The Best Man Problem (Mile High Happiness)

by Mariah Ankenman

  He slowed their movement until they were simply swaying in place at the back edge of the dance floor. The instructor was occupied with the other couples, having given up on them a while ago. Marie was still talking to Rachel, and Kenneth hadn’t returned from his phone call to his mother. Everyone was focused on themselves, but all his focus zeroed in on the fascinating, confounding woman in his arms.

  “You’re coming up with reasons we shouldn’t be together.”

  “I’m not coming up with them,” she huffed. “I’m simply acknowledging them and keeping track.”

  “Because…”

  She stared at him like he was the slowest man on the planet. “Because people who don’t work out on paper rarely work out in the long term.”

  What the hell kind of backward thinking was that?

  “And you know this from your years of wedding planning?”

  Her jaw tightened. “I know this from life.”

  All right. There was a backstory there, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath for it. Getting this woman to open up was like solving the P versus NP problem.

  “Then chemistry means nothing?” He didn’t want to push too hard, because he knew she’d walk away, but he did want to know what made this woman tick. Why she hid behind this wall of control.

  “Chemistry is simply a case of lust that makes people lose sight of the big picture. It’s a momentary distraction that blinds people to the long term.”

  Pretty cynical view, but he didn’t think she’d appreciate him pointing that out.

  “Let me get this straight—you’re saying because I like camping and you like skiing, we shouldn’t explore this thing we got going?” Never before had he been so on edge waiting for the answer to a question.

  Lilly shook her head, dark hair cascading around her shoulders with the movement. He remembered that hair, how soft it felt slipping through his fingers. The way it tickled his jaw, tiny filaments sticking in his scruff as her mouth devoured his. Momentary distraction, his ass. It was weeks later, and he was still thinking about it.

  “That, among other issues. We might work for a night or two in bed.”

  Yeah. They’d already proven that fact.

  “But beyond that, I’m afraid we’re incompatible.”

  He’d get to the other issues later—for now, he wanted to remind her of the ways in which they were very much compatible. Tugging her closer, he brushed his lips up the side of her jaw, grazing a barely-there kiss just under her ear as he whispered, “Not completely incompatible.”

  He felt her shiver in his arms, her nipples tightening against the thin material of her dress, pressing into his chest through the silky shirt he wore. Her breath came out in rapid, tiny pants. A sound he remembered fondly from their night together. Ecstatic at the fact that she was just as affected as he was—no matter her valiant attempts to deny what was between them—he grinned.

  “After all, we both like pinball.”

  A laugh escaped her lips, and she nudged him with her shoulder. “Jerk.” But the word held no anger.

  He pulled back to stare into her face again. She was smiling now, but there was a twinge of sadness to the expression.

  “You kick ass at pinball, fixed my computer in ten minutes, dance like a dream, and make me laugh.” She sighed. “Can you please just have one flaw I can pinpoint to keep myself in check?”

  He shrugged, in no way wanting to help her with this particular dilemma. “I snore?”

  “No, you don’t.”

  He grinned at catching her acknowledging their night together.

  “I like eating cookies in bed.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Gross. Food belongs in the kitchen, not the bedroom. You’d get crumbs everywhere.”

  “Not if you have a dog in bed to clean them up.”

  “Double gross. Pets do not belong in bed. And anyway, I prefer cats.”

  Dang, that little factoid was probably going on her ridiculous list, too.

  “Okay, class, that ends our time together tonight,” the instructor called.

  The music shut off, and all the couples on the dance floor stopped moving. Though he hated to do it, Lincoln stopped as well. The moment Lilly stepped out of his arms, they felt empty without her warmth, and he had no idea what to do with that.

  “Well, um, thank you for letting me crush your feet.”

  He wiggled his toes in his shoes. “Not a broken bone among them.” She smiled, and even though he knew the answer, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Need a ride home?”

  Her teeth came out to worry her bottom lip. A move that hardened his body. Everywhere.

  He wanted nothing more than to reach over and free that poor lip, soothe her tiny teeth marks with his tongue, and kiss her until she forgot all about wedding clients and lists and matching on paper. Until the only thing she remembered was how explosive they were together. How right it felt.

  “I think…” She took a deep breath, exhaling with a shake of her head. “I think that would be a very bad idea.”

  He shrugged. “Bad ideas can have great results.”

  Her lips curled up in a wry smile. “I’m parked in the lot downstairs. They tow if you leave a car overnight. Better not risk it.”

  “Ouch.” He placed a hand to his chest in mock pain. “I’m not good enough to risk a tow fee. Seems I need to work on my bedroom skills.”

  She rolled her eyes, the smile growing wider. “Good night, Lincoln. Thank you for the dance.”

  “Night, Lilly. The pleasure was mine.” And hers, he hoped.

  She started to walk away.

  “Lilly.” She turned at his call. “Just so you know. I totally would have made your night worth the towing fee.”

