Save the Date

by R. J. Groves

  There was the twitch again. He was not amused. He took a slow, deliberate step closer, bringing his face only inches from hers. His eyes held hers with a look so intense she wasn’t sure what it meant. She swallowed, suddenly unsure of whether she felt afraid or exhilarated.

  ‘Tell me you have it.’

  His tone was deep. Commanding. Quiet. It should have frightened her. It should have been a warning sign. It would have been, had it come from Joseph. But for what? He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would hurt her—not physically. Then again, she wasn’t exactly the best judge of character. But instead of setting off sirens and alarms in her head, he’d done something entirely different. She could taste him in his breath, a reminder of the night before. Of him … His kisses. She darted her tongue out to wet her lips that seemed to have dried significantly with his closeness, and felt the thrill ripple through her when his gaze dropped to her lips, his eyes darkening. His hand slid over her waist, reaching into her back pocket. Her breath escaped as he squeezed.

  ‘Not there,’ he murmured, bringing his other hand to her other back pocket and tugging her closer. Her hands instinctively went to his chest, her body wanting to be closer, wanting to relive the night before, even though she knew that it would only hurt her more. But God, he made it hard. His lips moved closer to hers. ‘Not there, either.’

  He was so close she could almost feel his lips on hers, and she ached to close the distance. She’d been about to lift her chin to meet him when someone cleared their throat in her ear. Taylor released her too quickly, leaving her feeling cold and vulnerable, despite the warmth of the room around them. How could he make her feel that way?

  ‘Excuse me.’

  She took a deep, steadying breath and turned to her client. ‘I’ll see you two weeks from now, Miss Harlot,’ she said.

  She was not going to apologise for being in her way. In her opinion, Miss Harlot was a total snob. And whether or not they were truly in her way, Andie was frustrated at being cheated from another kiss. She glanced towards Taylor out of the corner of her eye to see him running a hand over the soft bristles along his jawline. She felt her hand reaching up towards her own jawline to mimic his actions, and redirected it to rest on her chest, just below her throat.

  ‘Har-low,’ the woman enunciated, looking down her nose with narrowed eyes. ‘The t is silent.’

  Andie suppressed a smirk. ‘My mistake.’ It was not. ‘I’ll remember it next time.’ She wouldn’t.

  She watched her client strut from the room, her nose in the air, and finally dropped her gaze to the floor. She reached into the pocket that held the key and pulled it out, handing it over to the incredibly attractive man beside her. She would not look at him. Not in the way she had before Miss Harlot interrupted them. No. He wanted casual, right? Surely that didn’t mean moments like … like that. At her workplace. It was probably just as well they’d been interrupted, otherwise things may have escalated very quickly. One thing was for certain though …

  Taylor Ballin had no intention of hurting her.

  Not physically. Not in the way that she’d been sure Joseph had wanted to at times. Sure, he never had. But there were times when she’d been worried he might. She was blinded by a fantasy.

  No more.

  She had to see clearly, no matter what. No matter how hard it was to navigate herself through the haze. She had to know what she was getting into before she got too deep. And she’d be damned if she could form a coherent thought with Taylor standing in the same room as her. Or building. God, even in the same city, he still didn’t leave her mind.

  His hand closed over hers, releasing the key from her grip. His fingers lingered against hers for the briefest of moments, sending a wave of fire surging through her. She reminded herself that she needed to think. She couldn’t have a repeat of what just happened—or was about to—at her workplace. Sure, Harley wouldn’t be particularly bothered. But if Jannette walked in … Well, to put it simply, her boss was big on professionalism. And fraternising with one of their clients was not professional. Not on any scale.

  ‘Harlot?’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Bet she can’t wait to change her last name.’

  She allowed herself to smile, relieved that the tension seemed to be in her head. ‘She’s keeping it, actually.’

  He gave her a shocked look. ‘You’re serious?’

  She nodded, glancing up at him, then dropped her gaze again. Her cheeks were growing hotter. ‘Something about being an only child and the only one to carry on the family name or something.’

