Читать книгу Just for Today... - Emmie Dark - Страница 9

CHAPTER ONE

“YOU PROMISED ME SEX.”

Sean Paterson lounged against the wall, crossing his arms as he surveyed the room.

Despite the refinement of the five-star-hotel ballroom, the party was beginning to get out of hand. It was late, and the volume had risen in direct proportion to the consumption of alcohol. The dance floor was heaving. Women’s shoes had been abandoned, men’s coats left hanging limply on satin-covered chairs. On a nearby table, an overturned glass created a slowly spreading stain in the crisp, expensive linen cloth.

As weddings went, Sean figured this one would go down as a success.

“I did nossuch thing,” his brother slurred. Rob was looking flushed, but whether it was from champagne or the untold dizziness of his newlywed status, Sean wasn’t sure. Either way, he took big-brother pride in his little brother’s happiness, while also being simultaneously suspicious and—strangely—a tiny bit jealous of it.

He raised his eyebrows as he turned to Rob. “Yes, dear brother, you did. When you asked me to be your best man, I declined for all the sensible reasons we both understand all too well. But then you told me the ladies go gaga over a guy in a tux and the bridesmaids would be desperate to get in my pants, so I reluctantly capitulated. What you didn’t tell me was that, of said bridesmaids, one would be about-to-pop pregnant and the other would be jailbait.”

Rob swayed a little. “Yeah. Maybe I did. Sorry ’bout that.”

Sean straightened and slapped his brother on the arm. “Might want to take it easy on the grog, mate. Don’t want to disappoint your bride on her wedding night.”

Rob laughed. “Look at her. As if she isn’t going to pass out as soon as she hits the sheets.” There was an unmistakably fond warmth in his voice as he gestured to the dance floor, where Hailey was dancing with her friends. The flowers pinned in her hair were about to fall out and her frilly skirts were hitched up in her arms so she could show off all her steps to the ’80s retro hits the DJ had insisted on playing all night. If anything, she was drunker than Rob.

“Besides,” Rob said, awkwardly peeling off his black jacket, “when’ve I ever had to help you score? You do just fine on your own.”

Sean inclined his head in acknowledgment. Although he and Rob were close, they’d taken very different paths in life.

Rob and Hailey had met in their senior years of high school and there’d never been any question that they’d marry—it was just a matter of when. Sean knew that Rob had only slept with one other girl in his life—when he and Hailey had broken up for a few months during their university years—and Sean wasn’t sure if he approved of that. Surely it wasn’t right for a guy to commit himself to one girl—forever—without sampling more of what the world had to offer. But Rob insisted he knew what he wanted, and what he wanted was Hailey.

Sean’s life, in comparison was...different. Very different. Much to the despair of their parents. But despite all the family difficulties, they were still brothers, and so here he was. For Rob, he’d do just about anything—even face his mother’s frown and his father’s scowl and the general disapproving air from the rest of the snotty Paterson clan.

He scanned the room again. Weddings were so not his thing—family or otherwise. But there was—

“Who’s that?” Sean asked. He’d noticed the woman before, at the ceremony, but lost sight of her when he’d had to go with the wedding party and pose for a ridiculous series of photographs in ever-more-unlikely locations: the bustling kitchen of a Chinese restaurant, and on the tram tracks in the middle of one of Melbourne’s busiest city streets. For the couple of hours they’d been under the photographer’s control, Sean hadn’t been sure if she’d been trying to photograph them or get them killed.

“Who?” Rob asked.

Sean pointed with his chin across the room. She was hard to miss. Sitting at a table by herself, trying to look okay with that fact, but failing badly.

Bronzed brunette hair hung in waves down her back. Her burgundy evening dress was cut low in front and swept across her hips to fall in soft folds around her legs. They were great legs—Sean had noticed when she’d sat down in the church. From his vantage point, he’d had a great view of the generous split up the front that had parted and almost revealed all her assets before she’d primly pulled the two halves of the skirt together and covered herself from his sight.

