Not Quite Mine (Page 2)
Not Quite Mine (Not Quite #2)(2)
Author: Catherine Bybee
She hadn’t realized he’d hung back, and she felt a little trapped in his presence. “You clean up well yourself, Prescott.” Boy, did he clean up. He brushed his dusty blond hair that always seemed a little long, but at the same time, perfectly right, out of his eyes. His Texas drawl reminded her of home. She’d worked hard to rid herself of her accent when she was younger, thinking it made her sound stupid. Blonde and rich labeled her as dumb, which she fought for some time. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d become a doctor or a rocket scientist. The world looked at her as an heiress and treated her differently. Around her sixteenth birthday she’d snapped. Her hormones started to rage and her desire to be noticed ruled her brain. Her skirts rode high, her pants skintight. Those designer heels she loved so much pushed her height past most of the boys in school.
But the ones she wanted to look, didn’t.
Katie glanced into Dean’s eyes and quickly looked away. Her body tingled knowing he stood so close. The spicy scent of his skin made her want to lean in and take a deep breath. She fought her desire and found the silence between them painful.
She said the only thing she could think of, and then regretted her words instantly. “I’m sorry about Maggie.”
Dean’s jaw tightened. “It wasn’t meant to be.” Maggie had broken off her engagement to Dean a week before their wedding. According to Jack, there wasn’t an explanation as to why. Then she’d disappeared and asked that Dean not contact her.
“It must have been hard for you…watching Jack and Jessie.”
Lord knew if she’d been snubbed that close to matrimony, she’d never go to another wedding again.
The smile that always played on Dean’s lips fell. “It wasn’t hard at all.”
Katie wanted to tell him he was full of shit. If anyone knew his dreams, it was her. A wife and family had always been in his plans.
“Are you two coming or what?” Tom called from the door to the church.
Dean tilted his head, acknowledging Tom, then spread his fingers low on Katie’s back to usher her inside.
Heat spread up her body and licked every nerve ending in her skin. The memory of his hands slipping low on her hips, as he explored her lips with his own, washed over her. His hand jerked, as if he, too, shared the memory. He flexed his fingers and guided her forward.
Their time together was in the past, and best forgotten.
“So, what’s with you and Katelyn?”
The question hit Dean in the center of his chest and caused his feet to move in a direction he hadn’t planned. Luckily, Monica was ready for his dance floor flop and sidestepped his foot to avoid a broken toe.
“What do you mean?” Dammit, he thought he’d buried his memories deep in his head where no one could see them.
He was wrong.
“For starters, considering you’ve known her since grade school, neither of you talk to each other unless you have to.”
Dean glanced across the dance floor and watched Tom swing Katie around. The two of them were laughing and having a grand time being the center of attention. The only people currently on the dance floor were the wedding party. The traditional display of royalty every wedding reception took part in would probably be Dean’s only time spent in a woman’s arms that night. Despite his brevity with Katie earlier, watching his best friend get married had stirred memories best forgotten.
“And then there’s that,” Monica said.
“There’s what?” What were they talking about?
“I think a novel would call it a ‘stolen look.’ No, they’d call it a ‘stolen gaze.’ When Katie isn’t watching you, you’re watching her.”
Katie was impossible to ignore. Her long, shapely legs brought her height over five nine. Her curves had haunted him in high school, and threatened to destroy him as an adult. The blonde hair atop her head was as natural as her grace. She honed the ability to attract attention early in life and hadn’t seemed to tire of the spotlight yet. Her claim to fame came from several appearances on a reality TV show featuring other silver-spooned teenage girls. The tabloids often pegged her as an unintelligent heiress, but Dean knew better. She’d gone to college like all of their mutual friends, graduating with a degree in design and business.
Dean skirted his thoughts and focused on Monica. “You know, Monica, even I know it’s bad form to be dancing with one beautiful woman while talking about another.”
Her shoulders folded in with her laugh. “You’re dancing with me because you have to. Luck of the draw being paired with the maid of honor.”
“And here I thought you liked me.”
Monica was charming, witty, and beautiful. In another life, he’d have jumped at the chance to get to know her better. His record with Jack’s family and friends wasn’t exactly stellar…well, with Katie anyway. He knew better than to get involved with someone he’d have to see on a regular basis after the breakup.
His eyes drifted to Katie again.
Monica cleared her throat, snapping Dean’s attention back to her.
“My question is, are you thinking about what was? Or what might be?”
Dean danced around the query by reaching for Monica’s hand, spinning her. He knew for a fact Katie didn’t speak of her time with him any more than he did.
Monica slid back into his embrace with a smile. “I’m staying the whole week with her. If you won’t talk, she will.”
The confidences women laid out to each other were up to them. Being the home of a Y chromosome gave him the right to keep his feelings to himself.
Dean perfected the tight lip in high school. Too bad he hadn’t kept it that way over the last year. Now he lived with his mistake and went back to life’s early lessons. Mouth shut, ears open.
“Oh, fine,” Monica grumbled, giving up her quest for more information. “Give me some dirt on Tom.”
Dean hadn’t seen that twist coming. “So you like Tom?”
Monica managed one of those stolen glances over her shoulder, not realizing that Dean watched. “I didn’t say that. I’m just making conversation.”
Dean allowed a true smile of amusement to crest his lips. “Oh, darlin’, you’re a terrible liar.”
The dance ended and before long Jack had rounded up Dean along with Tom and Mike. He handed each one of them a shot of whiskey and stood back with a silly grin on his face.
“What are we toasting?” Mike asked before Dean had a chance to voice the question himself.