Bad Idea_Bad Boy Romantic Comedy

by Bella Love

  I laughed, still confused, and reached for her hand. “I’m Trey Dante. Pleased to meet you.”

  My hand, hardened by years of holding a weapon and the civilized world at bay, closed around her slim, cool one, and a jolt of something went through me that had nothing to do with ass or tits or long, shapely legs that ended in red-painted toenails peeking out from high heels.

  “Come here often?” I said, keeping things light.

  Her cheeks were pink as she laughed, happy again, our hands still holding. “Never been.”

  “Me either.”

  “Well, we have to stop meeting like this.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, I could meet you a time or two again,” I said lazily.

  Still holding.

  “Did you call us here for a reason?” I asked.

  Soft laughter met this. “I figure war changes a man, and you’re probably not the guy I knew thirteen years ago, but I’ll bet a lot of people will expect you to be. So I thought we should, you know, get reacquainted.”

  Well…damn. She looked sweet and innocent and hot as fuck, but that was a sword-thrust of an insight, and I looked straight at her and said something I probably shouldn’t have.

  “I’d get reacquainted with you, Cassidy.”

  Her eyes never left mine. They were searching, and I wasn’t in the mood to be searched, so I looked at her toenails again, then slid my gaze up her body under the guise of admiring her dress. “Nice dress.”

  “Oh, this.” She glanced over her shoulder at the woman she’d been talking to when I came in, and lowered her voice. “That’s Ben’s fiancé. Amber.”

  I lowered my voice too. “Are we scared of her?”

  “We are very scared. She invited peacocks to the wedding—”

  “Peacocks?”

  “—and she wanted us all to look like…”

  I angled an eyebrow up.

  Cass tipped forward and if I looked down, I could stare into the valley between her breasts. I didn’t. I sincerely, adamantly, did not look. But I sincerely, adamantly wanted to.

  “Christmas Barbies,” Cassidy whispered.

  Another smile pulled at my mouth. Five minutes with her and I was smiling more than I had in a month.

  “You’re joking.”

  She shook her head. The high ponytail bobbed a little, swaying the long dark strands across her back. Perfect length to grip in a fist and tug her head back while you were taking her from behind.

  Fuck. Stop it. Little sister of a friend. Not a fuckable woman.

  She stared into the middle distance and put a bright, blank smile on her face, like you did when someone said they wanted to tell you about a dream they’d had.

  “So, do I look like a Barbie?” she asked playfully, her eyes shifting to mine while she held the stance.

  “You look good,” I said, slowly and honestly.

  Our eyes held.

  “Cassidy, who is this?” said a voice. It broke our gaze and we turned to the woman, fiancé of my long-ago best friend. Blonde and tall, she was wearing tights and covered overtop by a very expensive-looking silk robe. She looked like a high priestess.

  “Amber, Trey Dante, Ben’s oldest and bestest friend,” Cass said, introducing us. “Trey, this is Ben’s fiancé, Amber Rothsman.”

  “Ohh,” Amber exclaimed as I took her hand to shake it. “So you’re Trey Dante. I’m so glad you came.”

  “Thanks for having me,” I said politely. She was still holding my hand.

  “‘Having you?’ Ben talked about sending troops to abduct you.” She looked me over. “You look different from the high school pictures he showed me.”

  I shrugged. “It happens. Older. Wiser. More mature.” I thought about Cass’s ass and hoped I was more mature.

  “But not too mature?” Amber replied in a flirty voice. “Ben still eats lollipops and Pez.” I laughed. “He’s spent hours talking to me about you.”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure that was just an excuse to spend hours talking to you,” I replied gallantly.

  Her eyes widened then she giggled.

  I glanced over her shoulder to Cass, who was standing in the background. Cass rolled her eyes and I grinned, then she reached out and extracted me from Amber’s grip.

  “I need to take him to Ben,” she announced. “I’ll be right back.”

