Andi was only twelve at the time, and the damage done to the preteen by her father’s betrayal of the family was long lasting. Not even the kindness of her stepdad, Steve, made much of a difference. Until Kyle came along, she’d been engaging in a farce of emotionless relationships that were little better than a shadowy blip on the radar screen.
“It would take at least two world-class Bloody Marys to loosen the stick up my mother’s ass.”
Andi’s sardonic comment was so funny and titillating that they all cracked up at the same time.
“Oh, look.”
Sam’s head snapped up at her friend’s gushing yelp.
“Here comes Ryan.”
As all eyes turned to where Andi was gesturing, Sam’s heart did a dance. Gladiator Man was walking their way.
The first thing she noticed was the way his eyes crinkled at the edges when a warm smile broke out on his face. Kyle was waving to him, and Andi clapped with delight as he neared.
Then, everything in her life changed when his eyes swung to her. She saw a flash—so quick it was gone in an instant—but not before Sam felt a blast of heat hit her broadside from just a look.
Oh. My. God.
His eyes never strayed from Sam’s face. Walking straight to her, she felt her heart’s drumbeat thudding in her throat.
Feeling trapped in the tractor beam of his gaze, she tried to swallow, but there wasn’t enough saliva in her mouth. A loud hum vibrated through her body, increasing the closer he got.
Finally, when he stopped at the table, his eyes still glued to her, Sam belatedly realized her head had fallen back on her neck as she sat there helplessly gaping up at him.
If drool were to suddenly drip off her chin, she wouldn’t have been surprised in the least.
On his list of things he despised were women who reacted to him as if he had the words sex toy tattooed on his face. He’d had enough of that shit in his life. After spending a couple of years modeling, Ryan developed a keen understanding of what it was like to be regarded as an object with one purpose.
The chick with the coconut-sized implants and way-too-obvious hair extensions propositioning him so blatantly when he stopped at the bar turned his stomach.
“Join me for a midnight hula lesson?” she’d growled.
“Sorry, sweet cakes,” he’d bit out. “I’m gay.”
Watching her face fall was worth the price of admission, and he was certain the throwaway line would earn him some breathing space.
The champagne ordered, he made his way to the table after spying Andrea perched on Kyle’s lap. His mood lightened at the sight of them.
He was so fucking happy for Kyle. Andi was a keeper. The farthest thing on the planet from a golf groupie, she had a way of cutting Kyle’s ego down to size and leveling the playing field with surprising finesse.
Smiling broadly, he was weaving through the other tables when his eyes stopped wandering at the sight of what he interpreted was the most beautiful girl in the world.
Thunderstruck, his heart did a triple-tap, and he had difficulty swallowing.
Who was she?
At night on the dimly lit terrace, she appeared almost otherworldly from the soft shadows cast by the surrounding palms. When she turned toward him, the flare from a nearby torch illuminated her face and bounced off the glittering gold she wore.
The distance between them wasn’t too great for him to see she had light colored eyes. He wondered if they’d be gray or light blue and felt his steps pick up speed as an intense thrum of curiosity spurred him forward.
Right at that moment, not even a volcano eruption could draw his attention away from the golden girl staring back at him.
She had shoulder length dark brown hair with mahogany highlights accented by the flickering torchlight. Delicately arched brows, a very cute nose, and a mouth he was sure would tempt his self-restraint sent signals to his dormant libido. The only reason he wasn’t barreling at her like a freight train so he could claim the quiet beauty for himself was Ryan’s belief he’d have a heart attack if he didn’t get control of himself, and fast.
It was excruciatingly difficult to pry his eyes off her startled expression, but he managed somehow. Just barely.
“Andrea,” he exclaimed. “You look marvelous! As always.”
His cousin’s bride blushed and squirmed, giving him the perfect next line.
“Although I’m bummed to see you sitting on that old pervert’s lap. Thought maybe you’d come to your damn senses by now.”
“Ryan,” she replied with a throaty drawl. “Please refrain from disparaging my husband-to-be in front of me.”
