His Wedding Date (Destination Weddings #1) (2 page)

He glanced at another table, unwilling to meet Bree’s eyes. “She talked. A lot. There’s no telling what I was agreeing to when I grunted.”

She laughed. “Typical. Okay, are we talking future yet? The pretend us?”

“I don’t know. Jillian ran into my mom last spring so she knows I wasn’t seeing anyone at the time.”

“That’s cool. We’re taking it slowly, seeing where it goes.” She took a sip of her drink. “Since we work together, it would get really awkward if we had a big blow-up, so we want to make sure this is the real thing. That will make you sound responsible, grown up.”

Ash nodded. It sucked he had to pretend to be somebody else to prove he had any kind of value as a person. His mouth tightened and he reached for his beer.

“What’s wrong?” Bree asked.

“Nothing.” He sighed at the lie. She was doing him a huge favor so she deserved the truth. He shifted in his chair but it didn’t make him feel any more comfortable with the situation. Maybe at some point he could talk to Bree. Assuming she wanted to see him again after the wedding trip.

Chapter Two

The next day at work Ash’s head was ready to explode, trying to focus. Too many thoughts running through his head. Letting Bree keep the impression she was a phony date was such a bad idea. He’d probably shot down any chance at going out with her.

He couldn’t think of anything but Bree, though. Of kissing her, really kissing her hard, thoroughly, and all over. He’d have plenty of chances over the weekend, with any luck.

Ash lifted his stylus off his drawing tablet and looked at his monitor. His superheroine had curves way too similar to Bree’s. And the shape of her face, the wide forehead and narrow chin, just like hers. At least he’d given the character brown eyes and not Bree’s greenish-hazel, and sassy, spikey brown hair instead of long, flowing auburn locks. Maybe if he widened her jawline a bit…

“Hey.” Bree’s voice came from the doorway of his cubical.

Spinning in his chair, Ash tried to block his monitor with his shoulders, just in case she noticed the similarities, too. “Hey. What’s up?”

“I’m running down the street for sandwiches and wondered if you wanted me to pick up something for you.”

He had to look at the clock on his computer to see it was an hour past when he usually grabbed lunch. “Um, why don’t I come with you. I need to clear my head.”

“Great.” Her smile instantly cleared all thoughts from his brain.

Following her out of the office, he waited to talk until they were in the hallway. The last thing he wanted was to say something idiotic in front of their coworkers. Guaranteed he’d make an ass of himself at some point in front of Bree. He didn’t need an audience. “I need to think of a gift for Greg and Susie.”

Bree gazed at him with wide eyes. “Procrastinate much?”

“Only on things like this. I don’t know what to get them.”

“Where have they registered?”

He hadn’t even thought about that. Jillian handled choosing all of the things they’d registered for when they’d gotten married. “Where would I find that little bit of information?”

She shook her head. “In the invitation. You did get an invitation, right?”

“Of course. I’m a groomsman.”

“And, did you open it?”

Had he? Greg had texted him months before the invitations had been sent out. Somewhere about the time he got that little postcard-“Which one? I got one warning me I was going to be invited…”

“That would be a ‘save the date’ card. The actual invitation would have had a little slip of paper or a card mentioning where they’d registered.”

Had he even opened the invitation? He’d probably tossed it on his desk, knowing exactly what it said since he’d been texting with Greg all about it. He just shrugged at Bree.

She held out her hand. “Give me your phone.”

He pulled it out of his hip pocket and put it on her palm.

Bree rolled her eyes. “Unlock it, please.”

What the hell did she want his phone for? He tapped in his code and handed it back.

She tapped and swiped and scrolled, then began typing.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m texting Greg. ‘Where are you registered?’” She stared at the phone for a few moments as they walked, totally impressing him that she didn’t stumble. Then she burst out laughing.

Ash reached for the phone. “What?”

She read, “Who is this and what are you doing on Ash’s phone?” As she typed, she said, “Ash’s girlfriend, Bree. Nice to meet you. I’m helping him choose a wedding gift.”

She typed all that in half the time it took Ash to absorb the fact she’d just called herself his girlfriend. Before he could snag the phone away, she laughed again and typed.

“I’ll see you this weekend. I’m his plus one,” she said as her thumbs tapped the phone.

“What the fuck is a ‘plus one’? Give me that phone.” He grabbed it before she could move it away. He deleted what she’d been about to send to Greg, then typed,
Dude, she’s really hot. But that’s not important. What do you want for your wedding?

The bubble appeared on his screen showing Greg was typing.
Go to Crate & Barrel or Pottery Barn. Take Bree. She’ll figure it out for you.

Well, that worked out pretty cool. He had an excuse to see more of Bree. He thanked Greg and stuck his phone back in his pocket. “He says I have to take you with me to choose the gift.”

She tipped her head to one side. “Is he afraid to let you shop on your own?”

Ash grinned. “I think he’s more afraid of what I’d pick for a gift. Matching Xbox controllers and headsets, a surround speaker system. Or there are these really sweet ergonomic gaming chairs that recline and have adjustable arm rests—”

“I get the picture. When do you want to go shopping?”

~*~

Bree held up an odd-shaped, yellow-striped glass bowl to the light, enjoying the play of color through the glass. “You have to make a decision. Tonight. The store closes in half an hour.” Setting down the bowl, she turned to see Ash standing with his hands in his pockets as if he feared breaking something.

“What do you think I should get them?”

Planting her hands on her hips, she glared at him. “I’ve been suggesting things for the past hour.”

“And I said ‘fine’ to each of them.”

“You were supposed to be deciding which ones suited Greg and Susie most.” How clueless could he get? Or was he trying to piss her off for some reason? Maybe he just was too lazy to make a choice.