  She turned and whisked me to the elevator to see the guy I hadn’t seen in years, who’d once been as close to a brother as you could get. Then Ben went to college and I went to war, and now…I didn’t know what we could get back. But he’d asked me to come, so I went.

  We didn’t say anything as we rode up the elevator and walked down the long corridor. But Cass didn’t let go of my hand and I didn’t pull it back.

  I figured I’d been touching parts of her body for three-quarters of our time together. Maybe five minutes.

  Five minutes longer than I’d wanted to touch part of anyone in a long, long time.

  She and I drew up outside a door and Cass rapped on it.

  “Ben’s going to be really touched you came all the way from Afghanistan to see him,” she whispered.

  “Maybe I came to see you.”

  Why the fuck had I said that? It wasn’t even true.

  The door handle rattled and she gave me a little push forward while she took a step back—always what Cass was doing, stepping into the background—then the door swung wide and Ben stood there.

  Blue-eyed, bow-tie swinging loose, shirt half buttoned, cuffs unlinked, my once brother in all but blood stood staring at me. Behind were the voices of other guys.

  “Jesus…Christ,” he breathed, then stepped forward and hugged me, drew me back into his world, and hugged me harder than I’d been hugged since…since Cassidy did it downstairs.

  And fuck that shit, my eyes filled with tears.

  My Ranger buddies were closer than bone, bound by the blood we’d been soaked in, but this…this was home. And I’d sworn I couldn’t go back.

  Ben held for a long time, and I let him, because I couldn’t speak without my voice cracking, then I said, “Dude, it’s not like we won the pennant or something.”

  With a burst of laughter he released me. His eyes were a little red, and he was laughing and holding the door wide, stepping back and telling me to come inside.

  I went in, then turned to look at Cassidy, standing in the hallway. Her eyes were way redder than Ben’s.

  “You made me cry, you bastard,” she said softly.

  “I’ll make it up to you,” I promised. I thought about ways to make it up to her. Make her smile. Maybe make her do some other things.

  “Deal.” She backed up a step. “See you downstairs?”

  “Downstairs.”

  3

  I STEPPED INSIDE, Ben’s hand on my shoulder, propelling me in and keeping me close. The room was filled with guys, six of them, and they all turned.

  “This is Trey,” Ben said simply. “My best friend, back from the dead.”

  “Thought I was your best friend,” said one guy, taller and bigger than Ben. He came forward to shake my hand.

  “No. You’re a dick. This is Matt,” Ben told me as I reached for the guy’s hand. I shook and squeezed, then immediately loosened my grip when the guy’s face contorted. I thought I’d crushed him, but he just stepped back, nodding a little, avoiding my eye.

  “Back from the Army?” he said.

  “Yeah.” Simple replies were best. Uncomfortable, but best.

  He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Iraq?”

  “Afghanistan.”

  “My brother’s heading over there in a few weeks.”

  “Oh yeah?” What was I supposed to say to that? Poor bastard? Hope he doesn’t get blown up?

  He looked me up and down. I knew how I appeared to this frat boy. Probably the same way I felt. Hard. Scarred. Tired.

  “You look like you’ve seen some action,” he said.

  “How’s that?” I asked, probably coldly.

&nb
sp; Fuck, dude. Chill out, I coached myself.

  He blinked. “Just like you’ve probably been over there a while.”

  I smiled a little. “Awhile.”

  “Any words of wisdom? My brother’s getting nervous. Called me up drunk last week saying he didn’t want to kill anybody.”

  His gaze was intent and close. I knew what he wanted to ask. It was what everyone wanted to ask: Did you kill anyone? What was it like?

  I smashed my lips into a thin line and didn’t reply.

  “Matt.” Ben’s voice was low and warning, and the guy looked into my eyes and blinked, then backed up. “Sure, sure. Sorry.”

  Being a Ranger could make you stand out in pleasant company.

  Or maybe it was just me.

  Ben introduced me to the others—I knew none of them—and we all did the polite thing. I shook hands and lightened my grip and searched their faces and their eyes, finding nothing to fear and nothing to interest, and thought again there was no going home.

