“If I survived breaking the news to my parents that their only daughter was a lesbian, you can sure as hell survive this.” It had taken them a few months, but Shannon’s parents had eventually become supportive. In their own awkward way.
“Absolutely.” Mia squared her shoulders. “I’m going to be a grown-up and go into this with a positive attitude.” Still, she found plenty of reasons not to call her father back just yet, staying busy right up until the time when she had to leave the office to meet Wren and Riley.
They’d agreed on a Mexican restaurant close to where Wren worked, so the meeting would easily fit into her lunch break. But even though she was the one with the least distance to travel, she was the last one to show. When Mia arrived, Riley Kendrick was seated at a booth and checking email on her phone. She looked a lot like her younger sister, but her blond hair was shorter, her eyes a clearer blue than Wren’s stormy gray.
Mia slid in across from her. “You look great. Being engaged obviously agrees with you.”
Riley extended her hand, glancing dreamily at the diamond solitaire engagement ring. “Being engaged is lovely, but being married to Jack will be even better.” She said it with such easy confidence, no doubt in her mind that she’d found the perfect man for her.
Mia felt a twinge of something like envy, but brushed it away, impatient with herself. Riley was a wonderful woman who deserved happiness, especially after a rough patch a couple of years ago when she’d been robbed at gunpoint. According to Wren, she’d been agoraphobic for months. “Any idea when your sister will be gracing us with her presence?” Mia asked lightly.
Riley laughed, reaching for the carafe of salsa and filling the empty bowl on the table. “For Wren, anything less than ten minutes late is on time. It always drives our mom crazy, but I think Wren’s just trying to cram as much living into her life as she can fit, time constraints be damned.”
“That sounds about right.”
“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here!” Wren announced her presence from the other side of the partition dividing the dining room before she rushed around the corner. “Sorry.” She grabbed a chip as she squeezed in next to her sister. “A friend stopped by the shop to find something sexy for Valentine’s Day—she makes wedding cakes, Ry, you should talk to her—and we lost track of time while I was ringing up her purchases.”
“Speaking of lingerie purchases,” Mia said, “if I don’t tell you enough, I really appreciate you including me in your limited number of friends-and-family markdowns. I’ve, ah, received some compliments lately on my collection.”
“From who?” Wren demanded. “You—”
The waitress interrupted to ask if they were ready to order, and they had to admit they hadn’t made any decisions. Riley was the only one who’d even opened a menu yet, but she said everything looked so good she couldn’t choose.
Wren rolled her eyes. “You know you’re getting the burrito ranchero. You always do.”
“I was thinking about trying something different this time.”
They looked over the selections and were ready when the waitress returned a few moments later. Mia got a fajita salad, Wren asked for the daily special—but made three different substitutions to personalize the dish—and Riley ordered the shrimp tacos. Which she immediately changed to a burrito ranchero.
“Boring,” Wren declared.
“I am not,” Riley said. “I just know what I like.”
“Back me up here, Mia. Tell my sister if she’s not careful, she’ll end up boring and predictable.”
Mia grinned. “You know, sometimes the people you mistakenly think are stuffy or predictable turn out to be...” Seductive. Impulsive. Wickedly talented in bed.
“You have a secret.” Wren jabbed a tortilla chip at her in accusation. “Not cool, Hayes. Spill all.”
She hesitated, unsure how to sum up Daniel. I reconnected with a guy who used to bug the hell out of me in college. He’s recovering from a very recent breakup by giving me earthshaking orgasms. “Later,” she promised. “Aren’t we here on official business? Riley’s engagement party first, then my sex life.”
Wren’s eyes were the size of the decorative sombreros hanging on the wall. “So there is actual sex happening? Since when?”
“Since Friday.” She sighed at the memory of being in Daniel’s office. Someday soon, she was going back so they could take a crack at that desk.
The waitress brought their food out, and Mia was able to steer conversation back to Riley’s party. It had been a challenge to find an available date that worked for the people who meant the most to Riley and Jack, but they’d settled on Friday, February 24, at the planetarium. There was a private room for events, and the party would even include a short, customized show.
“I was never a straight-A science student like my sisters,” Wren said, “but I did always love the planetarium. Dad used to take me and Riley and Rochelle, then we’d go for ice cream.”
“The planetarium’s an apt metaphor,” Riley said, reminding Mia of Daniel, with his jokes about symbolism and similes in literature. “Before I met Jack, my world had shrunk down to fear and my apartment. In some ways, it’s like he gave me back the universe.”
“Ugh.” Wren mimed banging her head on the table. “I’m deliriously head over heels for Brant, and even I find that sickening. Feel free to rave about Jack, but maybe instead of sappy metaphors, you could give us the dirty details of your love life?”
Mia laughed. “What’s with all the sudden interest in living vicariously through our sex lives? I thought everything with Brant was smoking hot.”
“Best sex I’ve ever had.” But Wren’s sigh made the words less than convincing. “We’re so attuned. He knows what I like. The only thing is...” She stabbed at her food, frowning. “There’s never any sense of surprise, because he does exactly what I would have asked him to. Am I stupid to be disappointed by that? By a guy who gives me what I want? I sound ridiculous.”
