Best Man with Benefits (Wedding Dare, #4, McCade Brothers, #3)(14)
She licked her lips again and rubbed the tip of her nose, which was tingly and numb at the same time. “Not that much.” The hiccup that followed her statement was much more contained. She wasn’t even sure he heard it. “I’d love a little more.”
He rose with the grace of someone who never found himself on the wrong side of the laws of physics, and crossed to the cabinet where the champagne sat in its Beaver Creek–emblazoned ice bucket. He took the bottle and a plastic bottle of water supplied by the hotel. Then he disappointed her by handing her the water.
“Hey…hic!”
He toasted her and then disappointed her even more by settling into the oversize chair nearest the bed and resting his feet on the ottoman. “Give me a chance to catch up.”
They sat in silence for several moments. Uncomfortable moments where she frantically searched her mind for something…anything…to talk about. She was about to resort to the weather when another massive hiccup exploded from her lungs and practically shook the room.
“Oh, goodness,” she slapped her hand to her chest. “Excuse me.”
He pointed to the bottle of water in her hand. “Down that, or I’m going to be forced to scare you.”
She gulped down half, swallowed, and swiped her fingers over her lips to catch a stray drop. “You might be surprised to learn I don’t scare that easily. Ask Colt…or Reed, or Brock.” She gestured for the champagne bottle and he handed it over. “Which one of us was first to dive into the river from the high branch of the big oak tree that grew along the bank?” She swigged the champagne directly from the bottle, and then pointed the neck at her chest. “Me. Who got the garter snake out of the shed while those big, tough boys screamed and ran like scaredy-cats? Me again.” She punctuated the statement with another drink.
He held out his hand, and she passed the bottle over. “I had no idea you were such a thrill-seeker.”
He was teasing her, but not in a mean way, and she sensed a glimmer of admiration in those gray-green eyes of his. Then he tipped his head back to swig the champagne. The movement of his throat as he swallowed captivated her. Would he scream and run if she told him he was the thrill she sought right now? “I have a wild side.”
“Clearly. So tell me, little Miss Wild Side, why does a woman who stares danger in the face without blinking get the jitters at the prospect of being a bridesmaid?”
The muscles holding her smile in place gave out. “That’s different.” Feeling unduly exposed, she pulled her legs up, crossed them, and arranged the big robe so not even her toes stuck out.
Logan dropped his feet to the floor and leaned toward her, forearms resting on his knees, the champagne bottle dangling from his fingers. “Why?”
She picked at the ragged cuticle on her thumb. “You know why.”
He touched her leg, pulling her attention back to him—his patient eyes and slightly baffled grin. “No. I don’t. I know you’re shy, and I can extrapolate from that you don’t enjoy the spotlight, but it’s not as if you’ll be at the front of the church all by yourself. Colt and Kady will be there. Tyler, Reed, Brock, me, the bridesmaids—”
“The other bridesmaids make being up there worse, not better.” As soon as the admission left her lips, she wanted to crawl under the blankets and die.
Logan blinked and ran his palm over the back of his neck. “Um…you lost me.”
Of course she had, because she was a freak and he was Mr. Perfect. He’d probably never had an insecure thought in his life—never worried about suffering by comparison. But right now Mr. Perfect’s obtuseness worked her very last nerve. Or maybe the alcohol loosened her tongue.
She grabbed the bottle from him and took long, defiant drink. “Oh, come on, Logan. Four girls standing in a line, wearing the same blasted dress, while the entire church plays a real-life version of ‘Who Wore It Best?’ How would that possibly make me, the short, chubby, awkward girl, feel less self-conscious?”
He moved over to the bed and sat beside her. “You’re not chubby.”
“Thanks.” She pulled her legs up under her and twisted so she could look at him. A giddy part of her brain piped in with, Good lord, Logan McCade is sitting in bed with you. Start the seduction now. Say something hot! “That still leaves short and awkward.” Fail.
“You are short. I’m not going to lie to you. But the awkward is all in your head. Anyway”—he crossed his long legs and faced her, smiling the sexy smile that put the groove in his cheek—“cut me some slack. My mind is still reeling from what you just told me. I had no idea I signed up for the Pageant of the Groomsmen when I agreed to be Colt’s best man.”
She leaned closer to try and hit him with a smoldering gaze, and then had to grab the bedspread to keep from toppling over. “It’s not like that for guys, and you know it.”
He took the bottle back. “I don’t know anything anymore. You’ve upset my entire perception of the world with your insights into the secret thoughts of wedding guests. What if, while I’m standing there trying to be the best man, the guests are thinking Reed’s got better shoulders than me, and Brock’s got better hair, and Tyler’s got a better ass?” He drank deeply, and she suspected he was trying to finish the bottle so she didn’t drink anymore.