Strip Search

by Erin McCarthy

  Neither one of them really answered that the way they were supposed to and Jackson sighed. “Tell me what you love about Leighton.”

  Leighton’s head snapped up. “I didn’t put that question in there, Jackson. What the heck?”

  Axl was taken aback too, but what the hell, of course that would be a question if any of this were real. He was amused that Leighton was outraged but still couldn’t bring herself to swear. She only seemed to cuss when she either wanted sex or they were having sex. He found that hot.

  Their fingers were entwined, something he didn’t do very often. He wasn’t really a hand-holding guy. But Leighton always seemed so delicate to him. It felt natural to touch each other this intimately. He lifted their hands now and spoke to the camera.

  “We’re a good fit,” he said. He meant that. They’d had a good week. It wasn’t a lie. It was a week he would remember fondly for the rest of his life. God, fondly. That was such a fucking understatement. He sounded like his mother when she referred to being fond of coffee. This was something else entirely. This had been the fastest and hardest he had fallen for any woman ever and he cherished the time together.

  So he turned to speak directly to Leighton. He wanted her to know that while this was not a real engagement, he had enjoyed being with her. Getting to know her. “Leighton is special. She has a huge heart and a consideration for others. The first minute I laid eyes on her I knew she was different.”

  “In what way?” Jackson asked.

  Axl squeezed her hand and stared into her green eyes. “She’s perfect and she has no idea that she is. She’s intelligent, generous, and amazing at her job. She’s as soft and delicate as the roses she loves, yet she has an inner strength I don’t think she even knows she possesses. And I’ve enjoyed every minute of this week with her, falling for her.”

  Leighton bit her lip and without warning there were tears in her eyes. Axl felt it again, that strange protective surge he had around her. He reached up and wiped her eye before the tear fell down her cheek.

  “And Leighton, what do you love about Axl?”

  “He’s a nurturer,” she said, which kneed him in the gut.

  That was the first thing she said about him? It brought up emotions he hadn’t even known he was capable of.

  “And he’s thoughtful and smart and loyal.”

  Axl was overwhelmed and he couldn’t resist. He bent down and kissed her, taking her mouth in a deep passionate kiss that he hoped conveyed everything he felt without having to say it. That she deserved a lifetime of happiness with a house and children and a rose garden of her own.

  That he wanted to be like Bill, and throw caution to the fucking wind and marry her and get her a puppy, but that he couldn’t because his heart was frozen as solid as the lake in February and not even her sunny California smile could thaw it. Not entirely. Not the way she deserved.

  So, he kissed her and willed her to feel it, to understand him, to know that she was something really fucking special.

  When he pulled back, he needed to leave. He couldn’t look at her and keep his shit together. “We’re done here,” he told Jackson. “Go get some rest.” He squeezed Leighton’s hand and dropped it. “Come on. I’ll take you back to your friends. Enjoy your girl time.”

  “I thought you wanted to throw me over your shoulder and kidnap me?” she said, sounding a little hopeful.

  He wanted to do a lot of things. None of them were smart. “At least once this week I need to resist my impulses.” He led her to the door of the bar and yanked it open for her. “I will see you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

  “Yeah. Right.” Leighton shot him a look he couldn’t interpret then marched over to the bar.

  He watched her do a shot with her girlfriends before he made his way back to his poker game.

  He lost his fucking shirt to Sullivan that night.

  Because he was one hundred percent distracted by thoughts of a sweet blonde who looked at him like she could fall in love with him.

  And he wanted her to.

  * * *

  “Zach, I’m so screwed. I’m just so completely and totally screwed.” Leighton paced back and forth in her hotel room. Her mother was texting her asking about the bachelorette night and if she’d had fun and she couldn’t bring herself to answer.

  Fun wasn’t the way to describe it. Knocked on her ass was a better descriptive.