“Or what?” he taunted with real glee as he bent over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
The jubilant, almost victorious look on her face didn’t go unnoticed, but he wasn’t prepared for the curveball she threw straight at him.
“Or my BFF will kick your ass.” Smiling with obvious delight, she took him by the arm and physically turned him until he faced the golden girl across the table.
“Ryan Sommerfield, best man, meet Samantha Evers, maid of honor.”
They stared at each other for who the fuck knows how long. Finally, they blinked in synchronized mimicry.
“Um, hi,” offered the quiet stunner in a soft, silky voice.
How he stayed standing was a miracle because a hell-fire missile of skin-prickling lust exploded in his core the second he heard her small voice.
He wanted to have her. With no preliminaries. Just push her down onto a lounger and strip her naked. Involuntarily salivating, he imagined a thatch of mahogany curls where his tongue and cock wanted to be.
She blinked and flushed scarlet red as if she’s heard his lewd thoughts. Keeping his shit together got harder than his dick with each passing moment.
In a fugue state of sexual awareness that had Ryan by the balls, he saw himself reach for her hand, which she shakily extended. The second their palms touched, a jolt like an electrical charge shot up his arm and into his neck.
“Samantha,” he murmured.
She stared at him looking helpless and out of her comfort zone. Observant and aware, he was good at reading people. It was the artist in him. He saw her breathing change and watched as she chewed on her lip. He also knew she had felt the electric charge by the way she gasped as his hand engulfed hers.
If anyone else was talking, he couldn’t hear them. Not when every second of his life coalesced in this one transformative moment.
Holding fast to her small hand, his mind filled with a jumble of romantic imagery. Samantha Evers was put on this earth to be his.
“Oh,” she said on an exhale. “Um, Sam. I’m, uh, just Sam.”
Kyle snickered. So did his fiancée. Ryan couldn’t care less.
Feeling like every goddamn romantic hero he’d ever seen, Ryan sandwiched her hand between both of his and turned on the charm full blast. This girl was worth whatever sort of standing on his head he’d have to do.
“Samantha,” he chided playfully. “Such a beautiful name. It’s a shame to shorten it.”
She blushed. He drew her closer and leaned down to speak quietly. “I think I’ll call you Wicked Samantha.”
“Wha-what?”
He had her. She was hanging on his next words.
“It’s wicked of you to outshine the bride.” He winked and put on a big smile. Gently squeezing her captive fingers, he straightened as she let out a soft laugh and wrestled her hand away.
Ryan wasn’t sure what he expected next, but it wasn’t laughter. She was pointing at Andi and snickering. “Oh! I get it now. Fire extinguisher,” she howled with glee.
Andi’s response was an amusing laugh as she leaned forward and high-fived her friend. “I know, right?”
Kyle sat there quietly chuckling and made a production out of caressing his bride-to-be’s ass.
Making a fast assessment of the seating arrangement, he pushed a chair close to Samantha and lowered. His mom would approve that
they sat boy, girl, boy, girl. Only one of the boys had a girl on his lap, and the other was intent on staking out his territory.
In a stroke of perfect timing, a waiter appeared with one of the busboys to set up an ice bucket and place four champagne flutes on the table.
“Compliments of the best man,” the waiter informed the table with a slight nod in Ryan’s direction.
Both girls laughed happily and sat forward in expectation. Champagne had a way of doing that with the ladies. Kyle, on the other hand, flipped him the bird. “Compliments of the best man, my ass. Bet that’s going on my tab, isn’t it, you prick?”
“First one’s on me, shithead. After that, it’s all you.”
After pouring the first toast, the waiter and his helper blended silently into the night. Ryan reached for his glass and leaned casually until he was close enough to Samantha that whispering was easy.
“Shit.” He chuckled as the hair hanging next to her ear moved from his breath. “I suck at toasts. I’ll take that ass kicking Andi threatened if you help me out.”