“Not ridiculous,” Mia said. Every time Daniel had taken her by surprise this weekend had been exhilarating. “Familiarity can be comforting, but a touch of the unexpected is...” She stopped, not wanting to make Wren feel worse.
Riley leaned back against the booth. “Jack and I have definitely done things I wouldn’t have expected from myself.” Judging from her smile, she’d liked those things. A lot.
“Yay!” Wren rubbed her hands together with glee. “Details. Finally.”
“There...may be a nude drawing of me somewhere,” Riley admitted. “I posed for it on our first date. Then I took him to bed.”
Wren gasped. “What the hell did you do for your second date? And how do I get a framed copy of that drawing for the engagement party?”
Riley elbowed her in the side.
“Maybe you should try surprising Brant?” Mia suggested. “That could be fun for you and inspire him to reciprocate. You might be astonished what men are capable of with a little encouragement.”
Riley nodded. “Rochelle told me when she was trying to get pregnant—”
“Ack, no!” Wren protested. “I’ve already heard enough about our sister’s fertility odyssey to be scarred for life. No one needs to know her brother-in-law’s sperm count. Ever. I’m just happy they’re finally expecting and look forward to being Cool Aunt Wren.”
“Guess that makes me Sensible Aunt Riley, the one who gives our niece or nephew Pepto after hours of junk food in your company.”
Wren beamed. “We’ll make a hell of a team.”
As the waitress cleared their plates away, conversation moved from Rochelle’s due date to when Jack and Riley were planning to get married.
“Obviously, we’re planning to talk to you about coordinating the wedding,” Riley told Mia. “I just figured, one thing at a time.”
“The engagement party is a logical au
dition. If I screw it up,” Mia teased, “you have plenty of time to find someone competent before the big day.”
“Nothing is getting screwed up,” Wren said loyally. “Mia is the best. Except for how she stalled telling me about the new man in her life until my lunch hour was over.” She pulled some bills from her gigantic purse. “I have to get back to work. You’d better call me soon.”
“I will,” Mia promised.
As she was starting her car ten minutes later, her phone rang, and she half expected it was Wren, calling to interrogate. Her friend was not known for patience. But it was Daniel’s name on the screen, and her pulse thumped heavy in her chest. She was grinning like an idiot when she activated the Bluetooth. Her affair with Daniel might not be serious, but it certainly made her happy. “Hi.”
“Hi.” There was an answering smile in his voice.
“How’s your Monday?”
“Not bad, as Mondays go. But knowing there’s no chance of seeing you is putting a damper on my mood.” He’d told her he was traveling to a sister campus this evening for meetings all day tomorrow. “I don’t know how late it will be when I get back tomorrow night, and I’ll probably be brain-dead from trying to care about other people’s opinions. But what are the chances I can take you to dinner on Wednesday?”
“Pretty nonexistent. I’m overseeing an anniversary party.” A lot of her events were on the weekend, but the couple had been adamant about wanting the celebration on their actual anniversary. “How about Thursday? I’m free after six thirty.”
“I’m covering a night class for a fellow professor. Friday?”
“Sorry. I’m booked all weekend.” The regret she felt was ironic; after all, a busy schedule meant her business was doing well. “What time exactly is the class Thursday night?”
“Seven thirty to nine.”
“How would you feel about a late dinner? I could cook,” she offered, surprised by the words. She barely cooked for herself, much less guests—at least, not ones she actually liked.
“Sounds perfect.”
Yeah, he said that now. Before he’d tasted anything. Mia frequently got impatient while cooking and rushed through steps or tried to make do with recipe substitutions when she lacked ingredients like crème fraiche or hoisin or jicama. So keep it simple. If twelve-year-olds in home ec classes could cook meals, Mia could damn well prepare something. Besides, the devil on her shoulder reminded her, dining privately meant she wasn’t limited by conventional wardrobe options. She could swing by Wren’s store between now and Thursday and with any luck, Daniel would be too distracted to notice if the pasta was rubbery or the sauce had a slightly burned undertone.
“Then I’ll see you Thursday. Thanks for being flexible,” she said, grateful for the compromise. “My crazy schedule has been an issue with past boyfriends. Not that you’re my... I just mean, I appreciate your understanding.”
“Your job’s as important to you as mine is to me.” His matter-of-fact acceptance was one of the many things she appreciated about him. “I’m not going to get bent out of shape just because I have to wait a few extra days to see you again.”
She grinned inwardly, already making plans. “I’ll do my best to be worth of the wait.”
* * *
AS MIA OPENED the door, the words “I brought wine” rose to Daniel’s lips but came out an unintelligible splutter as he registered what she was wearing—a deep purple microdress with thin straps, made of stretchy patterned lace that hid very little. A piece of lingerie meant for the bedroom, except that he was fortunate enough to be dating a nonconformist. He got a tantalizing glimpse of full breasts, her nipples barely covered, and swallowed hard.
“Nice to see you, too.” She flashed him a mischievous smile, tugging him inside so that she could close the door. When she took the bottle of Cabernet and turned toward the kitchen, he realized that she also wore a matching thong. Even after she disappeared around the corner, the sight lingered like an afterimage of staring at the sun. Only a fool would blink it away.
