“I’m going to tell Robbie that I’ll do it, that I’ll play along. I’ll be….what’s his name again?”
“Jason.” The name came out as a whisper and Mark’s gut clenched in a mix of jealousy and rage that the man’s mere name could bring such pain and hurt to her entire demeanor. Who the hell was this guy that he could hurt someone as sweet and guileless as this woman.
And that’s when it dawned on him. The thought that put his guilty conscience to rest and made him feel….well, maybe not noble, but like he might not be a total asshole. He would help her. Clearly she needed to get over this Jason jackass just as much as he needed to get over her. This could be a win-win. He would help her to move on—everyone knew that to move on you needed to have a rebound. A meaningless fling. He could be that for her. And he’d get her out of his system in the meantime.
He’d take it slow—she was vulnerable right now, anyone could see that. He’d stroke her ego, help her regain her self-confidence. And when she was ready, he’d help her take that crucial, necessary step to closure by being her rebound.
His plan was perfect.
Her gorgeous blue eyes were filled with pitiful pleading. “Please don’t make me do this.”
Oh crap. He hadn’t counted on her appealing to his good nature. The fact that she even thought he had one was cute.
No, no, no. This was not the Elizabeth he knew was in there. This was the kowtowed, unassuming little sister talking, not the spirited pixie he’d met the other night and not the feisty minx he’d seen in her classroom.
But he knew exactly how to draw her out.
Leaning on his elbows, he cocked his head to the side. “What’s the matter? You think I’m right and I’ll get the lovebirds to break up before the wedding?”
Voila! There she was. Eyes narrowed, her lips pursed into an adorable scowl. “Of course not.”
Mark shook his head. “I can understand why you’d be afraid. Robbie and I go way back. He trusts me. He listens to me. I bet you anything I can make him realize what a mistake this is by the time the PR stunt is done.”
He watched her draw in a deep breath and forced his eyes to remain above her chest.
“Is that a challenge?”
Mark shrugged.
Elizabeth’s chair made a scraping noise as she pushed it back to stand. “Fine. I’ll take part in this stupid plan.” Her voice had risen to the point that the few patrons at the other end of the bar were staring. “My sister will have her dream wedding and she’ll marry the man she loves. Nothing you can do will change that.”
He watched her storm out and couldn’t help but laugh. She really was gorgeous when she was pissed.
Chapter Four
Elizabeth squared off with herself two days later in her bathroom mirror. She applied her powder and blush with more force than necessary as she gave herself a mental pep talk.
She could do this. No one expected her to do much more than smile and nod like a marionette. Mark would do the hard part. He seemed to thrive on lies.
Studying her reflection with a critical eye, she drew in one last deep breath before she headed out. All four of them were set to meet the show’s producer for dinner. Robbie was going to pick up Mark so at least she was spared a painful car ride alone with him.
She honestly didn’t know how she was going to face him at dinner. A full forty-eight hours had passed and she was still fuming over his comments the other day. The fact that he was so blatantly ready to destroy a happy couple’s big day was infuriating. And insane! He may love his best friend but he had a ridiculous notion of how to show it.
And what had she been thinking taking on his challenge?
Elizabeth exhaled loudly. Too late to have second thoughts now. Besides, this was for the best. Connie would have her dream wedding. This was the selfless, generous thing to do.
And if she got to watch Mark try and fail at his ridiculous attempt to break them up in the process? All the better.
The others were all there when she arrived, including the producer, who was a young, pleasant-looking man with a fantastically white smile. She shook his hand and smiled dutifully as Mark pulled out her chair for her.
See? She could do this.
But then he leaned over and kissed her cheek and a jolt of electricity shot through her, making her jerk. Connie shot her a warning glare and she glanced over in time to catch Mark’s smirk.
Connie led the conversation, with Mark—aka Jason—chiming in every now and again with something clever and witty that had everyone laughing. Everyone but her. She couldn’t laugh, she was too busy eyeing her fake fiancé.
He looked good. Really, really good. He’d shaved the scruffy five o’clock beard that she’d been starting to think was a permanent fixture. Not that she didn’t like his scruff. She did. Too much, possibly. But now he was clean-cut and his hair was neat—another first, as far as she knew. He looked….sleek. Like a professional, an adult. Not the slacker man-child she’d come to know and despise.
And he smelled good. Too good. Like sandalwood or cloves or something. She couldn’t place it but it was earthy and manly and…heavenly. Sitting next to one another at the cozy back table of the fancy Italian restaurant her sister had chosen, they were inches apart and she could feel the heat radiating from him like he was a furnace.
A little part of her wondered what would happen if she moved just a bit, just enough so their thighs brushed, or their hands.
He turned to her then with a brilliant smile that crinkled his eyes, taking him from hot to unbelievably sexy. “Right, sweetheart?” he said.
Elizabeth blinked, then nodded quickly with a smile. “Mmm-hmm.”
What the hell had she just agreed to? She glanced at Connie, who looked pleased as punch at whatever Mark had just said and she breathed a sigh of relief. Okay, so she probably hadn’t agreed to join a cult or something, that was good news.
