May the Best Man Win (10 page)

“Okay, I know that there are guys capable of making women climax more than once at a shot. But, Lena”—she met her friend's eyes—“it was more than just your run-of-the-mill orgasm. It was a really, really good one, and then another, and then”—when she had well and truly been begging—“another.
Who can do that?
”

Lena shook her head. “No. There's always someone else. At least until you meet
the one
. But from the way you talk about Jase—and I really wish I'd known before the wedding how you felt about him—he's not.”

Emily agreed. “Definitely not. Which is why thinking about him like this is making me all the more angry.” Just like he'd known it would.

God, she hated it when he was right.

Lena was waving her hands in front of herself in that way she did when she wasn't interested in hearing something that was probably the truth.

“No. We'll give this another week or so, and then you'll take matters into your own hands. Buy an incredibly complicated vibrator with all the bells and whistles and set yourself up with
Magic Mike XXL
or something. You won't be thinking of Jase Foster when it's done. You'll be cured.”

Emily wanted to believe, but the fact that she'd gotten chills at the mention of Jase's name—and not the prospect of Channing Tatum doing those incredibly erotic dance moves—didn't bode well.

* * *

Jase walked up to the freshly shoveled stoop and, kicking as much snow from his boots as he could, let himself in the front door.

“Hey, Dad,” he said with a nod, unbuttoning his coat as a wave of warmth enveloped him.

“Jase.” His father grinned, straightening from where he'd been leaning over a sea of tiny screws, nuts, and bolts spread across the tabletop. He rolled his shoulders, making Jase wonder just how long he'd been sorting all that crap, and strode over for the bear hug that always put a smile on Jase's face. “I didn't know you were coming by.”

“Few errands in this neck of the woods and thought I'd take my old man out for some grub. You eat yet?”

Joe shot him a sideways look. “Worried I've started hitting the senior specials at four?”

Jase knew he hadn't. If there was one thing he could count on in this life, it was the sanctity of his father's routine. From as far back as Jase could remember, the man had worked Monday through Friday, leaving the house at 8:15 a.m. so while Jase had still lived there they could have breakfast together. He was back in the door by 6:05 p.m., and though dinner occasionally ran late around Jase's practices or games, it never, ever happened before 6:30 p.m. Just one of those things. Like Joe bowling on Wednesday nights, poker on Fridays, and Jase coming out for a few hours in the afternoon and staying through dinner every Sunday.

It was nice. Comforting, like the smell of banana bread right out of the oven.

And Jase liked knowing that whatever kind of shit storm was brewing in his life, home would be as constant as ever.

They decided on the brew pub they'd been going to for years and folded themselves into Jase's SUV. But before Jase had even gotten his seat belt on, Joe asked, “So what's got you so spun up that you're making up excuses to come all the way out to see your pops in the middle of the week?”

Jase shot his dad a look, but the old man had his number. Better even than he had his own, because it wasn't until he heard his dad say the words that he realized they were true. Yeah, he liked to get his running shoes at the place where he'd been buying them since he was six, but he lived in Chicago. And while there were probably a hundred stores he could have chosen that weren't an hour away, he'd gone to the one in Oak Park because he'd wanted to talk to his dad.

“Brace yourself. It's about girls.”

“Hell, didn't Ray teach you about that stuff when you were fourteen?”

He had. And then Bear and Mick too. It had been an awkward evening, to say the least. Memorable and informative beyond anything Jase had been ready for.

Letting out a low chuckle at the memory, he joked, “Yeah, well. Maybe I need to brush up.”

His dad huffed out a laugh, muttering something about being fairly certain that if one of them needed a brushup, it wasn't Jase.

A few blocks from the house, he just said it. “I slept with Eddie's girl.”

His dad's eyes stayed trained on the road ahead as if he were the one behind the wheel, a small smile at the corner of his lips. “Eddie has a girl?”

Had he really driven all the way out to Oak Park for this?

“Emily,” he clarified.

“Ahh, yeah. I remember you mentioning her a few months back. What did you say, she gets to you ‘like nails down a blackboard'?”

Jase blew out a breath. “I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't want it to happen.”

“Why not? You had a thing for her, if I'm remembering correctly. Before she was Eddie's girl. Isn't that right? You were thinking about making her yours?”

Jase cranked around to check out his dad, who was unwrapping a stick of chewing gum. He offered it with a guileless look and, seeing Jase's confusion, shrugged. “You were pretty obvious about it.”

Maybe to his dad. And he was fairly sure Emily had a sense of it—for a while, anyway. But not anyone else. Not Eddie, or he never would have called dibs.

'Course, way back when, Jase wouldn't have thought that Eddie would do half the shit he ended up doing. The car, the booze, the drugs.

