The Best Man Problem (Mile High Happiness)

by Mariah Ankenman

  Now the woman had her curious. She knew how she felt about Lincoln, sort of. There were a lot of confusing feelings and emotions, but she got the gist. Or her body did, anyway. But other than his desire for another roll in the sack, she had no idea how he felt about her.

  Unable to stop the question from leaving her lips, Lilly turned her head to the other woman and asked, “How?”

  The bride-to-be kept her focus on her friend on the dance floor, but a small smile played on her lips as she bypassed the question. “I love Lincoln. He’s my best friend after Kenneth. Like a brother to me. He’s been at our side through thick and thin. He was a rock for both me and Kenneth when I got sick and was going through chemo, always there to make me smile or hold me when I cried. He even held Kenneth a time or two. He’s our family.”

  She understood that. Maybe not to the depths that those three experienced, but she, Mo, and Pru had been through a lot together. Death and heartbreak had touched their lives, and she and her friends had always been there for one another. She understood the bond Marie felt to Lincoln.

  “He had a rough patch himself a few years ago.”

  Lincoln? Always smiling and joking, carefree Lincoln had a rough patch? She couldn’t see it. The man breezed through life like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like he wore some kind of bad-news Teflon coating. She couldn’t imagine the cheerful guy experiencing a dark period.

  C’mon, Lil. Life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. You know that, even if Mo doesn’t.

  Yes, she had firsthand knowledge of the misery life could throw a person’s way. Naive of her to think Lincoln lived a life of carefree bliss. The man had a close friend who beat cancer. Of course he’d had some dark moments. But somehow she knew Marie wasn’t speaking of Lincoln’s reaction to her own illness.

  “What happened?” The question was out of her mouth before she could really think about it. She didn’t need to know more about this man. Knowing more would make him more human, more…appealing. But she couldn’t seem to stop her curiosity from getting the better of her.

  “Not my story to tell.” Marie’s gaze was still fixated on Lincoln, though her smile slipped a little. “But it scared him off relationships and love. He hasn’t dated much since. Or smiled.” The woman’s head turned to her, eyes considering. “But when he looks at you, I see it again.”

  She held her breath. “What?”

  The smile returned to the bride’s face, bright this time, hopeful. “Happiness.”

  Well, damn.

  “I like you, Lilly. You’re sweet and kind, and I know we’re paying you, so it might all be an act, but I don’t think it is.” Marie tilted her head, staring with those dark, knowing eyes. “You care.”

  Her head bobbed up and down of its own accord. It was true. She did care. Not just about making a paycheck but about her clients. Even the ones she knew were doomed to fail. Those she sometimes cared about more because she could see the disaster coming but felt powerless to do anything about it. All she could do was give them the day of their dreams and hope things worked out in the end.

  “He’s a great guy,” Marie continued. “And he deserves a great woman.”

  Did the bride-to-be mean her? And if she did, what did that mean for Lilly’s no-dating-members-of-the-wedding-party rule? The last disaster happened because she’d kept her relationship a secret. At the request of the guy. Stupid. That should have been her first red flag, but she’d been blinded by her emotions and hadn’t been using her head. Mistake number two.

  But this situation was different. The bride herself seemed to be pushing the two of them together. She was fairly certain Marie was still unaware of Lilly and Lincoln’s one-night stand. If the woman did know, would she be more or less eager to help make this match? And what was that thing Marie said about heartbreak? Could it have something to do with Lincoln’s distaste of long-term relationships?

  It’s not like they shared much of their lives the night they were together, but the thought of Lincoln having a secret made her gut clench. The last secret a guy kept from her almost destroyed her and those she loved.

  Her head was spinning, and she hadn’t even participated in any of the twirls or spins currently being demonstrated on the dance floor.

  In the end, none of it mattered. Whatever tragic event happened in Lincoln’s past had pushed him away from meaningful relationships. He had mentioned a time or two not being big on long-term commitment. Their night together might have been a first for both of them, but it seemed Lincoln was more Netflix and Chill, whereas Lilly was Hulu and Commitment.