  Her brow furrowed. She glanced around the room, but most everyone had left already. The teacher was at the sound system, fiddling with the playlist on her phone, and Kenneth had come back and was busy conversing with Rachel and Marie at the entrance to the large ballroom. He watched her take everything into account until a determined look settled on her face. Her gaze swung back to him, and she took a few forceful steps to stand in front of him. She stood toe to toe—thankfully not on them this time—and stared him directly in the eyes.

  “You, Lincoln Reid, are a very bad idea…and totally worth any towing fee.”

  Then she tilted her chin up and placed her soft lips over his. He didn’t even have time to react to the kiss before she pulled back. She pointed a finger in his face.

  “This has to stop happening.”

  He did not agree in any way with that statement. He hoped it kept happening. That and more.

  “Ugh!”

  She threw her hands in the air at his reply of a grin, turning and storming off, muttering something about a stupid, sexy man being impossible to resist. That was twice now she’d kissed him. Twice she fell victim to the chemistry she claimed to denounce. Dare he hope the third time would be the charm that led her back to his bed?

  “Dude, did I just see what I thought I saw?”

  He turned as Kenneth walked up to his side.

  “Depends on what you thought you saw.”

  “Looked like Lilly just planted one on you.”

  He stared at the woman in question as she stopped by Marie’s side, asking her something. Marie smiled, shaking her head and grabbing Lilly in a fierce hug. He saw Lilly stiffen, awkwardly patting his friend on the back. The woman did not handle physical expression well.

  Except with me.

  True. She had no issue being relaxed in his arms.

  “So, did I?” Kenneth prodded. “See you kiss my wedding planner?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t kiss her.” Technically the truth.

  “But she kissed you?”

  He stared at his best friend. The guy who was less like a pal and
more like a brother. The man he usually told everything to. But not this. Lilly might not be able to deny the chemistry between them—she might be fighting a losing battle, and he might enjoy watching her struggle—but he’d be damned if he did anything to upset her. Revealing anything about their night together or any incident that happened since would hurt her. He knew this instinctively. She valued her professionalism, her business, and he would never do anything to put that in jeopardy. So he simply stared at his friend silently.

  “Okay.” Kenneth nodded, taking the hint. “I saw nothing, but just know I think Lilly is great and all, but…”

  “But what?”

  His friend rubbed the back of his neck. Kenneth hated confrontation, but the guy never shied away from talking about something that was important.

  “You two don’t really have a lot in common, and…” Kenneth’s gaze softened. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

  Jessa’s betrayal hadn’t only impacted Lincoln; his friends had taken it hard, too. At one time, they’d all been the fantastic foursome, the perfect couple friends. His ex’s cheating ruined their core group dynamic, and he knew his buddy still harbored anger on Lincoln’s behalf.

  “Don’t worry, man.” He slapped Kenneth on the back. “It’s nothing that serious.”

  Kenneth narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

  He shrugged. “It makes it what it is.”

  And what it was at the moment was a whole lotta nothing. Because he was part of a wedding Lilly was planning. But after the wedding…could he convince her that this explosive chemistry they had deserved another night or two of exploration? He wasn’t asking for forever. He didn’t let his heart get involved like that anymore. Even if the thing did tug uncomfortably in his chest every time the intriguing woman was near.

  Sex only, because he couldn’t give anything more. He just couldn’t.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lincoln stepped into his apartment, sweat dripping down his forehead into his eyes. He swiped at the moisture with his forearm, tossing his keys into the small bowl on the kitchen table. One thing he’d learned in his few short weeks living in Denver: the city had some awesome running trails. Between the Cherry Creek Trail and the abundant parks, it was a runner’s dream city.

  He shrugged off his soft-shell running jacket, stripping the long-sleeved thermal shirt underneath off as well. When the weather got really bad, he’d run on the small treadmill he bought a few years ago, but he hated running in place. He found it boring as hell. So barring below-zero temperatures or a few feet of snow, Lincoln headed outside every morning for a mind-clearing run.

  And boy had he needed to clear his mind lately. After Lilly planted those sweet lips on him the other night—again—his brain hadn’t been able to stop thinking of the smart, sexy woman. Remembering their night together, imagining all the things he wanted to do again and all the things he wanted to do for the first time. If only she’d agree to another go-around.

  He understood her need to keep their relationship professional. Okay, he didn’t. He wasn’t her client; his friends were. But he respected it. If she had a personal rule about comingling with members of her wedding parties, he could abide by that. And it was a personal rule, if her business partner Mo was anything to go by. Her other partner, Pru, might still be on the fence, judging by the hesitant looks he caught her giving him, but Mo had practically thrown them together the other day when he came over to fix their computer. She didn’t seem to have a problem with her dating someone involved in a wedding they were hired to plan, so why did Lilly?

  Something he should ask but had held back from. The answer was sure to be a deep and personal one, most likely filled with pain and bad memories. He was still working through his own issues regarding a bad relationship experience; he wasn’t sure he was ready or able to help anyone else with theirs. Knowing why Lilly had a rule against dating client-adjacent people would take them from the playful, yet powerful, lust-driven connection they shared to something deeper. More real. Lincoln didn’t know if he was ready for that yet. Or ever again.

