Falling for the Groomsman (3 page)

Between the lines, of course.

She shoved her chair back from the table with shaking hands. She wobbled on her feet, trying to keep her balance. The last thing she needed right now was to fall face-first onto the floor. “I-I need some air. I can’t
breathe
in here.”

Regan reached out and grabbed her elbow. “How much did you drink?”

“Apparently not enough.” Christine offered her a smile. “But I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“You know I was just messing—”

“I
know
,” Christine said, stumbling away and beelining for the door. Wait. Was Regan saying she knew about Christine and Tyler? But she couldn’t. “W-We’ll talk later.”

Regan let her go, but she watched her with a furrowed brow. Even though Christine knew she was worried, she couldn’t take the time to reassure her right now. She needed to get out, escape Tyler’s overwhelming presence, and start using her spicy romance novel tricks—such as going down on a guy in public—on someone who didn’t make her heart involuntarily stop and her toes curl.

Chapter Three

Tyler ran a hand through his hair and rocked back on his heels, trying his damned best to ignore Christine. The fact that he could
feel
her eyes on him was not a good sign of how this week was going to go. Not that it came as much of a surprise. He’d spent the last eight years trying to drown himself in his work and in saving the world, one bloody surgery at a time.

It was kind of his
thing
, taking care of people. He was good at it, too.

But seeing her was hauling his ass back to the time he went down to Mexico with his sister and her friends. Back to the time when he’d taken advantage of the shy but fiery redhead, then ran from her afterward. That? Not so fucking
good
of him.

She’d been gorgeous, lonely, and grief-stricken. He’d wanted to help her. Heal her. If he’d known she was untouched, he never would have touched her. He shouldn’t have in the first place, but the whole virgin thing had just been the icing on top of the huge portion of guilt cake he’d been served.

The girls had been eighteen, and in their first year of college. That in and of itself was asking for trouble. He’d been fresh out of med school about to embark on a crazy adventure with Doctors Without Borders. The vacation had been a great chance to get some downtime before his departure, keep an eye on the girls, and spend some time with his sister before he left.

But when Christine had slipped away from the group on the last night, he’d followed her to make sure she was okay. He’d found her alone, sobbing and struggling to open her hotel door, and he hadn’t hesitated. Hadn’t thought. He’d just pulled her into his arms to comfort her. Though his intention had been to offer her a shoulder and dry her tears—maybe say something witty to bring out the smile he’d come to treasure so damn much—she’d looked up at him with those wide blue eyes and he’d…just fucking broken.

He didn’t have another word for it, even if that one didn’t make any sense.

The second he’d wrapped his arms around her, something inside him shifted. As if he needed to kiss her to make her feel better. As if kissing her would make
him
feel better. It had been obvious and frightening. The second their mouths met, her soft lips trembling under his, everything felt right.
Perfect
.

And now, here they were. Should he say something to her? Break the silence? But what was he supposed to say?
Sorry for popping your cherry and not talking to you for eight years. But, hey, can I buy you a drink?
Somehow, that didn’t seem sufficient for the hatred she must feel for him by now.

Unable to resist, he looked her way again. Her deep-red hair shone in the dim candlelight, making her stand out among the roomful of blondes and brunettes. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he knew they would be as blue as the sky on a summer day.

When she smiled…ah, when she smiled, an adorable dimple popped out to play. She only had one—not two. He knew she hated it. He’d once told her he thought it was adorable. Still did.

An elbow slammed into his ribs, and Kady hugged him tight. “You’re here!”

“Of course I’m here,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice muffled by his chest. “Maybe a little bit. You’re always in some crazy country or another.”

He sighed and let go of her. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world and you know it.”

“Yeah, well, you
are
a hotshot chief now.”

Kady, of course, referred to his promotion at work in Portland, Oregon. He’d been named the newest chief of Emergency Medicine at Good Samaritan Hospital. He’d come back to the States just a month or so ago, and would be staying for at least a year before he’d take a leave of absence to return overseas.

He knew that sooner rather than later, he would get that itch to travel again. He was like an adrenaline junkie, and his rush of choice was helping people who couldn’t otherwise get help in dangerous places. It would only be a matter of time before that was his life again.

“Hey. Pay attention to me.” She poked him in the ribs. “You look like you’re miles away…
again
.”

