Runaway Heart (A Game of Hearts #2) (6 page)

I heard the tears in her voice and turned. “Don’t,” I said, holding up a finger. “You start, and then I start, and we can’t on a day such as this.”

“You’re right,” she agreed, giggling as she wiped the corners of her eyes.

Stepping into the dress, I slid it up under the towel.

She moved behind me, helping me with the zipper. After clearing her throat, she said with a smirk, “Ed will love it.”

“You just had to, didn’t you? You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“What?” she innocently asked. “Watching you finally unravel over a guy the way I did over Phillip? Hell yeah, I’m enjoying it. You deserve to feel the rush that comes with finding a guy who shakes up your world a little. I know Ed. He’s a good guy. A
worthy
guy.”

“And a very
unattainable
guy,” I said, twisting in front of the mirror to see the back of the dress. My eyes met hers in the mirror as I mustered a serious tone. “Maggie, I can’t get involved. Especially not with him. We live on opposite sides of the world, and I doubt he’s even relationship material.”

But even saying it out loud felt like a lie. He brought me damn pancakes. Who did that? People made of relationship material, that was who.

“Fine,” she said, moving around me to the closet. “I won’t bring it up again, okay? It was just a fun thought… matching you two up. But it’s not my business, and it’s not fair for me to pressure you.”

“Exactly,” I agreed, playing with my hair to figure out if I wanted it up or down. Annoyed Ed’s smile flashed through my mind as I did.

I dropped my hair and spun to find Maggie standing in front of me with her roller skates in her hands.

“These are for you. Your gift for being my maid-of-honor.” Tears danced in her eyes.

My jaw dropped. “No way! I can’t take these from you! You traded your bike for them, Maggs! They’re practically like a piece of you!”

She pushed them into my hands. “Which is why I want you to have them. I’m a mom now. I don’t have time to skate anymore, and you… you’re a badass roller derby chick who could make good use of them. And then a piece of me will be with you during your matches.”

“Bouts,” I corrected.

She laughed. “Whatever. I want you to take them. Give them another round of life.”

I set them down and pulled her into a tight hug, overwhelmed by all the mushy, gushy feelings she had a way of bringing out of me. “I love you, Maggs.”

“I love you too, Hannah.”

We stepped back from each other, laughing as we swiped at our eyes. “Let’s get you ready. Just a few more hours and you’ll be a married woman.”

“Can you believe it?”

My head tilted to the side as my smile softened on her. She was positively glowing. “Yeah,” I said, nodding. “I can.”

She beamed as she turned, reaching for her dress. “Let’s do this.”

“DO YOU, MAGDELINE ROSALIE FAIRCHILD, take Phillip ta be yer lawfully wedded husband?” a dark man named Andre said. Maggie explained to me earlier he was a friend who helped her out while she traveled on her boat.

Leave it to Maggie to always make a friend.

“I do,” Maggie said, beaming up at Phillip.

She was a vision of what every bride would hope to look like on her special day. Her dress flowed down just a little past her knees. Her red hair played like leaves in the wind as a cool, ocean breeze moved in and around us.

But it was her smile that had my throat knotted up in happiness for her.

I wasn’t sure I had ever seen Maggie so happy, and I was so proud of my best friend for going after what she wanted and making it happen.

I couldn’t think of a better person who deserved happiness more.

Andre smiled over at Phillip and lightly slapped him on the back. “Well, den, I tink it’s time ya kissed da bride, man.”

We all cheered as Phillip dipped Maggie over his arm and sealed a promising kiss on her lips. I was careful to keep my eyes away from Ed, who stood across from me in a white, button-down cotton shirt and khaki dress pants that hugged him in all the right places.

When they came up for air, Andre said, “Mista and Missus Phillip Warrington, everyone.”

Maggie’s father wiped at his tears as Maggie and Phillip made their way past us toward the reception venue, laughing and cheering. Ed and I waited to follow suit until Phillip’s parents, in fancy clothes with stiff-lipped expressions, Maggie’s dad, strutting proud as a peacock with Autumn in his arms, and a few of their other friends followed after them.

Ed took my arm in his as he leaned close. “I didn’t get to tell ye earlier, but ye look damn good in that dress, love.”

I glanced down at our arms intertwined, feeling a swirling, fluttery feeling in my stomach. If it weren’t for the formalities of the wedding, I probably would have retracted my arm from his.

At least, I thought I would have.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I offered, trying to keep my wayward thoughts organized and on point.

