her perfect breasts heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

  This was no game. And it wasn’t pretend. However tonight turned out, he knew he’d remember this moment—this kiss, the way she looked right now—for the rest of his life.

  Chapter 5

  Voices floated in from the lobby as the elevator doors slid open, but she stood mesmerized. Ben was looking at her like…like what? Like he’d meant that kiss. God, that kiss. She gave her head a shake as if that could stop the mortifying memory of practically climbing his hard body. Why couldn’t she remember this was just pretend? Maybe because her body was telling her it was pretty damn real.

  Ben reached for her wrist and tugged her across the marble lobby floor to the ballroom. The rest of the wedding party stood around the table where they’d eatem earlier, talking, relaxing, probably waiting on them to get back.

  The moment they arrived at the table, Bree did a double-take. Then she asked in her big courtroom voice, “Ali, are you okay? You’re flushed.” She studied her before adding, “And out of breath.” Conversation stopped and everyone turned to see what was going on.

  Gee, thanks, Bree.

  Ben was close behind her, and it gave her some satisfaction to know what he was hiding. Now who’s the chicken? But he used his story spinning skills to cover for her and sounded almost convincing except for having to clear his throat twice before he explained, “We were rushing. Need to keep this party moving, so we can get to the next one.”

  Mostly, the group went back to their conversations but Ben stepped closer and put his hand on her hip when Chase slowly assessed her from head-to-toe. Looking over her shoulder at Ben, Chase gave him a wry, half smile and a quick lift of his chin. He might as well have reached over with a high five and shouted out, “Good job, man.”

  Guys. Jeez. And these guys were over thirty!

  Bree started giving out her wrap-this-up instructions to the wedding party. And when Josh signaled Ben, he whispered, “Be right back.”

  That left only two of them still standing there, and Josh was watching her with a concerned expression. “You’re really okay?”

  “Of course. I’m fine,” she managed to say in her sassy little sister voice.

  He appeared to change the subject, but she had a feeling he hadn’t. “It’s good to have Ben here.”

  “Yeah, it is. But you knew he wouldn’t miss it.”

  “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.”

  There was a message beyond his words that she couldn’t read. “It has. It’s great to see him again.”

  “He’s…he’s still a good guy, but he lives in a different world now. Just…”

  That was odd. Really odd. But she was saved from having to answer because at that moment Bree walked up and joined them. “Ready for the grand finale?”

  Josh was still watching Ali, but he nodded. “As soon as Ben gets back.”

  Then Ben was back, and Josh signaled the orchestra leader who called for all the married couples to come to the dance floor for the “anniversary dance.” When Josh reached for Bree’s hand, she looked at him curiously. “He called for all the married couples. We are one.”

  Bree laughed. “This is going to take some getting used to.”

  Shaking his head, Josh led her to the dance floor, but only half a minute into the dance, the announcer asked couples married less than twenty-four hours to move to the sidelines. Everyone laughed as Josh and Bree departed. After that, he dismissed the couples by how long they’d been married—two years, five, ten, twenty-five. When he jumped from thirty-five to forty-nine, Bree’s grandparents had the dance floor all to themselves, and the guests broke out into applause at the announcement of their fiftieth anniversary next month. Bree went back out on the dance floor to hug her grandmother and give her the wedding bouquet.

  Tears stung as Ali tried to imagine Josh and Bree at their own granddaughter’s wedding. But she couldn’t even fathom a journey—a partnership—of fifty years.

  Then the orchestra leader was calling for all the single people to come out on the floor and gather around the bandstand. Ali followed Bree to help with the wedding dress as she and Josh made their way up the steps to the small stage. “We’re going to find out right now who the next folks are to start down that long and twisty path—I mean winding road—to a fiftieth anniversary. But first, our groom has a few words.”

  Josh took the microphone, keeping a hand at Bree’s waist. “First, we want to thank all of you for being here, sharing this day with us. It was just over two years ago—” Bree looked at him curiously, apparently he was going off script.

  “Just over two years ago, that I was heading into a pretrial conference with a complainant and his attorney. And feeling PRET-ty cocky.” A few people laughed. “I know. Right? You’d never expect that from me.” This got a much bigger laugh. “The case was so easy I could phone it in. In fact, the complainant’s firm had pulled the senior associate assigned to the case and was sending a replacement. Even they knew they didn’t have a chance in hell. Heck. I meant heck. Sorry, Mom, Grandma.” More laughs.

  “Then I stepped into that conference room and did it get any sweeter than this? Sitting across the table was the bossy little brat I’d practically grown up with—and barely a year o
ut of law school. Now I really knew this was a cake walk.” Bree elbowed him, and he pulled her closer and kissed her forehead.