It was one of those moments that Sean always noticed—a moment his writer’s brain took in and preserved for future character-revealing traits. Her little maneuver told him a lot about her: she’d worn an unmistakably sexy dress, and yet wasn’t quite comfortable in it. Intriguing.

“Oh, the brunette?”

Sean nodded.

“Yeah, that’s Hailey’s boss.”

“The vet?”

Rob nodded, his head bouncing as though it was attached to his neck by a spring. “Uh-huh.”

“Who’s she here with?”

“Oh, uh, I think she came on her own.” Rob was distracted by someone calling out to him from the other side of the room.

Sean stopped himself from rubbing his hands together. “Nice,” he said under his breath.

Rob heard and his attention abruptly returned to their conversation. “Sean, she’s Hailey’s boss.”

Sean didn’t miss the warning. “I’ll behave,” he said.

Before Rob could say anything more, the room was filled with the sound of cutlery clinking on glasses—a tradition that demanded the newlyweds kiss before the noise would stop.

“Oh, jeez, again?” Rob groaned.

The guests had been taking great delight in forcing Rob and Hailey to kiss as often as possible—and usually when they were on opposite ends of the room.

Sean gave Rob a shove toward the dance floor. “Better go do your husbandly duty.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Rob’s words were flat but his expression showed he was nothing less than thrilled about another chance to kiss his bride. He took a step toward the dance floor, but then paused and turned back. “Hey, man?” Rob settled a serious look on his brother. “Thanks. You know? Really. I know how much this sucked for you. I’m just glad you could be here.”

Rob grabbed Sean in a drunken embrace, and Sean found himself stepping into it, clasping his brother in return, slapping his back hard, then just hanging on. He’d had a key role in the wedding, but this was the first time they’d had the chance for a brotherly moment—every other minute of the day had been packed with tasks, obligations, and with Sean taking great care to avoid being alone with either or both of their parents.

Rob stepped back, blinking suspiciously.

Sean wasn’t about to get that soppy. Besides, unlike Rob, he hadn’t had much to drink—he’d learned from hard-won experience it was better to keep his wits about him when surrounded by his family.

He gave Rob another slap on the arm. “You’re welcome. Now go be a husband.”

Rob grimaced, but Sean watched his face transform as he headed to his bride, the frown turning into a goofy smile when Hailey did a clumsy pirouette and began to dance in his direction.

Poor sucker.

Sean turned his attention back to the room, scanning it before his gaze once again settled on the brunette. Hailey’s boss—she owned and ran the small vet clinic where Hailey was working while she finished her veterinary studies. Rob hadn’t told him her name. Oh, well, at least that gave him his opening.

* * *

JESS’S FEET WERE TWITCHING in their uncomfortable heels, and she hoped most people would mistake it as an urge to dance. Actually, it was an urge to get the hell out of here.

It had been a lovely gesture for Hailey, her veterinary nurse, to invite her to the wedding. It was wonderful to see Hailey looking so beautiful and so happy; she and Rob were the picture-book bridal couple. Jess had listened to all the wedding planning and prewedding nerves over the past few months, so it was nice to be here to see it all come together—especially knowing how much the whole thing cost. There’d even been a photographer in attendance from one of the glossy magazines—apparently a Paterson family wedding was a bigger deal than she’d thought. She also better understood some of Hailey’s bridezilla-style hysterics now, having met the indomitable Mr. and Mrs. Paterson, who presided over the event like a stern king and queen.

But at the moment, Jess wished she’d been able to find an excuse not to come. When Margie, the clinic receptionist and third team member of their tiny practice, had realized she wouldn’t be able to attend the wedding because it clashed with the Pacific-island cruise she’d booked with her husband, it had been too late for Jess to retract her acceptance.

At least if Margie had been here, Jess would have known someone. It wasn’t that she was a wallflower, really. It was just hard being the odd man out, so to speak, in a room full of people who otherwise all knew each other.

