The Groom Wager (Wrong Way Weddings Book 1) Read online

  Tess broke the rack and sank a striped ball. He liked the way she leaned over the table and studied her options. She had a loose, casual style, but once she committed to a shot, she went for it like a pro.

  She impressed the hell out of him. This bet wasn’t the sure thing he’d expected.

  “Nice shot,” he said.

  In fact, it was too nice. Beating her was going to take some off-table strategy. He needed to knock her off-kilter.

  Not the least bit ashamed of himself, he came up behind her, and when she leaned over, he leaned with her, pressing his side against hers and taking hold of her wrist as she lined up her next shot. “Maybe if you straighten your wrist just a little...”

  “Cole Bailey.” She used her hip like a cannonball and knocked him away from the table. “I do not need lessons, and if you touch me again, all bets are off.”

  He held up both hands in a gesture of surrender, feeling like a jerk. He’d overplayed and overstepped her boundaries. “Understood.”

  He strolled to the other side of the table so he wouldn’t have to watch her fanny twitch when she lined up to take her shot. It occurred to him then that maybe she was trying to knock him off-kilter with that little wiggle.

  But then she missed.

  He cleared the table and won the first game handily. Fortunately, guilt didn’t blunt his skill. “That makes me one up,” he said cordially. “Want to concede now?”

  “The bet is two out of three. I’m always a slow starter.”

  “Nice stick,” he said.

  “Seventeen ounces. My dad gave it to me when our team won the league championship last winter.”

  “I’m impressed.” He actually was. He’d never played league pool, but he knew it attracted good players.

  He made a couple of mediocre shots. Damn it. He’d basically stolen the first game. When his third shot bounced an inch away from the hole, he was happy enough to relinquish the table to Tess. He hadn’t exactly thrown the game, but his sloppy playing gave him what he deserved—a loss.

  “Even up.” Her smile was slightly smug. “Now let’s see some real pool.”

  As the winner of the previous game, it was her turn to break the rack.

  Cole narrowed his eyes, concentrating on the balls and trying not to notice the way she filled out her tank top.

  He squeezed the pool cue until his knuckles ached. He didn’t want to win. He wanted out of this bet. He didn’t want to get married, especially not on his grandfather’s timetable.

  But he knew damn well his mother would be ousted as CEO if his grandfather sold his share of the stocks. Marsh did not make idle threats. Some young hotshot MBA would take Mom’s place.

  Cole gritted his teeth. He had to come through for his mother. He needed to get married, but he also had to make sure it was with the right woman. He believed that marriage was life.

  Balls moved on the bright-green table, but his gaze was unfocused. Cole forced himself to pay attention. He was in trouble. Two more shots, and she’d be the winner. He’d lose the game and the bet without getting another shot.

  Not that it would be the end of the world. Truthfully, he could hire a matchmaking service when push came to shove, but dang if part of him was hankering for an excuse to hang around Tess more often. He really liked her.

  “Oh, no.” She groaned, sounding genuinely distressed.

  She’d missed her shot. He’d been sure she was going to beat him, and it took a minute to realize he still had a chance.

  Don’t get cocky. He bit his lower lip. He could still blow it. Wiping first one palm then the other on the sides of his pants, he psyched himself up.

  “Number seven in the side pocket.” He called his shot as a courtesy even though it was obviously his only option. He aimed. Held his breath. Took his crack at it.

  The cue ball banged the seven ball in with a satisfying thud.

  “I knew you couldn’t miss that,” Tess murmured.

  As the shooter, he could still miss the next shot and lose the bet. He didn’t like the angle between the eight ball and the pocket. He’d made harder shots, but he’d missed easier…

  Biting down on the inside of his cheek, he went for it. The thud of the eight ball going down the hole was music to his ears.

  Triumphantly, he raised his arms over his head…and then he saw Tess’ face. She looked stunned.

  “I guess you’re the winner.” She put out her palm for a congratulatory handshake.

