Blushing Pink (37 page)

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Authors: Jill Winters

BOOK: Blushing Pink
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"What are you talking about?" she asked, confused. "It is over. I have no idea why Kenneth came by this morning." To be honest, she was starting to get annoyed.
Brian
was the one with all the baggage, not her!

"I just don't get why you're letting him think there's something there if there isn't."

"Well, I can't control what he
thinks.
It's not like I encourage him—"

"You introduced him as your date last night."

"Oh, don't even bring up last night," Reese said. "You were letting Veronica think whatever she wanted."

He scowled and said, "I just don't know if you're being honest about you and him. Christ, Reese, the guy gave you his mother's jewelry."

"Look, Brian, I'm not gonna get into a whole relationship talk with him when I'm on my way out the door. Anyway, he's my date for the wedding—I can't just drop him cold. I seem to recall that you're waiting till after the wedding to tell Veronica for the same reason."

"Whatever," he muttered angrily, and headed toward the door.

"Oh, forget it," she said, feeling defeated, deflated, and totally drained.

"What?" Brian asked, turning back around.

Reese shook her head and avoided his eyes. "You are so transparent, Brian. God, I've been so stupid. You don't really want to end things with Veronica, and now you're looking for an excuse so you don't have to. It is so fucking obvious!" Whenever she resorted to swearing, she knew she'd reached emotional time-bomb status. So
too fucking bad.

"How can you say that after last night?"

"Brian, face it, you're just using Kenneth as an excuse. Just go—go stay in your safe, comfortable little world with Veronica, who you've known
forever."
Close to crying now, she somehow kept her tears from falling. "I never should've let this happen."

"Now you're sorry it happened?" he said, clenching his cheek. Wordlessly he nodded and opened the door. He looked over his shoulder and said, "Then forget it happened. Forget the whole damn thing."

And then
he
was gone, too.

 

 

 

Chapter 28

 

The next several hours were a blur. The pre-wedding preparations had gone smoothly, although a little frantically, and the ceremony had gone off without a hitch. Reese had avoided Brian's penetrating stare throughout, as hard as it was, because it was all just too painful. Thinking about how she'd fallen into bed with him, how she'd given him her body and heart so easily... well, she could either force the thoughts aside or go crazy. Or do a little of both.

As planned, she had full-scale van duty, from the church to the hotel. And now, as she pulled into the parking lot of the Goldwood Villa, she could not wait to drop off her last group—the Gardening Society, who were, quite predictably, bombed.

Immediately after the ceremony, Gardening Society president Mary Paddington had told Reese that they were going on a bar crawl, and to pick them up in an hour "somewhere between Main and Drury." An hour and a half later, Reese had finally tracked them down at the Glory Pub, and they'd barreled into the van like a bunch of hyper ten-year-olds.

Now, as Reese slid the van into an empty space, Mary Paddington yelled, "Heeey—here we are, everybody!" Then she stuck her hand inside her shirt and under her armpit—for about the tenth time that ride—and started flapping. She looked absolutely crestfallen when trumpet noises failed to sound. "Heeey," she cried, "it's not working now!"

Kenneth was sitting in the passenger seat, looking appropriately appalled.

Reese just rolled her eyes and said, "Okay, we're here. C'mon, everybody out." Once the ladies were on their way to the banquet room, Reese left Kenneth waiting while she stopped in the ladies' room to check her reflection.
Hmm
... Not bad, but nothing to write home about. Angela had done her hair that morning, and somehow managed to make it all smooth and shiny and only subtly wavy. Also, the fish diet had paid off, because Reese had lost the four pounds she needed to get into her bridesmaid dress without fainting. Good enough for her. Her breasts were still borderline oozing out of the neckline, but it didn't look quite as Incredible-Hulk-bursting-out-of-his-clothes as it had two weeks ago.