“So you and Emily? I'm guessing the fact that you're referring to her as ‘Eddie's girl' and sleeping with her versus dating her means you won't be bringing her around for dinner anytime soon.”

Jase let out a short laugh, thinking about Emily's assurance that what they were doing meant nothing. And the way hearing that had actually made him feel better.

And yet, some part of him that he really didn't want to deal with was thinking,
Yeah, my dad would like her a lot
. Especially that laugh of hers—the one she gave so freely to everyone except him.

“No, not that kind of thing.”

Joe folded a rectangle of gum into his mouth and nodded.

“So why are you telling me about her? Again.”

It made sense that he'd ask. After all, it wasn't as though Jase brought home the tales of his every conquest and hookup. In fact, he rarely talked about the women he dated. Sure, his dad knew about them because of the guys. Once every month or so, they'd all get together and his dad would demand updates on his boy. Jase would joke about the fact that Joe saw him every week, and the old man would counter that he wanted all the dirt Jase never ponied up. Dirt Brody, Sean, Max, and especially Molly loved to dish.

So his dad knew he wasn't a monk and never would have expected him to be.

But this, him coming out to talk about Emily… Yeah, it had to mean something. Though he had no idea what. And maybe that was just it.

“I don't know what I'm doing with her. I don't know why I just couldn't stop.”

They pulled up to a stop sign and Joe shifted in his seat, crossing his arms over that big chest of his. “You feeling guilty? Like maybe you took something you shouldn't have?”

“What, because she's Eddie's girl? No. It's been, what…eight, nine years since things ended with them? I haven't even seen the guy in three.” And when he had, the kid he'd loved like a brother had been a shadow in the bloodshot eyes Jase barely recognized. The eyes that said that last stint in rehab hadn't done the trick. Jase had talked to Eddie's parents, but Eddie didn't want help.

“I was thinking it might be more about having sex with a woman you don't like. Wondering if maybe that's what was getting to you. Your conscience.”

Jase was about a hairsbreadth from saying hell no, when something inside him yanked that knee-jerk response back. Made him sit on it a second longer and really ask himself what he thought.

They drove in silence another block before he looked over at his dad and told him the truth. “She makes me furious. And I can't get along with her to save my life. And every single thing out of her mouth grates over my nerves like nothing else. But aside from all that, she's actually a really good girl. Cares about her friends. Cares about everyone.” Except him, probably. “She's smart. Funny.”

Gorgeous.

“If I'm really being honest with myself, yeah, I like her a lot. Just not in a way where—”

“Where you can do anything but take her to bed.”

Jase gave in to a weighted sigh. “Pretty much.”

“And you feel okay about that?”

The answer was obvious. If he did, he wouldn't have made the hour-plus drive to get his dad to help him figure out what he already knew.

Yeah, it definitely couldn't happen again.

January

The New Year came and went, and Jase's resolution to get his head out of Emily Klein's panties was a complete bust. Not good, since he was about to see her for the first time since she'd shooed him out of her apartment approximately twelve and a half minutes after they'd collapsed on the floor beside her bed.

Sally and Romeo's wedding had been rescheduled and pared down even more. The service was taking place at five that evening with a priest they hadn't met who'd come to take over while the man who'd baptized Sally recovered from surgery. And from there they were going to some bistro they'd managed to rent out for the reception. The guest list had gone from the initial seven hundred and fifty of their closest friends and family down to three hundred and now down to fifty-seven. But it didn't matter. There was bound to be at least one available beauty on hand that evening to keep him from any more wayward thoughts about Emily.

Yeah, all he needed was a new pretty face, and he'd be done thinking about the curve of Emily's leg in his hand. The breathy sounds she'd made when he was inside her. The way she'd gasped his name when he made her come. How soft and wet and tight—

Jase groaned, bracing a hand against his fridge door.

Enough.

A message popped up on his phone, and Jase saw the guys were out front waiting for him. The weather had mellowed back to Chicago's more typical winter, with the temps hovering just above freezing. So they'd lost a good portion of the snowfall, and the roads were still clear.

No more monkey wrenches courtesy of Mother Nature. At least not tonight.

Jase locked up, being sure to engage both dead bolts, and then took the elevator down to street level, where the “security” door was propped open with a broken piece of concrete and had a sheet of paper taped to it regarding the party happening on seven. Outside, Brody was double-parked. With Max in the front, Jase hopped into the too-small rear and clapped both men on the shoulder. “Sure hope I don't get carsick back here,” he warned, making a last-ditch effort to score shotgun.

Brody shrugged. “If you hurl, you'll be the one covered in it for the wedding. Max and I are just guests tonight. So maybe crack a window, because I'm not letting you drive the Bentley and Max is packing under his suit.”

