by Tessa Teevan
Glancing in the mirror, I decide I’m looking classy yet fun. Sexy and still simple.
For whatever reason, nerves hit me as I walk into the hotel lobby, anxious to see my sister. I don’t think we’ve ever gone two months without seeing each other, and this impending separation is going to blow.
I’m commiserating over the fact that I’m losing my sister to Tennessee, but then the chime of the elevator gets my attention. And there’s my sister, walking off the elevator, looking like a million bucks. Or a woman who’s been thoroughly fucked. Holy hell, a fake engagement suits her.
Her smile is radiant, and the way she leans into the man beside her nearly has me sighing. Without even meeting the guy, he’s already got my stamp of approval.
Because if her expression is any indication, Ari’s already fallen head-over-heels in love with him. And his matches.
I sigh for real this time.
And then I squeal, waving like a maniac, trying to get their attention. It works. She tears herself away from the beefcake at her side and rushes down the hall, throwing her arms around me. When she pulls back, my nose burns as unwanted tears threaten behind my eyes. God, I’ve never seen her this happy.
“Ari, I’m so glad you’re here! I’ve missed you, but it seems the time away has been more than good for you.” Someone’s approaching, and I glance behind her to see Branson joining us. Then I grin back at her. “And I can see why.”
Ari echoes my laughter and loops her arm through her man’s. “Branson, I know you’ve ‘met’ on Skype, but this is my sister. Alyssa, this is Branson.”
I’m ready to throw my arms around him, but he holds his hand out in greeting. Not a hugger. Noted. So we shake, and I eye him. “In the flesh.”
“Back off!” she teases. “Where’s your own Wellington?”
I frown at her words, wondering what the hell she knows. Before I can respond, however, I feel someone’s presence at my side. I paste a broad smile on my face and turn to see…
Shane.
Shock, delight, embarrassment, and heat all course through my veins in simultaneous waves and I nearly falter at the sight of him.
“I’m right here, but last I checked, I wasn’t anyone’s anything,” he says, turning to me with a scowl.
Umm…ouch?
Branson raises an eyebrow and glances between the two of us. Then he clears his throat. “Ah, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll just go and check on reservations.”
Ari looks at me, and I nod, wanting a moment alone with this brute to ensure he doesn’t ruin what could be a perfectly lovely dinner. Even if I want to throw myself into his arms. I resist. Barely.
Here he is, in the flesh and in a place where I can’t run from him. Where’s an Australian winemaker when you need him? My eyes can’t take themselves off the man standing in front of me. Shane Wellington. Pool boy. Wellington Enterprises hotshot. Apparently cousin of my sister’s soon-to-be groom. And oh yeah, taker of my virtue. Well. How about that?
My mind wanders back to the night, God, nearly ten months ago when we first met. I took one look at him, enjoyed a flirty hot tub exchange, and, before I knew what I was doing, handed him my virginity on a silver platter. Or, well, in the form of a keycard.
It was the most intense, magical night of my life.
Until two days later when I discovered he wasn’t quite who he said he was, he was working on the same account that could be career-changing for me, and I panicked. So I ran, never expecting to see him again. I sure as hell wasn’t betting on his cousin marrying my sister.
In hindsight, running was stupid. We were strangers anyway, so who cared if he’d left out a few details? It’s just that, after two incredible days together, I’d felt vulnerable. I’d felt half in love. I’d felt all too much, so I took the first out I could find. It wasn’t until later that I realized I was using work as an excuse instead of examining my true feelings.
A bad habit of mine. And I’ve regretted it ever since.
Flash forward to now? Well, hell. After months of thinking fantasizing about the man, trying like hell not to enjoy his flowers, his wine, or the memory of that night, it seems like those feelings have only intensified now that he’s here. But the truth is I’m shocked to see him. Delighted. And worst of all? Embarrassed. So, drawing up my best defense mechanism, I decide to close my heart and go into direct bitch mode, hoping he can’t see just how much he still affects me.