  “Two things happened that afternoon. I had my ass handed to me on a platter.” He cut a glance over to where his mom was seated and shrugged. “That’s the only way to put it. Apparently Bree hadn’t gotten the memo that her case was hopeless. But the really important thing was that I decided—I mean I knew—that when the ink was drying on the settlement agreement, and there was going to be a settlement…She. Was. Mine.”

  Bree’s bottom lip was trembling, and she was trying not to cry. Tears were streaming down Ali’s face now as she watched Josh gently caress Bree’s neck and kiss her so sweetly. This was the way it was supposed to be. And if you don’t have the real thing, no substitute in the world will ever be right.

  Josh was speaking again. “Best decision of my life. So thank you again for celebrating with us today. We’re gonna pay it forward.” He reached over for the garter and small tossing bouquet, holding them up. “And if you invite us, we’ll be there to dance at your wedding.”

  Bree motioned with her head for Ali to move out onto the floor with the other singles, but Ali shook her head. Then the bride and groom turned their backs to the crowd. Bree threw the flowers first and a lawyer from Josh’s firm grabbed them and handed them to his fiancée. Then Josh launched the garter high in the air. Ali lifted to her tiptoes to see who would catch it just as Ben reached out his long arm and snagged the blue lace.

  The orchestra leader took the microphone. “Now if you two holding the bouquet and garter will find a partner and join the bride and groom to start off the last dance.”

  Ben turned in her direction, placed the garter on one finger and pulled it back with his other like a sling shot aimed straight at her. He took one step in her direction but a woman he and Josh had gone to school with stopped him. Cyndy something. Ali couldn’t remember her last name. She’d been popular and had always chased after the hot new thing when she wasn’t chasing Josh. Her hand was on Ben’s arm, then her open palm moved to his chest. He was smiling at something she said, then shrugged slightly. Ali held her breath as the woman slid her hand to his shoulder as if he’d agreed to dance with her.

  Closing her eyes she could almost hear herself yelling “Pick me!” How pathetic was that? Like some high school girl hoping the cute guy she was crushing on would invite her to the prom.

  “Making a wish?” Ben was standing right in front of her. Oops. Thank goodness he didn’t read minds. His arm was sliding around her waist as he asked, “Dance with me?”

  “Sure, but you had a…another offer.”

  “Good thing you didn’t say ‘better offer.’”

  Her blush probably gave away that those were the exact words she’d almost said. “But I didn’t.”

  “No, you didn’t. And nothing Cyn Crawley has to offer would be better.”

  “Sin?”

  He laughed. “C-y-n, not s-i-n. She was Cyndy in high school, Cynthia for a while after college, and now apparently it’s Cyn. I doubt that the homonym is an accident.”

  “You’ve kept up with her?”

  She could’ve counted out the beats of his hesitation. “Not for a long time.”

  As everyone was invited onto the dance floor to finish the last dance, Ben maneuvered them over near the lobby doors. Minutes later Josh and Bree were leaving in a shower of lavender blossoms. Ben held the elevator doors open, and Bree was waving goodbye when Josh picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. Her shrieks and the guests’ delighted cheers blended together as Ben let the doors close. And Ali’s eyes were burning again.

  “Hey.” Ben stepped in front of her and tilted her chin up. “You’re crying.”

  “Not quite. And you’re supposed to pretend you didn’t notice.”

  “Not much about you I don’t notice, Ali-Cat. What’s wrong?”

  “Not wrong. Just happy for them. This has been Bree’s fairy tale as long as I can remember. When we were little girls, her favorite game was Bride. Our mothers gave us their fancy old clothes to dress up in.”

  “You think Bree’s happy with the way it’s gone?”

  “Ecstatic. She’ll give Josh grief about the undignified exit, but knowing Bree, she loved it.”

  He brushed a tear off her cheek. “Were you ever the bride in this game you played?”

  “Oh yeah.” She laughed. “But Bree didn’t always approve of my wedding plans.”

  “You didn’t want all this?” He gestured to the guests still mingling in the lobby. “Not your dream?”

  Her dream? A groom that looked at her the way Josh looked at Bree. “I guess most little girls dream about being princess-for-a-day, but…”

  “But?”

  She scrunched up her nose. “When I was little, there was this story on TV, probably the local news, about a couple who…it’s silly.”

  “Tell me.”

  Her face heated. I’m such a dork. Why couldn’t she be as sophisticated as Pippa or C-y-n?

  “Ali?”

  He wouldn’t let this go. “They got married at the zoo, and I thought it sounded fun.”