Her head turned slightly so their faces were mere inches apart and his earlier question was answered. Her eyes were a crystal blue, and they were turning smoky right in front of him.
“A graphic designer who can’t make a toast?” she teased.
He liked feeling her soft breath on his skin. Her voice filled with amusement, she ended every sentence she spoke by chewing her lip. Ryan silently counted to ten as a way to keep from running his thumb across the puffy flesh.
“I’m a visual guy,” he answered. For a few seconds, he let his eyes drift over every inch of her he could see. “If you like painstaking detail, I’m your man.”
She uncrossed her legs and then re-crossed them the other way. He studied her for a second, knowing that one day he’d be sketching those legs in a raunchy pose, and stowed the thought away.
They had an audience, and she was hardly a game player. For the first time in his life, he grasped the full meaning of seduction. Getting to know her, finding out what her temptations were, and using them to cause her surrender had him making a plan. But in the meantime . . .
Handing Samantha her glass, he motioned her to raise it like his and follow along. “Thanks, you two,” he said in a clear, firm voice. “Now, I know what happiness looks like.”
He looked down at Samantha and encouraged her with a nodding smile. She hesitated then made a funny face. As her eyes comically rolled, she drawled, “What he meant to say was, Andi and Kyle, thanks for including us in your special day. We wish you love, laughter, and a happily ever after. Salud!”
Well, damn! The girl could think on her toes. He liked that.
After a few more silly toasts, Kyle looked at Samantha and smirked. “Disappointed about the board shorts?”
Her answering snort of laughter was the cutest thing he’d heard in forever.
“Private joke?” Ryan teased.
Kyle smirked some more and then focused all his attention on Andi who was prattling on and on about wedding shit. For the moment, he and Samantha were on their own.
She surprised him by taking the lead. “In what world are you a graphics designer? Did GQ run out of pages or something?”
In anyone else’s mouth—particularly Ms. Coconut Breasts at the Bar—her words would sound like a come-on. But Samantha Evers struck him as the sort of woman who would have to Google come-ons and then put the best ones in a list on her phone. Where they’d forever sit unused because she just didn’t operate that way.
No, her question was entirely straightforward. Add ‘delightful’ to the list of her many attributes.
“Design is in my blood, and GQ is not all it’s cracked up to be.”
“What’s that mean?” Her eyes were a vibrant smoky blue.
“Which part? What I feel or the other thing?”
“I think you know.”
Somehow, this unexpected enchantress had gone straight to the heart of him. It was unnerving and exhilarating at the same time.
“My folks will tell you I was a design prodigy. Something about blowing their minds with an Etch-a-Sketch.”
She chuckled and sipped at her champagne.
“I’m the obnoxious guy who scribbles stuff on napkins and paper bags. Once I got my hands on a computer, well. . .pfft.”
“Okay.”
He felt his brow rise without any conscious effort on his part. Beautiful, funny, and damn smart too. No way was she easily pushed off topic.
Ryan shrugged. After a long sip of the chilled bubbly, he met her curious gaze. “People clutching a MacBook with awesome design skills are a dime a half dozen. The market was saturated with guys like me. Around the time I was coming to the conclusion that my life was going to be about scraping by and humping for clients, providence tapped me on the shoulder.”
This time, she was raising her brows.
“In my senior year in college, I got sucked into doing one of those cheesy calendars. College hunks or something like that. Later, whenever I needed a quick infusion of survival funds, I’d take some modeling jobs. One thing led to another and before long, I was standing next to the Tivoli fountain in an Armani tux having my picture taken.”
“I knew it!” Samantha’s laugh was contained so only the two of them were involved.
He smiled. It was the first time he smiled thinking about that time of his life in god only knows how long.
Samantha’s laughter grew infectious, and she moved close enough to grab his wrist. “Please tell me there’s an underwear ad out there somewhere starring you.”
What? Shocked, he exploded with laughter.
“What’s so damn funny?” Kyle asked now that Ryan had drawn his attention.
“She wants to know if there’s an underwear ad.”