He smiled down at his little sister. Her brown hair was smooth and shiny, and she looked so damn happy. It was a little crazy that it was his childhood friend who’d made her feel that way, but whatever. “Sorry, it didn’t tell me I should pay attention to you on my itinerary. It just said ‘bridesmaids to gather for drinks in the Osprey Lounge.’”

“Oh, stop teasing. I know how you like to be in control all the time—admit it. You love it,” Kady said, hugging him tightly and laughing. “Julie went above and beyond.”

“I noticed,” he said drily. “Is there really a scavenger hunt?”

“Yep! This is going to be the most epic wedding ever, and I expect you to show up at every single event, no matter how big of a title you have in front of your name now.” She beamed at Colt, who’d been standing by her side silently throughout the whole conversation. “I’m so happy we’re all here together.”

“Congrats on the job, by the way,” Colt said, nodding his head. “That’s a big jump.”

“Thank you.” He shook Colt’s hand, trying not to glower at him. Because he was happy for them. He really was. But he was still wrapping his head around the fact that his old buddy was about to become his future brother-in-law…and seeing his little sister naked on a daily basis. It was fucking weird. “But the real congrats go to you for marrying my sister.”

“Of course,” Colt agreed, his warm eyes on Kady. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Kady and Colt shared one of those wordless exchanges that couples could do. He’d like to think he would find the same kind of happiness, one day. If he ever got to the point where his career didn’t own him body and soul.

As if on their own accord, his eyes strayed to where Christine sat. She shoved back from the table and stood up unsteadily. When she wobbled, looking as if she might tumble, he stepped forward—which was a stupid move. He was too far away to catch her, anyway. What had he expected to do? Grow extend-o-arms to save the girl? He’d already tried to be her savior in Mexico, and look how lovely that turned out.

When she righted herself and headed for the door, everything inside him shouted to follow her. But their last encounter had been a huge failure. He’d rehearsed a whole fucking speech in his head when he’d walked down the hall to get ice, and she had run away. Hell, he deserved it. Once upon a time he’d run from her, too. Karma was a bitch.

He forced his attention back to his sister. Kady wobbled on her feet. This time, he
was
close enough to catch the girl. He steadied his sister, holding her in his arms, and shot her a disproving glance. “Jesus. How much did you girls drink before we got here?”

She snorted. “Enough to laugh at the look you’re giving me.”

“Don’t worry, Tyler. She’s not your responsibility anymore.” Colt held his arms open. “I’ll take her off your hands.”

She wasn’t his to protect anymore, and that was something he’d have to get used to. Kady was right when she said he liked being in control. He liked knowing all was well with those he cared about. But he would have to back off. He released her, and she moved into Colt’s arms. Colt hugged her close, his whole body relaxing the second she touched him.

That
was what love looked like.

Tyler met the future groom’s eyes. “Are you going to make sure she doesn’t get this wasted on your honeymoon?”

Colt rolled his eyes. “Please. If anything, I’ll be helping her
get
wasted. She’ll be my wife, not my little sister.”

Tyler cocked his brow, unable to resist a little bit of teasing. “Maybe I should come along, just in case, and make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble. You know, like in Mexico.”

“Come?” Kady squeaked, her face going pale. “Obviously he’s kidding.” She looked up at Colt. “Right?”

“No,” Tyler said innocently, crossing his arms. “Why would I be kidding about something like that? Someone has to keep you two under control.”

Kady’s eyes widened. “Yeah. Sorry. You’re not coming on our honeymoon.”

Colt nodded. “I’m in full agreement with my soon-to-be wife.”

“I know. I’m just teasing, of course.” He forced a shudder and threw in a dramatic gag for Kady’s enjoyment. “I have no intention of joining you on
that
trip.”

She giggled. “Good.”

“You got that right,” Colt said, grinning. “I love you and all, man, but there’s no way in hell you’re coming on my honeymoon.”

Kady tucked her hair behind her ear and looked over her shoulder. “Did you say hi to Mom and Dad yet? They snuck into my bachelorette party, and are over in the left corner with Aunt Meredith, waving at me wildly. I think they’re telling us to come over.”

“I haven’t had the chance.”

