Four Weddings and a Break Up (2 page)

“You’re a little pale.” Before Ginny could point out that she was always pale, Julie took out blush and quickly smoothed the brush over her cheeks. Their eyes met, and Ginny hated the look of pity she saw in her sister’s blue depths. She did not want to be pitied. Ever.

So she made her voice teasing. “Isn’t this breaking some rules of etiquette?”

“If Ms. Manners saw that ass, she would not object,” Julie said with a laugh. The traces of pity disappeared although Ginny suspected they still lay underneath the surface. After all, wasn’t this why Ginny had been included in the bachelorette party? Wasn’t it why her sister had helped her pick out an outfit? Wasn’t it why they were daring her to ask out Mr. Dangerous? Because they all thought she needed the push, that she was just a charity case.

Had she even fooled her sister tonight with her act? Apparently not. Ginny needed to step up her game. Big time. She needed to prove to them—and maybe even to herself—that she was something more than they all expected. And it wasn’t like she was ever going to see the guy again. What did she have to lose?

Julie winked. “In fact, I think she would probably tell you to lower your shirt and show off your girls.”

“My girls are perfectly fine where they are.”

“Vastly unfair.” A thin redhead next to Deb sniffed. “You’ve got the goods with no help, and you’re not showing them off. I paid for mine, and they still aren’t like yours. What I wouldn’t give for a double D.”

“How did you—”

“I know.”

“Okay, take out your ponytail and shake out your hair,” her sister instructed. “You’ve got long, glossy hair; you should be showing it off.”

“I like my ponytail,” she said with a grumble, but she did as Julie wanted. “Satisfied now?”

“Immensely.” Julie tapped the tray on Ginny’s lap.

“You want me to do it
now
?” Thinking about approaching Mr. Dangerous and actually doing it were two entirely different things. He could reject her. Ginny almost laughed. There was no
could
about it. It was a definite. He was going to reject her. It was just a matter of how fast he would say no.

“No time like the present.”

“But . . . but . . . but . . .”

“Unless you’re scared.” Her sister leveled her with a look. “A chicken.”

When he said no, she’d be the butt of the joke for the rest of the night. Possibly for a long time with how embarrassing stories were retold. Ginny could just see it. She’d be at a family gathering and someone would say, hey remember that time Ginny took that dare . . .

“I’m not doing this. It’s juvenile.”

Julie bawked like a chicken.

“You really think that’s going to work? Because it’s—”

“
Bawk
.
Bawk
.
Bawk
.” Now the others at the table joined in, too.

That was it. She was going to be humiliated either way, either by not doing the dare or by being rejected. But at least by taking the dare she didn’t have to see the looks of concern aimed her way. And she could be a little carefree in this moment. She could be someone else. Someone who went after what she wanted and got it.

She actually liked the sound of that.

“Fine.” Ginny stood, grabbing the tray and a beer. “But it’s not because you all bawked me into it. It’s to prove to everyone that I’m right and you’re wrong. Mr. Dangerous—”

“Ohhh, she gave him a nickname.”

“—is going to laugh in my face and—”

“You’d better hurry, Gin. Mr. Dangerous is headed out for some fresh air.”

Ginny turned and saw her sister was right. Mr. Dangerous was headed toward the back entrance, a cell phone to his ear. At least her humiliation would be private. Thank God for small favors.

But what if she wasn’t humiliated? What if she changed her attitude? Instead of thinking he was going to reject her, why not think he would take her number and even kiss her. Hell, she could also kiss him.

The thought stopped her.

She
could
kiss him.

She didn’t know his real name, and he didn’t know hers. They weren’t going to exchange stories. He’d never know she’d been shot, or that since that day, she’d been treated like the town hero. And that despite all the accolades heaped on her, she felt like the biggest fraud because she shouldn’t be a hero for being shot, especially with how it happened.

Mr. Dangerous didn’t know anything. He never would. Taking this dare wasn’t something she normally did, except tonight was different.

She was with her sister, whom Ginny always felt safe with. Julie would never do something to harm her. It was time to seize the day, live in the moment, be all she could be, and to just do it.

