May the Best Man Win (13 page)

“Doesn't matter. I'll take one to this. Just so Emily doesn't get any ideas.”

February

“Whoa, look who managed to claw his way free of the bedroom.”

Jase glanced up from tying his Nikes to see Max clapping Romeo on the shoulder across the locker room.

“Good to see you, man. How's the better half?”

“The morning sickness is gone,” Romeo said, grinning. “Sally's appetite is back, and baby's been asking for cake. Lots of cake. Like, we've gone through four since we got back from Florida.”

What Romeo didn't mention was that he'd been baking the cakes his new wife had been craving from scratch for almost two weeks now. A fact Jase knew, since he'd been the one Romeo called from the grocery store in a panic about whether the cake from the bakery department was going to be good enough. What exactly they put in it, and whether a box mix would be better. He'd been going off the deep end over cake—and friends didn't let friends go down that way.

So Jase had called Janice, gotten a recipe, met Romeo at the store, and taken him back to Chez Foster where they'd muddled through the cake-baking process together like men. Meaning, it took three tries, a second trip to the market, and a refusal to call for directions…but in the end, that was one fine cake Romeo took home.

Janice to the rescue again.

“You here for the game?” Jase asked, joining them along with Dean and a couple of the other regulars they'd been playing ball with over the past few years.

“Yeah, man. I need it,” Romeo said, patting a stomach as flat as Jase's. Probably more so. “Don't want to get soft.”

Max snorted, cutting a glance at Jase. “Come on, man. I know he just got married and has a baby on the way, but no way can I let that one go.”

Never.

“And this was the only place you thought you could get
hard
?” Max asked, eyes gleaming, hand over his heart. “Man, I'm flattered, but I respect the institution of marriage far too much to—”

“Aww, shit,” Romeo groaned, shaking his head. “Bite me, Brandt.”

“That's what I'm saying… I
want
to. You know I do. But it's over, lamb chop.”

These guys. Gotta love 'em.

A few minutes later, the other guys headed out to the court, while Jase stayed behind as Romeo finished getting changed.

He looked good, relaxed like he hadn't looked since before the engagement party. “Married life looks good on you, man,” Jase told him.

Reaching into his gym bag, Romeo nodded. “It's been good.” Then checking to see who was left in the locker room, he added, “Having that wedding behind us, man… What a difference. Suddenly, it's just Sal and me, you know? No more town hall meetings about the big day. No more worrying if this one will fall through too. No more Willsons looking at me like they wished they could scrape me off their shoe.”

It had been rough with them, for sure. “They coming around now that you guys are official?”

Romeo laughed. “Not likely, but the wedding is over. It was like you said—they just sort of faded back into the woodwork. Yeah, they'll be around with the baby, but in small doses. Not like my folks.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Romeo pulled a fitted sport shirt over his head and closed his locker.

“Being honest here, you look worse than you did two weeks ago. What's going on?”

Jase shook his head but then shrugged, because it was Romeo, and the guy had divulged his darkest secrets and worst fears to him over the years. Jase could trust him, and maybe he just needed to say it.

“Emily.”

Romeo raised a brow and lowered his voice. “I thought that was nothing. She isn't suddenly looking for more, is she?”

Running his palm across his mouth, Jase shook his head.

“Then what… Oh, shit—are you the one who's falling? Because seriously, if that were the case, you'd have just made my wife the happiest freaking woman on the planet. She worries about you, Jase, with that string of ‘girlfriends' but never anyone special. And Emily… She's special. Dude, let me tell Sally.”

Jase almost choked on his tongue. “No! You've got it wrong. I'm not falling into anything, especially not with Emily.”

He liked women. Respected them. But when it came to romance, there were rules he lived by, and
falling
went against them. Jase liked to date. Exclusively. But on a limited basis and always on his terms. Girlfriends. Brief relationships that were casual and fun, with minimal chance of drama or expectations getting out of hand. And it worked.

“So what is it?”