Unfortunately, she’d been seated at the table with Hailey and Rob’s university friends. Jess could understand the logic—a lot of them were single, too, and they weren’t family. But they were all Hailey’s and Rob’s age—making them at least ten to twelve years younger than Jess—and that made her feel like the grown-up who’d been seated at the kids’ table. While they’d made occasional polite attempts to include her, they’d spent most of the night getting very drunk and reminiscing about their shared history and university high jinks and pranks. It had been fun, at first, but it was only possible to stay enthusiastically interested in such things for so long.

Especially when she was sober.

How early could you politely leave a wedding reception, anyway? Weren’t you supposed to wait until after the bride and groom left?

She stifled a yawn as she watched the happy couple grooving on the dance floor. Didn’t look as though they were in any hurry.

The thought of her bed had never been more appealing.

Jeez, when had she turned into such an old, boring grump?

“You look like you could use one of these.”

A misty glass of champagne appeared in front of her and Jess looked up to see mischievous green eyes twinkling down at her with a predatory grin beneath.

“I, uh...” Her hand took the proffered glass more out of reflex than anything else, but her temporary wine waiter took that as encouragement and sat down beside her, placing his own glass on the table.

“I’m Sean Paterson. Best man. And you are?” he asked.

It was such a smoothly delivered line Jess’s instant reaction was to shoot him down, but he was the first person who’d approached her since her tablemates had all moved to the smoking area outside. At least with someone sitting with her, she wouldn’t look like such a loser.

Not to mention that he was the man she’d been trying hard not to stare at all afternoon. In this instance the term best man was more than a job description.

His short, rich brown spiky hair had been artfully arranged; his jaw showed the shadow of a beard that held more than a hint of ginger. Those mossy-green eyes had flecks of gold in them, making them look as if they were constantly sparkling—as if there was some joke going on that only he knew about. He was tall but not freakishly so—only just making it to six feet Jess would guess—a good thing because very tall men always made her feel uncomfortable about her own five-feet-four-on-a-good-day. His tuxedo fitted him perfectly; tailored to suit his broad shoulders and narrow waist.

He was, in short, devastatingly gorgeous.

And he was Hailey’s husband’s brother.

Jess knew all about him. She’d known his name was Sean before he introduced himself. He was a writer of comic books or schlock horror novels, or something like that, and a nomad, apparently, of no fixed address. The black sheep of the Paterson clan—the one they didn’t like to talk about at family gatherings. He’d dropped out of his accounting degree at university and run away. There had been, according to Hailey, a massive fight over Rob’s insistence on having his older brother as his best man.

He was also—what were the words Hailey had used? Oh, yeah—irresponsible and reckless and immature. Hailey said they were the adjectives his own mother invoked.

Sean was the center of most of Hailey’s more extreme hysterics about all the things that could go wrong on her wedding day. Sean would forget the rings. Sean would refuse to wear the suit properly. Sean would bring a hooker as his date. Sean would simply not turn up.

Jess had listened patiently to Hailey’s rants. Listened, while secretly thinking that Sean sounded kind of thrilling, only to silently chastise herself immediately. She had appalling taste in men. Her attraction to Hailey’s brother-in-law-to-be, just from a description of his faults and the potential chaos he could cause, was yet further proof of that.

When she’d seen him standing at the front of the church next to Rob, she’d inwardly sighed. Of course he was the most attractive man she’d seen in years. Of course that would be how it worked.

He was hot. And so off-limits it wasn’t funny. Not that anything like that was likely. It just wasn’t something she did these days.

Yep. Somehow, when she hadn’t been paying attention, she’d turned into a miserable old spinster who preferred to be at home in her slippers than dancing the night away in heels.

What a depressing thought.

“I’m driving,” she said, putting the glass he’d handed her on the table. But she twisted a little in her seat to face him. It would be rude to ignore him, after all, and there was no harm in talking. “Thank you anyway.”

“Strange name.”

“Sorry?”

“‘I’m driving.’ It’s a strange name.”

