Wedding Date for Hire (10 page)

He crossed his ankles and grinned, looking completely at ease with his half nakedness and rock-hard body.

Damn him
.

She marched over to her suitcase and dragged it into the bathroom with her. After she finished changing and brushed her teeth, she cracked open the door. The bedroom was pitch black. Trent must have fallen asleep. Perfect.

She tiptoed over to the bed and slid under the covers, carefully trying to not shift the mattress. Once she was settled, she let out a quiet breath and willed her body to relax.

“Maddie,” Trent whispered, disrupting the silence.

She tensed. “Yes?”

“Are you mad at me?”

She almost laughed. “No. Not anymore.”

She couldn’t see her hand in front of her face but could tell that Trent had turned and was staring at her. “Look, I didn’t mean to upset you earlier. To be honest, it is awkward for me to be sharing a bed with an attractive woman and not be…involved with her.”

“I’m attractive? I mean, you’re uncomfortable?”

“But I want to assure you that I’m 100 percent the professional. Your virtue is perfectly safe with me.”

Safe virtue.
Just what I need
.
Oh, joy
. “Thanks,” she muttered. She was grateful for the cover of darkness because she was sure all animation had left her face. Of course “Fatty Maddie” was safe from any of his advances. How could she think otherwise?

“Are we good now?” he asked.

Even though she was buzzing with lust and confusion, she answered, “Yeah, we’re good. Good night, Trent.”

“Do you want Ryan back?”

She was about to turn on her side, but his abrupt question held her frozen. “What?”

“The best man. Do you want him back?”

Do I?

“No. I may appear desperate but I’m not that desperate.”

He chuckled. “Good. Because you deserve better.”

The room went silent for several beats as she thought about how to respond to such a statement. She did deserve better—deep in her heart she knew that—but it was nice to hear someone like Trent think so, too.

“Good night, Maddie,” he said softly, and she felt the bed rustle until he got comfortable.

“Good night,” she answered, holding in a sigh.

Because she had a feeling her night was going to be anything but good.

Chapter Eight

T
rent was dreaming.

And what a friggin’ dream. It ranked right up there with winning the Super Bowl against the Dallas Cowboys where Tony Romo went out of his way to shake his hand. Yeah, that was pretty sweet. But this dream…

This dream was
much
better. He was holding something soft and sweet-smelling. An angel. All gold haloed and lovely. Her closeness was like a drug, making his body feel heavy and warm. He buried his face into her hair and wanted to stay like that forever.

However, forever was short-lived when something smacked him in the face. He woke, blinking up at the bedroom ceiling.

“What the hell?” he said groggily, holding his cheek where there was a sudden and very painful stinging sensation.

“You took the words right out of my mouth, you—you—”

He raised a hand, stopping Maddie from finishing what he could only imagine was a less than flattering adjective. So much for his angel.

“What are you all worked up about?” he asked warily.

“This,” she spat, motioning to the small space where she sat and he lay, “is what I call taking advantage.” Glaring, she looked all flustered and—Lord-don’t-put-him-in-more-hot-water-than-he-already-was—sexy with her blond curls bouncing with each word she sputtered. “And you can kindly remove your hand now, too.”

He glanced down and blinked. Then, with as much remorse as he could muster, he carefully slid his hand out from underneath her butt.

“Good grief, do you even have any clothes on?” She jerked back the covers before he could answer. He couldn’t tell if it was relief or disappointment on her face when she saw his plaid boxers. “You were supposed to stay on your side of the bed.”

He yanked back the covers, his own anger growing. “How do you know I didn’t? You could have come over to
my
side of the bed, honey. I don’t know why you’re even upset. So maybe I copped a feel in my sleep. It’s not my fault. I’m a man. We’re programmed that way,” he huffed. “I’ll sleep in the bathtub tonight, okay?”

Maddie pressed a hand to her eyes and sighed. “No. You don’t have to do that. I know nothing happened. I don’t know why I’m overreacting. I think this wedding is just getting to me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he grumbled. “Could have done without the slap in the face wake-up call, though.”

“I said I was sorry. It’s bad enough that we have to share a bed. But I wasn’t expecting to wake up together like a twisted pretzel on top of everything.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, and his gaze dipped to finally take in what she wore to bed. It had been late last night and the lights were off by the time she climbed onto her side. He smiled at her T-shirt covered in little sheep. She probably thought a shirt like that wouldn’t inspire nefarious thoughts, but she’d underestimated the mind of a healthy, single, heterosexual man. And the power she apparently had over him.

“I understand,” he said, nodding. “If it makes you feel better, you can touch me all you want when you’re sleeping.”

The warmth of her laughter heated his insides. “Thanks so much.”

Silence eventually grew between them. “So…do you want to?” he asked, watching for her reaction.