  He chuckled. “I can see how that might not have fit Bree’s script.”

  “I told you it was silly.”

  “It’s a good dream. And it’s got cool animals in it and some pretty great people, too.”

  That was a strange remark. “Seeing what went into this wedding, right at this moment an Elvis chapel in Vegas sounds—wait. That was a quote.”

  With a half smile, Ben just nodded.

  “Cool animals. Cool animals, great people, good dream…oh, shoot.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Better come up with it. You’ve already got a big forfeit to pay tonight. You don’t want to be adding on.”

  Butterflies went into free fall in her belly at his reference to their bet. “You’re trying to distract me.”

  “No. But I’m liking the fact that it does.”

  The butterflies gathered into formation and signaled her girl parts. “Ben! And I’m not losing that bet. Cool animals, great people, a dream. Animals. A shelter? A safari? A zoo—I know! We Bought a Zoo! Matt Damon as, as, as…Dylan!

  “Right movie, right actor, wrong character. Ten seconds.”

  “Uh, uh, Duncan!”

  He shook his head.

  “Oh, what was that guy’s name? He was the dad, right?” Ben nodded. She closed her eyes to think because his smirk was distracting. As Ben made a buzzing sound, she blurted out, “It’s Benjamin.”

  “In the nick of time. And so you know, one of the screenwriters was Ali McKenna.”

  “Really?”

  “Actually Aline McKenna, but close enough.” He crooked his elbow around her neck. “You couldn’t remember ‘Benjamin’? I’ll try not to take that personally.”

  “I was under pressure.”

  He pulled her closer and in a growly voice whispered, “Good. I like you that way.”

  Holy hotness. The butterflies roared on take-off.

  Chapter 6

  “I need flowers and condoms.”

  The older lady behind the counter blinked at him a couple of times, but her customer-service smile never wavered. “We have a few floral arrangements.” She pointed to the cold case. “Only because it’s Valentine’s Day. We don’t usually carry flowers in the hotel, but I can help you arrange a delivery for tomorrow.”

  The sad assortment shared space with root beer, turkey sandwiches, and strawberry yogurt. A teddy bear container with pink and red carnations, some kind of misshapen gold vase with one scary-looking purple flower, a red crystal stiletto with black roses. Black? “Any possibility of getting someone to deliver tonight?”

  The woman glanced at her watch with a hint of disapproval sneaking into her set smile. “Most Valentine’s deliveries were arranged in advance. The florists may still be working, but not one will take a call this late.”

  He looked around the gift shop. “You do carry
condoms?”

  “Certainly.” She reached to her left and set a tray on the counter. Three-packs, six-packs, a box of twenty-four, tubes of lube. He reached for a six-pack but grabbed the box of twenty-four instead and handed it to her, pretty sure she muttered “Good luck with that” as she was ringing up his purchase. But by the time he got to the door, she must have decided to take pity on him. Or maybe she was standing in solidarity with women everywhere, hoping to save at least one sister from a Valentine’s date that arrived with a box of condoms and no gift.

  “Sir? The boutique two doors down is staying open later tonight. To your left as you step outside. They won’t have flowers, but you might find something there.”

  The shop was closing in twenty minutes, but it didn’t take long to reject a red silk scarf—too friend-zone. Except. An image of Ali’s wrists tied to his bedpost, the ends of the scarf brushing her… Don’t go there. A table to his left held an assortment of Valentine’s gifts. He picked up a miniscule triangle of black lace with trails of red satin ribbons. Supposedly panties. At least he wouldn’t need to worry about getting the size right. He rubbed the lace between his fingers then reluctantly put them down. This was the romancing part, not the slutty sex part.

  The sales clerk let him browse, probably watching the clock wind down to closing time. She suggested he check out the jewelry case, assuring him that a diamond pendant was always a good idea. They were nice. To hell with nice. Now that he’d scratched the flowers idea, he wanted something especially for Ali.

  The sales clerk pointed out a gold filigree heart and told him it was a classic Valentine’s gift. He didn’t want classic. He wanted unexpected. Then he spotted the tiny zebra charm. Silver with gold stripes. Bingo. That was Ali. The clerk stifled her skeptical surprise and found a simple silver chain, slipped the charm on it, and placed the necklace in a small velvet pouch. He was out the door with two minutes to spare.

  The crowd in the hotel lobby had thinned out, but ten or so wedding guests were still milling around near the elevator. He took the stairs, not wanting to wait or to have a conversation about either of the paper bags he was carrying. He’d told Ali he’d knock for her in forty-five minutes, which gave him fourteen minutes to shed his tux and put on jeans and a black t-shirt.