I texted her yesterday. I never text a woman the day after I see her. That’s too strong a signal. But after I laid that goodnight kiss on her, I felt it needed a follow-up. I basically kissed and ran. So I texted: Hey, looking forward to birthday part two. Seemed casual enough, and it only took me an hour to come up with. Hell, I’m in trouble. It’s not like I’m looking forward to dinner with her parents. I just want to see her again.
I meet her at the subway stop by Alison’s restaurant in Brooklyn. She’s in a pink blouse with a snug black skirt and black heels, pearl earrings and a matching pearl necklace, her briefcase strap over one shoulder. Sexy corporate wife. Temporary wife, I remind myself. It’s not like someone like her with her fancy degree and corporate job would ever really want to be married to someone like me. She’s pearls and blazers, and I’m…not. I never will be. I’m the guy who comes home covered in sweat and dirt from a day’s hard labor. Ultimately, she’ll want a corporate guy with a fat paycheck. I’ve got tonight and that’s it.
“Hey,” I say, going in for the casual cheek kiss. She shifts and kisses me on the lips. A jolt goes through me just like the last time we kissed and…every time. Nothing wrong with our chemistry.
She smiles, a sexy secret smile that says she remembers our last kiss very well. Has she replayed it as many times as I have? “Hello.”
I take her briefcase from her. “Dinner’s at seven, right? You wanna go somewhere for drinks first?”
“Actually, my parents texted that they got there early. Mom’s meeting was cancelled, so she headed straight over. My dad works from home, so his schedule is flexible. He’s a consultant to tech companies.”
“Your family is heavy on the numbers. You and your mom crunch the numbers, and Sam and your dad have all those zeroes and ones flashing by.”
She laughs. “Yeah, Dad always says computers all come down to zeroes and ones. Binary code.”
“Sam says that too, and now I know where he got it from. So, let’s go, I guess.”
We head toward the restaurant and I consider how to ask her to stick around after dinner. Just for drinks. I’m not going to do anything stupid like invite her back to my place. I just want to spend a little more time with her before the whole thing between us vanishes on Monday with a bit of paperwork.
“It’s really good to see you,” I say.
She smiles warmly. “You too.”
“Maybe after—” I halt as soft hands cover my eyes from behind.
“Guess who?” a feminine voice asks.
I pull her hands off me and turn. She’s a petite blonde and I’m blanking on her name. We hooked up last summer. I remember her halter top showing off her belly button piercing. Just like she’s wearing now. “Hey, how’re ya?”
She looks up at me under her lashes. “Tell me you didn’t forget my name just like you forgot to call me. Bad boy.”
I often say I’ll call and don’t, figuring that sends the message that it’s over without any messy goodbyes. I can feel Riley’s eyes boring a hole in the side of my head. “Sorry, I’m bad with names. This is my girlfriend, Riley.”
“Seriously?” the blonde asks. “You have a girlfriend? An actual girlfriend.”
“We gotta go,” I say, grabbing Riley’s hand and heading on our way.
“He’s off the market,” Riley calls over her shoulder in a cheerful tone. “Spread the word!”
My chest warms. That was kinda nice. She’s claiming me.
She laughs. “That ought to slow you down.” Maybe she was just messing with me.
“So would my wedding ring.” At her glare, I add, “Kidding! I would never cheat on my wife.”
“I’m sure whoever your future wife is will appreciate that.”
I glance at her, trying to read her expression. Her tone is light, but her expression is just like that night we went out with her friends, just shy of a pout. Is she jealous of what’s-her-name? Does Riley actually want me for real? Not for a hookup, but as an actual boyfriend. In that case, maybe we should postpone the breakup. No one says we can’t date after the annulment, right? But it’s Riley, Sam’s little sister, which means I need to be serious about her or forget it. I can’t be screwing around this time, taking things lightly.
“How’s it going as crew chief?” she asks.
“Great, actually. I love bossing everyone around.”
She smiles. “Can you still joke around with everyone now that you’re the boss?”
“Hell yeah, only now they have to laugh.” I wink. “Bad form not to kiss up to the boss.”
She laughs.
“How’s your work going?”
Her brows lift. “You really want to know?”
“Yeah.”
And then she fills me in on quarter end and all the reporting they need to do then. This year is better for her because the Fourth of July holiday is on a Wednesday, so she gets two days off in the middle of the week and took a vacation day on Friday. The work will pile up after that. I immediately think of what we can do on the Fourth of July because I’m off then too, and then I remember I’m supposed to go to my parents’ barbecue, and I can’t bring her there. I’ve never brought a woman home in my life and that would be way too big a deal. Besides, we’ll be done by then.
My shoulders slump. I don’t want serious, but I don’t want it to be over either. I’m not sure what to do. My mind circles the problem and all the complications and potential hazards involved while Riley fills me in on her demanding client. I try to say “uh-huh” at appropriate intervals.
We arrive at the restaurant, and she smiles at me. “You’re such a good listener.”
A sliver of guilt keeps me from smiling back. “Thanks.” I open the door for her and we step inside.