His hair was slicked back, really showing the deep gold to his eyes, which made me think of the hue the sun took at sunset when the sky was a kaleidoscope of colors.

They did things to my stomach. Nervous things I didn’t like.

I cleared my throat, and then pulled out and dusted off my authoritative tone. “Now, remember,” I said as we crossed the sand and headed up the stairs into the small restaurant cleared out to be their reception hall. “No drinking until after they leave. We have to be on our best behavior.”

He mock-saluted me. “Did you happen to notice the gutted look on Phillip’s dear ‘ole mum’s face earlier?”

I hadn’t paid much attention. My sights never wandered too far from watching Maggie and Phillip. Well, of course, there was also a lot of covert looks tossed Ed’s way too, but I didn’t really want to think about that… or the fact he’d caught me a few times and tossed a wink back at me.

Like I said before… I wasn’t on my best game.

“She should be happy Phillip found someone as amazing as Maggie is,” I replied, my stomach burning a little with annoyance. Phillip’s mother could take her opinions and shove them up her—

“I agree one hundred percent.” Ed cut my thought off as he stuffed his hands in his pockets with a sigh. “Ye’ll not see me on the same side of the room as her. Sodding, old bat.”

I looked over at him, squinting against the sunlight. “Hold grudges much, Ed?”

“Only when a good holding is needed, love.” He laughed, pulling his hand out of his pocket and draping his arm over my shoulder. I didn’t get enough time to over-think the action, because he pulled me closer against him and conspiratorially whispered, “Okay, here’s the plan. When Phil and Maggie make their escape, ye’ll go ‘round to the bartender and show him a bit o’ your charm.”

His eyes briefly darted down to my chest with a cocky grin. My knees wobbled a bit. Sort of like they had taken one too many poundings from a blocker and needed a rest or else I’d be on my ass.

“Once he’s otherwise distracted, I’ll nick the bottle and Bob’s your uncle.”

“I don’t have an uncle named Bob,” I said, unable to keep from giving him a hard time about his odd way of saying things.

“Stick to the plan and don’t act dodgy least we get caught and have to make a runner,” he continued, ignoring my comeback.

I snorted. “The only time you’ll see me dodge is when I see a two-hundred-and-fifty pound girl with a murderous look in her eyes and a pep to her skates cannonballing her way toward me. A bartender, I can handle.”

A valley the size of the island we stood on formed between his eyebrows. “Right… now that we have it sorted, let’s go find our seats.”

“Sure,” I said, laughing.

As we made our way across the dining area, Ed moved his arm from my shoulder and placed his hand along my lower back as if guiding me to my seat.

Don’t notice… don’t notice,
I begged my skin, which tingled where his hand rested, but I guess my hormones were boycotting me because I definitely noticed.

All of me noticed.

We sat at the table next to Maggie and Phillip’s chairs, waiting for them to make their entrance in companionable silence. Silence I was thankful for, because I spent it internally yelling at my body to calm the fuck down.

But the yelling fit was quickly ended by Ed saying, “Oh, I forgot to tell ye!”

The speakers came to life at the same time, playing something soft and soothing.

“What?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the door so I could see Maggie and Phillip enter.

“Phil said we can move our stuff up to the house so we don’t have to sleep on the floor tonight.” He sounded pleased with himself.

I took a quick peek in his direction. “I thought Maggie’s dad was staying at the house?”

“He was until Andre offered to take him out across the island after the reception. Heard him say something about ‘prime fishing’. Ye ready to ditch the floor and sleep on a real bed?”

I smirked at him, thinking about having to sleep another night on that God-awful mattress. “You bet I am,” I said, relief loosening the knot in my throat.

Wait a minute.

“But where will you be sleeping?”

“It’s the pull-out sofa for me, love. Unless, of course, ye decide ye’re up for it,” he answered with a sly grin.

“Up for it?” I pretended I didn’t know what he was suggesting.

“I’ll tell ye later.” He tipped his head at the door.

I WATCHED HER FROM ACROSS the room.

Watched her secretly dab the corner of her eyes when Phillip and Maggie shared their first dance. Witnessed her take an entire room that sat silently staring into space, and woo them with her humor until everyone was belting out laughter during her maid-of-honor speech.

In which I tried my best to follow after with a speech of my own.

Watched her dance with Maggie and Phillip to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” hit, throwing her head back in laughter every few seconds as she pretended to be a werewolf.

I have to admit, I chuckled a time or two.