  He took her hand. It felt soft against his, and he didn’t feel particularly elated at beating her.

  “You shot a great game.”

  “Oh, sure, I lost two out of three, and I was trying hard to beat you,” she muttered.

  “You were?”

  She turned to pack up her cue, then swiveled back his way, a bleak expression on her face. “Getting a blind date for you seems ludicrous. I mean look at you.” She waved a hand over the length of him. “Tell me you were only kidding.”

  “Not kidding.”

  “You can’t find women on your own?”

  “Not nice ones like you.”

  She looked pleased at that. “Do you have a list?”

  “List?”

  “Shopping list, wish list, list of likes and dislikes.”

  “No, nothing like that.” He laughed self-consciously. “I just need someone who is serious about settling down. It wouldn’t hurt if she was pretty, but a good personality matters more.”

  “Everyone has some likes or dislikes. Give me a clue of what kind of person you have in mind.” She sounded grumpy.

  “Well, I’d rather she didn’t brush her teeth in public, but if she was the right person, it’s something we could work on, so no need to exclude a brusher out of turn.”

  “Be serious.”

  “I am. I went out with a girl—briefly—who had a teeth obsession. The minute she finished eating, out came the floss at the dinner table.”

  “Eww. None of my friends would be that gross.”

  “That’s why I need your help, and I completely trust your judgment.”

  Two women strolled up to their table. One, a platinum blonde, batted eyelashes at Cole so long and thick they were obviously extensions. “Are you through for the night?”

  “The table is all yours,” Tess said. “We were just leaving.”

  “How about a challenge match?” the other woman said to Cole, totally ignoring Tess.

  “Thanks, but I’m with her.” He slung an arm around Tess’ shoulder.

  She slipped away from him. “Stay if you want. I’ll call for a ride.”

  “Pool isn’t the only game we play.” The blonde was wearing a skirt so short it barely covered her bottom. She sidled up to Cole, took his arm, and rubbed her hip against his.

  “Sorry.” He shrugged. “I dance with the one who brought me.”

  “Too bad.” The blonde pouted. “If you get bored…” She took a Sharpie from her purse and before he realized what was going on, wrote her phone number across the back of his hand. “Call me.”

  “Have a nice game, ladies,” he muttered, took Tess’ arm, and escorted her out of the pub.

  “Well, that was fun,” Tess said when the door closed behind them. “Where were those two when they could’ve done my game some good?”

  “By distracting me? I don’t think so.” He didn’t tell her she was all the distraction he needed. “How about a bite to eat?” He was reluctant to let the evening end.

  “No, thanks. I’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

  “Coffee?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I’m free next Saturday,” he said, opening the passenger side door for her to climb into his pickup.

  “Free?” She turned in the seat to blink at him.

  “To meet someone. You know, a date to pay off your wager.” He shut the door and ran around to the driver’s side and got in.

  “I’m surprised those women back there didn’t interest you. Why didn’t
you stay?”

  Huh? “You think they were my type?”

  “No, I guess not, but in high school you did—”

  “That was ten years ago. Even the Bailey boys have to grow up eventually.” He wasn’t so sure about Zack, though. “What if you get me two dates for next weekend? One for Saturday and another on Sunday?”

  “How many friends do you expect me to serve up? I thought you meant just one person.”

  “What if I don’t like her? Gotta have options.”

  “We need perimeters. I can’t spend all my time trying to find you a wife just because I made a foolish bet.”

  “How about ten dates?”

  “Ten dates with the same one or ten different women?”

  “Ten different women.”

  “I don’t have ten single friends.”

  “Doesn’t have to be a friend. Could be someone you work with, someone from your church…”

  “It’s a big ask.”

  “How’s this? Even though I won the bet and you owe fair and square, I’ll be more than happy to give you a tour of the factory,” he offered, hoping to soften her. “For all your help.”

  “And a sneak preview of the new product line?”

