The Singles Table (Marriage Game #3)(44)

“Oh.” She let out a soft sigh, her breasts crushed between them, hands holding his shoulders tight. “Good catch.”

“It’s my job.” He looked down at her blacked-out eyes, cheeks smeared with gray makeup, lush lips painted a garish red. There was no reason to keep holding her, but he couldn’t let go. Only when she flashed him a rotted-teeth smile did he finally release her.

“Where did you get all . . .” He waved his hand vaguely over her outfit. “This.”

“I couldn’t bear to cut up my dress, so I grabbed a tablecloth and asked around if people had any extra accessories. One guy had these extra teeth.” She gave him another grin. “Someone had makeup and baby powder. I picked up the rotting-flesh patches off the floor, and I made the crown from the meat section at the buffet. It’s nothing like my zombie costume at home, but I fit right in.”

“I’ve been waiting to introduce you to Bob. Are you okay to meet him like this? Zombie princess in a ham kebab crown doesn’t scream professional.”

She brushed off his jacket, now covered in makeup and powder. “I already met Bob. I challenged him to a beer funnel contest. Guess who won?”

“Not Bob.”

“Of course not Bob.” Zara laughed. “He was a good sport about it. Afterward, we had a chat and he said he’d never met a more relatable attorney. He autographed my arm and I gave him my card. He even asked for extra cards to give to his friends.”

“Well, that was . . . lucky.” He didn’t want to think about the good-looking celebrity drinking with Zara and touching her arm. Jay had planned to be there for the introduction. Celebrities were a horny bunch and it was his job to keep Zara safe.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. My beer funnel skills are unmatched.” She leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for the invitation.”

He felt that kiss like a brand on his skin. How was he supposed to stay focused on his goal when she did things like that? How was he supposed to work when she looked so sexy in her bloodstained tablecloth? This wasn’t his path. She wasn’t his woman. Even if she didn’t find him a match, he’d upheld his part of the bargain and he could easily end this arrangement and move on with his life. “I have to get back to work,” he said abruptly.

“There’s lipstick on your cheek.” She rubbed his skin with a gentle brush of her thumb and pleasure spilled over him, freezing him in place.

“Is it gone?”

“No.” She bit the soft flesh of her lower lip and gave him a sultry smile. “Maybe I should kiss the other side and make it even.”

He jerked away, hands flying up in a warding gesture. If she came too close, if she touched him again, he would kiss her, powdered hair, greasy makeup, kebab crown and all.

“C’mon, Jay.” She gave him a rotted-teeth smile, lurching toward him on one red shoe. “I don’t bite.”

He took another step back, desperate to get away from her addictive warmth, her sunny smile, her sexy body, and her wicked laugh. His heel caught on something and he went down. The last thing he heard before he blacked out was a zombie scream.



* * *



? ? ?

Parvati answered the phone with a breathless, “Hello?”

“If somebody falls and bangs his head on a cauldron full of Jell-O brains and loses consciousness for about five seconds, does he need to come to the hospital?” Zara glanced over at Jay, who was back at his post near the door. He didn’t seem to be affected by his minor accident other than it had made him more grumpy than usual. He’d barked at her to get away and then stormed off to the restroom to clean his suit. Five minutes later he was kicking zombies out of the party with a vengeance.

“Oh, it’s you.” Parvati breathed a sigh. “I didn’t recognize the number.”

“Phones aren’t allowed at the party because they don’t want people taking pictures and selling them to the press,” Zara explained. “I’m using the bartender’s landline. It’s so cute. I didn’t know they made landlines anymore.”

“I’m assuming we’re not talking about you being injured.”

“It’s Jay.” She waved to the bartender to refill her zombie punch. Her last cup had been all eyes—lychees with blueberry pupils. After the recent disaster, she needed all the alcohol she could get.

“I accidentally caused him to fall over backward and bang his head on a cauldron full of fake zombie brains. I was pretty sure he lost consciousness for a few seconds, although he may have been closing his eyes at the sheer irony of it all.”

“How are his pupils?” Parvati’s voice turned serious. “Is he dizzy? Nauseous?”

“He’s fine, I think.” She turned in her chair to make sure he was still standing. “Every time he looks at me, his eyes narrow so it’s kind of hard to tell. But he is stomping around, and he can lift two zombies at once and toss them into a cab. The ladies seem to love it.”

Stunning in his dark blue uniform and security vest, he clearly didn’t have to work at attracting attention. Women were drawn to him even when he was just standing still. It would have been incredibly annoying except for the fact that he barely looked at them. Every offer was brushed off with a bland expression or a firm, curt gesture.