He was teasing her because she hadn’t answered his question. She thought for a moment for a witty comeback but nothing sprang to mind. “Jess. Jess Alexander,” she said in the end. Really sparkling repartee there, Jess.

“What kind of car?” he asked, putting his own champagne down on the table untouched.

“Huh?”

“What kind of car do you drive?”

“Oh, a Subaru. Station wagon.” A sensible car that was large enough to transport animals occasionally but not too large to maneuver in the city.

He nodded, looking as if he was waiting for something. Finally Jess caught on.

“What kind of car do you have?” she asked politely.

“My car was used for the wedding.”

“Ah. Yes, of course.” Jess remembered that particular conversation with Hailey now. It was the one thing that Rob had insisted on for the wedding—apart from having his brother as best man. He’d been adamant that they use his brother’s pride and joy as the bridal car. Hailey had cried buckets because she’d wanted white limousines, not a red ’70s vintage muscle car with black stripes down the hood.

It had been Jess who had suggested that perhaps the groom should have just one thing in his own wedding that he’d decided upon. Jess had tried—gently—to advise Hailey that a great deal of marriage was about compromise. But then her own marriage had not exactly been a shining example to hold up for comparison, so once the irony of the conversation had occurred to her, she’d shut up and kept her advice to herself.

Something of that conversation must have penetrated Hailey’s wedding-addled mind, though, because in the end, Rob had been given final say over the wedding cars. And truly, Jess had thought the car was a fun and quirky touch this afternoon as the happy couple had climbed into it outside the church.

“It’s a nice car,” Jess said, as she knew she was expected to.

He looked pleased, and Jess steeled herself for a conversation about carburetors and horsepower. The guy was too good-looking not to be totally self-absorbed. But he surprised her by asking instead, “So, do you know many people here?”

He sat sideways in the chair, resting his arm over the back. It made his jacket gape, revealing the crisp white of his shirt, and sending a ribbon of his scent in Jess’s direction. Something spicy and forbidden, rich and romantic. Something unique and penetrating among all the clamoring smells in the room: food, wine, flowers, the suffocating perfume of the older woman at the table beside them.

“Not a soul,” Jess admitted.

“Me, either.” He leaned forward and said it in a whisper, as if he were confessing a sin.

“But what about your family?”

He gave a twisted smile that hid as much as it revealed. “Well, I know Mom and Dad of course. Be a bit strange if I didn’t. But I’m not really... Well, Rob’s the one who’s good at keeping up with all the rellies. Wouldn’t know my great-aunt Sally if I fell over her.”

As if to prove his point, a ruddy-faced portly man clapped him on the shoulder as he walked past. “Sean!”

Sean gave Jess a highly amusing “uh-oh” look before tilting his head up to the man. “Uncle Stuart.”

“Good to see you.”

“You look well.”

“You, too, son. You still off doing those funny books or have you got a proper job now?”

“Uh—”

Uncle Stuart didn’t give Sean a chance to answer. “No, that’s what I thought. When are you going to get your head into gear and go back and finish that accounting degree so you can join Paterson Associates?” His tone was jocular, but there was no missing the fact that Uncle Stuart wasn’t joking.

A flash of something crossed Sean’s face, too quick for Jess to really analyze it, but if she’d had to guess she’d call it anger. And it was totally understandable. Uncle Stuart was being incredibly rude.

But then Sean was smiling that carefree, easy smile again. “How’s Auntie Laura?” he asked pleasantly.

“She’s good, good. And you are?” Uncle Stuart leered at Jess, sending a puff of foul breath over her along with his lecherous gaze.

“I’m Jess, Jessica Alexander.” She introduced herself for the second time in as many minutes.

“Jess is Hailey’s boss. She’s a vet,” Sean added.

Jess started with surprise. He knew who she was? Why had he asked her name?

“Well, you just be careful with this one then, Sean.” Uncle Stuart gave a wink that made Jess want to cringe, and she saw that dangerous flash pass through Sean’s eyes again. “Don’t need Hailey to find she doesn’t have a job when she gets back from her honeymoon!” Uncle Stuart chuckled as if he was the most amusing man in the room before stumbling off to share his halitosis with others.

