Play (Stage Dive, #2)(30)

“Davie wanted to do a surprise second ceremony,” Mal said, joining in with the clapping. “She doesn’t remember last time—it was a quickie drunken Vegas wedding–so he’s doing it over for her.”

“Th-that’s sweet.” I licked my lips, ignoring the lingering taste of him. So good.

His arm slipped around my waist and it was all I could do to keep still, to not try and move away. Some breathing room would be great. Just until I got my body back under control.

“I think everyone saw us, yeah?” he said.

“Mm.” Without a doubt, we’d established ourselves as a couple. We’d probably managed to momentarily upstage the bride and groom. Excellent. They’d be inviting us back here for sure.

A man dressed in a bling-covered Elvis jumpsuit burst out of the hallway, sporting a big black wig and all. He began to sing “Love me Tender” as played by the string quartet. Everyone laughed and smiled. Ev started laughing and crying. They repeated their vows and even my eyes misted up after I got myself back under control. It was so wildly romantic. Jimmy moved quietly through the crowd and slipped his brother a ring. The gentle smile on his face surprised me just a little.

Ever so damn slowly my heart rate returned to something nearing normal. I glanced over my shoulder at Mal. At first I couldn’t work out what he was looking at. His attention was fixed on an older couple on the other side of the room, Ev or David’s parents, perhaps? He looked unhappy. The distance was back in his eyes, the line between his brows. Then he caught me watching. He frowned and returned his gaze to the front.

“Can you believe Davie got her another ring after three months?” Mal whispered in my ear. “He is so f*cking wrapped around her finger. It’s ridiculous.”

“They’re in love. I think it’s sweet.”

“At the rate he’s giving her diamonds, she’s going to have a tiara by Christmas.”

It was one thing for me to be caustic within the sanctity of my own skull. But I hated hearing Mal be so against the idea of love or coupledom or whatever it was that had set him off.

“What?” he asked, seeing my down face.

“I can’t decide if you sound jealous, bitter, or what.”

“I was making a joke,” he said, eyes wounded. “Tiaras are funny. Everyone knows that.”

“Right.”

Mal just blinked. His mouth, those gorgeous wicked lips of his, did not move.

Another round of applause thundered through the room as the remarkably swift service wound up. Though they were already married, no point dragging it out. Or maybe it only seemed fast to me. They kissed and flashbulbs lit the room. People crowded in to congratulate them.

Happy, happy times. What a joyous occasion.

“Back in a minute,” I said, squeezing out of Mal’s embrace. I needed air, space, shit like that. I needed to get my head on straight. My overreaction to his kiss had unnerved me big-time. Things were cooler and calmer out on the balcony. I knew having Mal cozy up to me at events would be weird. I’d expected feelings, sensations. Nerves, awkwardness, even mild titillation I could understand, but blow my mind, swamp me with lust, and make the world disappear? Not so much. He’d been right, there was every chance Fatal Attraction loomed large around the corner.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, coming up behind me.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

“Bullshit.”

“If I say its fine, its fine,” I gritted out.

“You’re acting weird.” He walked toward me, hypnotic eyes messing with my mind. “That was an awesome kiss,” he said.

“It was okay,” I lied, giving him a serene smile.

“It was okay?” One of his brows arched skyward. “That’s it?”

I shrugged.

“Anne, you nearly tore off my clothing. I think it was better than okay.”

“Oh, sorry. Was that overkill? I figured with the way you were going at me we were aiming for over the top.”

He stopped. “Going at you?”

“Well, it was pretty full on.”

“Was it, now?”

Another shrug. “You have to admit, there was a lot of tongue.”

He stepped closer, getting into my personal space. My heels needed to be taller. This wasn’t the sort of situation where I wanted to be looked down upon. I clenched and unclenched my fingers behind my back, flustered as f*ck but trying not to let it show. This was not me. I didn’t allow my life to get messed up by men. Been there, done that, had bought the T-shirt and worn it until it had ratty little holes in it.

“I warned you there’d be tongue when we were making our agreement,” he said.

God help me, had there been tongue. Lots and lots of it. I could still feel his, sliding against my own, turning me on. Phantom tongue. There was every possibility Malcolm Ericson was driving me insane. He needed to be stopped. But the best I could do right then was to steer this conversation the hell away from all things oral, stat.

“Yeah, about our agreement … why did you say you needed a fake girlfriend?”

“We already talked about that.”

“You didn’t tell me anything.”

“Told you as much as I’m going to.” He paused, glowering down at me. “Why are you trying to turn this back onto me? What’s wrong, Anne, not feeling defensive over one little kiss, are you?”