He followed her, standing in the doorway as she uncorked the Cabernet. The kitchen was small, currently filled with the aroma of pot roast from the slow-cooker on the counter, but he liked the coziness, enjoyed being this close to her and watching the lithe stretch of her body as she reached overhead for wineglasses. Her hair was swept into a casual knot off her neck, which would have guaranteed his being turned on if he weren’t already, and her manicure and pedicure were the same deep violet as the lace.
“More lingerie from Wren?” he asked once he’d found his voice.
She turned to face him, nodding.
“I’m going to need her address. To send her flowers.”
Mia laughed, parts of her bouncing gently beneath the lace in a way that made his dick swell. “I’m not sure her boyfriend would appreciate that, but I’ll introduce you to her sometime soon so you can thank her in person.” She held up the bottle she’d opened. “This is pretty swanky. I’ve never tried it myself, but I’ve seen it listed on menus.”
He shrugged self-consciously. “It’s one of the labels I’m familiar with.” His parents, who collected for their wine cellar, acted like anything under forty dollars might as well be poured straight out of a box.
She set the bottle on the counter and closed the distance between them with a few short steps, the playful glint in her eyes as alluring as her outfit. “I assume we should let it breathe. I wonder how we could pass the time?” She traced her index finger over the curve of his upper lip and leaned close enough for him to get a hit of her spiced vanilla body lotion. “Oh, I know... You could set the table while I toss the salad.”
He groaned out a laugh. “You’re a cruel woman.”
She fluttered her lashes at him. “Plates are in that cabinet by the fridge.”
“Okay. But I get to pick the after-dinner activity.”
* * *
IT HAD TAKEN most of dinner before he’d been able to tear his gaze away from the beautiful, barely dressed woman across from him, but Daniel was finally studying his surroundings. None of the furniture was precisely matched, but it was mostly of decent quality, and she’d decorated with eclectic artwork and bright pops of color.
“I like your place,” he told her. “At least, what I’ve seen of it.” He was hoping for the grand tour of the bedroom shortly. Although the leather couch would work just fine, too. Or, for that matter—
“You pretty much have seen it. Only things left are my room and bathroom. It’s modest digs.”
“Modest, but inviting.”
She grinned. “That’s the glass of wine and dim lighting talking. You think all these electric candles are for ambience? They cast my housekeeping skills in a flattering light.”
He liked that she thought about details like the lighting. This week he’d spent entirely too much time in meetings, and he’d been surrounded by Idea People who’d spoken at length about big new goals for the university. Daniel applauded goals. Yet when challenged on how manpower or resources could be stretched to realistically meet those goals, those same people were at a loss. He’d realized that none of them wanted to bother with details. While party-planning and higher education were very different things, hearing Mia talk about everything from music selection to napkins made him respect her loving attention to what others would consider minutiae. All those little intricacies added up to memorable overall impressions.
“You’re very good at your job,” he told her suddenly. “I wish more of the people I worked with were like you. Everyone wants credit for big projects, but no one wants to do the grunt work to make them happen.” Mia was unafraid of hard work. At Bex and Eli’s wedding, she’d been the first one to show up at the solarium and the last one to leave.
She leaned dangerously forward, her cleavage testing the limits of her lacy lingerie, and he thought she was g
oing to say something flirtatious in response. But she stopped herself, her expression turning cautious. “About my job. I’m dying to plan something special for your birthday next week.”
His gaze was still on her spectacular breasts. “I’m all yours.”
She balled up a napkin and tossed it at him. “Not sex. Well,” she added after a brief pause, “not just sex. An actual celebration with actual people before we get to the sex.”
“How many people?”
“For the celebration or the sex?” she teased. Then she flashed a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I’m aware crowds aren’t your thing. Do you trust me to plan something you’ll enjoy?”
“Yes.” He didn’t even have to think about it. When had he become so sure of her?
“That’s a relief, since I’ve started tentatively planning it. There’s only one small problem. For what I had in mind to work, it would have to be on your actual birthday. You mentioned once that if you didn’t spend it with your family, they’d disown you. I assume you were kidding, but...”
“Exaggerating, perhaps, but not wholly kidding. My mother arranges family dinners. My brother Paul managed to miss a few, going to law school out of state and getting the flu one year. Lucky bastard.”
“I don’t suppose you feel like you might be coming down with something?” she asked with a wink.
He grinned at the idea of telling his family he was too sick to show up. With his luck, his mother would send the housekeeper with homemade soup.
Mia reached for her wine, expression pensive. “I’m not trying to cause trouble. Much. But the way you talk about these people... Do you enjoy spending time with them?”
He took a beat to consider her question rather than blurt out a glib answer. “I love my family. They love me. But their love comes with a lot of expectation.” The pressure to succeed in their household had been oppressive, smothering any sense of fun or silly bonding. “Birthdays with them aren’t exactly joyous occasions, they’re more like progress reports, where you explain what you’ve accomplished over the last year of your life.”
Tempting the Best Man Page 11
