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

  He slid both hands behind her head, his fingers stabbing into her French twist.

  “Are you ready?” he murmured.

  What a silly thing to ask, she dreamily mused. She’d been ready for him forever.

  “Do you want this?”

  Mutely, she nodded. More than anything in the whole wide world.

  Her mouth tingled as he gently touched her with his lips. She didn’t know how long she could stand his leisurely teasing, but she wrapped her arms around him to steady herself.

  Oh…my.

  His tongue slid between her teeth as he kissed her so thoroughly that her ears rang. He kissed her again, drawing her into the best kiss of her whole life.

  Finally, he broke their connection, leaving her panting and breathless. “Tess, I have to tell you something.”

  “Yes?

  “I’m dizzy.”

  She felt the same way.

  “Champagne does not agree with me.”

  “Time for you to go home,” she sighed, returning to earth. She tried to slip free of his arms, but he wasn’t having it. “The driver is waiting.”

  “I really need to lie down right now. Could I just stretch out on your couch for a few minutes?”

  “Cole, you have to go home. Now.”

  “My knees are about to buckle,” he mumbled.

  “Cole Bailey, this isn’t the way to behave on a first date—not that this is a date.”

  “I’m not kidding, Tess.”

  He did look really ill. Was it honestly the champagne, or was something more wrong with him? She could feel his long, lean length buckling. If he went down, she’d never be able to get him on his feet again.

  She waved at the limo driver, who was still standing dutifully by the open car door. “You can go,” she called, waving him to leave.

  The driver gave her a salute, got in, and drove away.

  Cole didn’t have any trouble steadying himself enough to take her key out of her hand and open the door.

  “You asked for the couch. You get it.”

  “Tess...” he murmured and then pitched face-first onto her couch.

  Looking at him buried in the cushions, she shook her head. This wasn’t the way fairy tales were supposed to end.

  7

  “Good morning party animal.”

  Cole looked up through a haze of a throbbing headache and tried unsuccessfully to straighten his legs. He was wearing so many clothes he felt like a mummy.

  “Was my couch comfy?” Tess beamed at him.

  His starched shirt was a wrinkled mess, but it still scratched his neck. He couldn’t remember what he’d done with the studs that held it shut, but the suspenders were hanging down like stirrups on a horse. His modesty was intact, but he couldn’t say the same for his dignity.

  To make matters worse, Tess looked even more kissable in the morning than she had as belle of the ball. He was a pushover for the reddish-brown hair that bounced on the shoulders of her little pink blouse.

  “What can I get for you? Coffee, juice, aspirin?”

  “All of them, please. I haven’t felt like this since I was a sophomore at Michigan State.” He pressed the sides of his head, and sparks bounced in front of his eyeballs. “I think I’m allergic to champagne.”

  “One sip and you break out in a hangover?” She sounded so perky and brisk, he wanted to groan.

  “Are you tormenting me just for fun?” He sat up and inched his feet to the floor. He didn’t know which looked sillier, the bare toes on his right foot or the black silk sock at half-mast on the left.

  “I’m sorry.” She didn’t sound the least bit sorry. “It may help if you massage your temples right here.” She demonstrated on herself. “If you have a headache, that is.”

  “Have you ever had a hangover without one?”

  “Well, actually...” She shrugged, and he had her number. She was trying to pretend that having a man on her couch in the morning was no big deal. “I’ve never had a hangover.”

  “Really?” He studied her through eyes narrowed to dim the sunlight pouring through the window. “Wow, you really are a nice girl.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m just not much of a drinker. I’ll make coffee,” she said, disappearing into her kitchen. “There’s aspirin in the bathroom cabinet.”

  He found his other rumpled sock and pulled it on, then yanked up the suspenders. In the bathroom he splashed cold water on his face until he felt waterlogged, but he couldn’t wash away his guilt. He’d drank too much and made an ass of himself. Tess deserved far better than such frat boy behavior from him.