  ‘Huh.’

  ‘And the alternative wasn’t much better,’ she added.

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘Pecker.’

  He let out a glorious laugh that seemed to vibrate through her body. She couldn’t resist a smile. Or the feeling that her insides were melting under his gaze. Oh, she was in trouble all right. It was already too late to avoid that. Still … he’d been clear about the whole casual thing.

  ‘And what’s your take on that?’ he said, his expression teasing but somehow serious.

  She frowned. ‘On Pecker?’

  ‘On taking the guy’s last name.’

  Oh. He was talking about if she was to ever marry. A topic that seemed a lot less casual than she thought he wanted.

  ‘That would depend.’

  ‘On?’

  ‘On the last name.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Keep it, or change it?’

  The hint of mischief returned in his eyes. ‘I’m the guy,’ he said, pointing to his chest. The guy. She sighed, wondering briefly what it might be like to be married to Taylor Ballin. She banished the thought. She needed to stop looking into every word. ‘As a guy’—she tried to ignore his obvious correction—‘I keep my own last name.’

  She nodded slowly, trying to remain cool. Andie Ballin. It would suit. She’d change it for that. He had such fascinating eyes … She could imagine a mini Taylor with those eyes. His words caught up to her. ‘I meant for the girl,’ she said, feeling the blush spread. She focused on the ground again.

  She could practically feel his smile brightening the room. ‘She’d change it,’ he said, matter-of-factly. ‘I’d want her in every way. So the name should be mine.’

  She narrowed her eyes, lifting her gaze towards him, trying to ignore her heart racing inside her chest. ‘Does she get a choice on that?’

  ‘She wouldn’t want a choice.’

  Andie Ballin.

  She swallowed, the name sounding nicer by the minute. Oh, she was jumping ahead of herself. It wouldn’t go that far with him, would it? He made it clear he wasn’t wanting anything serious. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t hurt a bit. Or a lot. But she’d rather take what she could get, rather than have nothing at all, wouldn’t she?

  His eyes had darkened once more, sending a shock through her body. God, she knew he wanted casual, but if he kept looking at her like that … Well, she wasn’t sure her heart could take it. If she hadn’t already lost it, of course. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to break eye contact, desperate to get the conversation back onto a safer topic.

  ‘Don’t give me your key again. It’s too much responsibility.’

  ***

  Tay shifted the paperwork on his desk, a feeble attempt at organisation. He’d never been good at organising. Seemingly worse since he’d met Andie. Even more so since the night before. He rested his palms wide on the desk, holding himself upright. He’d spent the last week and a half trying to get the blasted woman out of his head, and only succeeded in pushing himself to the brink of insanity. Helen had been some help in keeping his schedule busy, and he’d been out of town for a few days pitching their new wine range to potential investors. But the whole time it just didn’t quite feel … right. Complete. As fulfilling as it had before. Like something was missing. Someone.

  It’s too much responsibility.

  What
the bloody hell did that mean? There was a reason why he’d avoided getting involved with a woman for so long, damn it. And he’d thrown it all away for this … this … goddess. He swiped the paperwork off his desk and watched it scatter to the floor. Then he lowered himself to his chair and reached into the lower drawer of his desk, pulling out the bottle of bourbon and the glass he’d had stashed for such a moment as this. He watched the liquid slosh into the glass and took a sip.

  Keeping busy did nothing for distracting him from her green-brown eyes, her gentle touch, the silkiness of her hair, her skin … He took another sip, feeling the bourbon burn his throat. Nothing he did could get her out of his head. And it worried him. He’d stressed that he only wanted things to be casual with her. He’d never regretted anything more in his life. And he had his share of regrets.

  He felt his grip tighten on the glass. If only he hadn’t freaked out and mentioned that he wanted to keep things casual. He’d thought she was going to spill all her feelings. And he didn’t want to break her heart. Didn’t want to have to tell her that he was incapable of loving. She deserved more. She deserved everything. A good man. Love. A family. A future. Plans. Time. More than he could offer. Yet he didn’t want anyone else to give it to her.

