May the Best Man Win (22 page)

Setting his wineglass on the end table, he picked up the remote.

“Besides, babe, our movie's been burning a hole in my pocket since I picked it up at lunch.” He hit Start and the opening credits to
Guardians of the Galaxy
began to play. “I'd have ended up dragging you out of there early either way.”

This man.
If she wasn't careful, she was going to lose her heart to him completely.

And for the first time, she wondered if that would be such a bad thing after all.

June

“Okay, okay. Fine, I admit it.” Emily laughed, weaving through the maze of bodies lazing around Jase's living room. “In the blind taste-off, Brody's flourless chocolate cake was better than mine.”

A round of cheers erupted from Team Brody, composed of Max and Sean. While Team Em—Jase and Molly—groused and grumbled, making her feel only marginally better about the humiliating loss.

She'd thought her recipe rocked and had talked so much trash about it over the past two weeks that Brody had finally called her out for a blind taste test. It had been a split decision, but she'd started to suspect Jase might have cheated when she saw him slip Molly a twenty.

Whatever. She'd had two spectacular slices of cake, definitely too much wine, and an absolutely awesome night playing Cards Against Humanity.

Now Jase caught her hand as she edged past, tugging her back so she tumbled into his lap, while he joked with Max about needing to stoke the competitive culinary fires between her and Brody to see what else they could score.

She leaned back against Jase's arm, loving the way he'd pause every now and then to look at her, give her a quick kiss, or just rub a bit of her hair between his fingers. Loving how easy everything was now that she'd stopped fighting it.

Loving this feeling of finding a perfect fit for the first time in her life.

Loving that she could finally let go, because she trusted that Jase would be there to catch her.

Jase turned to her. “What's that smile about?”

“Just that I think I might be able to take him with my bananas Foster.”

This time, Jase, who'd pretty much become her number one cheerleader, gave her a pitying smile. “I'm not going to lie to you, sweetheart. Your chances will be far better if you steer clear of any recipe calling for booze. You know that's his thing.”

She did. Like she knew so many things about all of them that she hadn't before. She knew Max was a player of the highest order, and the guy seemed to have a rule for everything—especially the women he'd take out. She knew that Sean wasn't even close to the gentleman she'd first thought he was, but she liked him a heck of a lot better now that she'd seen him for who he really was—dick jokes and all. She knew that once in a while Molly's eyes would linger on Sean just long enough that, despite Jase's assurances to the contrary, Emily had started to wonder if maybe there was something else to know there as well.

And she knew that as much as Jase loved his friends, in about fifteen minutes he was going to kick them out. And that once they were alone, she'd learn something new about the man who'd made her start to believe in all the things she'd thought she'd given up forever.

“Okay, kids,” Jase announced, proving just how much she knew indeed. “Bedtime. Grab your trash and get out of here.”

Within minutes, the apartment was empty except for the two of them.

Jase threw the lock on the door behind him and gave her that crooked, sexy smile that did crazy things to her belly.

“Had to get them out of here before they finished everything off.”

She raised a brow, giggling a little because, really? “You didn't want to share the cake?”

Jase gave her one of those “come on” looks, moving toward her with slow, predatory intent that had her heart skipping a beat. “The cake was spectacular. Yours in particular. But I'm talking about the
whipped cream
you made for on top.”

She swallowed, taking a step back toward Jase's bedroom. And then another. “I didn't know you were a whipped-cream man.” Her words were barely a whisper.

“Neither did I until you tested it, scooping up that little glob and then licking it as it started to slip down your finger. Jesus, Em… A man can only take so much.”

She knew the feeling. When he shaved in the morning? God help her.

Standing there in his towel and nothing else, his body clean, his hair damp dry in those soft, tumbled waves, methodically revealing one strip of fresh, smooth skin after another? She'd snapped the first time she watched him, barely managing to get the razor out of Jase's hands before dropping to her knees and delivering the kind of good-morning kiss that cost them their bus.