  He hopped into the shower, sudsing and scrubbing the frozen sweat from his body. The hot water pounding on his back and shoulders loosened the tense muscles. Steam soon filled the tiny bathroom, creating a sauna-like atmosphere. Who needed the gym when he could enjoy a hot steam in the privacy of his own home?

  He shut off the water, stepping out of the shower and toweling dry. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, he glanced at himself, raising a hand to rub at the dark scruff that had turned from the beginnings of a beard to a full-fledged face warmer. He hated shaving. No matter what he tried—creams, oils, the electric or manual razors—he always got razor burn. Damn sensitive skin. Luckily, his vocation didn’t care if he was clean-shaven or not. Score one for being a computer geek.

  Maybe he’d let his beard grow out a little. He was in the land of hipsters and homebrews, after all. If he got himself a flannel shirt, he could fit right in with the other lumbersexuals he’d seen around town. But he drew the line at a man bun. He didn’t have the dedication long hair required.

  Making his way out of the bathroom to his bedroom, he checked the time. He had a few hours before Kenneth’s bachelor party started. Marie and her bridesmaids were having their party at the same time. Everyone was meeting at the end of the night at some bar so the couple could go home together. He made a mental note to turn his music up extra loud tonight. Unfortunately, he’d discovered sound did indeed carry through the floors.

  At least he knew his friends were happy.

  Very happy.

  …

  Hey, what are you up to tonight?

  Lilly glanced at her phone, reading the message lighting up the screen. She paused the show she’d been watching, brow furrowing as she glanced at the name of the sender.

  Aren’t you supposed to be at Kenneth’s bachelor party right now?

  I am, Lincoln’s text came back. Wanna see a picture of the strippers?

  She’d chosen that unfortunate moment to take a sip of her soda. Liquid came out her nose as she choked on the sip. The bubbles popped, irritating her nostrils. Thank God Mo was out tonight. She didn’t want to have to explain why she just inhaled carbonated sugar water.

  No! she texted back, swiping at her damp face with the back of her sleeve. I most certainly do not.

  How the hell could he think she’d want to see some scantily clad women dancing for skeevy drunk pervs? She knew quite a few erotic dancers, and they were extremely talented. Mo had badgered her into taking a free intro pole-dancing class, and she fell flat on her face. Tweaked the heck out of her shoulder. Never went back. Those women had talent and deserved much more recognition than they received.

  You sure?

  Three tiny dots popped up, indicating he was about to send her something. She hoped it wasn’t a picture. Or maybe it’d be good if it was. If Lincoln turned out to be some misogynistic creep who thought women’s bodies only existed for his visual pleasure and that snapping pics in a strip club was okay, she could nip this weird lustful crush thing in the bud for sure.

  A picture arrived on her phone, making her want to laugh and cry at the same time. The screen showed not a woman in pasties and a thong but a small silver can with the words Wood Stripper prominent on the label.

  Dammit. How could she be happy and upset at the same time? He wasn’t a creep. Far from it. The man actually had a wicked sense of humor. Oh, she was in so much trouble.

  Oh ha ha mister funny man.

  I think so. ;)

  He ended the text with a smiling winking face.

  She knew she shouldn’t engage. The more time she spent with the man, the more she wanted to have him again. But they weren’t even in the same room. Texting wasn’t spending time together, right? It wasn’t even a phone call, just simple words on a
screen. He could be anyone. She could resist that, right? What could be the harm in a little back-and-forth texting?

  Wood stripping? What a wild party you guys are having.

  She was in it now.

  She held the phone tightly in her grip, staring at the three tiny dots until they turned into a message her eyes greedily devoured.

  We started with lunch and a brewery tour of Wynkoop, then we headed to this shop that lets you make your own woodworking projects.

  That sounded fun. If you were into beer and woodworking. She wasn’t, but it sounded a hell of a lot better than getting trashed and ogling half-naked women to celebrate finding the love of your life. Honestly, she never understood the whole stripper-for-your-bachelor/bachelorette-party thing. Wouldn’t it make more sense to have that for a breakup party?

  The ladies hit up a spa and are doing a wine and painting party. Then we’re all meeting up later at some bar.

  Now that sounded like something Lilly would totally be into. A nice massage and steam followed by delicious wine and creativity? Sign her up. She knew she liked Marie and Kenneth for a reason. The couple had good taste in recreational activities.

  Sounds like fun. What are you making?

  She took another sip of her soda, carefully, as she waited for his reply.

  A birdhouse. At least it’s supposed to be.

  Moments later, another text came through, and she once again choked on her drink. Thankfully, it was most of the way down her throat, so it didn’t shoot up her nose this time. The sad looking structure in no way resembled a birdhouse. The roof was askew, one side higher than the other. The walls were uneven, adding to the lopsided-roof issue. Tiny nails stuck out of the wood at dangerous angles, and glue oozed out of seams, dripping down the unevenly stained tiny wooden house. Any poor bird that tried to land on that thing would cut their wings to shreds.

  Thank you, she texted.

  For what?

  For revealing one of your faults to me. She laughed as she typed. You may be a wiz at computers, a dynamite dancer, and amazing in bed, but you can’t woodwork to save a life.