His gaze sought out Christine again. She made her way to the door, but stopped to talk to a short woman Tyler didn’t recognize. Christine’s gaze collided with his before skittering away. Her cheeks flushed red, and she clung to her purse so tight it became a mangled mess in her hands.

“Ugh. Come on.” Kady held her finger up to their parents. “We’ll go say hello to them, then I’ll see if I can round up the girls and the rest of the groomsmen for some real fun.”

He started to follow her, but stopped. He hesitated, shifting on his feet. “Um…give me a second. I’ll catch up in a few.”

“You can’t send me in there alone.”

He backed up a tiny step, his eyes on the door. “I just need a second, okay?”

She shot him a look, but he turned on his heel and followed Christine out the door as inconspicuously as he could manage. He crossed the room quickly, not wanting her to hit the elevator before he had a chance to catch up.

After shoving through the doors, he came to an abrupt halt.

Chapter Four

Tyler stood there, his breath coming unevenly and his heart leaping at the sight of her. She leaned back against the wall, her eyes on her phone. She casually swiped her finger over the screen, clearly not concerned enough to look up and see who had followed her outside. Or maybe she already knew?

Her wavy red hair tumbled down her shoulders¸ falling halfway down her back, and she continued silently chanting something. His fingers itched with the need to bury themselves inside her waves. To find out if her hair felt as good as he remembered.

It couldn’t be. No one had hair that damned soft.

She wore a black dress that fell above the knee, and a pair of red heels that belonged over a man’s head, not on the ground. No. Scratch that. Not any man’s head.

His
head.

When she bit down on her plump pink lip, a fist of desire clenched in his gut, squeezing tight. Shit. Forcing himself to stop checking her out like a starved man looking at a steak dinner, he cleared his throat. Christine startled and her eyes focused, zeroing in on him within seconds.

She fisted her hands and her gaze dipped low. He forced himself to stand still and let her look her fill, just as he had with her. And,
fuck
, did she look.

Her gaze skimmed over him, seemingly taking in every detail. When she bit down harder on her lip, her cheeks becoming suffused with a charming blush, his stomach tightened in response. She met his eyes again; he forced himself to smile in what he hoped was a casual manner and didn’t come across as
I must have you
.

“Hey, Red.”

She stiffened, returning her attention to her damn phone. “It’s Christine.”

“Not to me.” He shrugged. She’d liked his nickname for her in Mexico, but she didn’t anymore? Oh well. He liked it, so he’d use it. He’d called her Red for the obvious reason—her hair—but also because of her fiery spirit and the way she blushed whenever he’d come too close to her. Just like she was doing now. “To me, you’ll always be Red.”

“Oh, how cute.” She cocked her head and offered him a fake smile. Oh, she didn’t mean for it look that way, but he knew when someone was faking it. As an ER doctor he dealt with liars daily. He knew when someone was bullshitting him. “But you lost the right to have any cute little names for me when you left me that night.”

And there they were, at the heart of their issue. Had he expected any less? Her straight talking is what made her such a damn good investigative journalist. She wouldn’t waste any time getting to the good stuff. “Yeah. I’m sorry I did that.”

“I got that message when you ran away from me mumbling ‘Oh my God’ over and over again,” she drawled, slipping her phone into her small purse. “But thanks for the late apology.”

He flinched. “That was the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done, I’ll admit it. But I went down there to protect you girls, not to fuck one of you.”

She crossed her arms and gave him an appraising look. “Looks like I won the unexpected prize package then, huh?”

“No.” He eyed her. He could read her like a book. She intimidated people by being on the offensive, making them back down. It wouldn’t work with him. “I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.”

“Not really. I
do
know, though, that when you’re about to come, you close your eyes and your fingers tighten on my hair before you tug—”

“Jesus.” His stomach clenched and he took a step toward her, but pulled himself short. “How the hell do you remember that shit?”

“I have a good memory.” She crossed her arms and grinned. “Once I see or feel something, I never forget.”

“Maybe you need to,” Tyler said, thinking of her
photographic memory
of him running away like a scared fucking pansy in Mexico. “Some things aren’t worth remembering.”

Her smile slipped a little, but she forced it back into place. What game was she playing? “I remember it all, you know. Do you?”