  What was I doing here, where I didn’t belong? All this money, all these people who thought a bad day on the stock market counted as ‘brutal,’ who thought they could ask me about killing the way you ask about dessert.

  The hotel room was high up, penthouse level, and the sun shone in, but even though the room was bright, everything seemed dark.

  Then I thought about Cassidy downstairs, with her flushed cheeks and high ponytail and that red dress skimming her curves, reintroducing herself to me.

  Looking like she wanted me.

  Ben took my shoulder again. “We’ll be back,” he said to the others, and guided me to a huge bedroom and shut the door.

  We considered each other in silence for a minute, then he smiled. “Matt was right. You look like you’ve seen some action. And not the good, female kind. You’re like an action hero, coming in here.”

  I smiled. “You scared, Ben?”

  “Only of what you might convince me to do.”

  I shook my head. “Never convinced you to do anything you didn’t already want to do. But I always got the blame.”

  “Good point. You deserved it.”

  We smiled at each other then he waved a hand at the room, inviting me to sit as he dropped into one of the plush chairs by the window.

  I hadn’t been around many plush chairs recently. I knew how they operated, I just wasn’t comfortable in them, so I set down my bag and kept standing.

  His eyes met mine. “You came.”

  “You asked.”

  He wiped his hand over his face, then sat forward, elbows on his thighs. “You okay?”

  “Sure.” Not really. But enough about me. “Congratulations, man. You’re getting married.”

  He nodded, his eyes searching like Cass’s had been. “I could say the same thing to you. Silver Star?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t want to talk about the circumstances of my Silver Star award. It was a star, not a life.

  Ben looked me over a second longer, then nodded and sat back. “You out now?”

  “Full out. Discharged last week.”

  “And?”

  “And…yeah. I’m all set. I’m good.”

  Good and hitting the road. Going to a town out west called Destiny Falls, which was a stupid name, but my brother Finn was there, and it was as good a place to restart as anywhere. Mountains and trees and not a lot of people.

  “Be in the wedding,” Ben said decisively.

  My attention snapped back to him. “What?”

  “Be in the wedding. Be my best man.”

  I laughed and looked down at myself, wearing jeans. “Seriously?”

  “You brought a suit, right?”

  “Well, yeah…”

  “Wear that.” His eyes were close on mine. “I don’t care what you wear. Wear a towel if you want.”

  “In the snow? You’re cruel, man.”

  He smiled. “Wear my tux.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I’m way bigger than you.”

  “Like hell you are.”

  “My dick is.”

  We both were grinning now. His faded a little, but stayed in place. “Just…be my best man. You’re here. I can’t fucking believe you’re here. I can’t fucking believe you didn’t tell me you were coming.”

  “I wasn’t sure I could make it.”

  Literally. I hadn’t been sure I could handle all the people and chit-chat and meaningless shit. Even though all I wanted was meaningless shit. I wanted sitcoms and Big Macs. I wanted them to do something to me. Click a switch and turn me around. Make me fit again. But I’d clogged my arteries over the past week with the shit, and it was still just that: shit.

  And I was still just me: a little broken and not knowing how to get back in the groove.

  “Well, you’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

  “Yeah?” I said quietly. “And what’s your current best man going to say? Is it Matt?”

  He gave a short laugh and shook his head. “He’s not mine. He’s Amber’s brother.”

  “Look,” I said, as decisively as he had. “It’s fine. I don’t need to be in the wedding. I don’t need anything. If you have anything else I can do to help out, let me know, but—”

  “Gift guard.”

  “What?”

  “Amber’s mom’s going to be collecting the gifts, but if you want to keep your eye on them before the wedding starts…”

  “Done.”

  He eyed me a second. “And if you need anything…”

  “Nothing.”

  “If you did, I’d do it.” His words were quiet and intense. “Anything. Whatever you need, I’m there.”

  I gave a shrug and shook my head. Whatever I needed, Ben didn’t have.