  But it hadn’t been what she was going to say. She wasn’t going to profess undying love for him and make what happened between them so much more. Hell, she may have even ended it then and there if he hadn’t mentioned the casual thing, which frightened him even more.

  He’d been worried that she was going to get attached to him too quickly. And yet … was it possible that he was the one that had grown attached to her? It couldn’t be. She wanted it as much as he did, surely. The way she’d looked at him, teased him. And managed to get him to drop everything to go see her about his blasted key. Or was it just an excuse to see her?

  There was only one thing he was sure of.

  He was selfish. A selfish, arrogant bastard who should never have pursued her and should never have had the chance to taste her, to feel her lips on his. And feel how surreal it was to have her close, in his arms. Nothing coming between them. He downed the rest of the liquid and threw the glass as hard as he could, watching it shatter against the door frame, while his best friend ducked for cover.

  ‘The hell, Tay? What did I ever do to you?’

  He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. ‘Didn’t know you were there.’

  ‘Or did you forget what day it is?’

  He blinked absently at his best friend, then realised what he was talking about. He swore under his breath. ‘Your bachelor party, right. No, I didn’t forget.’

  Connor shook his head and waved a finger towards him. ‘See, this is why I asked Lex and Billy to organise it instead of you.’

  Tay picked up his jacket and stared down at the paperwork on the floor, then over at the shattered glass. If she hadn’t been in his head so much, he might have remembered his best friend’s party. Among other things.

  ‘Don’t worry about that, Tay. You can fix it up tomorrow.’

  He sighed, shrugged his jacket on, grabbed the bottle of bourbon off his desk, and followed Connor out of his office.

  ‘Your wedding isn’t for another two months. Why’s the party now?’

  Connor shook his head. ‘Like I said, Lex and Billy. Knowing them, we’ll be partying for the next two months.’

  He grimaced. Even the thought of it didn’t appeal to him. Not like it once had. ‘Where are they?’ he said casually.

  ‘Already at the bar, I’d imagine. We’re meeting them there.’

  ‘Mind if we make a stop on our way?’ Connor turned towards him, his eyebrow raised. ‘Got something to sort out.’

  Chapter 26

  ‘I just don’t understand. Wh—why would he d—do that?’

  Andie stroked Harley’s hair as she sobbed against her. Going off her own experience, Andie was probably the last person Harley should be going to for advice. She was terrible at picking the good guys from the bad guys. Clearly. Since Taylor hadn’t messaged or called or made any contact with her since he’d retrieved his key. Then again, she hadn’t exactly attempted to contact him either. But it wasn’t wrong to want him to make the first move, was it? With Joseph, she’d been the one to initiate conversations. Jump start the decisions. She’d thought that was one of her big mistakes with him. So, naturally, she decided to leave that behind with Taylor and let him make the first call.

  So she waited.

  And waited.

  And still nothing.

  And for the briefest of moments, she thought he might have been at her door, and the thought of that possibility thrilled her. But it was Harley.

  A heartbroken Harley.

  Not him.

  She made soft shushing noises and continued stroking Harley’s hair. She might not be good at giving advice, but she took pride in her comforting skills.

  ‘Are you sure they … you know …?’

  Harley scoffed, then sniffed. ‘Of course I am. I confronted him, you know. He didn’t even deny it.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘That he didn’t think we w—were exclusive,’ Harley said, her voice choked with tears. ‘He’s been doing it the whole time. I was just th—the c—convenient g—girl next d—door.’ She broke into another fit of sobs and blew her nose into a tissue.

  Poor Harley.

  Andie knew what it felt like to find out the guy you thought you loved—who you thought was smitten with you—was never committed to you. It was enough to make her feel shattered at the time. She wasn’t sure she could go through it again. Her thoughts drifted to Taylor and what he’d been doing for the last week and a half. He wanted to keep things casual … What did that mean? Was that his way of saying that he wouldn’t be exclusive with her?