Did she remember all of those details? It had been eight years. Sure, he remembered them, too, but that was different. He’d been older and completely sober. “Weren’t you too drunk to remember your name, let alone what we did?”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he wanted to take them back. He felt like an ass for having sex with her when she was under the influence in the first place. The last thing he needed was to remind her he’d done it.
Stupid asshole
.

She laughed, tossing her head back. “Actually, I wasn’t drunk at all.”

“You had three drinks.” He looked her up and down. “At your age and your size, you would have been at an approximately 0.28 percent blood alcohol concentration, which is way beyond drunk. I was a jerk for taking advantage of you, and I’m sorry.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear and averted her eyes. “That’s an awfully detailed calculation. Thought about it much over the years?”

“You could say that.” He clenched his jaw. “Like I said, I’m sorry.”

“Well, save your apologies for someone else.” She lifted a shoulder. “
You
had three drinks. I was too distracted watching you to drink, so there’s no guilt needed. I didn’t even drink that night.”

How had he missed her not finishing her drinks? Maybe he’d just been that taken in by her. She was more fun to watch than a fucking cup. “Oh.”

“I had sex with you because I wanted to. Because you made me feel good. Not because I was drunk and out of my head.” She cocked her head. “Can you say the same? Why did you do it?”

Heat swept through him, taking away some of the guilt that had been his companion for way too long. She’d been fully sober and still fucked him? Well, that changed a few things. It meant she’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her.

Also, he couldn’t believe how much she’d grown up. Last time he’d been this close to her, she’d needed him. Needed his help. She didn’t need him anymore…

But he might just need her.

He watched her, his fingers flexing. “You’ve changed. You’re bolder.”

Surprisingly, he found this version of Christine even hotter.

She raised her brows. “So have you, but I bet you’re still that same boy who runs away after sex—just all grown up.”

“I’ve outgrown that particular habit,” he said drily. “But I don’t take virgins to my bed anymore.”

“That might be so.” She stepped closer, uncrossing her arms. “But I bet you still leave afterward, even if it
is
for a different reason. Perhaps to avoid commitment? I’ve heard you’re not big on the whole long-term relationship stuff.”

He gritted his teeth. She was way too fucking spot-on for his liking. “And what do you know about me? It’s been eight years.”

She stepped even closer and ran a hand down his chest. His heart sped up at her featherlight touch. “I know you’ve avoided commitments and seem to love throwing yourself into your work. I know you feel more comfortable overseas in a jungle than you do here, in a hotel lobby. I know the last place you want to be right now is here, with me.” Her hand dropped. “Am I right?”

Damn it all to hell, she was too fucking good. He curled his hands into fists, refusing to touch her even though he couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing right now. “Pretty damn close except for the last part. I’m finding this whole encounter enlightening, to say the least.”

She smiled and bit down on the corner of her lip as if she tried to stop it. It was adorable and sexy all in one. Just like her. “How so?”

“Like I said, you aren’t the same person you were in Mexico.”

Her smile widened. “But I bet you are.”

“Care to find out?” he asked, crossing his arms. “We could—”

“Yeah. I don’t know about that.” She crossed her arms and considered him. “The last performance wasn’t all that great for me to revisit it. Especially the ending.”

Wait. What? He hadn’t been talking about revisiting the bedroom, for God’s sake. He’d been talking about revisiting their
friendship
. But now she had to go and throw that insult out there? He growled. “The hell it wasn’t.”

“Don’t like the sound of that, Doctor?”

He stepped closer, his heart pounding. “Yeah, because I know you liked it. Don’t lie to me.”

She cocked a haughty brow at him, seeming completely and perfectly composed while
he
was about to flip his shit. “So now you presume to know my mind better than I do?”

She might get away with talking shit to other men she’d been with, but it wouldn’t fly with him. He backed her up to the wall, boxing her in. Leaning so close that their chests touched, he pressed his hands against the wall on either side of her head. Getting this close to her was dangerous and stupid and delicious all at once.

It felt fucking amazing.

She smelled like vanilla and some sort of flower perfume, just as he remembered. After all this time, she still smelled the same?

Now her scent would drive him insane.

He caught her gaze. “It might have been your first time, but it wasn’t mine. I know for a fact you enjoyed every single thing I did to you that night. Especially when I buried my head between those sweet legs of yours and made you scream my name so loudly you woke up the entire floor. There’s no faking the way your pussy clamped down on my finger when you came, Red.”