“Want to what?”

“Touch me.”

She bit her lip, those soft, plump lips that drove him crazy just looking at them. “Trent, I— It’s not about what I want. I thought we’re keeping this professional, so we don’t muck up our working relationship, right?”

Trent would have agreed with her wholeheartedly as he’d done before. But it was the doubt in her tone and expression that had him ignoring her question and taking what he’d been denying himself for too long.

He reached up and cupped her chin. “Right now, you can consider me off the clock,” he whispered, before his mouth met hers. No more sweet and gentle. This time he showed her all fire and heat. How crazy she was making him even in her sheep nightshirt.

She slipped her arms around his neck, and he pulled her closer. “Maddie,” he groaned against her lips.

He had dated plenty of women. Came close to being married. But never had he felt this overpowering need that went beyond mere physical attraction. Almost as if he’d combust if he had to spend one single moment away from her. He wondered if she felt the same, would want to continue dating after…after the wedding.

The wedding she’d hired him to attend with her.

Oh crap. Maddie believed he worked for Match Made Easy. He needed to tell her the truth. If this thing between them was going to go anywhere, he couldn’t continue lying to her. He jerked back as that thought struck him.

She blinked at him all heavy lidded with passion, and he suddenly had second thoughts about pulling away. “Is there a problem?” she asked.

Problem?
Would she hate him for not telling her the truth about his cousin’s business from the beginning? Would she file a complaint against Match Made Easy once she learned he wasn’t an escort? Would she even believe he really was starting to have feelings for her?

He shook his head. “No problem. I just realized what time it is. We, uh, need to get ready for the festivities. Can’t have the maid of honor absent.”

“Uh. That’s right. I forgot about the
festivities.
”

Trent drew in a breath and rolled off of her, knowing it was best even if it killed him to do so. Before anything went further between them, he’d have to find a way to explain the situation to her, give her the honesty that he’d come to require in any relationship.

Relationship?

He almost laughed. Maybe all those wedding speeches had gone to his head, or maybe he sensed in Maddie the same trust issues he’d been holding on to. Either way, he was starting to believe there could be something there worth taking a leap of faith. Something unconditional.

Maddie shifted onto her side, resting her cheek in her hand. “Michael’s mom is actually flying in the head chef from the Ritz Carlton in New York to give us all a personal cooking demonstration. What are the men scheduled to do?”

“Golf.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “My next-best sport.”

She laughed. “Figures. Try not to upstage my future brother in-law.”

“Can’t promise that. Blame my competitive streak.”

His phone’s text message alert went off. Maddie grabbed his phone off the side table and frowned as she handed it to him. “It’s from Kennedy,” she said stiffly.

Well…
that
timing could have been better.

“Is she checking in?” she asked, making her way to the bathroom.

He scanned the text. “No, she can’t find Bella’s leash,” he murmured.

She stopped at the doorway and arched a brow. “Your boss is watching your dog for you?”

“Uh, yeah. She’s…she’s really good like that.” He swallowed and pointed to his phone. “You go ahead and shower. I’m going to respond to Kennedy and make sure my dog is still alive.”

Her brows knit in confusion but she turned into the bathroom, the door closing behind her.

That was awkward.
Trent quietly let out a breath
.
He couldn’t continue deceiving Maddie like this. She was starting to mean something to him. He was going to have to tell his cousin that things had changed, and the whole charade was over.

And pray everything worked out for both of them.

M
addie had been in a few large-scale restaurants in her day, but she still couldn’t keep her jaw from dropping at the spacious—and immaculate—kitchen of the main house. Even with twenty women crowding around the granite island where Chef Dean was showing the proper technique of deglazing, there wasn’t a bad seat to be had.

“I would pay close attention, Maddie,” Veronica whispered. “Maybe you’ll pick up something that’ll help you get a job.”

Maddie glared at her. “Graduated with honors from culinary school, thank you very much.”

Her cousin snorted. “A lot of good it did.”

That did it. Maddie threw the dish towel that was resting on her shoulder down on the counter. Little did Veronica know but she was seconds away from a face full of flour.

Louise rushed over to them, wedging her body between them. “Isn’t this fun, guys?” Her smile was bright albeit nervous. “I always wanted to learn how to make”—she frowned in the direction of the stove—”whatever he’s making.”

Maddie chuckled. Her sister was not a cook, although it would seem that wasn’t a quality she’d really be utilizing in Michael’s family, anyway.

“It’s a real hoot,” her cousin said, checking her watch. “But when is this demo going to be over? I was hoping to get a little sun today before my boyfriend arrives.”

Louise shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think he’s going to show us another main entrée and a dessert still.”

Aunt Marie turned to them with a finger raised against her lips. “Shhh!”