And when I didn’t think it could get any better, I watched as she sought Maggie’s father out—a nice old chap—where he sat in a corner alone, sipping a cup of coffee. After many protests and a whole lot of charm on her part, she got him to his feet and on the dance floor, twirling her around in the timeless way Americans did in the old days.

She was the life of the party. She had this thing about her that made you want to smile. Hell,
made
you smile with or without even thinking about smiling.

By the time the DJ began the parting words for Maggie and Phillip, I knew I wanted to get Hannah alone. Not because I wanted her… all right… I wanted her. Badly. But I also had the insane urge to just talk to her. To have her share some of her infectious laughter with me—
only
me.

I knew I treaded dangerous waters by thinking that, but a man had to do, what a man had to do.

“I think it’s time, love,” I said soon after we waved Maggie and Phillip off.

“Time for?” Hannah dragged out, swishing the ice around in her glass in an adorable, daydream-like state. I imagined she was coming off the high of watching her best friend head off into the picturesque sunset, probably wondering when it would be her turn.

I nodded to the bar, laid my best smirk on her, and waited for the pieces to click with giddy anticipation.

She stood at once. “Oh yeah! Finally, some real action. Let’s do this.” She set her cup down and took out the clip holding her hair up.

I had to swallow.

An avalanche of golden curls cascaded down in all their gleaming glory until they hit her shoulders. The waning sunlight streaming through the windows caught the almost-white highlights framing her face, making her blue eyes look like stained glass.

I mean, I knew she had all the right curves to drive a man crazy and a sexy laugh to boot, but damn me.

She fidgeted with her dress until her breasts were in prime placement. The dark, sooty sweep of her lashes entranced me, locking me in place like an unexperienced lad working up the nerve to get his first kiss. Because I really could have kissed her good and well just then.

My stomach twisted in nervous knots.

What the shite, Ed?

Without a plan or a word, she sauntered over to the bar, taking her time with her stride and swishing her hips in a way that had my mind playing out bedroom scenes that would surely send me straight to hell. It was as if she knew every man in the room watched her, and she didn’t care. Didn’t even twitch.

She was that confident.

I might be in love.

Shaking my head out of its haze, I took the long way around the room, hoping to go unnoticed. She was leaning across the bar, telling what I assumed was a hell of a good joke, because the bartender tipped his head back in laughter.

Damn, she had skills. I couldn’t recall a lass I’d come across who’d go along with my shenanigans the way Hannah had so far.

I glanced around, ensuring no one watched. Nope. Every eye in sight was on her, including mine.

My heart raced a little as I greedily traced the outline of her body. I nearly toppled over my own feet when she leaned closer to whisper something to the bartender, showing off her supple cleavage, and my stomach clenched as an off feeling passed through my chest. Like ice and fire, all at once.

I rubbed at the back of my neck, trying to figure out what the hell it meant. And then it hit me—discontent.

He flirted back with her.
Enjoying
her. Thinking of her in a way I didn’t want him to think of her.

She shot a quick look in my direction, telling me to get on with it. Her distraction came seconds later as she pointed at something in the opposite direction. The bartender’s gaze followed.

I aimlessly reached for a bottle. With the cool neck of one clutched in my hand, I hightailed it to the far side of the room and waited for her. She said something else to the bartender before she turned away, throwing a small wave over her shoulder.

With a sloshing bottle under my arm and recounting laughter, Hannah and I made our great escape from the reception hall, only stopping after we’d cleared the doors and found our way to the path leading to the beach.

The early evening air cooled my overheated skin, but only briefly.

Standing in Hannah’s presence kicked my hormones into high gear, and there was no one about as a buffer. It was just her, me, and a bottle of… I hoisted it up to take a closer look and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Orange liqueur?” Hannah said, swiping the bottle from my hand and unscrewing the lid. She sniffed the contents, making the cutest, awful face I’d ever seen. Her nose scrunched and her lips puckered, making her look like an offended kitten.

“What?” I took the bottle back from her, glad she decided to go along with me. “It can’t be that bad.”

“You swiped a bottle of cooking liquor, genius.” She laughed as she drove a hand through her silken hair, ruffling it.

It was no wonder I did.

“It’s safe to say I’m not drinking that,” Hannah added, pointing at the bottle.

“After all the trouble I went through to get this, ye don’t mean to drink it?” I asked, giving her my best ‘I’m hurt’ look, even bringing my hand up to my heart for emphasis.

It didn’t faze her one bit. “Um, no. In fact, maybe I should just head back to the house and catch some zzz’s before my flight tomorrow. Mornings aren’t really my thing.”