That interruption was exactly what she’d needed to remember where she was and why. And it was certainly not to drool over her fake fiancé as they talked about the wedding that would never happen.
She waited for the now-familiar stab of aching pain to sweep through her at the reminder of Jason, and their wedding plans, and everything she had lost.
It never came. Maybe it was the distraction of taking part in a scheme worthy of I Love Lucy but instead of a stabbing ache, she just felt a dull throb. She drained the last of her wineglass. Huh. Maybe getting conned into playing this game had its benefits after all.
The waiter was efficient, she could say that much. The moment she set down her empty glass, he refilled it. And then again.
“This wine is delicious,” she said to the table at large. “Who picked it out?”
“I did,” Mark said with a lazy smile. “I picked it for you, I know it’s your favorite.”
He placed his hand over hers and despite her buzz, Elizabeth was still with it enough to remember that she needed to smile sweetly in return since the producer was watching. In fact, she could do more than that if she wanted.
It had to have been the wine talking. That must be it. Because without thinking it through, she leaned over and placed a soft, quick kiss on his lips. As if they really were in love. It was what she would have done if it really was Jason sitting here next to her, treating her like a princess, placing an arm around her shoulders, offering his jacket when she looked cold.
But it wasn’t Jason, it was Mark, and the brief, sweet contact of his warm lips against hers was sobering. She pulled back quickly to see him grinning at her, looking for all the world like a lovestruck fiancé. And for one moment—one fleeting, stupid, drunken moment, she wanted it to be real. All of it. She wanted to be helping Connie plan this ridiculous wedding and she wanted to be sitting next to the love of her life. She ached to be loved in the way that Mark was pretending to love her.
Oh, not by Mark. Of course not by him. He was a near stranger and an asshole, by all appearances. But even this jerk’s pretend version of l
oving her warmed her in a way she hadn’t felt in ages. Too long.
Even when she and Jason were together and supposedly stable, when was the last time he’d looked at her like she was the only person in the room? When had he treated her this well?
And just like that, the stabbing ache was back. But not for Jason and not for their non-marriage. She could feel herself mourning the relationship they didn’t have. The lies she’d told herself. The tepid relationship she’d settled for.
Because it had been comfortable.
“You okay?” Mark’s gaze held hers and there was a little crease between his eyebrows as he gave her a questioning look. He kept his voice soft as he leaned toward her and repeated the question. “You okay?”
She inhaled sharply. “Yes, fine. I’m fine.” She spoke too quickly and just a touch too loudly as well, if her sister’s sharp look was anything to go by.
The new heartbreaking realization about the sad state of her relationship—her former relationship—made her chest tight and breathing difficult. Please God, get me the hell out of here.
God didn’t answer, but Mark did. Leaning over the table he tossed a wad of money in Robbie’s direction. “So sorry to be a killjoy, folks, but I’m afraid I have an early day in the emergency room tomorrow.”
Emergency room? That was a new twist to the lie. Elizabeth found herself watching Mark say their goodbyes and make their excuses as if she was watching a soap opera on TV. It was vaguely amusing to see what lies he would come up with next but it felt distant from her life. She was a casual observer.
Until he reached out to help her stand as well.
Oh right, she would probably be leaving with her fiancé. It wasn’t until they were out the door of the restaurant that she realized what he’d done. He’d saved her. She was free! Away from the prying eyes of the producer and her sister’s watchful gaze.
Inhaling deeply, she turned to thank him but never got the chance. He was right behind her when she spun around and before she could open her mouth, he pulled her against him and his lips pressed against hers.
* * *
What was he doing? He had a fleeting thought that this was not going according to plan—but then it was too late. She was in his arms and her lips were under his.
And they were soft. So soft. And sweet. He could taste the wine she’d been drinking as his lips claimed hers like he’d been aching to do from the moment she’d leaned over and given him that light peck earlier.
He’d been obsessed with kissing her again. Properly this time.
Was it stupid? Absolutely. He had a plan and it was to woo her—slowly and gently, so as not to spook her. The plan was not to ravage her outside of a restaurant. But he’d done it anyway, and now? Well, now he was lost. His lips moved over hers with an urgency he couldn’t name. He nipped at her bottom lip and teased her with his tongue, urging her to open to him. He needed her to respond, to want this as badly as he did. This was beyond stupid, it was insanity.
After a split second she did respond. Tentatively at first, her lips moving to meet his, to reciprocate. But then, like a switch was flipped, she met him kiss for kiss, her lips moving with the same heated desperation, feeding the fire that was already raging out of control in his body.
All thoughts were lost to the blazing desire that had him holding her closer, moving his free hand over her back, her neck, and tangling in her hair so he could press her to him.
She let out a soft moan when his tongue teased her lips and slipped inside. She tilted her head back, giving him more access to her sweet warmth and Mark was well and truly lost.
She was so soft in his arms. Her curves pressed against him in all the right places and her heady scent was intoxicating. Her arms wrapped around him and she made a whimpering sound as his lips left hers to trail kisses down her neck.
“Ahem.” The noisy fake throat clearing made him freeze.
Elizabeth took it a step further by leaping out of his arms as though she’d been electrocuted. Her face was the very picture of shock but she wasn’t looking at him, she was staring over his shoulder.