Sean blinked a couple of times, as if mentally erasing the incident from his memory. “Where were we?” he asked.

Jess found herself tilting forward. She told herself it was just to move away from the pungent aroma Uncle Stuart had left behind, but that wasn’t true. She felt as if Sean was somehow magnetic, and like an iron filing she couldn’t help but draw close to him.

It wasn’t as if anything was going to happen, so taking a deeper whiff of him couldn’t hurt.

“I think we were talking about cars.”

“Really? I’d much rather talk about you.”

Again with the cheesy line. Somehow, he managed to carry it off. Maybe it was his seemingly unshakable confidence.

“I’m not that interesting,” Jess said, as flippantly as she could manage. She was enjoying flirting with him. It felt fun and kind of dangerous. Things she hadn’t let herself feel in far too long.

“Now, I think that’s a lie.”

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow and twisted in her seat to echo his posture. Like exercising a long-atrophied muscle, something inside her began to warm up.

“Really. You’re certainly the most interesting woman in this room.”

Jess managed to stop herself rolling her eyes. But only just. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

“Because you’re the only person here I want to talk to.”

He managed to sound so sincere when he said it that it didn’t even sound like a line. Jess was rapidly realizing Sean deserved the reputation Hailey had reported. He clearly worked hard for it. The polar opposite to his responsible, down-to-earth younger brother, who’d joined the family accounting firm and married his high school sweetheart. Sean had a woman in every town—in every suburb, if Hailey was to be believed.

He’d be good in bed, then.

The thought sent a wave of heat through her body. It had been a while. Too long, really.

She shook it away. “And why’s that?” she countered.

“Everyone else is incredibly dull. I know. I’ve pretty much worked the entire room. Not an original thought to be found.”

“So I’m just the best of a bad lot? Hmm, that’s very flattering.” Jess stroked a lock of hair behind her ear before she realized what she was doing.

The side of his mouth quirked and she watched his eyes follow the movement of her hair before returning to meet her gaze. “You could see it that way, I suppose.” He leaned back languidly, one hand toying with a crumpled menu card on the table. “Or you could see it as an opportunity.”

Jess gave him an exaggerated quizzical look. “An opportunity? An opportunity for what?” She ran her fingers around the misty stem of the glass of champagne on the table. Oh, how easily the old moves came back!

“To get to know me better.”

That was too much; Jess couldn’t hold in her laughter.

Sean pouted, faking a hurt look. “My lady, you wound me.” He clapped one palm to his chest, over his heart.

His chest would be firm, she’d bet. Hairy or not? His high collar and bow tie allowed for no hints, and the shirt was fastened with those special tuxedo studs that matched his cuff links. Jess had never played with those before. A wicked impulse came from nowhere. It made her fingers itch to undo that tie and open the shirt, button by button, to reveal his skin and satisfy her curiosity.

She raised her eyes to his and realized some of her thoughts must have been painted on her face. The green of his eyes had turned forest-at-dusk dark, and his body was poised with a careful stillness.

The stillness of a predator about to strike.

A sudden jolt of nerves shot through her belly. Be careful, Jess. It was all very well to play games, but when you had no intentions of following through, the line in the sand had to be very clear. “I, uh,” Jess began, not entirely sure what she was going to say.

He leaned forward, a fraction, and his hand reached for hers, peeling her grip from the stem of the wineglass and taking her hand lightly. He didn’t clasp it tightly, just let her fingers loosely sit in his palm. His own fingers moved almost imperceptibly to stroke the inside of her wrist.

Jess felt the touch echo throughout her body, resonating loudest in the parts that had been empty for too long. Her breath caught and a slow burn of arousal lit deep inside her.

Oh, it had definitely been far too long. A thrill of anxiety went through her—nerves and excitement all wound up together. Was it time to remedy that? Could she possibly let something like that happen?