It was the sizzle-and-pop chemistry between them. Her long legs and soft smile. That sharp wit and wicked, sweet tongue.

“She's going to be there for the rehearsal tonight. Marcos Nicks's wedding. We're paired up as attendants for tomorrow, which means we'll probably be partnered for the meals.”

He'd have to dance with her. Feel her in his arms. Close enough to touch in all the places he knew he shouldn't.

“If you're worried about it being weird between you, or her expecting something from you, just call her up, man. She's cool. I think you're stressing about nothing.”

Romeo didn't get it. And even though the words were there, Jase couldn't make himself say them out loud.

He
was the one who wanted something. He was the one who hadn't been able to get Emily out his head. And even as he stood there sweating about the night to come, a part of him knew it was because he'd already accepted the inevitable.

“Jase, chill. Shake out your arms, loosen up your shoulders. It's one night. Look, if you two hook up again, whatever. If not, then no big deal. But relax about it and just…hell, let life happen, you know?”

He was right. Besides, there was always the possibility—the
good possibility
—that once Jase actually saw Emily tonight, he'd take one look at her and realize he'd been worked up over nothing and he wasn't interested anymore. Okay, so maybe it was more like a slim possibility, but a possibility just the same.

“Yeah, thanks, man.”

Romeo smacked the back of his hand into Jase's gut and flashed him a mouth full of pearly whites. “Then enough of this chick business. Let's play some ball.”

* * *

By the time Jase pulled into the lot of the squat Episcopal church that night, he'd almost convinced himself that seeing Emily again was all it would take to get his head back on straight. Like some kind of contagion, she'd be the key to a cure.

But as he approached the red-painted double doors, his heart started pounding the way it used to before a big game. When all the guys would be chest bumping into each other, rattling helmets, and smacking the glass with their sticks—and he'd be staring at the scoreboard, his blood pumping hot, all thoughts zeroing in on that one goal.

Emily's laugh reached him the moment he stepped through the doors to the vestibule. That heavenly sound echoed through the open space, playing in the rafters before slipping softly around him.

He wanted her.

And cue the not-so-soft physical reaction. Great, he was already scanning for the closest closet. A month had been too long.

Crossing into the nave, he saw her. She was wearing a classic black dress that clung in all the best ways, leaning casually against one of the pews and talking to another bridesmaid. Emily's hair was pinned up in some kind of twisty thing that was sexy enough to have him wondering what it would take to get it down again.

What it would take to get her alone again.

And then she stalled where she was, turning to look over her shoulder his way.

His pulse jacked.

One look and he'd know whether a coatroom or closet visit was off the table or not.

“Hiya, Jase. You made it,” Brody announced, clapping him hard on the shoulder and effectively yanking Jase's attention around to him and Max. Whom he hadn't even noticed walking in.

“Guys, good to see you.” Or normally it would have been, but they'd just cost him the answer to a question he'd wanted very badly. A glance back to Emily, and she was fully engaged in her conversation. Turning back to the guys who were watching him a little too intently, Jase asked, “We know when they're starting?”

The sharp clapping of their wedding coordinator, followed by the command that they begin, had everyone turning back toward the front of the church, and all attention was on the rehearsal at hand. Jase's too. It was either that or pull a fire alarm and lure Emily into another dark alcove, and he wasn't sure either of their eternal souls could take the hit of a second infraction.

So he focused on the front of the church. Without so much as a glimmer of humor in her eyes, the neat-as-a-pin little woman directed them through a routine Jase could manage with his eyes closed, considering the number of times he'd been through it already.

For a moment he thought he might be able to get some satisfaction if they lined the attendants up for a walk-through, but even then they were crowded with the other attendants, the coordinator snapping in everyone's faces until finally the rehearsal was over and they were all being shooed out into the night.

Jase watched as Emily left with a couple of the girls before he had been able to score any deep eye contact. But it didn't matter. They were all heading over to the restaurant Greek Islands from there. He'd have time.