  And he’d kissed her when he shouldn’t have.

  He owed her a big apology, and he deserved the jackhammer that was assaulting his brain. He found the aspirin and chugged down four. It had been years since he’d gotten drunk—since college actually—and his shame ran deep.

  Here was the truth. He wasn’t good enough for someone like Tess. She was a nice girl, but he wasn’t a particularly nice boy.

  The smell of coffee soothed him as he padded into the kitchen. He drank a huge glass of orange juice, then sipped coffee at her table while she scrambled eggs and made avocado toast.

  “Thanks,” he murmured.

  “For the coffee? You’re welcome.”

  “For taking care of me last night. I misbehaved, and I don’t deserve your kindness. I just want you to know I’m sorry, and I don’t usually act like that. My grandfather tends to bring out the worst in me and…”

  “Yes?” She glanced at him from where she stood at the stove.

  He gulped back another swallow of coffee. He almost told her about Marsh railroading him and Zack into marriage. “But that’s an excuse. I’m not going to lay the blame on my grandfather. I’m owning my own unflattering actions. I’ve been thoughtless. Not just last night, but about this whole bet thing.”

  She looked surprised at his apology, and okay, granted, apologizing was not easy for him, but she hadn’t deserved the way he’d treated her, and if there was ever a situation for groveling, this was it.

  “Can you forgive me?” he asked, looking at her precious face and knowing he’d walk barefooted over hot coals to maintain their friendship. Whatever it took to keep her in his corner, he’d do it.

  “Here,” she said, depositing a plate of eggs and toast in front of him. “Eat.”

  He wasn’t hungry, but she’d gone to so much trouble, he ate every last bite, and when he’d finished, he felt a whole lot better. “You’re a great cook.”

  “Don’t overexaggerate. It’s just eggs.”

  “Seasoned very well.”

  “The color is back in your cheeks,” she said. “If you’re feeling better, I’ll give you a ride back downtown. Every Sunday, my sisters and I and their families have lunch with our folks. I could show up early and go to church with my parents. Mom will love that.”

  Wow, what would it be like to have a family that was so close? He felt a little lonely for no good reason. He had a great life. So what if his family wasn’t tight-knit. He had Zack after all.

  “Let me grab my keys,” she said and disappeared.

  On the way downtown, Cole ran out of small talk with Tess. With her, he didn’t want to talk about trivial things like the weather or football or the latest viral meme on social media. He had a strange, uncharacteristic urge to dig deep. He wanted to know about her hopes and dreams. Her long-held beliefs, her values and vulnerabilities.

  Yikes!

  Where was all this coming from?

  Where? How about that world-rocking kiss they’d shared on her doorstep last night? Cole ran a hand over his mouth and sent her a sidelong glance as she pulled up into the parking garage where he’d left Zack’s vintage Mustang.

  And just as they got there, his twin pulled up in Cole’s bright-red pickup, a scowl etched on his face.

  “What are you doing here?” Cole asked as he got out of Tess’ little sedan.

  “When I woke up this morning and realize
d you didn’t bring Maybelline home last night—Zack paused to pet the fender of the Mustang as if it were a favorite dog—“I accessed the GPS tracker.”

  “Yoo-hoo, Cole. You forgot your bow tie.” Tess hopped out of her car, waving the little strangler like a trophy.

  He backtracked and grabbed the tie from her with a hurried thanks.

  “That’s Tess Morgan?” Zack asked as Tess jumped back into her car and drove away.

  Cole nodded.

  “Little Tess from high school?” Zack asked as he tossed Cole his truck keys. “You spent the night with her? Wow.”

  “I spent the night on her couch. No wow.”

  “Too bad. She grew up to be fine.”

  “Eyes back in your head, brother. She’s not your type at all. She’s a nice girl.”

  “That was no girl.” Zack let out a long low whistle. “She’s all woman, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “I noticed,” Cole grumbled, hating that Zack had noticed too.