As she looked in the mirror, she had a sudden acute moment of stinging self-awareness. God, she hated those. But there it was. An overwhelming feeling of solitude. Uncertainty. Isolation. Even though her whole family was out in that reception hall—not to mention most of Goldwood—in that moment, Reese felt wholly and inexplicably
alone.

A toilet flushed loudly behind her, breaking the spell, and Reese turned and left.

The banquet room was jumping with people and food and music and dancing and friends—and yes, of course, total strangers. Ally and Ben were in the center of the dance floor, Ben looking great in his tux, and Ally looking incredible in her unusual wedding dress that matched the streaks in her hair, and white go-go boots that were visible only when she ruffled her skirt as she danced. Reese felt happy for her, but it was an aching kind of happiness.

"Do you wanna get something to eat?" she asked Kenneth, motioning to the buffet table. She probably shouldn't, but she might as well eat while she had the chance—as soon as she spotted Brian twirling Veronica on the dance floor, she knew she'd be violently ill.

"Yes, that sounds good. By the way, how is Professor Kimble's book coming along? Any concerns on your part? Uh... I'm here to help. You know, uh, as your significant other."

She sighed, and faced the hors d'oeuvres instead of him. Maybe they would need to have that relationship talk sooner than she thought.

"Hi, Reese."

She turned and saw Brian standing next to her, reaching for a glass of red wine. "Oh, hi," she said quickly, swallowing hard and averting her eyes. She couldn't look at him without remembering his hands on her, their bodies naked and sweaty and pounding. She couldn't forget the strength of his arms, the soft raspiness of his voice when he first woke, the taste of his mouth after he slept. Or when he had told her it would be the two of them—just the two of them. No, she definitely could not look at him right now.

"Hi... Kenneth, right?" he said, holding out his hand to Kenneth, who stood there like a stone before extending his own hand. They shared a brief, perfunctory shake, while Reese kept her head angled more toward the food than Brian. He said, "Reese, would you mind dancing with me? My date seems to have disappeared for a few minutes."

She whipped her head forward, now looking at him speculatively—warily. He glanced over at Kenneth. "You don't mind, do you?" Then he took Reese's hand before she had a chance to answer.

Kenneth spoke abruptly. "No, that's fine. Reese, I'll hold your bag."

Brian tugged gently on her hand and kept it firmly in his own. She didn't seem to have much choice unless she wanted to make a scene. "All right," she said finally, handing Kenneth her evening bag and allowing Brian to lead her to the dance floor.

What had Brian meant that Veronica had "disappeared"? Was it possible that he had told her about Reese? Was that what he was trying to say? Her heart kicked up—maybe things would work out after all.

Once they were out on the floor, Brian pulled Reese into his arms just as a slow ballad began. She held on to him, not nearly as tightly as she could or wanted to, but really, she had to maintain
some
pride. Wordlessly, he leaned in close, and she could have sworn he smelled her hair. "So where's your girlfriend?" she asked, breaking the silence.

Hey, she never said she wasn't trying to bait him as well as break the silence. Anyway, if she baited him, he might just give her some good news.

"I don't have a girlfriend," he said softly. "But if you mean Veronica, she's in the bathroom."

Reese stiffened in his arms at the mention of Veronica. She started to pull away, but Brian locked his hands more firmly on her waist. "Let me go," she said, annoyed.

"No, don't," Brian urged.

Out of the corner of Reese's eye, she saw flaxen-hair-and-lithe-wonder approaching.
Just fucking great.
"Oh, what's the point, Brian?" she said waspishly, motioning to Veronica with her eyes. "Obviously nothing's changed." She disentangled herself from his arms, just as Veronica said, "Hi, there. Rina, right?"

"Reese," she replied uncomfortably. Of course Miss Perfect looked slim and graceful in her cream-colored sheath, and her delicate little shoulders made Reese look like an outside linebacker. "Well... I've got to get back to my date," Reese said feebly. "Excuse me."