The table erupted in rollicking laughter as a series of awful, ribald jokes around the teeny tiny designer’s underwear in an ad campaign he’d starred in got tossed around.
“Wait, wait!” Andi yelped after blowing her nose and wiping away tears of laughter. “Here,” she said as she whipped her cell phone out of thin air. “I keep it in my pictures.”
Kyle groaned at her admission and slapped a hand over his eyes.
Just as Ryan drawled, “Seriously?” she held up her phone and shoved it in Samantha’s face.
Her reaction was as funny as the jokes. Barely managing not to spew champagne like a fire breather, she very nearly choked on her drink. Her eyes widened and bugged out as she squinted at the tiny picture on the screen.
Ordinarily, by this time, when he was under intense scrutiny for something he’d done as a young twenty-something, Ryan would be chafing as irritation wracked him. He wasn’t embarrassed by the photographic endorsement of his manly attributes. Not at all.
What ground his gears was the pantomime of ogling that broke out and how a single photo automatically separated people into two distinct groups. Guys who basically wanted to punch his lights out and women who wanted to fuck him.
All those feelings were nowhere to be found at the moment because he was completely wrapped up in what the expression being on pins and needles really meant.
Kyle loaded up his drawled comment with an assload of sarcasm. “Easy, girls. Age deflates a balloon, if you catch my drift.”
Ryan shot him a fuck you death glare, downed the rest of his champagne, and went back to waiting for Samantha to do what every woman did.
After a good long look at Andi’s phone, Samantha sat back and carefully placed her champagne flute on the table. She didn’t look at him and kept her face averted, but he could still make out the blush staining her cheeks.
“I think the cat’s got her tongue.” Andi snickered. Fanning herself with diva-ish flair, she went a step further. “Either that or she’s burning up.”
Samantha shot out of her seat and stood up so fast, he moved back to give her room.
“Andrea,” she barked like a drill sergeant. “Ladies’ room. Now.” A sharp snap of her
fingers and the way she pointed had Andi responding to the command. Without a glance at either man, both women locked arms and stomped along the pathway to the restrooms.
He watched their retreat and committed to memory the delicious vision his quiet beauty made. When she had stood up, he saw that the shimmery golden top had an open back and was part of a sexy dress with a short flouncy skirt that bounced and swayed as she walked.
The temptation of legs that went on for miles emptied his brain of rational thought. Her shoes, heeled strappy things, were the icing on the cake of his desire for the cute, quirky stunner.
As they disappeared from view, his head whipped around and he pinned his cousin to the spot with a fierce stare.
“Is this a setup?”
“Honest to god, Andi. When were you planning to tell me Kyle’s cousin is an underwear model?”
“He’s a designer, Sami. A graphics designer. And a damn good one too. The modeling thing was a long time ago.”
The half-assed shrug and the way Andi leaned close to the mirror as she inspected her lipstick set her back a bit.
Hesitating, as her mind tried to make sense of the unfolding events, she crossed her arms and began to pace back and forth.
The facts were clear. Andi was playing matchmaker. And maybe Kyle too. A feeling of familiar exasperation swirled inside her. Why did everyone think a hookup was the answer?
Andi finished primping and turned to watch her. Sam caught the brief flash of a smug smile playing around her freshly lipsticked mouth and stopped to give her a look.
The look. The one that said, ‘Uh-huh. Nice try.’
“What is your problem, Samantha? Get a grip, girlfriend. Look around. We’re literally,” she exclaimed with deliberate emphasis, “in paradise. Palm trees, hot bare-chested men bringing our drinks.” She motioned with her head. “The beach beyond the trees. A beautiful tropical night and a river of champagne.”
Sam arched a brow, pursed her lips, and went for full outrage mode as she slapped her hands to her waist. “And where exactly is this going in your imagination?”
Throwing some peeved arm waving into the mix, Andi exhaled sharply and stared her down.
The Wedding Affair (The Affair Series Book 2) Page 4