  “You aren’t dating her?”

  “She’s just a friend.”

  Zack rubbed his palms together. “If you’re not dating her, do you mind if I—”

  “No!”

  “No, you don’t mind, or no, you don’t want me to date her.”

  “She’s too nice for the likes of you. Stay away from her.”

  “Ahh, so you do like her.” Zack’s eyes gleamed with mischief.

  “I like her, but not like that.”

  “Woman hog.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t want her, but you don’t want anyone else to have her either? That’s messed up, man.”

  “Here,” Cole said, throwing his keys to Zack. “Take your car and go.”

  Zack’s smirk widened. “Tess and Cole sitting in a tree—”

  With his twin’s hooting laughter ringing in his ears, Cole climbed into his pickup and slammed the door.

  Zack could be damned annoying sometimes.

  On Monday evening, then again on Tuesday and Wednesday, Tess tried to contact Cole. He didn’t return any of her texts. Was he angry about the Bailey reception or uncomfortable because they’d gotten a little too close for comfort on Saturday night? Maybe he was just ashamed of his behavior. Either way, she was steamed. How was she supposed to let him know about the date she’d lined up for him if he didn’t call or text her back?

  This time she’d done her level best to find the right woman for Cole. Melissa Van Cortland was Lucinda’s cousin, not exactly a friend, but a sweet woman who did a lot of volunteer work. She certainly was very pretty—dark-haired, tall and willowy, and busty. She also ticked the top three boxes on Cole’s list—outgoing, friendly, and athletic.

  Melissa won a few amateur golf tournaments, had a master’s degree in biology, and taught at a local commuter college. Lucinda seemed a little jealous of her, which might be another plus.

  Tess hated to cancel the date with Melissa after making Cole sound like a cross between a superhero and a cuddly puppy. She wasn’t going to let him get away with ghosting her. She had a very good reason for wanting this date to happen, and she knew where to find him.

  She left the store hoping to get back in an hour or so, but the construction site was farther west than she’d expected. When Tess got there, she liked what she saw. Venerable old trees had been left in place along the curved white concrete drive circling to a row of condominiums with spacious second-floor balconies. A play area with swings, slides, and a climbing gym awaited children. The buff brick complex was so appealing, she had to remind herself she wasn’t here to house-hunt.

  She found him in the third unit, down on his knees installing handles on kitchen cupboards. His dusty jeans were riding so low on his lean hips she could almost see the elastic of his underwear. He was shirtless, the skin on his back bronzed and glistening with sweat.

  She watched for a minute, savoring the sight.

  “What do you need?” he asked without looking around.

  “You.”

  He startled and swung his head around. “Oh, I thought you were Zack.”

  “Not Zack.” She folded her arms over her chest.

  He stood, hooked his thumbs in his side belt loops, and hitched up his jeans. The smile he gave her was impish. “Yeah, I always could tell you two apart.”

  She’d driven all this way to read him the riot act, but his rippling muscles and adorable little belly button made her flush self-consciously.

  “You’re nothing like Zack,” he murmured.

  “Nice development,” she said, looking around as an excuse not to ogle him. “I love the condos curved fronts and big windows.”

  “Thanks.” He ran a hand through his mussed hair to tame it.

  “Did you get my texts?”

  “All eight of them.”

  “And you didn’t answer me?”

  “I didn’t mean to ghost you,” he said, his eyes so apologetic she forgave him instantly. “I needed time to think.”

  “You could have texted me that.”

  “I thought we agreed you didn’t have to find me any more dates.”

  “No,” she said. “You let me off the hook, but I don’t welch on a bet, no matter how ill-advised the bet might be.”

  “I was wrong to ever ask this of you. I didn’t answer your texts because I was hoping…” He paused and had such an odd look on his face, it confused her.

  “Hoping?”

  He waved a hand. “Nothing.”

  “No, you don’t get to do that. What were you going to say?” Her ridiculous hopes soared for no good reason.