  She heard another knock at the front door and gave her friend another squeeze. ‘That’ll be the pizza,’ she said. ‘I’ll be right back.’

  Harley nodded and blew her nose once again. Andie grabbed her purse and opened the door, only to find Joey standing there, not the pizza guy. ‘What are you doing?’ she whispered, stepping outside and half-closing the door behind her. ‘Since when do you knock?’

  Joey smiled awkwardly and nudged his thumb towards Harley’s car. ‘Saw that and thought I’d knock in case it was him. Didn’t want to walk in on you—’

  ‘It’s Harley’s car,’ she said, rolling her eyes.

  ‘So, not him?’

  ‘No, it’s not … him.’ She whispered the last word quieter than the rest.

  Joey leaned in closer. ‘So, why are we whispering?’

  ‘Because Harley has just had her heart broken by her jackass of a boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.’

  His eyebrow shot up. ‘Oh really? Is she hot?’ He craned his neck to see through the gap in the door. Andie flattened her palm against his chest.

  ‘Oh, God,’ she muttered. ‘Joey! She’s heartbroken, you turd.’

  He spread his hands out. ‘I’m just saying,’ he said defensively. ‘I’m happy to be a rebound if she needs one.’

  She swore under her breath and noticed the pizza guy pull up on his bike. ‘Finally, something that can actually help,’ she said, pressing against his chest once more when he nudged to move past her. ‘Joey, no. Put it away.’

  ‘Seriously? If she’s a friend of yours, she’s a friend of mine.’

  ‘She’s not your friend.’

  He shrugged as if it were only a minor detail. ‘Yeah, but I’m pretty good at ass-kicking.’

  ‘I’m going to kick your—’

  ‘Pizza?’

  She glared at Joey, wondering how on earth the pizza guy reached them so quickly, and pulled the money from her purse. It wasn’t until she’d balanced her purse on top of the boxes and taken the pizzas from the guy’s hands that she saw him. Him. Taylor. The guy she’d been aching to see for what seemed like forever. And here he was—with terrible timing. He was walking slowly towar
ds them, his hands in his pockets, his hair slightly messed and looking a little more casual than usual, despite looking like he’d just come from work.

  He watched the pizza guy leave and halted a few feet away from them. ‘Joey, good to see you again.’

  ‘Likewise,’ Joey muttered, a hint of mischief in his voice.

  Taylor turned his focus on her. ‘Andie.’ God, his eyes bored through her like a wildfire, and the way he said her name …

  ‘T—Taylor.’ She felt her breath leave her body and the pizzas slipping from her hands.

  ‘Careful of the pizza, Ands,’ Joey muttered, taking them from her drooping hands. ‘I’ll just … I’ll take these inside, shall I? I’m sure Harley needs the comp—fort. Comfort food.’

  That was enough to snap her out of her state of shock. ‘No touching,’ she hissed at him.

  ‘Ass-kicking.’

  He closed the door behind him, leaving her and Taylor outside together. Suddenly outside didn’t seem so big.

  ‘Is … ahh … Harley all right?’ he said, pulling one hand out his pocket to rake it through his hair.

  She swallowed, watching his smooth hair slide between his fingers. Her hands clenched by her side, aching to feel his hair herself. She took a shaky breath, folding her arms over her chest.

  ‘Yes. No.’ His eyebrow shot up, and she sighed again, focusing on her foot that had started kicking at the ground. ‘No, she’s not. She just broke up with her boyfriend. Apparently, he didn’t think they were … exclusive.’ She risked a glance up at him on the last word.

  Both eyebrows were raised now, and he let out a long, slow breath. ‘That’s … tough.’

  ‘It is,’ she said, her eyes narrowing. He seemed uneasy. ‘Are we? Exclusive, I mean.’

  His brow furrowed. ‘I don’t … we’re—’

  ‘Casual, I know.’ She let out the breath she’d been holding on to. ‘But is that like … exclusive-casual?’

  His head tilted to the side, his lips curving in amusement. ‘I didn’t know there was such a thing.’