Her parents are at a back table with drinks already. Her dad stands and calls loudly, “Over here!”
It’s not that big a place that he needed to make a big announcement. Riley blushes, tucking her hair behind her ears and heading over. She hugs her parents, and I go to shake their hands. Her dad actually smiles at me. He seems to be in a great mood. Her mom is more reserved, giving me a tight smile.
“Have a seat,” her mom says. “So good to see you both.”
“Thanks,” Riley says, taking a seat.
I sit next to her, across from her parents. “Good to see you too.”
“Good news today,” her dad says. “I got a new client. A whopper.”
“Congratulations!” Riley says.
Her dad fills us in on his big catch. It definitely wasn’t Riley and me that put him in such a good mood. Conversation goes smoothly between the three of them, and I just lean back, hoping I don’t have to field any tough relationship questions.
It’s not until halfway through dinner that her mom addresses me directly. “Jack, I heard your parents live nearby and wondered if we could meet them.”
My heart jackhammers. Hell no! Impossible. I hadn’t considered this scenario.
“Why?” Riley blurts.
Her mom sighs. “If you and Jack are serious about each other, I’d like to see who his people are.”
Riley straightens in her seat. “His people are royal, Mom.”
“Yes, I’ve heard,” her mom says dryly. “I’m very interested in meeting them. Family says a lot about a person.”
Riley worries her lower lip and shoots me a quick glance that almost seems guilty. Did she say something about my family to her parents? Did she spill our secret about the Vegas wedding to her parents and swear them to secrecy? Is that why they want to meet “my people”? Something is very wrong here.
Sweat runs down my spine. My family can never know. This marriage is supposed to disappear like it never happened.
Her dad smiles gamely. “Maybe they could meet us somewhere after dinner.”
“They’re out,” I say immediately. “Friday night is their date night.” My parents don’t have a date night anymore since all of us kids are grown and out of the house. They go out whenever.
Still it sounds good. I have no idea if they’re home or not.
Riley’s brow is crinkled in the way it gets when she’s thinking hard. She’s trying to find an out for the parental visit just like me.
Her dad tries again. “Well, then, they’re invited to Sam and Alison’s welcome home party at our house.” He looks to me. “It’ll be a good time for us all to sit down and get to know each other better.”
I force myself not to look at Riley. I didn’t know about the welcome home party, don’t even know when it is, I just know I can’t go. And my parents definitely can’t go. I’m about to say they’re going to be away when Riley finally pipes up.
“Sundays are when Jack’s family has their big family dinner, so the welcome home party won’t work for his family. Or Jack. I’ll be there though.” That sounds plausible.
“Then how about the Fourth of July?” her dad asks. “I could grill. Everyone’s welcome. The pool’s open.”
“I already committed to another barbecue on the Fourth,” I say. Which is true, thankfully. I really don’t like lying to her parents.
“I’ll be with him,” Riley says, inviting herself over.
Then I realize she’s just saying that, and I can’t introduce her to my parents anyway. That would imply more. We’re done on Monday. The Fourth is two days past that.
Would it be so bad to extend it just a couple of days more?
Her mom purses her lips. “Well, Jack, when it is convenient, please let your parents know that we’d like to meet them.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Riley gives my hand a squeeze under the table.
“Tell us more about you,” her mom says. “All we’ve heard from Sam is you’re the good-time guy and you’re always pulling pranks. But who are you to our daughter?”
Riley stiffens. “Mom, don’t put him on the spot like that.”
Her mom stiffens too. “You don’t want a clown for a serious boyfriend. I’d like to know if there’s more there. I’m really trying to be open minded here, Riley.”
“He’s not a clown!” Riley protests.
I don’t want them to fight over me. This has all gotten way out of hand.
“I am the good-time guy,” I blurt. “We got carried away in Vegas and somehow it snowballed into this serious relationship that was more to appease Sam than an actual relationship. Riley and I already agreed to part very soon, we just didn’t want to upset Sam. Bro code was in effect, but now he’s away on his honeymoon, and—” my voice chokes suddenly, and I clear my throat before finishing quietly “—and I’ll be out of the picture very soon.”
All three of them stare at me, looking stunned. Her mom turns to her dad. “Bro code?”
“I’ll explain later,” he says.
I turn to Riley. There’s hurt in her eyes. “That doesn’t mean I don’t like spending time with you. I do. I like you. A lot.” Heat creeps up my neck. “And respect you, of course,” I add for her parents’ benefit because I almost blurted how sexy she is and fun. With me, anyway.
I clamp my mouth shut and stare at a point on the wall past her dad’s shoulder. Should I leave now?
“So it’s over,” her mom says.
I lock eyes with Riley. I don’t want it to be over. “Not just yet,” I say, backpedaling madly. “That was the plan, but…” I trail off, hoping Riley gets the message. Just a little longer.
Riley smiles. “Jack and I are going to talk things over and see where we land.”
Her parents exchange a confused look.