“So the whipped cream is your limit?” she teased breathlessly.

Jase stopped where he was and looked at her as though he'd just realized something. “I think
you
are.”

She swallowed, her heart thumping hard. Because that look. Those words. That very moment was when it happened. When she knew.

She loved him.

* * *

Jase stared at the reports in front of him, ready to pull the hair from his head. He was on his third temporary assistant now, and based on what he was looking at, number four was right around the corner. It didn't make sense—had she even used the accounts he'd given her?

Rubbing at the back of his neck, he groaned as he pulled up everything he'd sent the day before.

And that's when he sensed it. That disapproving stare burning into him from the open door.

His head shot up, and—hell yes—he was out of his seat in the blink of an eye.

“Janice, oh love of my life, tell me you're back. Please. That you'll never leave me again.”

“Don't get excited.” Janice held up the little SnugRide car seat with tiny Jeremy mauling his baby fist inside. “We've got three more weeks.”

“Just here to torment me with what I can't have then, huh?” Jase asked, only half joking. Because damn he missed her.

Reluctantly, Janice handed him the carrier, and he headed back to his desk, where Jeremy got parked on top of a pile of useless reports headed for the circular file. Unfastening the little buckles, Jase carefully scooped up the little boy he hadn't seen since he was a week old. He smiled. She'd dressed him in one of the tiny outfits Jase had picked up at Neiman Marcus.

Jase tucked the baby against his chest, keeping an eye on Mom to make sure he was doing everything right. “Geez, Janice, what are you feeding this guy? He's growing like a weed.”

She raised a brow. “You really want to know?”

Jase winced and shook his head. “No. But he's definitely getting big. And he's kind of firm now too—”

“Mmm-hmm, he's cute, Jase. I built him. I know.”

The impatient tone had him turning a wary eye toward Janice. But then he got it, recognized the look from too many conversations in this very office.

She wasn't even working, and someone had leaked her the news about his love life.

“You're right, I should have told you,” he started, cradling Jeremy's little butt and head in his hands. But he'd really thought she wouldn't hear until she was back. And then he'd planned to tell her the whole sordid tale. Like a back-to-work present. “You already know it's Emily, right?”

“Of course I know it's Emily.” Janice sat back in her chair and snapped her fingers for the baby, who was still trying to get his fist in his mouth.

One of these days, he was going to have to figure out who her informant was. Reluctantly, Jase handed Jeremy back. Then watched as Janice adjusted and cooed over her little boy, looking in that moment softer than he'd ever seen her.

If a woman as hard as Janice could look that soft with her son, what would Emily look like? He could almost see her leaning over a little body with tiny, kicking legs, whispering sweet nothings in her gentle voice.

And where the hell had that come from?

Janice was clearing her throat, obviously waiting for Jase to start dishing the dirt on all things Emily.

“So you remember we didn't exactly get along, right?”

“I had a baby, not a stroke, Jase.”

Man, he couldn't wait for Janice to come back.

* * *

“Where's my girl?” Brody called as Jase cut through the high tops toward the table where Molly, Max, and Brody were already situated. He grinned, stupidly pleased to hear Brody claiming Emily as one of his own, but hell, he wanted them to like her.
Really
like her, so it meant a lot.

“Work. Or drinks for work, I guess. She's downtown, meeting with the head of some corporate account they're trying to score.” Then nodding to the spot where Sean would normally sit, he asked, “And how about
my girl
?”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Hotel thing.”

Max took a long swallow. “Think he took Valerie Lennox out again.”

Jase slid into his seat, glancing back to see who was around to take his order since Molly wasn't working. “Yeah, nice woman. We went out with them a few weeks back. Easy to talk to. Very proper. Polite. A lot like Sean when he's… You know.” Jase looked around the table, waving his hand in a sort of circle the rest of them seemed to follow, since they were all nodding in understanding.

“Didn't he see her last week for something too? Valerie's going to start getting ideas pretty soon,” Brody said, making eye contact with someone across the bar. A nod, and within three seconds, Jill was over taking Jase's order.