  I thought again of Cassidy. She probably didn’t have it either. But it had sure felt good, getting hugged by her.

  Probably the tits and ass, I reasoned. And the smile. And the way she reintroduced herself, knowing she didn’t know me anymore.

  “Stick close to Cassidy,” Ben said abruptly, like he was reading my mind.

  I jerked my gaze over. “Serious? You warned me off her pretty hard one time.”

  He got to his feet. “That was the night you took her to get a tattoo.”

  I snorted. “Better than it would have been without me there. You should have seen the one she wanted to get.”

  He grimaced. “I’ll bet. But back then she was a kid and had a killer crush on you and you were a bad-ass troublemaker.”

  “Maybe I’m still a bad-ass troublemaker.”

  He arched a brow. “Dude, I’m not telling you to take her in a dark room and have your way with her. But she’s…good energy. Easy to be with. And…” He paused. “She likes you. And she doesn’t really fit in here either.”

  “Too nice?”

  “Way. Let me put it this way: look out for her, okay? If you won’t be in the wedding, devote yourself to Cass. Will you do that for me?”

  Aww…shit.

  I started thinking of all the ways I’d like to devote myself to Cassidy’s cause.

  “Mr. Devotion,” I muttered. “That’s me.” I reached for my duffle bag. “Can I get changed?”

  4

  I WAS IN THE BANQUET HALL, me and a Roman legion of wait staff. They scurried along the back walls, in and out of the kitchen, getting ready for the epic night.

  I was making my way around the tables, setting out small Pez-like dispensers with miniature coffee cup ‘heads’ atop each one. I put one beside every place setting, right next to the personalized wine stoppers engraved with Ben and Amber’s name and the date of the wedding, a more upscale wedding favor.

  But these were my own little creation, a blast from our past and a little surprise for Ben. His favorite treat as a kid had been Pez, and Amber, for all her bridezilla tendencies, truly did love him, and gave her stamp of approval at once to these. Because these little babies didn’t dispense crappy candy, they spit out a perfectly measured two-shot serving of coffee beans.
/>   Owning a now-defunct coffee shop ought to have some perks, right?

  I’d designed and ordered five thousand of them, thinking they might be a little angle to help save my business, a faltering, funky coffee shop, but they came too late to save anything.

  It might have been too tall a task for a hollow plastic tube.

  But hey, it was okay, because I had an offer to work as the newly minted personal assistant to Amber’s dad, Ben’s soon-to-be father-in-law. I’d be one of three, but it was a big, well-paying job, better than struggling coffee shop owner. Ben said I couldn’t spend my whole life making other people happy with drugs, even if they were legal.

  “Just take the job. Ben had said. “Stop gap, you know?”

  I definitely had some gaps to stop.

  Seriously, who doesn’t give up running their own tiny coffee shop, barely making ends meet, talking with people and enjoying yourself, when you could be making sixty K a year, plus benefits, in a glassy high rise, mingling with the rich and very rich?

  Right?

  I said I’d think about it.

  Still, I was proud of my little coffee bean dispensers, even if my dreams were in shambles, and I stood one upright beside each plate, knowing Ben at least would love them.

  I slid around a table and stopped short.

  From under the table beside mine, I saw a pair of brown puppy eyes staring up at me.

  “Hey little guy,” I whispered, and bent down. “Hi there.”

  The puppy, possibly a German Shepherd, black as night and furry as hell, backed up a few steps then tumbled down on his haunches, half sitting, watching me. His fat little back legs stuck out.

  I sat down too and smiled at him. I figured smiling couldn’t hurt. Behind me, wait staff bustled. “Hey buddy,” I said softly. “You hungry?”

  He blinked, then yawned, showing me sharp little white teeth.

  “Hey listen, things are going to get crazy in here in a little bit,” I told him, and rested my hand on the ground. “There’s going to be people in expensive clothes and loud music and peacocks, and I don’t think you’re going to be a popular guy.”

  He tilted his head to the side. His furry ears flopped over. Then he tilted his head the other way, and his ears flopped with him.