  Their relationship goals didn’t match. Probably the biggest marker on her list proving their paper match was a no go, which should make her happy. Then what was this sharp twinge of sadness filling her chest?

  “Hey, sweetheart, sorry about that.” Kenneth arrived at Marie’s side, kissing her cheek as he slipped his cell phone into his pocket. “My mom had a few questions about the rehearsal dinner.”

  So that’s why the two had left the dance floor. At the reminder of why she was really here—to work, not to ogle a man she shouldn’t want—Lilly turned her smile to Kenneth. “Anything I can help with?”

  Other than recommendations for venues and sometimes bookings, the rehearsal dinners were largely left up to the couple, as most in-laws handled that aspect of the wedding. Since the wedding was being held outside of the city in the mountains, Kenneth’s parents had contacted Lilly a month ago to garner suggestions, and she’d provided the couple a few of the best caterers in the area.

  “Nope.” Kenneth smiled at her. “Mom just wanted to make sure she had the head count right.” He nuzzled his fiancée’s ear. “You ready to get back out there?”

  Marie giggled, her shoulder raising as Kenneth gave her tiny love nips along her neck. The moment was so intimate that Lilly turned her eyes back to the dance floor to give the couple a bit of privacy. Nothing she wasn’t used to. Soon-to-be married couples were often so in love, so wrapped up in their own happiness, they tended to forget other people were in the room with them. A tiny love bite was nothing compared to the few instances where a couple’s PDA had gotten so out of control she actually had to audibly remind the couple she stood a few feet away.

  “Actually,” Marie answered, “I need to talk to Rachel about the bachelorette party. Can you go grab her for me?”

  Like the lovesick puppy he was, Kenneth placed a kiss to his fiancée’s cheek and hurried off to do her bidding. Lilly watched as he weaved among dancing couples to reach Lincoln and Rachel’s side, tapping his friend on the shoulder and sharing a few words. When the man pointed their way, Rachel smiled, nodding and giving Lincoln a hug. A very friendly and long hug, in Lilly’s opinion.

  Married, Lilly. To a woman. Get your ugly jealous head out of your ass.

  Ugh! She needed help.

  Kenneth hurried back over with Rachel, the woman spotted Lilly and smiled.

  “Hi, Lilly. How’s it going?”

  She’d met Rachel at the bridesmaid dress fitting a few weeks ago. They hadn’t conversed much, but she was very nice and seemed genuine. Which made Lilly feel all the more awful for her petty and completely unwarranted jealousy.

  “Hello, Rachel. I’m doing fine. You looked beautiful out there.”

  Lilly had two left feet, and neither of them could dance a step.

  “Thanks. I met my wife line dancing. We still go every Friday night.”

  “Excuse me.” Marie grabbed her friend’s hand. “I need to steal my matron of honor for a moment.” A sly smile overtook the bride-to-be’s face. “Oh dear, it looks like Lincoln is all alone out there. Lilly, why don’t you go dance with him?”

  “Oh, no. I couldn’t.” Not if she wanted to keep her distance—and her clothes on.

  “Don’t be silly,” Marie insisted. “He needs a partner. You can’t leave him out there by himse
lf.”

  Her logic was sound, but Lilly smelled a setup. Especially after the conversation they’d just had. No way was Marie pushing her toward Lincoln just so the guy wouldn’t be alone on the dance floor.

  “Kenneth, will you take her over there, please?”

  “Babe,” Kenneth whispered into Marie’s ear, just loud enough for Lilly to catch his hesitation. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, after—”

  “It’s fine, honey.” Marie batted her eyes at her fiancé, who looked slightly apprehensive but agreed to her request.

  “Come on.” Kenneth gently took her arm and started to lead her across the room, weaving her among the twirling couples.

  “Oh, but I—”

  Her protests were cut off as they arrived in front of the man in question.