Max blew out a low whistle, a sorry look on his face. “I don't know. I'm starting to think Sean might be the next to fall. I give him six months before he cracks.”

Molly made a scoffing noise. “Right. Um, have you seen the guy sitting next to you?”

Jase looked at Brody, who was on Max's other side. But then he realized all eyes were on
him
.

“What, me?” Great, and the way his voice just cracked…not cool at all. And not even close. “That's nuts.”

“Okay.” He didn't care for the way Brody was eyeballing him, or the blatant insinuation in that single-word reply.

Right, like he didn't know
exactly
what that meant.

Then Max was leaning forward, his arms folded in front of him on the table, a slanted smirk riding his mouth. “He did bail on hoops last week to go hang out at Emily's parents' house.”

“For fuck's sake, they were out of town and the sump alarm went off. The basement had a foot of water in it.”

“No need to get defensive,” Molly clucked, the corners of her mouth twitching.

And then it was like some kind of feeding frenzy, with all of them—including Jill and one of the other girls from the bar—getting in on the fun by citing observations, incidents, and excuses backing up their assertion that he was done. All but ready to get down on one knee.

“And wasn't there a second toothbrush on her counter?”

“That whole thing where it's like he can't look away…”

“The ‘let me check with Em first' business…”

“…like he's the luckiest fucking man on the planet…”

“…every time she walks in the room…”

“Can you even sleep if she's not there?”

They were just ribbing him, and considering the way he dished it, God knew he'd better be able to take it, but man… He pulled at his collar.

Because all of it was true.

Being with Emily was amazing. There wasn't any bullshit with her, like there had always been with the other women he'd dated. His fault, not theirs. But with Emily, nothing. The time he spent with her was because he wanted to. Needed to. It wasn't about some end goal or making sure he had a little company available, should he decide he wanted it. It was about making her smile and feeling like he'd done something with his day. It was about relaxing in a way he hadn't even known he could—just because she was with him.

She never pushed him for anything in their relationship. Hell, most of the time he was the one who couldn't resist nudging past the next commitment marker. Moving from that point where he asked when she was free again to assuming they'd see each other the next night unless someone said otherwise. All but skipping past the stage of occasionally sleeping over due to extreme sexual fatigue to asking whose place they were going to stay at that night so one of them knew to pack a bag.

And he liked it. He liked that after a couple of weeks of heavy social commitments they'd taken a Saturday off and spent the entire day watching TV in bed. Talking. Laughing. Making love.

It was
good
.

They
were good.

But suddenly, he was wondering just how deep he had gotten himself.

“I don't know, man.” Max grinned from across the table. “For a guy who swore he'd never get married, you have been giving off all the right signs.”

Jase pushed up from the table, waving them all off with a laugh and a threatening “Yeah, yeah, bite it, fuckers” just to show there weren't any hard feelings.

Then he headed out front to the sidewalk. Because suddenly he desperately needed some air and a little space.

* * *

Something was up with Jase. Emily couldn't put her finger on it, but for the last couple of days things had been…
off
. He'd shown up after work on Tuesday and told her he was slammed at the office, that he'd probably be going in early and that it would be easier if they slept at their own apartments for a couple of days. No problem. If anyone understood about the need to put work ahead of fun once in a while, she did. Heck, her phone was glued to her side for that very reason. If something came up, she had to handle it
then
. Even if
then
happened to be in the middle of dinner with friends or at 2:00 a.m.

She didn't think twice about it. Until she saw him two nights later for dinner. He'd wrapped her in his arms the way he'd been doing every time he saw her for nearly the last three months, but instead of the usual lingering hold that always made her feel like he truly didn't want to let go, it was so brief that it almost felt like he
needed
to let go. Work, she figured. He was tense. No big thing.

Only now it was Saturday morning, and Jase was walking through her place with those deep lines cut between his brows as he picked up a hat, a pair of sunglasses, a copy of
Men's Health
.