The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy) (23 page)

No, her plan sucked. That was a fact.

“Is that jacket leather?” he asked her. His
gaze slid down her body and admired her thick boots. Sensible
woman.

“Yeah, why?”

“Good for the bike.”

She shook her head. “Nice try.” She turned to
look up the highway. “I’m going with them.”

“I don’t think they’ll want your
company.”

She snorted. “Too bad.”

“I’ve got an extra helmet.”

“Your skull is so thick I’m surprised you’d
need one at all,” she said.

Fawn’s dopey smile fell, and for the first
time since getting off the phone, she turned her full attention to
Lucy, then to Miles. “What’s going on between you two?”

“Not enough,” Miles said roughly.

“He wants to have sex with me. As if that’s
going to work.” Lucy waved her hand up and down in his direction.
“Look at him. It’d be like a poodle with King Kong.”

While Fawn laughed into her hand, Miles
smiled and pretended that shot hadn’t hit home. “More like a Great
Dane, baby,” he said through gritted teeth, grabbing the handlebars
of his bike.

“There he is!” Fawn cried, just as Huntley’s
Porsche pulled into the tiny pot-holed parking lot.

“Tone it down,” Lucy said, putting a hand on
Fawn’s arm. “Give him a chance to grovel. You want to see some
major sucking up.”

Still annoyed, Miles watched Huntley pop out
of the slate blue sports car and run over to his fiancée. While
Lucy held on to her arm, Fawn stayed where she was, silent, not
rushing to meet him though her face was bright with love and
relief.

To his credit, Huntley fell to his knees in
the broken asphalt and clutched her hand. “Forgive me,” he said,
pressing his lips to her knuckles.

Lucy glanced over at Miles who, having just
done the same to her, was also watching the gesture with more lust
than the scene justified. She looked at him and their eyes met and
held. Her tongue darted out, moistened her lips.

She
so
wanted him.

Instead of throwing his leg over the seat and
taking off as he’d planned, he gave the bike a pat and waited,
watching her.

“Lucy!”

She looked away from Miles to the other man’s
voice.

No fucking way.

Jogging out from the other side of the
Porsche was Mr. Marriage Material. Looking slick and dependable in
a white button-down shirt, khakis, and loafers, Alex gave everyone
a little wave before coming up to Lucy’s side.

No. Fucking. Way.

Throwing a scrawny little arm over Lucy’s
shoulders, Alex regarded Huntley with an incredulous smile. “You’re
ruining your trousers.”

Trousers?
He sounded like a
grandmother.

“What are you doing here?” Lucy asked.

“Huntley can’t let his bride escape, can he?
Come on, man. She gets the point,” Alex said, using his free hand
to pull Huntley up from the ground.

Huntley didn’t take his eyes off Fawn, and
though he got off the ground, he didn’t stand up all the way. Head
low, he nuzzled Fawn’s neck, hooked an arm around her waist, and
pulled her away from the others to the shelter of the arbor where
Miles had had such great luck.

What the hell was Huntley doing, bringing
Alex after making such a big deal about having Miles on the road
searching, even though he seemed to have realized Miles had a thing
for Lucy—

Miles shifted his gaze from Alex’s scrawny
arm to the Porsche. The 911. Not the limo.

He sought out Huntley in the shadows of the
B&B, not surprised to see Fawn’s legs wrapped around his waist
and her tongue down his throat.

Suddenly feeling magnanimous, Miles smiled
and walked over to join Alex and Lucy. Sure, Huntley should have
groveled more, but the guy had charm. Forethought.

And a very, very small car.

“Guess you’ll have to come with me, Lucy,”
Miles said, watching the way Alex pulled her more tightly up
against his side.

She made a rude noise. “You wish.” Without
seeming to care how it unhinged Alex’s arm from her shoulder, she
spun sideways and pointed at the Porsche. “I’m going in that.”

Miles shook his head. “Don’t think that’s
going to be possible. Didn’t Fawn bring all of her bags with her?
Her suitcases?”

Her eyes widened, darted back to the car,
then to Alex.

“There’s room for two in the back.” Alex
lifted his hand as though he was going to put it back on her
shoulder, but Lucy was already marching across the lot to peer into
the back seat.