  “Okay, calm down. What’s going on?” Zach looked at himself in the mirror. “This lighting sucks. Where are you getting ready tomorrow? Because this room is not going to cut it. I can’t do your makeup in these conditions.”

  “I don’t care about the lighting. What I care about is that we have a problem. Or rather, I have a problem.”

  “What’s that? If Sandra is currently having sex with the hockey guy, it’s not a big deal. She likes to get her ho on when she’s out of town. She’ll be on time tomorrow, no worries.”

  Leighton didn’t care who her friends had sex with. “Don’t call her a ho. That is not nice. A woman is allowed to have fun.”

  “Got it. As if I would ever judge anyone for multiple sex partners. Including at the same time.”

  He was missing the point. What she cared about was who she was having sex with. Axl. “I’m in love with Axl!” She paused and held her hand to her chest at the very words being spoken out loud. Everything inside her just melted at the thought of him.

  To her it seemed the words hung in the air, like she’d grabbed a bullhorn and set it off along with the most outrageous statement ever made.

  Zach did not agree. He looked one hundred percent blasé. “Well, duh. We knew that was going to happen.”

  For a second, she was stunned.

  Then she realized he had a good point. “What am I supposed to do now?” Leighton sighed as she remembered what he’d said to her in that interview outside of Tap That. “He’s just so… everything. He’s romantic and sexy and strong and caring and…”

  Zach stood up straight and eyed her. “Am I going to have to slap you? That’s usually what happens at this point. Or throw a drink in your face.”

  “Why the hell would you throw a drink in my face?” she asked, peeling her sweater off and throwing it on the dresser. She was burning up for no apparent reason. “I think we can skip that step.”

  “To talk sense into you.” Zach reached out for her.

  Leighton dodged him, alarmed. “Don’t you dare shake or slap me. I’m not that hysterical.”

  “I was going to hug you, I swear.”

  Not sure she should trust him, she let him draw her into his arms. It was actually a genuine, reassuring hug. “What do I do?” she asked him again.

  “You get fake married tomorrow and have amazing wedding night sex. Then, you lay your heart on the line and see what happens.”

  “I can’t do that!” Axl had made it clear he was in this short term, nothing more.

  “Then you get fake married, have great wedding sex, fake break up and come home to LA with a happy vagina and move on with your life.”

  “I guess I could do that,” she said, even though she felt grumpy about it. “Even though it sucks. But that is my only option, isn’t it?”

  “You could skip the wedding and the wedding night sex all together and do the fake breakup first.”

  “That sounds even less like what I want.” She definitely wanted the sex. “I want one last night with Axl.”

  “Lies. You don’t want one last night with him. You want indefinite nights with him.”

  “I do.” She sighed.

  Then she realized she was supposed to say those words the next day to his face and she looked at Zach. “Feel free to slap me now. I think I need it.”

  “I’m not going to slap you. I’m going to put you to bed so you can get some quality sleep. Then I’m going to do your hair and makeup in the morning and you’re going to be so fucking hot that man will wish he could marry you for real.”

  It wasn’t much of a plan but it was the
only one she had. “And then what?”

  “You break his heart before he breaks yours.”

  Probably too late for that. Hers felt pretty darn cracked.

  Thirteen

  Leighton hadn’t slept one lousy wink and the morning was a blur of coffee and robes and makeup and girlfriends and her mother delicately crying so as not to screw up her false eyelashes. She kept thinking about her parents, and Axl’s parents, and Bill and Soon-ja and the sanctity of marriage.

  Of the fact that on the other side of town, in a stone church, Winnie was marrying Todd, some of the wind taken out of her sails.

  Bill’s property was stunning. Her team had set up a gorgeous tent with floral chandeliers and boundless pink accents. Servers had handed guests a glass of champagne upon arrival. It was perfect. Exactly what she would want if she were really getting married.

  Which she wasn’t.