From everything Jess had heard from Hailey, Sean was the epitome of the love-’em-and-leave-’em type. No permanent address, he’d been dragged to town for the wedding and would be disappearing again as soon as he could—much to Hailey’s relief.

If a girl wanted some casual, no-strings-attached sex, Sean Paterson was probably the perfect choice. But he was Hailey’s brother-in-law, and Jess didn’t want her sex life—or lack thereof—to be workplace gossip.

Excuses, excuses, the wicked impulse from within tutted. You want to be alone the rest of your life? You really want to be defined by failure forever? You’ve got to start somewhere....

Jess took a quick glance at the dance floor where Hailey and Rob were drunkenly clutching each other as they swayed to the music. It wasn’t as if they would notice. And she doubted Sean was the kiss-and-tell kind.

But there was one more thing. Sean was Rob’s older brother, she knew that, but he still had to be significantly younger than her. It just wasn’t...proper.

The fact that all this thinking was required had to be a sign, too.

She managed a strangled-sounding laugh as she extracted her hand from his, feeling her cheeks heat and hoping her flush wasn’t too obvious.

“If I only wounded you, clearly my sword isn’t as sharp as it used to be,” she said.

“Perhaps you just need more practice.” He didn’t seem deterred in the slightest.

“At fighting?”

“If that’s what’s on offer, I’ll take it.” He gave her a lopsided smile, the kind of charming, disarming look that had undoubtedly broken hearts all across the country.

Jess was afraid it was about to be her undoing, as well.

She licked her lips, wondering if there was any lipstick left on them. “You should be more careful. You don’t know much about your opponent.”

“True. But I like what I’ve seen so far.”

This time Jess did roll her eyes. A girl had her limits. “Does this shtick really work for you?”

His expression turned suddenly serious and he shifted forward, elbows on his knees, fingers interlaced, his face mere inches from hers. She could feel the heat of his legs where they bracketed her own. He’d well and truly invaded her personal space, and Jess would have edged away, but her back was right against the chair and there was nowhere to go.

“What would you prefer?” he asked, eyes boring into hers.

“What? In terms of a seduction?” She held his gaze when she said it, just to see if he flinched. He didn’t.

“Is that what this is?”

“Isn’t it?”

He seemed to give the matter some thought. “I’d probably call it flirting, but, yeah, I guess if we break it down, seduction probably better expresses my eventual goal.”

There was something incredibly appealing about confidence like that. In any other circumstances, it would be annoying as hell, but right here, right now, it was definitely working for him. And for her—despite the butterflies tangoing in her belly.

She couldn’t help but smile. “You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I can be. When the moment calls for it.”

“How old are you?”

A quick frown creased his forehead. “Twenty-eight. Why?”

“I’m thirty-five.”

“And?”

“And?” He was incredible. “I’m seven years older than you.”

“So?”

“Do you even remember when this song came out?” Jess gestured to the dance floor where wedding guests were bopping away to a song Jess fondly remembered from her high school days.

“I prefer classic rock from the sixties and seventies. This pop stuff is giving me a headache.”

Jess sighed. He didn’t get it.

A woman called out Sean’s name from the other side of the room. Jess looked over and saw her wave and head their way—Rob and Sean’s mother in an imposing teal-green suit. Her hair was a solid helmet of hairspray and not a strand of it moved as she strode toward them. The chunks of diamonds in each ear and around her throat sparkled almost blindingly.

“Isn’t that your mother? Does she want to talk to you?”

Sean glanced up and a pained expression crossed his face. “Not now, Mom,” he called out to the woman who was still three table lengths away.

“But, Sean—”

“Later.” He dismissed her with a careless wave.

Mrs. Paterson stopped with an expression so wounded, Jess almost wanted to make Sean apologize. But then she shot her son a look that would curdle milk and threw up her hands in exasperation. She mouthed the word typical and rolled her eyes before turning back the way she’d come. Sean didn’t see any of that, Jess noted; his gaze was back on her, and it was as if the interruption had never happened.