  He shrugged and dropped his gaze, and she just knew he wasn’t really saying what was on his mind. “Blind dates aren’t really my thing.”

  “They were your idea.”

  “I know, but it was a mistake.”

  “This time I’ve done it right, Cole. Her name is Melissa Van Cortland. She’s beautiful, smart, and funny. She wins golf tournaments—I remembered the outdoor requirement on your list. She just graduated with a master’s degree in biology.”

  “I dunno.” He shook his head.

  “Do you want to settle down or not?”

  He made a face. “I guess.”

  “If you don’t want to get married, why are you doing this?”

  “I don’t want to marry just anyone. I want it to be right.”

  “Well, that’s what we’re working on, right? With that in mind, I’m texting you Melissa’s contact info.” She whipped out her phone.

  “Okay,” he said mildly. “I’ll go, but I have to get back to work now.”

  “Yes, yes,” she said, irritated that he was giving her the brush-off. “So do I.”

  He took her arm and helped her over a pile of lumber, steering her toward the open door where she’d come in. He followed her outside and started herding her toward her car, or at least that’s how it felt.

  “There’s another reason I didn’t call you.” Cole sounded sheepish. Something was wrong here.

  “Besides being inconsiderate?”

  “I really am sorry about the way I behaved—you know, last Saturday. I was out of line.”

  “You already apologized for passing out on my couch.”

  “Not that,” he said. “The other thing.”

  “What other thing?”

  “You know.”

  “Kissing me?”

  “Yeah.” He ducked his head and jammed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “That other thing.”

  “You’re sorry about kissing me?” Ouch. That hurt, but she was determined not to let him know. “Was I that bad of a kisser?”

  “No, it was terrific. You were terrific. In fact, maybe I enjoyed it a little too much.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I was afraid…” He paused.

  “Afraid of what?”

  “You might read something into it that I didn’t intend.”

  Ouch, ouch, ouch.

  “I know it didn’t me
an anything. I know you’d had too much to drink. I haven’t been pining for you and doodling Mrs. Cole Bailey in my diary.” The way she had when she was fifteen.

  “Oh, good, that’s a relief,” he said, but he didn’t sound relieved.

  “You must think I’m a porcelain doll that’s never been out of the box. It wasn’t my first kiss, Cole.”

  “I never thought it was.”

  “I’ve been kissed thousands of times, millions, zillions. A kiss doesn’t mean anything.”

  “All rightee then, I get it. My kiss was no big deal.”

  Well, she wouldn’t go that far. She thumbed the keyboard on her phone. “Besides Melissa’s name and number, I am also texting you the name of the restaurant where I made reservations and the time that we’re meeting you—”

  “You’re picking up my date?”

  “No, of course not. You are. Her address is on the paper.”

  “A list?” He frowned and reached for it.

  “No, just the information. We’ll meet you there at seven.”

  “We?”

  “We’re double-dating.”

  “You’re chaperoning?” He opened the car door but blocked her way.

  “Yes, I thought if I came along, I could see where you’re going wrong.” She bit her bottom lip.

  He gave her a sidelong glance. “Okay, I’ll pick up my date and meet you. Hey, why don’t I pick everyone up?”

  “Zack thought it would save time if we all meet at the restaurant. I could only get an early reservation.”

  “Zack?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not my brother?” Cole looked alarmed.

  “He called me, unlike his twin, for whom I have gone to great trouble to arrange a meeting with a lovely woman, and asked me out.”

  “What is going on here, Tess?”

  “Zack asked me out. I said yes.”

  “Why drag him on a double date with us?”

  “We won’t cramp your style, I promise. If you’re upset, forget the double date.”

  “No, no.” Was it her imagination or did sweat just pop out on his brow. “It’s fine, just fine. I’ll see you Friday evening.”

  He stalked away without a goodbye.

  “Have a nice day,” she called after him in a tone usually reserved for customers who used her merchandise then returned it.