I let out a breath. She gave me a reprieve. I try not to think too hard about what that means for the future. All I care about is that I get to be with the most amazing, smart, sexy woman I’ve ever met. And that’s not something I’d ever joke about.
Dinner wrapped up quickly after my rambling confession. As soon as we finished eating, her parents said they had to get back home. They seemed puzzled and not entirely happy by the turn of events. Me too. Because I want more time with Riley, even if it means we stay married a little longer and no sex. That’s fucked up, right?
I take her hand. “You wanna go back to my place? We need to talk.” She’s the one who said we’d talk things over and see where we land. I’m not sure if that means I’m committing to the marriage or not. I break out into a cold sweat at the thought.
“Sure.”
“Guess I skipped ahead, confessing all that stuff to your parents.”
“It’s okay. They put you on the spot, trying to meet up with your parents. You were visibly sweating. I knew you’d crack.”
I blow out a breath. “That obvious?”
She smiles, and it’s so bright, so sweet I can’t help smiling back. “You’d never make it through an interrogation.”
“And I’ve held back confessing on so many pranks too. Guess my family is my Achilles’ heel. Once they got my parents into the mix, I had to run damage control.”
“That’s nice. Obviously you care about them a lot.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. I want to ask her if she’s cool with postponing the annulment for a while. The fact is, we get along well despite being so different. And then I realize that sounds like I want to be married, which I don’t. And I’m sure she doesn’t see herself long term with me. I’m not sure what’s the next step. I just don’t want it to be over. I like being with her, I like getting to know her just a little more each day, I like seeing her bright smile, her blushing cheeks, her sensible buttoned-up outfits. I just plain like her. It’s so weird because usually sex is the beginning and end of things for me, but with Riley it’s only been kissing. I don’t know why that’s drawing me in so much, but there it is. Maybe not hooking up gave me the chance to get to know a woman more than I ever have before. Maybe it’s because she was off-limits for so long. Maybe it’s just her. All I know for sure is, for whatever reason, I want to be with her and only her. Hey, maybe I am serious boyfriend material. Actually, I’m her husband.
“You think your parents hate me?” I ask. I don’t know why I care, but I do.
“No. I think they’re just confused, and my mom’s judgmental about a guy who jokes around a lot. It’s not her thing. I think it’s fun.”
I press my lips together. First time it really matters and it’s already off to a bad start.
She squeezes my hand. “Don’t worry about them.”
A few minutes later, we’re at my building. I let her in and lead the way to the second floor, opening the door and gesturing for her to go in ahead of me. I belatedly check out the living room, hoping it’s not a disaster area. No empty pizza boxes. Just some scattered clothing. I grab a hoodie and my basketball sneakers and carry them to my bedroom closet, tossing them in.
I return to the living room to find her sitting on my dark brown leather sofa. The place is pretty sparse. Just a sofa, matching recliner, wooden coffee table, and a wall-mounted TV.
I rub my clammy hands together. “Can I get you something to drink?”
She stands. “Sure.”
“I’ll get it.” I know for a fact the kitchen is a mess with a sink full of dishes. “Water, beer, or milk?”
She smiles. “Water’s good for me.”
“Two waters coming up.” God, I sound like a nerd.
I make my escape to the kitchen. It’s this talk we’re supposed to have. I’m not sure how to ask for more time without giving her the idea that I actually want to stay married. Not that she’d ever accept a real marriage with me. This isn’t real. It’s a leftover Vegas souvenir.
Except it feels like so much more than a souvenir. She’s kinda special, different and intriguing. Sexy in a buttoned-up way, sweet but not too sweet, good sense of humor. She even likes pranks. A sense of humor is critical for me. I like to have fun. I don’t take anything too seriously, including myself.
I realize I’ve been standing at the kitchen sink lost in thought for way too long and give myself a mental shake. I grab two bottled waters from the refrigerator and return to the living room.<
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She smiles. “I was about to go in there and see if you needed help.”
“The kitchen is a mess,” I say, handing her a bottle.
“Did it make it hard to find the chilled bottled water?” she asks in a teasing voice.
I flop down next to her and set my water on the coffee table. “We need to talk about the relationship.” I nearly groan. I can’t believe I just said that.
“Okay,” she says, setting her water down. “Talk.”
Sweat breaks out on my forehead. A small part of me was hoping she’d dive right in, and I could just agree or disagree with whatever she said. Where to start? Annulment? Marriage? Dating? Are we dating? What the hell is this thing between us?
“There’s chemistry,” I blurt.
She scoots closer, her thigh pressed against mine. My gaze drops to the hem of her skirt, which is riding up. “Yes. I confess I’ve been replaying that amazing goodnight kiss you gave me.”
“Okay, so that’s both good and bad.”
She looks up at me under her lashes, her voice a throaty purr. “How is it bad?”
Lust surges through me. I want her under me, want my name on her lips. I use every ounce of willpower to turn from her tempting self and rest my elbows on my knees. This is torture. Why do I want to prolong this marriage that can never be consummated? I should just end it like we agreed on Monday morning.
Rogue Rascal (The Rourkes, Book 9) Page 10