  “Yes, a sneak preview. I’ve heard about a baby-wipe warmer that plays lullabies.”

  She folded her arms over her chest and pressed her lips together. Finally, she said, “Five dates.”

  “Nine.”

  She puffed out her cheeks. “Six.”

  “Eight.”

  “Seven.”

  He reached his right hand across the console. “Deal.”

  “I suppose anyone you’d go out with has to be drop-dead gorgeous,” Tess said, sealing the deal with a handshake.

  He caught her eying the phone number on the back of his hand, and he pulled it back to drop his hand into his lap. “Not conventionally pretty necessarily. I can appreciate an interesting face.”

  “Tall? Short? Blonde? Brunette?”

  “I meant it when I said personality is more important. I just want someone nice.”

  “Define nice.”

  “Be reasonable, Tess. It’s not about defining anything. I want the monogamous type. Is that nice enough for you?”

  “I’ve never really thought about it like that.”

  “I’m sure any friend of yours is a good person,” he assured her.

  “Except maybe Lucinda,” she mused. “That was the pinkest bridesmaid’s dress in the history of weddings.”

  He laughed. “But you did look cute in it despite the color.”

  “Get out of town.” She playfully slapped his thigh.

  Whoa.

  Her little gasp told him she’d acted on impulse and surprised herself. Who was he kidding? She’d surprised him too.

  3

  Tess glumly rearranged the display of Kozy Kountry bedding and accessories, not one of the best merchandising decisions she’d ever made. Tikes customers hadn’t snatched up the comforters quite the way she’d hoped, not surprising since the cow looked more comatose than cute.

  One thing she’d learned early on—it didn’t really matter that infants could see black and white better than pastels. The product had to appeal to grandparents and other gift givers. That meant adorable designs and clever gimmicks.

  She really wanted a jump on Bailey’s new line so she could stock the most promising items ahead of her competition. But she was having a hard time convincing herself it was worth finding dates for Cole.

  The big question was, who times seven?

  Even her friend Mandy, who was practically paranoid about blind dates, might be tempted to go out with Cole, but Tess had even less enthusiasm for matchmaking than she did for dopey- looking cows that weren’t selling.

  Her choice would have been zero, but as her sister, Karen, had pointed out when she talked it over with her on the phone, at least Tess would get to see Cole again herself.

  Did she want to stay in contact with him at any price? Her saner self said forget it, but she’d had such a wild crush on him in high school, and she didn’t want him to disappear again without giving her a chance to learn how wrong she’d been to idolize him.

  Face it, she’d been using him as a standard ever since high school, and no other man had ever quite measured up. It was time to get him out of her system for good. Certainly, this matchmaking scheme should do the trick.

  She slapped another “reduced price’ red sticker over a cow’s lolling tongue and thought about the way Cole had plagued her in high school.

  He’d been mischievous but so adorable, and she’d welcomed any attention from him, even his devilish teasing. She’d had a tremendous crush on him but had never deluded herself into believing they’d ever be a couple. Cole dated cheerleaders and prom queens who, if not exactly brainless, were definitely dedicated to having a good time.

  Imagine, Cole Bailey wanted her to find a woman for him. He had a pretty vague idea of what made a woman nice, though. Thank heavens she’d fully recovered from her girlish infatuation.

  Cole had walked away from the women in the bar, so that was plus. But she was still convinced boys like Cole grew up to be heartbreakers. Reformed or not, she wouldn’t suffer the pangs of unrequited love again.

  Sheesh! Already, he had her thinking like the heroine in a Victorian romance novel. So he was gorgeous, lean, hard-bodied, and darkly handsome. She could see men like that any day for the price of a movie ticket.

  The person she’d like to meet had to be sweet and reliable, a good companion for the long haul. She wasn’t a lovestruck adolescent easily impressed by a good-looking exterior.

  Oh, he’d be easy to fix up, but she didn’t want to set up her friends for a big disappointment.