“And if you kiss him,” Julie added slyly, “I’ll cook you dinner for the next month.”

“Two months.” If she was going to take this dare, she was going to make it worth her while. “And your carrot cake. Also, Deb cannot aim her wedding bouquet at me next month.”

“Hey!” Deb protested.

“It’s a deal,” Julie cut in. “You’ve got to do three things: Give him your number, ask him out, and kiss him.”

“All in that order?”

“Well, maybe you should kiss him first. Break the ice.”

Ginny laughed. Break the ice indeed. She downed the last shot for some courage and good luck. “Fine, fine. I’m going.”

She started walking away, and her sister called out after her: “And, Ginny, don’t be afraid to shake your ass. Just a little.”

To show them that she wasn’t going to let them have the last word, Ginny shook her ass.

Just a little.

W
es Dalton ended
the conversation with his younger brother and pocketed his cell. Not exactly what he’d wanted to hear about Dad—that he’d gone for a walk and forgotten where he lived. Luckily, a neighbor had been on her way home and gave Dad a ride. Wes leaned against the brick wall and closed his eyes. The air was rich with the promise of rain.

In the morning, he’d be headed to Cape Hope, a small, historic Victorian beach town forty-five minutes south of Atlantic City. Cape Hope was a place he’d only visited every so often when he was a kid, after his parents divorced. His younger brother, Jake, had called last week and told him Dad’s Alzheimer’s was getting worse.

The phone call tonight only cemented Wes’ decision that going back was the right thing to do. Still, Wes’ life was in Las Vegas. His real estate business, Dalton and Associates, otherwise known as D&A, was headquartered there with satellite offices in L.A., Dallas, Chicago, and NYC.

Right now, a multi-million dollar deal was on the table to bring in a top-notch hotel chain to Atlantic City. Today he’d met with Ernie Schaeffer, the CEO of Kismet Hotels, to look over the site again. Ernie had flown back without giving any indication whether or not he wanted to bring Kismet Hotels to the East Coast. Since Ernie was still sitting on his ass, trying to make up his mind on whether to sign or not, Wes had decided to spend the summer in Cape Hope and help out his brothers.

His relationship with his father wasn’t the best, and he didn’t know his brothers all that well, but Wes’ mother had passed on a couple years ago, and this was all the family he had left. If he didn’t try to make a connection with his brothers and his father, he’d have no one. He didn’t want that to happen. Plus, it wasn’t like his move was permanent. It was a long, overdue vacation. He’d be back to his old life in no time. It would be like he had never left. He was sure of it.

Wes sighed. He was thinking too much, and he didn’t want to think about this. He just wanted to feel something other than this uncertainty. It wasn’t like him to be unsure. Not as confident. Worried. He just wanted to regain some ground, to shrug off this sudden melancholy, and to live in the moment. He didn’t want to think about tomorrow or anything else.

The door creaked open. A young, dark-haired woman came out into the darkness. She held a tray with a beer on top of it. It wasn’t until she stepped into the dim light that he could make out her features.

She had the type of curves that separated the women from the girls.

Generous breasts that made his mouth water and lush hips he could hold onto. Shapely legs under a flared-out blue skirt and soft arms. An oval face with a pouty, pink mouth that begged to be kissed, and deep brown eyes framed by sooty lashes. Glossy, rich brown hair tumbled over her shoulders, the ends dancing along the top of her breasts in a v-neck, white cotton t-shirt.

She was beautiful, sexy, and he was interested. Very interested.

Even though his whole body tightened in anticipation, he kept his stance and tone relaxed. “That for me?”

“The beer?” She glanced down at the tray and let out a nervous laugh that did something to his insides.

He found himself stepping closer, trying to understand this sudden need drumming in his veins. He’d never felt this pull before. There was
something
about her that made him want to know more—like how she smelled, how she tasted, and how she would look naked in his arms. Well, he knew the answer to that last one. She would look damn good naked in his arms.

“Yeah. It’s for—” Words died on her lips as she glanced up at him, her eyes widening as she realized he was inches away, their bodies facing each other as if they were about to dance. None of that slow, waltzing stuff but a dirty bump and grind where she’d rub herself against him.