She looked past me, her face pulling into a slightly confused pout. I wasn’t sure why, but I had the strangest urge to kiss her. To kiss that look away and put the smile she donned only moments ago back on her lips.

I sure as hell wasn’t ready to call it a night. Hell, the night was young. Well, it was for me anyway.

Without warning, I grabbed her by the shoulders, scooted her over to the bench, lightly pushed her down onto it, and said, “I have an idea. Wait here.”

“What the hell are you—?”

I darted off before she could finish asking.

Making my way back into the reception area, I skirted the room to the bar. Thankfully, it was dark enough that the bartender didn’t see me until I was standing right in front of him.

“What can I get ya?” he asked.

“Found this over there,” I said, lifting my finger over my shoulder as I placed the bottle on the counter in front of him.

The bartender took the bottle from me with an odd look on his face before putting it on the end of the table. He turned back, asking, “Any ting I can get ya?”

“I’ve no clue what she likes.” I thought for a second before adding, “I’m at a loss here, mate.”

“Dis fer de gurl I saw ya leave with earlier?” he asked, smirking. “The good-lookin’ one dat had all da jokes?”

I nodded. Good looking didn’t even begin to touch all of Hannah’s attributes.

“And you and dis gurl… you be walkin’ on da beach?” He raised his eyebrows.

I rubbed at the back of my neck. “Not sure. Maybe. I hope so,” I said, unable to keep the grin off my face as I thought about her in that dress.

And out of it.

“I got ya, man.” He turned to grab two cups, a handful of bottles, and set out to pour our drinks.

When he finished, he set the plastic cups on the bar and waved me off when I tried to pay him, making me feel even more like an arse for taking the bottle earlier. Beside him on the bar was a jar for tips. I stuffed a twenty in it and picked up the drinks.

“Thanks, mate. What d’ye call these in case she asks?”

His smirk turned into a full-blown smile. “Dat der is an Orgasm on de Beach.”

I held them out, looking at the small drinks in my hand. “Well, this should be interesting. Thanks.” I tipped my head at him.

“First one’s on me. Next one’s up ta you,” he called after me.

Thinking of giving Hannah an orgasm on the beach made me hotfoot it out of the reception room. The last thing I wanted was someone to stop me and chat it up while I carried two orgasms in my hands and an overexcited dick in my pants to boot.

I sighed in relief as I made it out the doors and into the cover of darkness.

“Over here,” Hannah’s sultry voice called out to me.

So much for staying put where I’d left her.

I swung ‘round and found her sitting on a bench under the cover of palm leaves further down the pathway. “Want to take a walk on the beach?” I couldn’t help myself. The bartender set the thought in motion and, whether Hannah and I ever slept together, we’d always have that one night on the beach where we’d both shared a liquid orgasm.

SIDE BY SIDE, WE STROLLED down the water’s edge, sipping our drinks. Hannah’s first reaction to it nearly did me in. She groaned, licked her lips, and then sighed.

Damn.

“So, Ed, what is it you do for a living?” she asked, stopping to face the water. The moonlight draped along her body, giving her skin a soft, milky glow.

“I work at a pub back home,” I answered, trying not to openly stare.

She busted out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, digging my toes into the cool sand, hoping it wasn’t because she caught me checking her out for the millionth time.

“You work at a bar and the best thing you could
nick
us was orange liqueur?” she sputtered. Her hand shot up, covering her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter.

“It was dark! Besides, I wasn’t paying much attention, now was I?” I bantered back, my eyes grazing over her form again.

It went unnoticed by her.

“You had one job, Ed! I was to be the distraction, and you were supposed to get us a bottle. What happened?” she asked, bringing the straw up to her lips and sucking.

Every last brain cell I had abandoned ship as I watched her lips purse around the straw. “What?” I choked out.

When her eyebrow quirked, I realized I hadn’t answered her.

“I was uh… distracted.”

The straw came away from her mouth. “Distracted? By what?”

Everything came back into focus, but it did nothing for the need banging away inside me like a thousand swinging hammers. “I had to make sure the bartender didn’t get any ideas, love. With the way you were propped against the bar, most men couldn’t have handled themselves. They would have drooled at the mouth and clawed to get a piece of ye like the dogs they are.”

She laughed. “Most men, huh?”

I nodded. “Yes. But, fortunately for ye, I’m not most men,” I answered, giving her a wink.

She rolled her eyes at me. “So, what are we drinking? It’s really good.”