By the smirk on his face? I’m failing miserably.
The moment Branson and Ariana step out of view, she pounces.
“You!” hisses the pretty brunette, her stunning, whiskey-colored eyes narrowed in my direction.
Typically, I’d back away from a woman with such scorn in her gaze, especially when it’s aimed sorely in my direction. But this girl? She’s been playing hard to get for far too long, and fuck me, she just fell right into my lap thanks my cousin and his fiancée. The fates are definitely smiling on me tonight.
I resist the urge to grin. The last time I was in such close proximity with Alyssa, she ran from me. Now? She’s trapped and wholly caught off guard. I knew we’d see each other again tonight. I planned to play it cool, but being here with her now, when she had no idea what was coming, throws my plan off a bit.
“Me,” I affirm, tossing her a smile, my heart swelling at the sight of her and some strange, foreign twisting sensation settling in my gut. “And this time, sunshine, you can’t run out the back door. This time, you’re mine.”
I don’t think she has any idea how much I mean those two words.
Those narrow eyes suddenly widen, and she shakes her head, pointing a finger at me. “Oh, no. Don’t you think you can go throwing off that sexy smile and I’ll swoon all over again just at the sight of you. I learned my lesson.”
She called me sexy. I suppress a grin and take her hand, bringing it to my lips for a brief kiss against her delicate skin before she yanks it away. No problem. I knew this was going to be a challenge. She’s obviously going to take some convincing to remember how freaking good we were, how freaking good we could be, but I’ll do anything in my power to have this woman in my bed. Back in my bed.
“Isn’t this where you say thank you for the tulips?” I ask, wagging my eyebrows up at her. “Or perhaps the wine? Maybe your preference also lays with moaning.”
Alyssa rolls her eyes. “For your information, I love wine way much more than moans.” She places a hand on her hip and looks at me in challenge.
I lean in close. “Then you haven’t been doing it right. Because I very vividly remember you appreciating a good moan. Especially your own.”
A sweet pink tint heats her cheeks. Just as I’m about to continue my innuendo, we’re interrupted.
Ariana and Branson walk up at this precise second, effectively ending our little showdown. Ariana’s eyes dart back and forth between her seething sister and me, a puzzled expression on her pretty face. Branson, however, is watching us with abject amusement. My cousin. He knows me all too well.
I told him about the one—and not nearly enough—incredible night Alyssa and I spent together over last winter. He’s been ragging on me ever since she ran away from me at the winery. At the time, I didn’t know that her sister was the woman from the hotel. Hell, neither had he, and I make a note to ask him if he even remembers seeing her at the wine bar. No, it wasn’t until Knox’s wedding that the revelation occurred. I don’t think Branson had any idea it was Alyssa. I think he’s clued in now, however.
For whatever reason, Branson makes a show of introductions, and when his fiancée introduces me to her sister, Alyssa plays it off as if I’m of no consequence.
I chuckle and lean down for her only to hear. “Should I tell her I already know you? Intimately?”
She gasps, turning to glare at me. “Be quiet,” she hisses. “It doesn’t matter. She already knows we’ve met before.”
Huh. Though I’m extremely curious about what she may have told her sister—especially because Ariana d
idn’t let on that she knows anything—I decide to let Alyssa have her way. For now. I won’t push. Not yet. Not now that she’s finally, thank fucking God, back in my life. Whether she likes it or not.
I want to put on my mask of indifference… But first things first.
“Shall we?” I ask, offering my curved arm, my slacks already tightening at the thought of her skin once again on mine.
Instead, she elbows me, leans in, and whispers, “I may have fallen for your charms once before, Shane Wellington, and it burned me. It will never happen again. What you and I had? It was practically over before it began. Oh!”
That last little syllable from the spunky beauty is muffled as I pull her close to me, our chests touching, and lower my lips to taste her once again. Fuck me. She’s everything I remember: sweet, passionate. And from the way her lips part to allow my tongue entrance, I know she’s still mine, no matter how much she may want to deny it.