Just then Brian's cell phone rang inside his jacket, startling all of them. In spite of Veronica's audible sigh of annoyance, he answered. "I can't believe you left that on," Veronica said, irritated.

He held up his hand to her, squinting a little, which made sense when he said, "Scott? I can't hear what you're saying...."

"Brian, can't this
wait?"
Veronica whined, in spite of his gesture asking her to be quiet for a moment. "This is so typical. Just when I come over for a dance—"

"Damn it!" Brian said, shutting his phone.

"Brian, what is it?" Reese asked, coming a little closer. The only reason she'd stayed on the fringe was because his face had become creased in tension, and she'd wanted to make sure things were okay. Now it wasn't looking like they were.

He shook his head, not really looking at her, and said, "It's Danny... Scott was trying to tell me something, and my phone died. Damn!" he said again.

Veronica insisted with steely calm, "Brian, I'm sure it can wait. Can't we just enjoy the party for a while?"

Shaking his head, he said, "I'm sorry... I gotta go page him and see what's going on... something's not right...."

"Of course. Everything before me; this is so predictable."

Reese followed Brian out of the banquet room as he went, presumably, in search of a phone. "Brian?" she called as he neared the door. "Brian, wait... you can use the phone in my hotel room... talk as long as you want." She would've offered him her cell, but it was up in her room, too.

Stoically he said, "All right, thanks."

"Okay, I just need to get the room key from Kenneth—he's holding my purse."

The only problem was that when Reese looked for Kenneth, she couldn't find him anywhere. Maybe if she combed the entire room or stalked the men's room, she'd find him, but she didn't want to leave Brian waiting that long. "Shoot, I don't know where he went. Let's just stop at the front desk to get an extra key."

After they got the key, they rode the elevator to the eighth floor in borderline-tense silence. Reese led the way down the hall to room 816, even though they both knew full well that Brian was
very
acquainted with her accommodations.

Reese swiped the card key and opened the door, saying, "Okay, the phone's right there—" before her jaw dropped.

What the hell?

Kenneth was hunkered down on the floor, frantically rifling through her bag!

"What the hell are you doing?" she yelled.

"Jesus Christ! What are you doing in her room?" Brian said angrily, and charged toward him.

Kenneth crumbled like the proverbial deck of cards at that point, turning paler than usual and holding up his hands, begging, "Please, don't hit me, don't hit me!"

"Tell me what the fuck you're doing going through her room!" Brian ordered.

His protectiveness would have been heartwarming if there weren't more pressing matters. "Wait, both of you!" Reese said, exasperated. "Brian, use the phone; you don't have time to be wasting with this."

"But—"

"I'll
deal with Kenneth," she finished with very obvious determination, and turned to the slimy lizard in question. She jerked her finger and said, "Outside—
now."
Her head was swimming as Kenneth slunk toward the door. But on the other hand, how tough could the confrontation be? She could swear the boy was quivering.

* * *

"Kenneth, what the hell is going on?" Reese demanded the minute they were in the hall. "Just spill it. No throat clearing, no baloney, just tell me.
Now."

He sucked in a deep breath, obviously dying to feign phlegm, but didn't dare. Fiddling with his suit pockets, he said, "All right, I'll tell you the truth. Quite frankly, well... I have only been dating you to get information about Professor Kimble's book."

Reese's mouth dropped open. She knew that he
lived
to talk about their graduate work, but she'd never thought he was blatantly using her. She waited for a "but"—like, "but somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you." It never came. Kenneth didn't qualify what he'd said in the least. "I hated it," he continued. "Having to pretend I actually had romantic feelings for you." He shivered. "It was awful. Oh, no offense."

She had an irate look on her face that said,
You're goin' down.
"No, I just meant that you're not my type," he clarified quickly. "You see, the truth is, I am already deeply involved with someone else. Someone who, uh, truly 'strikes my fancy,' if you will." He slipped in a little throat clearing here, but Reese let it slide. "In fact," Kenneth went on, "I did all of this for her."

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