She bit down hard on her lower lip, and pink suffused her cheeks. “You talk to your patients that way, Dr. Dresco? That’s not a very professional bedside manner.”

“No,” he said, leaning even closer. His gaze fell to her plump mouth, and his stomach lurched. “I save it all for you.”

“Lucky me,” she replied, her breath coming out unsteadily despite her smooth expression. “You’re going to have to do more than dirty-talk me to get me to fall back into your arms.”

He ran a finger down her cheek, caught her chin, and tipped it up to him. “I bet you’d love it if I kissed you right here. Maybe you’d even like me to take you against the wall, just like I did in Mexico. For old time’s sake.” He pressed his hips against hers, rolling them in a gentle circle, and she let out a tiny moan. The sound went straight to his cock. “You could wrap your legs around my waist, and I could bury myself deep inside of you where you need me. All you have to do is ask me nicely.”

“I’m not asking you for anything,” she breathed, her eyes flashing a challenge at him. “So don’t hold your breath.”

He pressed closer, rolling against her core. “I noticed you haven’t asked me to let go of you yet, either.” He lowered his face to hers. “You want me to kiss you. Touch you. Fuck you.
Admit it
.”

Another small moan escaped her, and there was no denying the desire in her eyes. “Just do it already, damn it.”

Satisfaction, hard and deep, rushed through him like a storm. He slanted his lips down on hers, catching her moan with his mouth. The second their lips fused…all hell broke loose. Her nails dug into his shoulders, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out if she was pushing him away or pulling him closer. But he knew for damned sure that she kissed him back. Her lips parted, and the sound she made was for him.

He took advantage of the opportunity and slipped his tongue inside, seeking hers. When she curled hers around his, sucking gently, he groaned deep in his throat. He’d forgotten how amazing she tasted. It all came rushing back to him now.

Not just her taste, but the way she squirmed when he went down on her, offering tiny little pleas the whole time until she came…

This time, he wouldn’t forget a single detail.

Her nails dug deeper into his shoulders, and she slid them behind his neck and yanked him closer, deepening the kiss. Her teeth dug into his lip, but he pushed even more, needing all of her. He trailed his hands down her sides, his thumb brushing the curve of her breast, as he hauled her up against the wall.

She caught on quickly enough, wrapping her legs around his waist so tightly he’d swear he’d died and gone to fucking heaven. He rubbed his straining cock against her warmth, reveling in the broken moan that escaped her, and thrust against her. When she broke the kiss and tilted her head back against the wall, he bit down on her shoulder and slid his hand under her dress, palming her ass through the satin underwear she wore.

When his fingers brushed her inner thigh, he hesitated. She wasn’t a virgin anymore, but he needed to make sure she knew exactly what she was getting from him—hot sex. Nothing more, nothing less. And it wouldn’t be in the fucking foyer, either. It would be in a bed this time. “Do you want me to stop, Red?”

“No,” she moaned, her voice soft and breathy, and moved against him. “God,
no
.”

“Fucking A,” he growled.

He moved to slip his fingers inside her panties, eager to feel her wetness against him before he led them both upstairs to his room. But just as he was about to touch heaven…she stiffened in his arms. A door opened and a voice echoed in the empty hallway.

She smacked his arm. “Put me down. Your mom’s coming.”

Nothing like the mention of his mother to sour the mood. He pulled back and lowered her to her feet, helping her smooth the skirt over her thighs. Once she stood on her own, he dropped his hands to his side and stepped back. He couldn’t stop staring. She was fucking perfect, with her flushed cheeks and swollen lips and messed-up hair. “This isn’t over.”

She pressed her fingers against her lips and looked at him with wide eyes. “Yeah, it is. This wasn’t on my list.”

“Your list? What list?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Christine, I—”

“Tyler? Is that you?” his mom called out, her voice creeping closer.

Cursing inwardly, he turned and greeted the interruption with a false smile. “Yeah, Mom. Over here.”

He looked over his shoulder at Christine as he walked away. She stood there watching him, still looking as kissable as she had before he’d touched her. The whole time he chatted with his mom, he could think of nothing more than ending the conversation so he could finish what he’d started with Christine. The second she headed back inside the bar—with his assurances he would soon follow—he turned back to Christine. “Okay. What list were you—?”