He bit back a grin. Alex was catching on. He
frowned into the darkness, where Huntley and Fawn were still going
at it.

“I’ll get Fawn’s bags,” Miles said
cheerfully. “She said they’re at the front desk. Lots of them.”

Alex wasn’t stupid. He snapped his jaw shut
and eyed Miles. “She’d need a helmet.”

“I always carry a spare.” Miles strode around
him, past the necking lovebirds and into the front office of the
B&B. He smiled down at the huge pile of suitcases.

Fawn came up behind him, her hair in a tangle
around her face. She talked to the lady at the front desk for a
minute while Huntley joined them.

His face was smeared with lipstick. With a
grin to Miles, Huntley said, “Alex insisted on coming, so I had to
improvise.”

“I appreciate that,” Miles said quietly.

“Quid pro quo, my friend.”

Fawn came over from the front desk and hooked
a hand around Huntley’s waist. They all stared at the pile of bags
at their feet.

“I kind of brought a lot,” Fawn said.

Miles bent over and lifted the two largest
bags. “No problem. Really. Very understandable, given your
profession.”

“Absolutely,” Huntley added. “We wouldn’t
think of leaving a single thing behind. Not even for the
night.”

Fawn ran her hand through her hair, looking
amused at their enthusiasm to haul all of her suitcases out to the
Porsche. She slung a garment bag over her shoulder and let them
carry the rest, a lopsided smile on her face.

Halfway out to the car, his arms laden with
the suitcases, Miles asked Huntley, “What did you say to make it up
to her?”

Huntley glanced back at Fawn. “That I loved
her. That I’d stand up to my parents. How sorry I was.”

“That’s it?”

“What else was I supposed to say?”

Miles dropped the suitcases near the trunk
and went back for more just as Fawn caught up to Huntley and
pressed him against the car for another kiss.

There were at least six suitcases, each with
wheels and handles that took up extra room. Miles lugged them out
to the car, wondering if Lucy would be sober enough to get on the
bike or if he should make his move here.

“I’ll go on the bike with you,” Alex said,
putting a firm hand his shoulder. “Lucy can go in the car.”

Miles nudged Huntley and Fawn, still in each
other’s arms, away from the car bumper. “Pop the trunk, Huntley the
Third?”

Without taking his mouth off of Fawn’s,
Huntley reached into his pocket. The trunk popped open and Miles
got to work filling it up.

“Nope, definitely not enough room for all the
bags. Some will just have to go in the back seat.” Miles went
around and shoved the biggest suitcase behind the driver’s seat so
Alex would have to sit behind leggy Fawn—who would obviously need
to have her seat pushed all the way back, being so tall and
everything.

“Come on over, Lucy,” Alex called out, waving
wildly. “I’ll go on the motorcycle.”

Miles couldn’t see Lucy clearly enough in the
darkness to read her face but she wasn’t rushing over.

If she wanted Alex, she wouldn’t stay as far
away from him as possible, right? She wouldn’t be fighting the urge
to grab Miles’s butt?

Which he’d enjoyed quite a bit.

“What’s her problem?” Alex muttered, frowning
across the car at her.

“You’ll have to go in the car,” Miles said.
“I don’t take anyone on the bike without proper gear.”

“Lucy doesn’t have—”

“She has the boots and the jacket. No armored
pants, but it beats an oxford shirt and penny loafers.”

Alex looked down at his feet then up at
Miles, his jaw set. “I’ll take full responsibility.”

“My bike, my rules.”

“I know what you’re trying to do. Give it
up.”

Miles glanced over at Lucy, who was finally
walking slowly toward them, carefully avoiding the potholes
underfoot, her arms stretched out to either side for balance.

She was a cute drunk, but he’d have to sober
her up a little before he got her on the bike.

His body tightened. There were empty rooms
inside. A bed now, breakfast in the morning, and all the hours in
between.

“Break it up, you two,” Lucy said to Fawn and
Huntley, who were still making out on the other side of the car.
“Huntley has to get back to the spa and tell his parents to fuck
off.” She poked Huntley in the ribs.

Huntley squealed and jerked away from Fawn.
“Hey!” He seemed to be only vaguely aware of the rest of them
standing there.

“Right?” Lucy demanded.