Jase shot a skeptical look his buddy's way, but all he got was the guy's blank cop stare. “Don't even think about it.”

It had been worth a shot.

“So you guys know who's going to be there tonight?”

Brody pulled into traffic and kept his eyes on the road. “Sally's got three single bridesmaids. But one of them is Emily, and then there's Peg, who's pretty and looks like she might have a bit of a wild streak if you get her out of her mother's line of sight.”

Max was shaking his head. “Don't go there. Peg's cute, but she's got some growing up to do. Don't think you really want to be a part of that.”

Brody's mouth pulled down as he tipped his head from side to side, seeming to consider. “Probably right. Which leaves us with Leslie who was at the Skolnics' wedding, so you already know her. Also Romeo's got a slew of hot cousins. Just keep an eye out for their brothers. Tight-knit family, you know.”

Jase listened as Brody and Max speculated on which women they'd met from the engagement party would be making the short list for this third go at the wedding. They all had their merits, he was sure, but for whatever reason, with each name they brought up, Jase mentally scratched her from his rapidly dwindling list of potential distractions.

Too quiet.

Too tiny.

Too serious.

Too hard.

Too much like Emily or, damn it, not enough.

And great, now he was thinking about her again. The soft curve of her mouth when she smiled at anyone other than him. The way her hair spilled past her shoulders, just begging him to reach out and play with one of those loose spirals. What it did to him when she let him look into her deep brown eyes—

He was so screwed.

She'd gotten to him, all right. Because that unapproved mental field trip hadn't even been about the naughty, good-times bedroom stuff. Okay, the eyes maybe. Because the more he thought about it, the more he remembered that deep, soft eye contact had been pretty heart slamming when he'd been pushing inside her—which made him feel only marginally better, but he'd take what he could get.

If he didn't get it together, and fast, she'd know exactly what kind of messed-up bullshit was going on in his head. She'd be able to see it in his eyes. Hell, maybe she'd even be able to smell it on him. And that was the dead-last thing he needed, because they'd already agreed what had happened between them would be a one-time thing. And despite the way she'd gotten under his skin, he didn't want any more than that.

The church parking lot was empty compared to what it had looked like two weeks ago. He walked across the asphalt, his eyes scanning the section at the far end where he'd found Emily scrambling to get to the church. The girl had been determined, for all the good it did her.

A hand slapped him on the back. “Dude, get in there.”

Yeah, no sense lingering outside in the hopes of putting off the next inevitable interaction with Emily.

Inside the church, Jase found Romeo with a handful of relatives and the other two groomsmen. He greeted his friend with a hug and then rolled through the lineup of Romeo's relatives, doing his best to keep everyone's names straight while the bulk of his brain power was alternately reliving being with Emily and trying to put her out of his mind.

Finally, it was go time. Jase bumped knuckles with Romeo, who headed to the front of the church with his best man, and Jase moved to the back to line up with Emily.

But she wasn't waiting where she was supposed to be, and a slice of concern skewered through him. Had she not been able to make it? He was sure someone would have told him if that was the case. Hell, after what they'd done, he couldn't believe she wouldn't have called him herself.

What if she'd had another accident? What if this one had been more serious? Something in his gut twisted hard. What if she was hurt somewhere, and they were all lined up like a bunch of jackasses when they should have been out looking for—

She was there. Stepping out of the bride's chamber, holding hands with Sally while she whispered a few words. Words of encouragement maybe, reassurance, he thought, watching as Sally's anxious face seemed to soften, her eyes filling with hope and joy as they found the doors she was about to walk through.

Sally looked every bit the beautiful bride, and Jase realized that was in no small part because of the woman standing beside her.

For one insane moment, he was filled with a sense of pride.

Intense pride. But then Emily's eyes came up and met his. Cool and distant. Exactly what he'd hoped he would get from her. Precisely the reminder he needed that she wasn't his to be proud of. She wasn't his for anything beyond the few yards down this aisle, and even that was limited to keeping her from stumbling.

Really, it was perfect. Because despite this mess happening in his head, he didn't want anything more than that. He knew better.

She walked closer, the skirt he'd had bunched up between them two weeks ago swaying in wrinkle-free perfection. Each step bringing her that much closer to him. To the moment when she would tuck her hand around the crook of his arm.

And now he needed to stop thinking about the way her fingers had felt clutching at him two weeks ago, and the punch to his gut when he'd looked up to where he'd pinned her hands above her head and realized their fingers had woven together. He looked at Emily, a question pushing at his chest. She met his stare, unfazed. A pleasant, plastic smile on her lips. Just the way she was supposed to be. Just the way they'd agreed.

* * *

Emily was never going to get through this. Not without giving away how screwed up her thoughts had become.