When I pull back, I don’t miss the desire in her hooded eyes. Trailing my fingertips along the curve of her neck, I don’t stop until my lips are hovering over her ear. “Oh, no, sunshine. What we had, what we have, is far from over. That day we spent together was just the tip.”
Her lips part with surprise, and when her little pink tongue darts out to wet them, I nearly lose all my reserve. Before I can retake her mouth, her hands are on my chest, pushing me away. Her heated expression only makes me want her more, and while sitting next to her throughout dinner, not touching her, will be torture, I follow her, ready to get this show on the road.
If Alyssa wants to act indifferent, I can give her a taste of her own medicine.
Something tells me she won’t find it quite as enjoyable as I do.
I’M SHAKEN.
My insides are definitely stirred.
It’s like Shane’s turned into 007 and I’m his favorite drink.
I blush at the memory of him between my legs, because that night? I was definitely the taste he wanted most.
I have to get the mental image of Shane’s tongue out of my head, so I turn to Branson. “So I hear you had the pleasure of meeting our parents today. How’d that go?”
Ariana chokes on the sip of wine she’s just taken. “How’d you hear about that?
I roll my eyes. She’s gone for two months and forgets the way things work down here?
“Are you kidding? As soon as they left your condo, they called me all in an uproar. Thanks for telling me you’re moving to Nashville,” I inform her. I toy with the stem of my wine glass. “Apparently, a lot has happened that you haven’t told me. Care to enlighten me on how a fake engagement turned into you packing up your things and moving in with the guy?”
The growl next to me takes me by surprise. Shane’s eyes have darkened, and he’s leaning across the table towards Branson. “A fake engagement? What the fuck, Branson?”
Oh boy. Apparently, I’ve let loose a can of worms I hadn’t known needed containing.
I squirm under the weight of Branson’s scowl, which is directed first at me and then at Shane. “It’s not fucking fake,” he growls, his voice low and husky.
Ariana’s eyes fill with warmth as she places a hand on Branson’s. It’s like the balm he needs to calm his temper. “Calm down,” she tells him. “She didn’t mean it that way. I haven’t exactly had the chance to tell her everything that happened after the wedding.”
Good God, how much has Ariana been keeping from me? What is this everything and what does it mean for their fake engagement?
I can practically feel Shane stewing beside me, so I’m quick to ask. “What happened after the wedding?”
“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” Shane growls.
The sound shoots shivers down my spine. I shouldn’t like how growly his voice gets when he’s angry. Thoughts of hot, dirty, angry sex flood my mind, and I have to squeeze my thighs together.
Branson sits back in his chair as if defeated. At this point, I’m really fucking confused.
Ariana gives him a soft smile. “Sorry, babe. I should’ve told Lyssa to keep her big mouth shut.”
I protest immediately. “Hey! I didn’t know it was some big secret!”
It’s true. I mean, sure, I knew I wasn’t supposed to tell my parents or Benjamin that it was all a ruse, but this is Branson’s cousin. I just kinda figured he knew. Whoops.
“Seriously? Someone enlighten me already,” Shane insists.
“Fine. I’ll tell you, but you have to promise to keep your mouth shut until I’m finished, and you can’t tell anyone about this.”
Shane nods in agreement and Branson begins. I’m enthralled as he details the night of the accident to just the other day when he apparently made things officially not fake with my sister. I’m guessing he’s leaving out quite a bit of detail—I’ll ask Ari later. She speaks every so often, telling Shane about what happened when Branson was still knocked out at the hospital. Every time Branson says something sweet and pauses to look adoringly at my sister, I sigh. Which just causes Shane to roll his eyes. I don’t even care. Branson’s turning out to be everything my sister deserves, and I couldn’t be happier for them both.