Turning slowly, he found himself face to face with a surprised Robbie, a catatonic Connie, and a thoroughly entertained producer. “You two really are a cute couple,” the producer laughed as he clapped a hand on Mark’s shoulder.
He kept heading toward the parking lot but called over his shoulder, “Wish we’d had the cameras rolling for that one.”
The ensuing silence was awkward to say the least. No one wanted to speak with the producer within earshot but the moment he disappeared from view, everyone seemed to talk at once.
“Dude,” Robbie muttered under his breath. Mark could see his friend suppressing a smile.
“Lizzie!” Connie hissed. “What. Are. You. Doing?”
At the same time, Elizabeth backed away from him, her face beet red. “I can explain….” Her voice was little more than a whisper.
Mark bristled at Connie’s sharp tone, as if she was Elizabeth’s mother rather than her sister. Even worse was the way Elizabeth was cowering, like she was in junior high and not a grown ass woman who could kiss whoever the hell she wanted.
Much as he would have loved to hear her “explain,” as she put it, he stepped in, physically and verbally. “Lay off, Connie, it was just a kiss.”
Connie’s nostrils flared and she stared at him with an open mouth. That, he probably would have expected if he’d thought about it before he’d spoken. What he didn’t expect was Elizabeth’s reaction.
Thwack. “Ow!” He reached up to rub the shoulder that she’d punched. Hard. Turning to face Elizabeth, he rubbed the soon-to-be bruise. “What was that for?”
Her face was screwed up in anger. God, she was adorable when she was angry.
“Don’t you talk to my sister like that.” Arms crossed in front of her chest, there was no longer any trace of the frightened tween, just an angry grown ass woman. It wasn’t exactly the effect he was looking for her, but he supposed it was better than the alternative.
Elizabeth turned her set expression to Connie, who was still watching them with an unattractively wide-open mouth.
“Con, I’ll call you tomorrow. There’s nothing to talk about tonight.” Sparing one look for Robbie and Mark, she spun on her heel and stalked off toward her car.
“Uh uh. Oh no you don’t.” He jogged until he was at her side, halfway through the parking lot. Robbie and Connie had headed toward their own car, apparently content to let Elizabeth drive him home.
She cast him a quick glance over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“I need a ride home.”
She let out a weary sigh. “Why don’t you own a car like a normal person?”
“Because I own a motorcycle—”
“Oooof course you do.”
“Which is in the shop.”
She sighed again. “Fine. I’ll drive you home.”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’ll drive you home miss ‘this wine is so good.’” They’d stopped beside her car and she looked up at him with wide eyes, possibly due to his impersonation which, he would admit, had come out a bit too high-pitched.
“I’m not drunk.” Her lips pursed into a pout and it took everything in him not to kiss her again. Judging by the bruise on his arm, a kiss right now would not end well for him.
“Fine. You’re not drunk.” He held out a hand for the keys. When she still resisted, he let out a loud exhale. “Look, I’m a bartender, I serve people booze for a living. I’m pretty good at judging their tolerance. You, my petite and slender little friend, are most likely a lightweight. Add to that the fact that you barely touched your meal and were going through a highly stressful and emotional experience….”
For a second she looked like she might argue but then she deflated a bit and handed over the keys without complaint. Once they were settled in and she was safely buckled, she turned to him with a look of concern. “How are you going to get home?”
The f
act that she worried about that had his lips twitching. “I’ll call a cab.”
That seemed to satisfy her and she turned back to stare out the windshield as he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.
He was fairly certain she would remain silent through the entire ride. And he was okay with that. For tonight, at least, he was just as eager to ignore whatever weird, mystical force brought them together for a heated kiss. It was lust, pure and simple. But he was still rattled for some reason. The neurons that had temporarily ceased functioning during that kiss were slow to reboot, apparently, and he was in no mood to discuss it or make too big a deal out of it. So he enjoyed the silence.
Until she spoke.
“Look, Mark,” she started. He looked over to see her licking her lips.
Look away, man, look away. He already needed a cold shower as it was.
“I know this might sound stupid after the other night.” She sounded so serious and he snuck a quick glance to see that she was still staring straight ahead and her hands were clasped in her lap. “But I don’t normally sleep around.”
What now? His eyes shot over to her but she was still not looking at him.
“I don’t normally do that,” she continued.
“Do what?” Compared to her quiet, near whisper, he sounded like he was shouting in the small car.
She gestured with her hand for him to turn off on the next street and for a second there he thought she wasn’t going to answer.
“I don’t normally sleep with strangers.”
There it was again. So she thought….she really thought….
She pointed to a small ranch-style house on the left and he pulled into the driveway. As she was reaching for the door handle he spun in his seat to face her. “What kind of asshole do you think I am?”
Her eyes widened in surprise as she turned back toward him, her hand still hovering near the handle. “What do you mean?”
Oh man. The honest confusion in her expression was painful, but the sadness, the hurt, the pain in her eyes….she might as well have stabbed him in the gut. She really thought he’d done it.
The Morning After: Starting from Zero Box Set Page 20
