To Have and to Hold (The Wedding Belles #1)(30)

The simplicity and earnestness behind her words had nearly taken his breath away, and now as she sat stiffly beside him, keeping her face pointed resolutely away from him, he wanted very much to pull her toward him and beg her to explain what she’d meant.

To figure out how to be the kind of good that she wanted.

He supposed he could find out. He could research her in the same way he was researching Neil. Find out what made her tick. What secrets she held. But he was realizing he didn’t want to find out that way. He wanted her to tell him. Wanted her to confide in him.

Why he wanted that, he didn’t know. He didn’t want a relationship. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he wanted a friendship.

And yet, neither was he ready for her to get out of the car. To walk away from him with all this strange tension lingering between them.

“When will I see you again?” he blurted out.

She looked at him in surprise.

“For our deal, I mean. To discuss the wedding.”

“Oh. Right.” She dug around in her bag and pulled out her planner. “Um, Maya and I are doing an initial consultation at a couple of dress shops on Friday, but you won’t want to know about any of that, so . . .”

“Friday is perfect.”

She glanced up. “What?”

“What time is your appointment?” he asked, ignoring her surprise. The car had just pulled up outside her building, which meant he had to act fast.

“Two,” she said begrudgingly.

“And it’ll last how long?”

Her eyes narrowed. “There are a couple of shops I want to take her by, see what sort of vibe she likes. Factoring in traffic, we should be wrapped up by five or so.”

“Five. Done.”

“No, not done. I’m not seeing you on Friday.”

“You said that if I butted out of the wedding planning, you’d keep me apprised.”

“Sure, of the stuff that’s relevant to you and that has to do with Neil. Neil won’t even be there. Maya’s dress is completely irrelevant.”

“And going to be terribly expensive.”

Her mouth snapped shut, her teeth making an irritated little clicking noise. “Yes, I suppose it’s likely to be expensive, depending what she’s looking for.”

“And I’ll be paying for it,” he said with finality. “So let’s make it five thirty on Friday.”

He pulled out his phone to schedule it in, refusing to look Brooke in the eye for the irritation he knew he’d see there. Yes, he was controlling the situation, pushing her too hard. But Seth didn’t back down. He didn’t know why, but making time for Brooke Baldwin in his life felt necessary somehow, and he didn’t much care whether she liked it or not.

“Fine,” she snapped. “Five thirty. I can come by your office, we can review whether or not your sister wants a sweetheart or halter neckline—”

“And then I’ll take you to dinner.”

Her hand was on the door handle, and she shoved the door open, likely catching Dex by surprise.

Seth leaned over and caught her arm before she could go storming out of the car. “Ms. Baldwin.”

She shot him an angry glare. “Do you realize how many times you just interrupted me? How pushy you are at trying to achieve your agenda?”

He opened his mouth, and then shut it as he realized he had been horribly high-handed with her. “I’m sorry.”

Her mouth opened to retort, but then she shut it and gave him a suspicious look as she jerked her arm free from his grasp.

His fingers itched to touch her again, but he clenched his fist instead and took a steadying breath and forced himself to make the request of her. “Ms. Baldwin. Will you have dinner with me on Friday? Please?”

“To discuss Maya’s wedding dress?” she asked warily.

Fuck no. He didn’t give a shit about his sister’s wedding dress.

But he’d set himself up for this bullshit, so he forced himself to nod. “Yeah.”

“All right,” she said slowly. “We can do dinner. But, Mr. Tyler, I really need you to understand . . . I’m not looking for anything . . . romantic. Or sexual. This thing between us—I’m not going to pretend it’s not there, but I’m also not going to act on it. My career with the Belles is too important to me to risk screwing it up over something like this.”

His fist clenched harder, and he pulled his hand back at the rejection. He wasn’t surprised. Hell, he didn’t want anything, either; it was just . . . the straight-up dismissal burned. Not only because he was turned on as hell every time he looked at her, but because he got so much damned energy just from being around her.

And the feeling, apparently, was not mutual.

“It’ll just be a business dinner,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “I have them all the time.”

Which was true. Just not with people who looked like her. Not with people who made him feel the way she made him feel.

“Perfect,” she said primly. “I’ll see you Friday at five thirty, then. Shall we meet at the restaurant?”

“At my office, just in case I’m running late,” he said. “If that’s okay.”

She nodded. “Okay, then. Have a nice night, Mr. Tyler.”

“You too,” he said gruffly as she shut the door behind her.