Page 20 of Bedding The Best Man (Bedding the Bachelors)

But this wasn’t what he wanted, and he knew it wasn’t what she really wanted. She was still in love with Eric. He wanted all of her, not the broken remains of the girl his best buddy had left in a lurch. He had no intention of becoming some drunken experiment on her capacity for casual sex.

“C’mon, Gabe. Be a friend,” she begged, leaning toward him from across the table.

Reaching out, he brushed her hair off her face. “Trust me, Bri, I am being a friend. This is not the way to prove you’re not a fuck up. Just look at everything you’ve achieved. You’re smart, generous and your events are incredible. You’re the person people turn to if they have a problem. That doesn’t sound like a screw up to me, honey.”

His body was screaming for her, but through sheer force of will he didn’t realize he had, his brain was winning. “You need a friend right now much more than you need a fuck buddy. You would hate yourself in the morning.”

Bri’s bottom lip trembled.

He wanted to take her in his arms, to ease her sadness, but he didn’t trust himself.

She’s killing me, and she has no fucking clue.

Gabe knew he should get up and leave the club, putting Bri and her proposal and their whole messed up relationship behind him. Hell, he shouldn’t even have come down here at all. Every time he was near her, his heart did little flips and his hands got sweaty. Not to mention what happened to other parts of his body, especially when she was looking as sultry and luscious as she did now. With Bri, he had tried to apply an “out of sight, out of mind” policy, and usually it worked. But usually, she wasn’t begging him to sleep with her.

“Come on, babe,” he said, gathering his resolve and standing up. “I’m taking you home.” She looked up at him with big, luminous eyes, and he almost had a change of heart. He wanted her so badly. But he was going to do the right thing. He would have killed anyone who tried to take advantage of her while she was so vulnerable—he damned well wasn’t going to be the one who deserved a good ass kicking.

“Up,” he repeated, averting his eyes from her beautiful face. He held out his hand, and after what seemed like an eternity, she took it. Gabe pulled Brianne to her feet. “Let’s get you to bed. Alone.”

“Okay,” she snuffled. He placed his arm lightly around her shoulder and guided her out of the club.

Chapter Seven

“You’re going to do what?” Gabe asked Brianne as they sped out of downtown to her apartment in Silver Lake. She had sobered up enough that she wasn’t throwing herself at him, but he was relatively sure she was still plastered because she had just told him her newest event idea.

“Glamping. Haven’t you heard of it? It’s like camping for the Beverly Hills set, isn’t it?” She sat demurely next to him in the passenger seat, her hands folded in her lap. She suddenly looked unsure that she was talking about the right thing.

“Yeah, that’s what it’s called, and that’s what it is, but you’re going to do it? For a contest?” he asked, incredulous. He checked in the rear view mirror of his convertible as he switched lanes on the Ventura Freeway to get off on the 2.

“Don’t sound so shocked,” she said, with a scoff that turned into something of a drunken snort, telling him she wasn’t as together as she was trying to make out after all.

He rolled his eyes with a smile. “Bri, you thought you had measles when a mosquito bit you. That’s not outdoorsman—or rather, outdoorswoman-like behavior. You’re just not a nature girl.”

“I could be!” she protested, then sighed. Her head lolled back onto the rest, and she grinned at him. “Crap. You’re right. I know you’re right. Do you think you could help me?”

Bri never ceased to amaze him. Sometimes she was all patrician, upper-class elegance, and then she was girlish and full of uncertainty. He pursed his lips.I walked right into that one.

He knew he should avoid spending time with her, knew that being around her did nothing good for his sanity, but he also knew how vulnerable she was at the moment, and how important her career and reputation were to her. She thought of herself as a screw-up when it came to relationships, and he certainly wasn’t going to let her start thinking she was a screw-up at work, too. Bottom line, they were friends, and he’d always be available to help her out.

“Yeah, of course I’ll help you, but I think before you get too wrapped up in all your plans, it might be a good idea to do a trial run. If you want, I can take you out for a night.”

Spending even a single night alone in a tent with Bri would be torture for him. But he didn’t want her investing a whole lot of time and effort into something only to find it was a big no-go because she couldn’t deliver on it.

“Um…sure. I think a trial run is a great idea,” she said quickly. “I can’t arrange for my guests to do something I have no experience with.” She began to rattle off some nonsensical thoughts on how they should have color-coordinated marshmallow roasters. Gabe tuned out, and focused on the road. He let her talk, nodding and making assenting noises when she paused. Eventually, her words got slower and quieter. Sure enough, by the time they got off the main road and headed into the neighborhood of Silver Lake, she was snoring quietly.

As he made the twists and turns through the streets in her neighborhood and found her apartment building, he thought about the woman asleep beside him. How long he had known her, and how quickly he had come to care for her. And not in a platonic, you’re-my-best-friend’s-girl kind of way. Even now—her head lolling around, with gentle, snuffling little drunken snores occasionally escaping her lips—she was the most stunning, most wonderful woman he had ever known.

Gabe pulled up to the curb outside her Spanish-style building and killed the engine. He let himself look at her for a long moment, taking in her creamy complexion, her full lips, her thick hair. Hell, even her earlobes looked beautiful as he studied her in the meager light from the streetlamp outside. Pulling himself together, Gabe got out of the driver’s side and walked around the front of his car. He popped the passenger side door open and if Bri hadn’t been buckled in, she would have practically oozed out on to the sidewalk.

“Okay, come on, honey, let’s get you to bed,” he said, reaching over to release the seat belt. His forearm, naked from the t-shirt he was wearing, brushed against her soft curves and her silky skin, and he had to concentrate hard to not get distracted as a fiery bolt went zinging through him. She started to stir. “Atta girl,” he crooned, “let’s go inside.”

Bri muttered something that sounded like “maternity,” and Gabe looked at her sharply. But then he realized she was holding out her key ring. He took the keys from her and helped her stand. She leaned against him heavily as they walked up the cobblestones to the central courtyard of the building, and then stopped at the second apartment on the left.

Holding Bri up with one arm, Gabe managed to get the key in the lock and swing the door open. He flipped the light switch next to the door on the wall, and herded her inside. She tossed her purse toward an easy chair and missed by a mile. Gabe nudged the door closed behind them and looked around her apartment. He had been with Eric when they had dropped her off on several occasions, but he’d never actually been inside. It had struck him as odd, more than once, that even after six years, even after getting engaged, Brianne and Eric had never moved in together. Hell, it had struck him as odd that Eric had waited almost five years to propose to her. According to his friend, neither had wanted to rush things, and both had been happy in their own space and content with frequent sleepovers. If it had been Gabe? He’d have wanted Bri in his bed every night. Within arms reach as much as possible.

Yet not once had he questioned whether something could be wrong with Eric and Brianne’s relationship. He’d just taken it as a given that they were meant for one other, when maybe there had been clues that they hadn’t been.

When he stepped into Brianne’s apartment, it was with his belly tight, in anticipation of discovering another, more private side of her. How she lived. Where she spent her time alone. In bed and out.

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