Do You Take This Man (49)

My words hung there. I imagined in a text exchange, I’d see the bouncing dots as I wondered how much I’d overstepped on the phone. The pause kept going. “Maybe,” she said finally. “I better go, but I’ll see you next weekend?”

I nodded, though she couldn’t see me. “Drive safe, Ruthie.”

I stared up at the stars and wondered what the hell I was doing and why I’d really wanted to hear her say we were friends, that something existed between us beyond just the mind-blowing sex. She hadn’t, though—so I needed to focus my attention elsewhere and get my head on straight before the destination wedding the following weekend.





Chapter 27


    RJ



“FANCY MEETING YOU here.”

I glanced up from my laptop. “Is it? You texted asking where I was,” I said, kicking out the chair across from me as Lear strode forward. I’d been responding to emails and reviewing a motion at the hotel’s rooftop bar before the rehearsal. We hadn’t seen each other since we’d fought and made up. He looked good in slacks and a pressed black shirt, the sleeves rolled over his forearms.

Lear slid into the chair and leaned back, his hair blowing slightly in the summer breeze. “Maybe I just meant that you tickle my fancy.”

I bit my lip to stop the giggle from escaping. An honest-to-God giggle. Who am I? “I don’t even know how to respond to that, other than to promise saying things like that is a solid way to make sure I never tickle your fancy or anything else again.”

He took a tortilla chip from the bowl I’d been snacking on and flashed one of those grins I pretended bothered me. They were still cocky, but maybe in a sweeter way now. Maybe he was just wearing down my defenses, which, admittedly, I realized weren’t fortified enough. I’d told him my real name, the nickname almost no one knew or used, and I hadn’t thought twice about it. Eric used it sometimes to tease me, but only because he’d won it when we bet on the outcome of a case. With Lear, it had just come out, like one more piece of me I’d been comfortable with him seeing.

“Help yourself,” I said wryly, motioning to the chips and finishing the last line of my email before hitting send. I grabbed my own chip. “Everything’s ready for tonight?”

“Of course,” he said, eyes intent on me. “I’m always ready. You know that.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. “And I’m always ready.”

This time I did laugh. “You’re in rare form today. We don’t have time to explore whether you’re ready or not.” I glanced at my watch and tucked my laptop into my bag. “We’re supposed to be downstairs in ten minutes.”

When I agreed to officiate this destination wedding, I had thought a little time on the beach and a few cocktails would be the best part. A quickie in an actual bed without worry of being caught hadn’t been part of my expectations for the trip, but with his hint, I thought about it. Maybe that kind of thing would be the reset button to put us back in the safe friends-with-benefits territory versus this confusing intrusion of feelings.

Lear didn’t move from his spot across the table and took another chip from the bowl as I stood and put my bag over my shoulder, checking my watch. “We changed it to accommodate Grandma Florence, remember?” He tucked an arm behind his head and motioned me toward him after looking at his own watch. “Come back.”

“You never told me you changed the time.” I rested a hand on my hip and bit back the smile I felt rise when his eyes dipped, lingering on my breasts for a second, the heat in his gaze making me want to pull him into the elevator.

“I did tell you,” he said, returning to my face.

“You never—”

“RJ.” He wrapped his hand around mine and tugged me back to the table, the warmth of his fingers on my skin so familiar.

“You think I’ll let that slide because you’re cute?”

When he laughed, and I remembered how his breath against the back of my neck felt, a shiver ran through me. We weren’t strangers to each other’s bodies, but just sitting and talking . . . this was new.

“You think I’m cute.” He still had my hand as I returned to the seat I’d been occupying. “I emailed you last night, and you’re going to read me the riot act about not communicating and then check your officiant email and have to eat your words.” He kissed my knuckles and then let my hand go. “I’m saving you the trouble.”

“How very thoughtful.” I’d never had to convey sarcasm when my mind was spinning from a kiss to my hand, but there I was, pretending the act hadn’t thrown me.

“Plus, if we start fighting, you won’t be smiling like that anymore.”

I tilted my face toward the railing surrounding the rooftop, the sky beyond a brilliant blue. “What makes you think arguing with you wouldn’t make me smile?”

“True.” Lear’s long fingers grazed the table, and I thought about the feel of them on my body, at the back of my neck. “Do you want to get together after the rehearsal?”

“Maybe.” Of course I did, but I didn’t want him to know how much I’d been looking forward to it. How much I’d started looking forward to him. “I have a big case I’m on now and I might need to get some work done, so we’ll see.” Did using work as the rationale soften the noncommittal response? I didn’t usually care if I let a sexual partner down, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.