“Let’s dance.”

“Huh?”

“Come on.”

Jess wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but a moment later she found herself being pulled to the dance floor, her hand clasped firmly in Sean’s. He found a small clearing and let her go, turning to face her. He shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable, and raised his hands in a halfhearted accompaniment. Jess began swaying her hips, just as the boppy pop song came to a close. They were left standing, facing each other, as the strains of one of her favorite Madonna ballads began. The floor began to clear around them, hot and sweaty dancers muttering how they were grateful for a break, leaving behind couples happy to enjoy a slow dance together.

“Well, this is awkward,” she muttered.

“Sorry, I’m a crappy dancer.” He didn’t sound especially broken up by that fact. Was his confidence really that unshakable?

“It was your idea.”

“I know. Here.”

There were still a few other couples dancing, and Sean seemed to look around for inspiration before pulling Jess close, his hands resting on her lower back. Jess had no choice but to put her hands on his shoulders—solid and warm, even through the padding of his jacket.

As dances went, it wasn’t going to score them any points in a competition. But they found an easy rhythm and no one seemed to be commenting on their ineptitude.

Jess found herself staring at the shiny tuxedo buttons on his shirt, her thoughts running a million miles a minute with ideas that she had no business entertaining.

Hailey’s brother-in-law.

She should definitely not be thinking about seeing him naked. Or about what kind of kisser he’d be. Certainly not about how good he smelled, or how, if she just stepped a little closer, she’d be pressed full-length against his body. Definitely not about how his fingers were stroking her back gently through her dress, and the touch was sending ripples of sensation to other, needy, parts of her.

Until this moment she hadn’t realized how much she missed being touched.

Sean said something, but she missed the words, feeling the rumble of them instead. She looked up. “Sorry?” Luckily she’d started to speak before her eyes met his, because once they did, her breath seemed to stop somewhere halfway in her throat. He was wearing that half grin again, eyes sparkling mischievously.

“I said, you look very serious.”

“This is a serious song.”

“I guess.” He dismissed her comment with all the gravity it deserved—none—before nudging Jess’s knee with one of his own. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“What? We can’t leave. They haven’t cut the cake yet.” As much as she’d spent the past two hours desperate to get out of here, Sean’s offer of escape made her stomach flip unpleasantly at the same time as that little voice in her head cheered her on.

“Oh, like anyone’s going to notice.”

“You’re the best man.”

“Yeah, but my job’s done for the day. Get the groom to the wedding, check. Hand over the rings, check. Make the speech at dinner, check. That’s it.”

“It was a very good speech,” Jess said. Sean had spoken easily and confidently—no surprises there. He’d given a couple of the requisite humorous tales from Rob’s past and done a lovely job of sincerely wishing the happy couple a bright future. As he’d taken the microphone and begun to speak, the apprehensive and then relieved looks on the entire wedding party’s faces had to have been obvious to the whole room.

He dismissed her praise with a wave. “Thanks. So, ready to go?”

Those green eyes were staring down at her, half daring, half asking. The dare part appealed to the reckless streak that Jess mostly kept hidden—and that had certainly not seen the light of day in recent times. It was an impulse that had given her, among other things, a tattoo of a tiny star on her butt, a scar under her chin from a fall down a flight of stairs in a nightclub in Amsterdam and an occasional back twinge that hadn’t been there before she’d bungee jumped over a river in New Zealand.

“Go where?” she asked.

He dropped his hands from around her and Jess stepped back, her body already mourning the loss of contact. Sean reached into his pocket. “For a drive,” he said. His hand emerged and he threw a set of keys in the air before catching them again in one hand.

He took a step toward the exit, arm outstretched, one eyebrow arched in question. His eyes glinted with challenge.

Jess hesitated. “Just a drive?”

“Just a drive,” he confirmed.

She thought for a moment. But only a moment. Then she reached for his hand.

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret this,” she said under her breath.

Sean laughed and pulled her toward the door.