The Wedding Trap (Second Service #1)(10)
Author: Adrienne Bell

"But you can’t bring a pretend boyfriend to the spring dance.”

"No, you can’t. That was why Charlie ended up having a karate competition that night."

"Karate? I guess I’m pretty hardcore."

"That you are."

The waitress arrived with their drinks. Charlie pressed a bill into her hand and told her to keep the change before Beth could reach inside her purse. Going by the look on the woman’s face, Charlie was a pretty nice tipper.

"After that I pulled him…I mean you…out of my pocket when ever I needed to save face. There were a couple of times in high school. One very memorable night in college. You once even saved me from going on a blind date with a co-worker’s cousin."

"I’m glad I could be of service."

Beth raised her drink in mock salute to him. He smiled and took a sip of his own.

"Isobel was the only one who knew the truth. She’s the only person I’ve ever trusted to see me, warts and all."

He quirked a brow.

"They’re metaphorical warts," she said.

“Of course."

Beth downed the rest of her martini. She looked down at the empty glass. "I could probably use another one of these.”

Charlie waved his hand to get the waitress’s attention.

He ordered and paid again before she could say anything. She wasn’t sure she liked the idea of being in debt to him. On the other hand, a couple of drinks was the least that he owed her.

He turned back to focus on her. His blue eyes had darkened in the dim light. The flicker of the candle on the table shimmered in his irises. Shadows fell across his cheeks, calling his features into stark relief. Damn, he was hot.

For a second, she didn’t care what kind of man he was. She didn’t care what he’d done in the past. All she wanted was to feel those lips again as they moved against hers. Maybe this time he’d press them against her neck. Or her earlobe. She was a sucker for earlobe kisses.

Moving lips. Crap. He’d just said something and she’d missed it because she’d been too busy making out with him in her mind.

"Excuse me?" she said.

He gave the wolfish smile again. Beth had the feeling he knew exactly where her mind had been.

"I was just wondering what made you bring up Charlie this time," he said.

Beth rolled her eyes dramatically. "That’s a story that I usually wouldn’t tell until I was three or four drinks into the evening."

"I have all night.”

He leaned back in his chair. His arms hung at his sides, loose and languid, but Beth could still make out the contour of muscle underneath his white oxford shirt. Those butterflies started fluttering again. Maybe another drink wasn’t such a good idea after all.

"Spencer and I used to date," she said.

“So you’ve said.”

"It didn’t end well."

He waited silently, and Beth wondered how much to tell him. He picked up his glass and took another sip. His eyes never left hers. Damn, there was something about that look that made her want to tell him everything. All of her secrets.

"It was a big mistake from beginning to end. Isobel warned me against it, but as usual, I didn’t listen."

"There’s no shame in making your own mistakes," he said.

"Yeah, well. I guess that makes me pretty shameless then."

He smiled. The butterflies multiplied.

"Anyway, about a week after our breakup I heard that Spencer was dating again," she said. "No problem, right? But then he kept dating. And I wasn’t. Sometimes I would run into him and his flavor of the week at Isobel’s. Sometimes I’d just see pictures."

"And you got jealous," he said.

Beth’s drink arrived, and she thanked the waitress.

"Not of Spencer. I didn’t want to get back together with him or anything. The whole thing wasn’t even a problem until Isobel got engaged. Then suddenly people were asking me who I was going to bring as my date to the wedding. My mother. Spencer. Everybody. That’s when Charlie made his grand return.”

“There wasn’t anybody, not in all that time?” he asked.

"Nobody that I liked enough to go out with," she said a little too emphatically. She winced and tried again. "I could have had dozens of guys, I’m sure. But I didn’t like any of them. I’d already made that mistake when I went out with Spencer. I didn’t want to repeat it."

Beth took a sip of her martini. It was good. Really good.

"Besides, Charlie was supposed to get everyone off my back. He always had before. This time he kind of took on a life of his own. People kept asking questions, and I kept answering. The lies got bigger and bigger until suddenly I found myself bargaining with a car thief in a hotel parking lot."

"Blackmailing, not bargaining."

She waved her hand in front of her. "Semantics."

His smile was wide and genuine.

"So there it is—my life story," she said. "I’m guessing that you’re not too keen on telling me yours?"

He slowly shook his head, his lips pressed tightly together.

She took another sip. A part of her wanted to push for more. It was only polite, after all, to give up a little dirt after someone spilled their guts. But somehow she knew that even if she begged, he wouldn’t answer.

She looked down and saw that her glass was empty. Again. She looked up. His eyes were on it too.

"I’m not really a lush," she said. "I don’t really drink much at all."

Her head was feeling floaty. All of her tension had been replaced by a warm, bubbly feeling that was far more pleasant.

"I can tell."

Beth didn’t hear any sarcasm in his voice. Or maybe she was too buzzed to notice it. She didn’t think so. He didn’t seem to judge her. She hadn’t once noticed that familiar look of disappointment in his eyes. Maybe that was why she liked him so much.

And she did. Dear God, she’d finally found a man she liked, and he was probably wanted in three states. Her mother would be so proud.

If only he was the gigolo that Isobel thought that he was. At least that would be a step up.

Beth couldn’t stop the laugh before it escaped her lips. Charlie’s look turned questioning.

"Nothing. It’s nothing."

He didn’t have to press, not with words. He just leaned forward in his chair, and something about his stare made her want to talk more.

"I was just thinking how much Fate likes having fun with me,” she said.

"You believe in Fate?" he asked.

"Not really," she said. "But it seems she certainly believes in me."

***

Alex didn’t pull away when Beth slipped her hand into his as they waited for the elevator. She curled her fingers around his, but didn’t try to pull him close. She just stood by his side, her warm palm pressed against his. There was nothing possessive or demanding in her touch.