  Yet she was standing in a gown that she freaking loved, if she were honest, and her grandmother’s lace veil from Germany that her father had surprised her with. She’d had the very awkward moment where she had had to tell her father she did not want him to walk her down the aisle because it was essentially a single-file arch and aisle. The real reason being she didn’t want to waste that special moment on a fake ceremony. If and when she did get married, she wanted to hang on to her father’s arm and see his joy.

  She thought, quite simply, she might throw up.

  There were cameras everywhere, which further contributed to the feeling that this was just a big production. Which it was.

  Yet the rose archway was in front of her and she was frozen. She could not bring herself to step through Soon-ja’s flowers and into a greenhouse only to be a faker.

  She stood there and stood there. She paced a little.

  The music started twice. She could hear the guests starting to murmur and shuffle restlessly.

  Forcing herself forward, she took three steps and spotted Axl at the front of the greenhouse. She froze again, actually bumping into Jackson, who had his camera in her face. He lowered it.

  Are you okay? He mouthed.

  She shook her head.

  She turned, planning to retreat and get the heck out of there but there was staff and two cameramen crawling all over the entrance to the arch. Feeling trapped, like she was either going to descend into a full-blown panic attack or vomit in the grass, she did the only thing she could.

  Leighton lifted her skirt and took off up the aisle.

  * * *

  Standing at the makeshift altar waiting for Leighton was the scariest thing Axl had ever done besides combat. He was sweating bullets and feeling shit he had no business feeling.

  “Are you okay?” Rick asked him, standing beside him. Rick stepped slightly in front of Axl to block him from the guests’ watchful eyes. “You don’t have to do this, buddy. I can spin a story while you slip out the front.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on with me, man,” he told Rick. “But I feel like maybe there’s more to this than I thought.” He rubbed his jaw and said, “There’s just something about Leighton. I just think… I don’t know. I feel like I need to go talk to her.”

  To say what, he had no idea. But he needed to see her.

  Rick’s eyebrows shot up. “Dude, you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

  That took him aback. “What? No. Of course not.” They’d known each other a week. It was ridiculous. He didn’t fall in love that easily.

  No one fell in love that easily. That was for movies and reality TV. Not life.

  Yet when he glanced behind Rick and saw Leighton standing under the arch of roses, looking absolutely stunning from head to toe, he doubted everything he’d ever known about love and relationships and his future.

  Holy shit, she was beautiful.

  And if he wasn’t in love with her now, he sure in the hell could be soon.

  She was wearing a form-fitting dress that showed off all her curves to advantage, nipping in at the waist and hugging her hips. It was sparkling and bridal and yep, there was cleavage. All the cleavage in the world. The veil on her head made her look like an angel. A vision in white, surrounded by pink flowers.

  His bride.

  For a second he seriously could not breathe.

  They weren’t just playing with fire here, they were juggling with dynamite.

  Because everything about this was so wrong and so right and so completely ass backwards that he didn’t know how he could do this without talking to Leighton first and telling her everything that was running through his head.

  He was about to start down the aisle to her, to say what, he had no idea.

  But Leighton beat him to the punch. She picked up her skirt with one hand and started running. Stunned, he just watched her.

  “What the hell is she doing?” Rick asked, bewildered.

  The guests were all giving gasps and exclamations. Jackson was running after her, camera up, as were two other guys behind him left and right. Leighton tossed her bouquet of flowers into her mother’s lap as she ran up to him.

  And right past him.

  What the fuck was going on?

  Axl reached out and grabbed Leighton by the arm, whirling her around. Panic was written all over her features.

  “Sweetheart, what are you doing?” he asked, trying to pull her close to him. “Talk to me.”

  “I made a huge mistake,” she whispered frantically. “This isn’t me. I can’t do this.”

  He knew exactly what she meant. He was feeling the same way. This wasn’t them. All the cameras, the elegance, the fuss.

  The fakeness.