When he’s finished, Branson signals for another drink. Then he then sits back and eyes both Shane and me. “That’s it. The whole story. It may have started out as fake, but it quickly turned into something real. I love her, and that ring on her finger will never come off.”
Shane scoffs, and I want to punch his shoulder. Seriously, he’s killing my love buzz. “You’re telling me no one knows this? Everyone just accepted that you had some hidden-away fiancée?”
“You did, didn’t you?” Branson retorts without a beat.
Shane raises his glass in a silent touché. “True. Still… Don’t you think this is a little sudden? You’ve barely had time to get to know each other. She’s coming off an engagement and you haven’t even been divorced for a year. What the hell’s the rush?”
Ugh, he’s seriously killing the vibe, and I’ve had just enough wine not to let him.
“Don’t mind Shane. He doesn’t believe in love or monogamy.” I have no idea why I said that. For all I know, he’s looking for just that. But he sounds like a cynic and it’s pissing me off. “I think it’s romantic, and I’m happy for you both.”
“Thank you, Alyssa,” Branson says, ignoring his cousin.
His smile is brighter than a thousand watts and I lean forward, my brow raised. “That being said, let me get my obligatory ‘if you hurt my sister, I’ll cut off your nuts’ threat out of the way,” I tease.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Branson tells me.
I want to swoon in my seat as he leans over and kisses my sister’s cheek. I also want him to ask him to give his cousin pointers. Though I doubt Shane needs them.
As another round of drinks is delivered to the table, Shane takes his rocks glass and holds it up. “To the happy couple,” he says, and for a split second, it sounds as if he means it.
He gets through the toast without scoffing, something I feel like commending him for. But that would mean addressing him, and yeah, I’m not about that tonight.
“Well, I will definitely miss you, but I’m thrilled for you both. I’ve never seen my sister happier than I’ve seen her tonight.”
Ari’s eyes well with tears, and man, it’s contagious. “I’ll miss you, too.”
“Okay, okay. None of that,” I laugh, wiping at my eyes. Suddenly, I remember my conversation with Bryan from earlier. “I have a proposition for you. My lease is up, and you know I’ve been having problems with my landlord. What if I rent your condo from you? Then you won’t have to worry about finding a buyer, and you’ll always be able to come home to visit me whenever you want.”
Excitement floods her features. “You mean it?”
I nod, hoping she’s going to agree.
“Yes, definitely. That would be perfect!”
“Looks like everyone’s got everything figured out. Hurray.” The sarcasm dripping
from Shane’s tone isn’t enough to bring me down.
“What’s the matter, Shane? Sad to lose your wingman?” I ask, equally sarcastic. I scan him up and down with feigned interest. Okay, maybe not so feigned.
Branson and Ari, making moon eyes at each other, don’t even notice the way he leans in close. “Of all people, sunshine, I think you know I don’t need a wingman. I do just fine on my own.”
Jealousy burns in my belly when he pulls away and starts a conversation with his cousin. I stew even though this is all my doing. He’s right here, for the taking, and I’m a pain in the ass.
It’s just…complicated.
I’m so lost in the battle waging inside my mind—the devil on one shoulder, the angel on the other—that I don’t realize dinner is over, Branson’s signing the check, and Ari’s getting into her coat. I feel something nudge my knee and look up to see Shane’s—ugh—gorgeous smile. The hungry look in his eyes tells me he knows exactly what I’ve been thinking. My stupid heart flutter when he leans in close yet again, his breath heating my skin.
God, I want him. He knows it. And then, when his lips are hovering just above my ear, he gives me a taste of what I’ve been missing, of what I shouldn’t want, but his whispered words send heat coursing through my blood.
“Damn, sunshine… After all this time apart, I can’t wait to see what happens at the wedding.”
Those words send shivers all the way down to the tips of my toes. His voice is laced with such sweet promise that I immediately want to give in.
The next thing I know, however, we’re all rising to leave. Something burns low in my belly—relief or disappointment, I’m sure. But the fact that I’m still conflicted tells me all I need to know.