  “Hey, Lincoln.” Kenneth glanced back to Marie with a puzzled frown but, at her wave, turned back and smiled at his friend. “I found you a new dance partner.”

  “Did you now?”

  Pale hazel eyes lit up, a smile curving Lincoln’s lips as he stared directly into her eyes. With their minimal height difference and her three-inch heels, they were on even footing. She might even be a half inch taller than him. Didn’t seem to bother the man one bit. He stood there, grinning at her like a fool. No. Not a fool. Like a predator about to devour his prey. And at the moment, she felt very much like prey. An offering by a sweet but meddling woman in love. Why did people in love always try and set up everyone they knew? Just because they were happy and lucky in love didn’t mean everyone else would be, too.

  A buzzing sound came from Kenneth, and he dropped her arm to dig his phone out of his pocket.

  “It’s my mom again. I better take this.” He brought the phone to his ear, leaving the dance floor with a wave. “Hey, Mom. What? No. Cousin Barry is allergic to shellfish, not peanuts.”

  Lilly stared after Kenneth as he left, her attention catching on Marie talking to Rachel. The woman noticed her stare and smiled, giving her a wink and thumbs-up. Very different energy than the weird vibe coming off Kenneth as he led her over here. It seemed not everyone was on the Lilly-and-Lincoln train. In all the months she’d known the couple, this was the first thing she’d seen them not 100 percent agree on. The realization left a sick sense of dread in the pit of her stomach.

  She turned back to Lincoln to find him smiling at her, a question filling his soft gaze. One she had precisely zero answer to. She was trying to be strong in resisting him, but she had about fifty-fifty support and opposition from the people around her right now, and the even split was not helping her give a firm no or yes either way.

  Because if she gave this man her body again, she feared she just might lose her heart.

  Chapter Ten

  Lincoln smiled as Lilly gave him a considering stare. “What?”

  She shook her head. “Your friends are about as subtle as mine.”

  He laughed, a deep, loud rumble that filled his chest and warmed his belly. She had that right. The past two weeks, Marie had been making some not-so-subtle hints about Lilly and what a great catch she was. Preaching to the choir. What his friend didn’t know was he had firsthand knowledge of exactly how dynamite the woman could be. And not only in bed. Every moment he’d spent in her presence had been a fascinating discovery of a fierce and feisty woman who appeared cool and controlled on the outside but had a wild and passionate spirit burning within.

  She could stand to loosen up on her rigid rules, and she definitely needed to join the age of updated technology, but he supposed no one was perfect.

  “Shall we?” He held out his hand.

  Lilly glanced to the dance floor, a slight grimace turning those sweet red lips. “Trust me, you do not want to dance with me.”

  Actually, he’d like nothing more at the moment. While he’d much rather take her back to bed and pleasure her until neither of them could walk straight the next day, they were in public without a bed in sight, and that desire would have to wait.

  “I don’t?” He tilted his head at her assuredness.

  She gave a soft laugh. “I am a terrible dancer. I have zero rhythm, and more than one person has accused me of breaking their baby toe.”

  He highly doubted the woman could dance poorly enough to break a toe. Unless she danced in steel boots. A quick glance to her feet revealed a pair of sleek and shiny blue high heels with tiny skyscraper picks that somehow held her up, making her his exact height. Maybe even half an inch taller. Lincoln didn’t care. At five foot ten, he wasn’t the tallest guy in any room, and he’d dated women in the past who matched or even exceeded his height. Never bothered him. Just made the journey to heaven a shorter one.

  “In those killer shoes?” He whistled. “Stab me, maybe, but I doubt you could break anything.”

  She glanced down with a smile. “You like my shoes?”

  If he liked them any more, there’d be an uncomfortable tenting situation going on. As it was, he was having a hard time controlling his body’s reaction to this woman. The shoes were only one part of her alluring look tonight. The pale yellow dress, which complemented the shoes in color so perfectly he was sure she bought them together, clung to her curves, hugging every delectable inch of her body from the scoop of the collar, which was modest and yet revealed just the hint of teasing cleavage, to where it nipped in at her waist—a waist he vividly remembered grasping in his hands as she rode him with wild abandon. It fanned out, hitting her just above her knees, revealing the mile-long legs he still dreamed about. Having those beauties wrapped around him as he thrust into her was a memory branded on his soul.