He’d been wrong. He thought her eyes were brown. Brown was too commonplace. Rich, like melted dark chocolate. She gave “brown-eyed girl” a whole new meaning.

As their gazes held and lingered, those brown eyes darkened with desire. A faint blush stole her cheeks, and she licked her pouty lips. The air grew thick with want, the tension crackling. Then she ducked her head, her blush deepening.

Shyness,
he thought. He found himself wanting to reassure her. But, perhaps it wasn’t just a matter of her being shy. Maybe she wasn’t confident of vocalizing what she wanted. If his instincts were right—and they usually were—he could lead the way and make her more comfortable.

“Looks like there’s going to be a storm,” she said and pointed to the dark clouds gathering overhead, blotting out stars and the full moon.

He glanced at her, curious. There had been something in her tone almost wistful and surprised. As if she hadn’t expected him to talk to her.

True, there was something he’d much rather be doing right now than talking. But he wasn’t a caveman. He actually liked to get to know a woman before anything happened. Not like there was going to be anything happening with her tonight. Except the possibility was there and he’d be a fool not to try, especially when the attraction was as palpable as the unspent electricity hovering in the air, like lightning readying to strike. He sensed that she was just that into him.

“It’s summer,” he said. “There’s always a storm.”

“Some people don’t like them. The boom of thunder, the streaks of lightning, the gusts of wind. Sometimes I like to watch them from my balcony.”

She intrigued him. He stepped closer. “You’re not afraid of being struck?”

“I’ve lived through worse.” She shrugged and adjusted the tray. “Maybe I could get a cool superpower or something.”

Maybe if her tone had been different he would have laughed. It was in his nature to find humor in most situations. But her voice was soft, a caress upon his skin, and he didn’t want to break the moment by doing the wrong thing. More than that what she had said spoke to him. Hadn’t he been wishing moments earlier to just feel something? To forget about the upheaval of his life? It wasn’t like Wes to shirk his responsibilities, but there were moments he wished he didn’t have so many of them. That he really could be the carefree person he pretended to be.

“Like the ability to fly?” Right now, it felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on him. He just wanted to forget everything, even if it was only for one night. She was providing the necessary distraction.

“Invisibility.”

He tilted his head, studying her. “Invisibility, huh?”

“I could get away with a lot of things if people didn’t see me.”

He got that; however, it almost seemed criminal that she wouldn’t want to be seen. Wes wasn’t a fanciful man, but there something almost magnetic about her—that he was the proverbial moth drawing to her flame, trying to figure out what made her so different from any other woman he knew. He didn’t want to deal with any heavy stuff right now, and from the looks of it, neither did she. So he decided to keep it light and easy.

“Maybe you already have that superpower. I didn’t see you until now. I would have noticed you if I’d seen you in the bar.”

“I was sitting at a corner table. I certainly saw you.” She smiled shyly at him, then glanced down at the tray and seemed to realize she still had a beer on it. “You want this?”

“Yeah. I want.” Any thoughts of his father, his brothers, and the whole upheaval of his life were pushed to the back of his mind as a small gust of wind brought her light, clean perfume over to him. A hint of lemons; she’d be like a glass of lemonade on a hot summer day.

She handed him the bottle. Not taking his eyes off hers, he took a long pull, thankful of the cold liquid that quenched his thirst. But not his hunger. It only fed his desire and pushed him to be reckless, to enjoy whatever was about to happen. And, hopefully, something would.

Wes held the beer out to her. “You want some?”

“S-sure.” She seemed a bit nonplussed. She took a quick sip, and some of the beer spilled over her lip, dribbling down her chin, followed the column of her neck, and down into her cleavage. Well, damn. That did it.

He couldn’t resist the temptation any longer.

Taking the tray and beer from her hands, Wes placed both on the graveled pavement. He took a step toward her, then another until he backed her up against the wall. Her eyes were darker, almost black, and her breasts were rising and falling rapidly.

“You want?” His tone was harsh and full of need; a rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. A storm was coming, and he was powerless to stop it. But he could control this.

A bedroom whisper from her: “I want.”