* * *

Waiting by the bar in the rustic-style Greektown staple, he replied to a few work emails and then basically faked “busy” until she walked through the door, laughing with one of the other girls in a way that had his heart thudding heavily in his chest.

Emily's steps slowed when she saw him, her smile fading just enough for him to see the nerves she usually hid. He got it. They needed to talk. But not wanting to draw too much attention, or be completely obvious or a total ass, he helped the other girl with her jacket first and directed her toward the back of the restaurant. And then he turned to Emily, the sense of smug satisfaction she brought out in him rushing through his veins.

“No date tonight,” he murmured close to her ear as he helped her out of her coat. His thumbs trailed down the bare skin of her arms and he drew a slow breath, taking in the scent of her.

Emily stiffened, then turned to him, alarm in her eyes. “Jase, we agreed. It's over.”

She really was a good girl. “We did. But—”

“I have a date,” she cut in, sounding almost…apologetic?

No way. She'd shown up alone. And the way she wasn't letting her eyes connect with his was perhaps even more telling than if she'd been staring straight into them. Because
he could feel it
. He could feel the resistance and the draw and that same
something
lighting up the air between them.

“So where is he?” he asked, running this thumb along the bend of her elbow.

“Caught in traffic. He's just late. Jase…” she said, whispering his name, but he didn't need to hear whatever was coming next.

“Sure,” he said, stealing Janice's most nut-crushing line. Emily was trying to save face, even though they were beyond that. He got it. She didn't want to be the one who made the move. She didn't want to be obvious. So she claimed a date. One who conveniently wouldn't show. Whatever. As long as she left with
him
, Jase didn't care how it happened.

At the table there were three open seats remaining. Together.

Jase pulled out the middle chair for Emily before taking the seat to her right. Leaving the chair for her imaginary date available on the other side.

Everyone was chatting about the church and how beautiful the ceremony was going to be the next day. Jase joked around with the guys. Teased the bride-to-be, flirted with her grandmother. Basically made sure he'd done his small-talk best before doing what he'd been wanting to do from the start. Turn his attention to Emily.

As if sensing her reprieve was over, she met his eyes.

“So how have you been?” she asked politely. Stiffly.

Which only made him think about what it was like when her body went soft and lax beneath him.

“Jase,” she said so quietly that it snapped his attention back to the now. To where he was staring at her mouth.

Right.

Eyes up here. Got it.

“So tell me about your date,” he said with just a pinch of malevolence, because this was Emily after all. Old habits and all that.

She seemed duly uncomfortable.

He liked it. She could squirm a bit for making up a date. And he'd make it up to her later.

When she didn't volunteer any information, he prodded again.

“What's his name? Have you guys been seeing each other long?” He smiled wickedly. Knowing it hadn't been that long since she'd been with him. “Getting serious?”

Emily stared down at the empty spot beside her and took a long, deep breath. Bracing, maybe. Time to come clean?

“His name is Mitchel. We've been out a few times.”

Emily, Emily.

“A few times.” Suggesting
three
or more. Which suggested something else altogether. Something that tightened his gut and left a sour taste on his tongue. Because the third date usually meant—

No.

She was screwing with him.

So he'd screw back. “And what does this Mitchel do for a living?”

“Investment banker,” came the answer in a register octaves too low.

Jase froze, his eyes locked with Emily's as it hit him.

Mitchel wasn't just the product of Emily's imagination. He was real.
Mitchel freaking Beekman
, the guy who'd been all over Emily at Romeo's engagement party.

And, motherfucker,
he was there
.

A pair of broad shoulders in a navy wool overcoat brushed past him.

“Hey, Sunshine. Sorry, I got held up,” Mitchel offered jovially before rubbing a hand over Emily's upper arm and dropping a kiss on her cheek. An appreciative sort of grunt left the guy as he stepped back and raked a look over her that had Jase's hands balling at his side. “You look amazing.”