  “I love them.” He lifted his hand. “And I would love to dance with you in them. I promise not to mention any injuries you might inflict, even if there’s blood drawn.”

  She laughed. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Ten minutes later, he struggled to hold in the affirmation of her warning.

  “I told you.” Lilly chuckled as he grimaced when she stepped on his toe for the fifth time. “I am a terrible dancer.”

  The instructor had come by three times to help, but it seemed even the dancer with decades of experience and teaching under her dance belt had pegged Lilly as a lost cause. Not him, though.

  “Put your feet on mine.”

  One dark, perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose. Her glasses slipped down her nose a bit.

  “Seriously? I’ve been stepping on them for the past ten minutes, and now you want me to full-on crush your feet?”

  Releasing the arm he had on her waist, he brought his hand up to gently push the dark frames back up her nose with a single finger. Bright green eyes blinked behind the clear glass at his action. “No. I don’t want you to crush them, but I do want you to gently place your feet on mine.”

  She did as he requested, grumbling as she did so. “I feel like a kid with her father at a daddy-daughter dance.”

  He returned the hand to her waist, resuming the slight sway, moving to the steps of the dance much easier now that her feet were purposely on top of his.

  “Dance a lot this way with your dad as a kid?”

  Her eyes focused on the wall behind his head. “No. I never knew my father. He ran out on my mom when she got pregnant with me.”

  Damn, that sucked. He could never imagine abandoning a kid. He’d always wanted a family of his own. Past tense. Now he was glad he and Jessa never got to that point in their marriage. After what happened, he was grateful they didn’t bring a kid into that mess.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but it did. He could tell in the way her body tightened at the subject.

  “How are you enjoying Colorado?”

  Not the subtlest of subject changes, but he understood. Difficult pasts were hard to talk about. Wasn’t like he wanted to open up and spew all the crap that had hap
pened to him a few years ago. He was surprised she even shared as much with him as she did.

  “I love it,” he answered. “The mountains are amazing. I moved from Nebraska, and the closest thing we had to a mountain was Panorama Point, which is a little over five thousand feet in elevation.”

  She laughed, the sound brightening the room. “That’s not a mountain. That’s a speed bump. We have fifty-three fourteeners in Colorado.”

  “What’s a fourteener?” he asked, carefully spinning them away from an elderly couple that was dancing a bit too close. A difficult move with someone on his toes, but he managed.

  “Fourteen thousand feet in elevation.”

  He whistled. “Now that’s a mountain.”

  “Makes for great skiing.”

  He shrugged. “Don’t really like the cold. I prefer the summer months, hiking, camping. Warm-weather activities.”

  Her arm tightened around his neck, fingers absently playing with the short hairs at his nape. It was driving him insane, and he was fairly certain she wasn’t even aware she was doing it.

  “I hate camping, and I’m not much for hiking, but give me a snowy, slick hill to fly down at unwise speeds, and I’m there.” Her voice took on a resigned tone, eyes focusing on something internal as she stared at his chest. “I suppose this is a good thing. Another mismatch to add to the list.”

  “What list?” Mismatch? What was she talking about?

  Her gaze snapped back up to his, eyes clear as a stilted smile curled her lips. “Huh? Oh, nothing. It’s silly.”

  He let the thing about her dad go, but this, this had nothing to do with past pains, and he had a sneaking suspicion it had everything to do with him. So he pressed.

  “I could use some silly right now.”

  She tilted her head, considering him for a moment before shrugging and answering, “I’m compiling a list of our differences to show how unsuited we are to each other.”

  Wait, what? She was making a list to prove they wouldn’t work? First time he’d ever heard that. He had to admit, it stung a bit. Okay, a lot.