As if it wasn't bad enough that the man was in her head every time she closed her eyes. Every time she closed her front door for that matter, and now…having him here in the church? She'd about tapped out the reserve of resistance keeping her gaze from raking over every inch of Jase's hard-muscled body. Denying the suddenly desperate need to wet her lips and lean into his space and draw a deep breath of that subtle cologne she couldn't quite get enough of.

Yeah, she was about to blow it big time by eyeing every semi-dark alcove and closed door within the sacred space like they were rife with sexual promise.

Lightning was so going to strike her down.

Which would be totally fine if it meant keeping the fact that Jase had been absolutely correct in his statement that he was going to ruin her from coming to light.

He'd gloat.

And while that wasn't totally unsexy in and of itself, she really didn't need the guy taunting her with more of what she couldn't have. And based on the hard scowl he was giving her, any secret hopes she might have had about the two of them turning just once into just
twice
were dowsed completely.

Just be cool.

The doors opened and the music changed.

“Em?” Jase murmured, offering her his arm.

She slipped her fingers around his elbow, and her breath caught at the low jolt coursing through her hand and the quiet stir in her belly.

Jase's eyes were locked with hers, the same kind of inconvenient shock she was experiencing from that single point of contact morphing into a look that was charged, dark, and intense.

* * *

Jase should have been stripped of his groomsman stripes.

The wedding was the longest he'd ever experienced. Whether the stand-in priest was just trying to give these kooky kids their money's worth or whether Jase was imagining the man's words dragging on and on, he didn't know. What he did know was that the ceremony itself had been a torture unique in his life. And through every minute of it, he'd tried—really, really tried—to focus on the couple he was standing up for. He tried to pay attention to the passages they'd chosen to share that day. And above all, he tried not to look at Emily.

On all counts, he failed.

She was gorgeous.

Fine, what else was new? Well, that look in her eyes when they'd touched and the room had practically caught fire around them. Yeah, that was pretty new.

And once he'd seen it, the hot need that matched his own, he'd been ready to pull her straight out of the church and back to… Well, shit. Brody's car.

Unfortunately that's when they'd gotten the hissed “Emily and Jase, go!” along with the firm shove propelling them toward the doors and down the aisle…barely a beat out of step.

But the whole way, they'd been casting sidelong looks at each other. And at one point, Emily had needed to duck her head when her cheeks turned a particularly satisfying shade of scarlet.

Oh yeah,
just once
was off the table.

He was having her again. As soon as this wedding was through.

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Romeo Santos retreated from the church amid well wishes and congratulations from those able to attend. They'd been quickly ushered away in their black Rolls Royce limo, gleaming beneath the unavoidable salt and sludge splatter of a Chicago winter.

Emily's heart was filled to overflowing with happiness for Sally and Romeo, but still that wasn't foremost in her mind. It was the escalating sense of anticipation causing the flutter in her belly she couldn't ignore. The nervous tension building within her.

Because of Jase.

Because of the way he'd been looking at her and the near-electric charge she'd experienced wrapping her hand around his arm.

Because of that last quiet word—“After”—spoken low enough that it had only been for her as they went to their opposite sides of the church.

Well, it was
after
, and now she could feel Jase's eyes on her. She knew he was close.

Knew he was there the second before he made contact, settling his palm at the curve of her waist and gently but firmly guiding her back from the press of family and friends clogging the hall leading out of the church.

She turned to him, thinking he would drop his head to her ear and whisper something about when they would meet. But all she got was a fleeting glimpse of the heat in his eyes as he positioned her in front him, keeping one wide hand around her waist, and the hot press of his body at her back.

He was leading her back into the church. Reaching past her to open the door to the bride's chamber and then ushering her inside.

“Jase, we'll have to be quick,” she whispered in a rush. Whatever plans he wanted to make—Her hotel room or his? What time? How best not to get caught, because this was one dirty secret she wasn't ready to share—that's all they'd have time for. They were a part of the wedding party, and people would be waiting for them.

But instead of Jase asking her anything, instead of looking over her face like he wanted to kiss her but letting out one of those frustrated growling sounds he made and then taking a step away, he answered with a gruff “Okay.”

And then the hand that had been at her waist slid forward, spanning wide and low across her belly. His mouth opened over the curve of her neck, sending her senses spiraling, and he pulled her back into the startling heat and hard-muscled expanse of his body.

“Jase!”

His teeth scraped over the sensitive stretch of skin and Emily's knees went loose, her breath rushing out on a hiss.

But Jase had her. He wrapped his arm around her torso so the strength of his arm held her tight against him, leaving one hand to cup her breast and his other to rub lower down her abdomen and pelvic bone, until he was between her legs.

A deep guttural sound rumbled against her ear as he stroked her again. “I can feel how hot you are, Em. Even through all this skirt, you're practically burning up my hand.”