Maddie exchanged a smile with her sister. “Uh-oh. We’ve officially been
shhhed
,” she said to Louise.

They giggled like they were in high school. But the thought of high school only reminded her of Trent. What was really going on between them? She’d thought she’d hired him for a simple job as her wedding date. Only, the lines were kind of blurred from what she thought was pretend and what was now resembling reality. With her track record she hated to get her hopes up, but Trent knew the pain of being left behind. Surely he wouldn’t be able to walk away from her so easily after the wedding was over—curse or no stupid curse. But she couldn’t be sure.

Louise snagged a piece of chicken from the plate being passed around. “How’s your room?” she asked with a knowing grin.

Maddie shrugged. “Fine.”

“Fine? My future mother-in-law wanted to place Michael’s grandma in that room. But I fought for you, since it’s the most private,” she said, overpronouncing the word private. “Please tell me it’s more than just
fine
and you two are getting some quality alone time together. I want you guys to feel as though you’re on a romantic getaway.”

Well, this morning felt like a romantic getaway. Sort of. The way Trent had passionately kissed her made her toes curl like party favors. He had wanted her. There was no mistaking that. Then he received that text from Kennedy, and he started to act weird. Or maybe she acted weird, which made
him
act weird. Ugh. Maybe she was overthinking this.

“Thanks,” she said, pulling Louise into a hug. “Trent and I are having a lovely time.”

“I’m so glad. You know, Trent’s really different from other guys you dated. “

You’re telling me.
Technically they weren’t even dating…or were they? The way he kissed sure made her feel that way.

A dull throb began to bloom in her head. She reached up and applied pressure with her fingers, wishing—like everything else in her life—she could WD-40 it away.

Chef Dean clasped his hands together and looked at the group expectantly. “Now I think it’s time for some volunteers. How about the chatty madame to my left?” he said, with a wave of his hand in Maddie’s direction.

Maddie’s face heated. “Oh. Uh, sure.” Feeling like she’d been singled out by a teacher in school for chewing gum, she slowly slid off her stool. She made her way around the island and stood next to Chef.

“And perhaps you?” he asked Veronica.

Veronica grabbed her cheeks as if she had beat out Meryl Streep for an Academy Award. “Oh, thank you. I’d love to. You can call me Vonnie.”

Maddie pursed her lips.
Puh-leeeeze.
Wasn’t this the same woman who just asked when she could leave? And now she was all gooey eyes and eyelash flutters.

“Okay, ladies,” Chef Dean explained, “we are going to attempt to make a delicious beef stir-fry that can easily be whipped up when you come home from a hard day’s work.”

Veronica cast a meaningful glance at Maddie. “What if you don’t have a job?”

Chef Dean’s brows knit together. “Uh, then you can make it anytime you are hungry.”

Maddie kept silent, refusing to be baited. This was not going to be about her or her cousin. She’d rise above her dislike for Louise’s sake. “What would you like me to do?” she asked him.

“Ah. I want you to slice the vegetables like I demonstrated, and in the meantime, Vonnie here will sauté the strips of tenderloin.”

Veronica’s face lit up. “Isn’t that cute? You’re going to be
my
sous chef, Maddie.”

Maddie gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Give me the knife,” she said to the chef through clenched teeth.

“Uh…” Louise raised her hand. “Maybe weapons aren’t such a good thing to have here.”

Chef Dean let out a hearty laugh. “They’re not weapons, my dear. Used the way I demonstrated, they are precious equipment used to create extraordinary culinary taste experiences.”

Louise worried her lip. “Is that before or after someone dies?”

“Wow, somebody is morbid,” Michael’s mother commented, wrinkling her nose.

“Don’t worry,” Maddie said, taking the knife from Chef Dean. “I’m a professional, remember?”

“I like this one’s attitude,” Chef Dean said. “First rule in the kitchen is to not be intimidated by the kitchen. Yes?”

“Yes.” Maddie grabbed a yellow bell pepper and began slicing it in perfect julienne strips. She may not have a job to use her skills, but she hadn’t forgotten them. Chef Dean patted her on the shoulder when she was finished and gave her an approving smile.

Take that, Veronica!

Veronica frowned at the plate of uncooked meat. “Does it always look so…dead?”

That remark was rewarded by several chuckles from the audience of women. Chef Dean cleared his throat. “If you think it looks dead now, wait until you drop it into the pan of hot oil.”

“Do I, uh, have to touch it?” she asked.

Maddie picked up a pair of tongs and held them out to her. “Use these.”

Chef Dean handed her a white onion. “You seem very comfortable working in a kitchen,” he commented to her.

“I am.” Maddie smiled. “I have some restaurant experience at the Red Tomato but things didn’t work out and they cut their staff.”
Thanks to the no good rat best man
. “I’m looking for another job.”