  Speaking of cameras, one popped up over his shoulder. He turned and glared at Jackson. “Get that out of my face or I’ll break it.”

  “I need to get the shot.”

  Axl pushed the camera down so he could see Jackson’s face. “Back the fuck off. Now.”

  When he turned back to Leighton she was breathing hard and swiping at her veil, which had dragged across her cheek. “I have to get out of here, Axl. Seriously.”

  “Are you saying you don’t want to do this?” What shocked him was how much that made his heart drop into his gut.

  “I want this to be real,” Leighton said. She looked up at him with her heart in her eyes, and he saw his future. “Is this real?”

  “No, it’s not real.” He opened his mouth to expound on that. To tell her that it could be real.

  But Leighton gave a cry of dismay and ripped herself out of his grip. She ran out of the back of the greenhouse, jumping off the back ledge and twisting her ankle.

  “Leighton!” He ran after her, scared. He didn’t know where she thought she was going and he wanted a chance to talk to her. To explain.

  “Holy shit,” someone said from behind him.

  “Do not follow them,” he heard Rick order the cameraman.

  A woman was wailing and trying to get through the crowd. A glance back showed it was Barbie dressed to the nines, slapping at her husband, who was keeping her from running after Leighton. “Let me go to my baby!”

  It was chaos and drama and something he could honestly say he would have never thought he would be a part of in his entire lifetime.

  Leaping off the stairs down into the grass he went after Leighton. She had thrown her veil off and abandoned her shoes so she could run faster, but she was wearing a skin-tight dress and it wasn’t easy to move in that thing. He caught up with her within fifteen feet.

  But when he went to grab her hand and stop her, she slapped at her. “Get away from me.”

  And tripped. He tried to catch her, but she was off-balance from her narrow skirt. He moved, intending to brace her fall. His foot got caught in her long train and he went down, Leighton falling onto his chest. After the initial rough contact, air pushing out of both of their lungs, Axl was not disappointed in the position. Her chest was spilling out of the dress, giving him a hell of a view.

  “Talk to me,” he said. “What’s going o
n?”

  But Leighton shoved off of his chest, hauled herself to her feet and took off again. For a second he lay there wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now. Then he jumped up because damn it, she was going to talk to him. She was going to listen to him.

  Because he was falling in love with Leighton and she had to hear it from him.

  So he reached her for the second time. Only this time he didn’t give her an opportunity to escape. He bent his knees, picked up Leighton with one arm under her ass, and threw her over his shoulder. She was shrieking and kicking. He ignored her and marched her down to the dock. He stepped onto Bill’s boat, knowing the keys were always under the seat, and plunked her down on a cushion.

  “What are you doing?” Leighton asked, looked indignant.

  At least her panic seemed to have receded.

  “I’m taking you out on the lake so that I can tell you how I feel without you running away.” He fired up the motor and untied the boat. A minute later they were pulling away from shore.

  Leighton pushed her veil out of her face and threw her bouquet at him. “Let me off this boat!”

  It was so unlike her he just stared at the flowers after they bounced off his chest and tumbled to the ground.

  He hoped someday this would be a funny story about how he had kidnapped his bride.

  Right now he had no clue how any of this was going to shake out.

  “You look beautiful,” he told her. “I like the dress.” He reached out automatically and drew a finger across her shoulders. She let him, which made him smile. “And I like you.”

  * * *

  Leighton wanted to kick Axl. He was smiling. Like this was all so damn funny. She was miserable, her heart breaking, and he was smiling. She sat on the bench and crossed her arms over her chest. Bill’s lawn was crowded with wedding guests, all staring at their departure. Their voices, all in shocked tones, were creating a collective hum. She couldn’t understand what anyone was saying but it was clear her dashing off had rocked the crowd.

  She had flat-out panicked, then Axl hadn’t given her the answer she wanted, and now she was both broken-hearted and humiliated and she wanted to kick him in the crotch for making her fall in love with him.