  Cole might think he wanted a nice woman, but how may hearts would he break before he found the right one?

  Unfortunately, she’d lost the bet. Cole had distracted her in the first game—had he ever. But she’d blown the third and decisive one on her own.

  Much as she hated to admit it, her big sister had been right about one other thing. Not only did she owe Cole for losing an admittedly foolish bet on pool, but he’d gotten her out of an embarrassing situation at the wedding.

  Sighing, she shook off thoughts of Cole and directed her mind back to her work.

  Her assistant clerk, Heather, was showing car seats to a customer, so Tess stayed out front. She spotted a petite blonde woman flipping through a rack of infant outfits and hurried over.

  “Can I help you find anything today?” she asked.

  The woman looked up. “Tess Morgan! Is that you?”

  “Jillian Davis, hello.” Tess smiled.

  “Do you work here?”

  “I own the place.”

  “No kidding.”

  Tess beamed. “No kidding.”

  “Good for you!”

  “Can I help? What are you looking for?”

  Jillian clapped her hands. “I’m so excited. My sister is having twins, two girls if the doctor is right, and I need something special for her baby shower.”

  She knew Jillian from college when they’d been in a yoga class together. She was so good at it that Jillian could easily have been the instructor, except she ended up as a CPA in a prestigious firm.

  Back in the day, Jillian had volunteered for community causes and usually ended up as chairperson. Tess supposed she was still just as active in charity events. Quickly, she glanced at Jillian’s ring finger.

  Bare.

  “We have some darling stretch jammies for infants,” Tess suggested, guiding the way over to sleepwear.

  “No, let’s go with something more feminine, I think. By the way, I’ve decided to drop yoga.”

  “Really? But you’re so good at it.”

  Jillian gave a cursory glance at the outfits Tess pointed out. “I’m absolutely fascinated by kickboxing. Plus, there’s way more marriage-worthy guys in the kickboxing classes than at the yoga studio.”

  “Oh
?”

  “I’m so tired of kissing frogs.”

  Hmm. “How about quilts? I have a really good sale on them this week.”

  Jillian took a quick look at the cutesy cows and shook her head.

  Damn, thought Tess, all those attributes and good taste, too. Did the woman have any flaws?

  She looked up to offer another suggestion, then heard the bell over the door ding, and in walked Cole Bailey.

  Instantly, her heart fluttered.

  He had on jeans so worn she was afraid to look closely for fear she could see the color of his underwear. His ensemble included dusty tan work boots and a faded blue T-shirt with a Detroit Lions football logo.

  Jillian perked up so much she looked two inches taller and three shades blonder.

  “Hi, Tess,” Cole said offhandedly, eyeballing Jillian with slightly narrowed eyes. “Don’t let me interrupt with a customer.”

  “Oh, I’m a friend of Tess’, not a customer.” Jillian was quick with the smile. “We went to college together.”

  One yoga class. They had one yoga class together.

  “Nice to meet you.” Cole stuck out his hand.

  They both had good people-meeting skills—glad hands, big smiles, eye contact.

  “I’m Jillian Davis.”

  “Cole Bailey,” he said, still pressing her hand. “Any friend of Tess’ is a friend of mine.”

  “Actually, I’m a customer today, as well. I need two baby gifts because my sister is expecting twins.”

  “No kidding? I’m a twin myself.”

  “What a good omen. I’m sure to find perfect gifts here.”

  “Looks like Tess has anything you might want for babies. What’s this?” He picked up a Kozy Kountry crib sheet. “Cows. Cute.”

  “They are, aren’t they?” Jillian examined the display again. “Look at all the things that match it—a quilt, a bib, even a wall hanging. I couldn’t be more excited about twins if I were having them myself. Of course, I’m not married...not even involved with anyone right now.”

  “Hey, you’re in luck,” Cole said. “Tess only has a few quilts left, and they’re marked way down.”

  One word from Cole, and Jillian was grabbing up cows without even checking the prices.