He looked so lost in the large department store. Totally out of his element. She should take pity on him and just pick something. “I suppose we need to make it look like something you’d have chosen. What about that ice bucket, the stemware and ale glasses?”

Ash nodded. “Yeah, they might believe I’d pick those.” Then he grinned. “Well, Mark knows better.”

“Great, let’s get these paid for and see if they gift wrap.”

When they reached her apartment complex, Ash pulled into a parking space. Bree unbuckled her seatbelt and asked, “Do you want to come up?”

He studied her for a few moments before answering. “Yeah, sure.”

Wow, that was encouraging. Maybe she had completely misunderstood his asking her to be his date. She had no intentions of seducing him-she wasn’t desperate to get laid. It had been a while, but not
that
long. Ash always made her laugh, though, so she didn’t want the evening to end just yet.

Once inside her apartment, she flipped on some lights and walked to the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. Can I get you something to eat or drink? I can do sandwiches or a salad pretty quickly.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

She muttered, “Which one?” as she pulled a bottle of light ale out of the fridge. She poured it into a glass and did the same with some chardonnay for herself. She kept bags of salad “fixings” on hand for quick dinners, so she quickly threw them in a bowl and tossed them with vinaigrette before serving some on plates. After making turkey, ham and provolone sandwiches, she carried it all into the living room.

Ash quickly reached for half a sandwich. “I wasn’t thinking. I should have taken you to dinner.”

“There wasn’t time beforehand, with traffic and all. This is fine for me. I don’t like to eat out all the time.”

He nodded and kept eating.

They were mostly quiet until the food was gone, and then things turned awkward. They could talk up a storm at work or when they went for drinks with the crowd, but Bree was suddenly unable to think of anything to say.

Ash got up and walked to the sliding glass door that looked out over Lake Merritt. She rarely closed the blinds because there were no buildings nearby that were tall enough to see into her apartment. Ash shoved his hands back in his pockets. “Gorgeous view.”

“Isn’t it? I love seeing the moonlight on the lake and all the city lights. It’s so magical.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Moonlight and city lights are preferred to sunshine on the beach?”

She held up her arm, her pale skin glowing in the lamplight. “They don’t make an SPF high enough for my vampire skin. Do you like the beach?”

He nodded. “I used to surf in high school and college.”

“You gave it up when you got a job?”

“Not really gave it up as never found time to go. I keep saying I’ll take a week off in the summer and head down to Malibu or Redondo Beach, but it always seems there’s a deadline looming and I put off vacation.”

She tipped her head to one side and studied him. He looked like a surfer dude who would drop everything at the news of heavy surf. “When was the last time you took a vacation?”

“Three years ago.”

“Basically on your first anniversary at BA Games.”

“Yeah, pretty much. But it was a good one. A hurricane off the coast of Mexico created some awesome waves all the way up to L.A.” His face lit up and his arm came up and moved like a crashing wave, then he wobbled like he was on a surfboard. “Huge, crashing hard. We stayed out of the water on the worst days, but when it got safer, we dove in.”

The change in him when he talked about surfing surprised her. He was such a happy guy all around, a wise ass even in meetings, but now he was animated and excited, just from the memory. “You can surf up here, too, you know.”

He shrugged. “Until recently, I was always out too late on Friday and Saturday nights to get up early enough to hit the beach.”

And he wasn’t the type to call in late to work.

“Speaking of which…” He took a step or two into the room.

“Can’t stay out late on a school night?” she teased.

“Something like that.” But he didn’t move toward the door.

Bree rose and picked up their glasses. Ash quickly dove to grab the plates. When Bree set the glasses in the sink, she turned and found herself trapped by Ash. He was so close, his warmth and his scent enveloped her. Butterflies stirred in her stomach as she breathed in the clean, masculine smell. Try as she might to not do so, she swayed a bit in his direction, wanting to feel his lips on hers.

Ash leaned in, too, then pulled back. He took a step closer and set the plates on the counter without breaking eye contact.

The butterflies multiplied as if she’d never been kissed. Her tongue swiped her lips just as Ash planted his hands on the counter on either side of her. She drew in a breath and narrowed the distance between them.

His touch was warm and gentle. Her eyes closed as she parted her lips to welcome his searching tongue. Her hands pressed against his back, pulling him closer. When her breasts rubbed against his shirt, she moaned.

He echoed the sound, and then his mouth was gone. Bree opened her eyes. Ash was still close, his eyes looking as heated as she felt.

“I should go.”

“Should you?” she asked.

“Yeah. Or neither one of us will make it to work tomorrow.”

Bree sighed and followed him to the door. The weekend couldn’t come soon enough.

Chapter Three

At the end of the week, Bree rode the elevator in her apartment building with Ash pulling her suitcase. She was so pleased she had gotten everything she needed into one large, wheeled bag, except for her dress, which was in a garment bag. They’d left work early because of a storm heading toward the lodge. They hoped to beat the weather up the mountain.

When Ash’s small hybrid car began the climb into the mountains, Bree leaned back in the passenger seat with her eyes clamped shut. She hated windy roads. She hated the drop-offs, especially ones where you could see there were no rocks or outcroppings to stop a rolling car. When you added in blind curves in failing light, and a dusting of falling snow, she needed a good stiff drink. Or a barf bag.

“How are you doing?” Ash reached across and squeezed her hand.

She refused to open her eyes. “I’ll be better when we get there. Although I might need another hour or two to stop shaking.”

“I’m sorry about the weather.”

“It’s not like you planned it,” she said. His voice, a rough-edged tenor with a hint of surfer to it, calmed her in a way even a drink couldn’t. It was like someone running his fingertips over the skin of her back, sending her tension scurrying. She needed him to keep talking. “What’s your ex’s name, again?”