Huntley sighed, gazed into Fawn’s eyes. “I’ll
talk to them.”

“Let’s get going,” Alex said. “Lucy, we’ve
pushed the suitcases to one side so you’ll be pretty comfortable.
It’s only a few miles, really.”

Eyes on Lucy, Miles stepped forward and
rested an elbow on the car, completely blocking the entrance with
his generous figure. She met his gaze and held it a long
moment.

He thought about mentioning the safety issue
again, how Alex was wearing flimsy clothes and shoes, definitely
putting all that marriage material in jeopardy—but he wanted her to
choose. Right now, in front of both of them.

She turned to Alex. “You’ll freeze to death.
Go on, I’ll go on the bike. It’s not far.”

Miles silently let out the breath he was
holding and found it was difficult to suck in another one.

“It’s hardly safe for you to get on a
motorcycle when you’ve been drinking,” Alex said.

She raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be the judge of
that.” She walked away from the car, arms extended to either side
again, weaving through the potholes toward the bike.

Flinching, Alex watched her go. He turned on
Miles, eyes narrowed, his lips pressed in a flat line. “At least
get her a cup of coffee first.” He climbed into the back seat.

Smiling, Fawn got in the front.

Huntley gave him a cheerful thumbs-up over
the top of the car. “Have fun, Jolly.”

* * *

Lucy’s head was spinning. The hard, cold wind
off the shore wasn’t enough to clear her mind. She leaned back
against the railing that divided the parking lot from the gentle
slope down to the beach and stared at the way Miles’s jeans hugged
his thighs. Her whole body was hot, tense, ready for more of what
they’d started.

She couldn’t sleep with him, but she could
look.

The Porsche roared out of the lot, spitting
gravel. She sighed. That wasn’t cool how she’d sent Alex away—not
because she’d stayed, but because she hadn’t been candid with him.
He was just so irritating. Aggressive, anal-retentive,
goal-oriented.

She was aware of her hypocrisy.

“I’m too much like him,” she told Miles. He
was only three feet away, eyes dark, moving closer. She ignored the
sexual tension crackling between them. “Maybe it could work if I
were different.”

“Of course it could work if you were
different.” He stepped close to her, almost touching, leaned next
to her against the railing. “A different woman.”

“I could change,” she said softly.

“For what? For him?”

“For me.”

He bent closer. His lips were so close she
could feel his breath. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“I want a husband.”

His hand slid around the small of her back,
pulling her hips up against his. “I don’t,” he said, and his mouth
came down hard on hers.

Lucy froze, stunned by the fierceness of his
kiss. Unlike before, he wasn’t teasing, sweet, passive, cute. His
tongue swept into her mouth, tangled with hers, demanded she
respond. His large hands, so gentle before, grabbed her ass and
lifted her up to grind against him, hard and hungry.

She was too shocked to kiss him back or worry
about pushing herself on him or think about the future. Her heart
pounded in her chest, her nipples hardened, her legs went weak.
While her mind froze, at war with itself, her body sparked to
life.

His hand slipped down between the cheeks of
her ass and lifted her higher. She realized he was stroking her
between her legs from behind, urging her thighs apart.

Right there in the parking lot, the noisy bar
only twenty feet away, Lucy gave up the fight. She hugged his neck
and let him lift her higher. Straddling his hips, she wriggled
close and hooked her ankles behind his back.

He groaned into her mouth. His hands were too
busy holding her up to explore her face, so she took over the kiss,
tunneling her fingers through his hair and controlling the angle of
their mouths.

It was hard and fast and crazed. She could
feel him thrusting the erection under his jeans into her crotch.
Two layers of denim between them, a maddening obstruction.

She slipped one hand down his hard chest,
down his stomach between their bodies. His jacket was in the way,
the thick leather bunched under her breasts. She shoved it aside to
reach his belt.

Miles leaned back on the railing and she slid
down his body to stand tiptoe on the ground, her attention now on
the damn buckle. She had to break the kiss, her breathing fast and
uneven, to see what she was doing.

The bulge below was too much to resist. Hard,
warm, big under her palm, she stroked him—

“Wait,” he gasped. “Oh, God.” He put his hand
over hers and pressed down. She felt him jump under her fingers as
they explored the shape and length of him.