When she asked him last night for a favor—put in an appearance at this gala her parents were hosting and by the way, it’s black tie—she had hoped he’d show in something decent. He hadn’t spotted her yet, but he was scanning the crowd, which gave her time to appreciate the spectacular form that was the man she had accidentally married.
Holy fucking wow.
He looked like he’d walked off a Paris runway. But there was also something indefinable about how he wore the threads, like he’d happily rip them off as soon as the director of this scene said “cut!”
Director Georgia would be happy to rip them off on his behalf.
He spotted her, and she remembered why she was in this mess. The world fell away. That night in Vegas, she had needed an escape from her life, from the version of herself that was forced to exist without Dani. Banks had done that for her. He’d given her that comfort.
But it wasn’t real.
As he headed toward her, she reminded herself: Not real.
As the crowds parted—because that’s what everyone did when Banks strode through like a god among mortals—she repeated the words. Not real.
And when he stood before her, those deep brown eyes locking in and finding new ways to incinerate her panties, she whispered to herself. Not real.
“Georgia.” Reality crashed through her like a soul-sucking wave.
“You came!”
There was a slight twitch of his lips at her innuendo-laden declaration.
“Sure did,” he murmured before leaning close to her ear. His lips brushed the sensitive lobe, his beard tickled her skin, and anyone watching would think he had kissed her. A husband greeting his wife. “Your wish, my command, right?”
That was different. He sounded almost … flirtatious. She turned to her parents who were looking on with interest.
“Mom, Dad, this is Dylan. Dylan Bankowski. Um, these are my parents, Penny and Marcus Goodwin.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin. It’s great to meet you.”
Her mom’s eyes lit up. “Likewise. Though we’re a bit surprised it took so long.”
“You’ve been out of town for months, Mom.”
“We were in Chicago in early February before we went to Gstaad and then again in March before Hawaii. Not that my daughter tells me anything.”
Before Georgia could defend herself, Banks jumped in.
“Yeah, that’s my fault. I wanted to keep it under wraps so I could spend some quality time with Georgia before the press got ahold of it. She was worried it would look weird, how it all happened so fast.”
This did not pass her mother’s sniff test. “But to keep it from her parents?”
“To be honest …” His hand circled Georgia’s waist and pulled her into the haven of his hard body. “What we did was a touch impulsive, and I wanted to give her time to back out if she had second thoughts.”
Georgia swallowed hard, shocked that the man beside her had come up with a coherent statement that plugged the holes better than anything she could have conjured.
Her mother narrowed her eyes. “That’s quite … mature of you, I suppose, especially given the strange start to your relationship. Vegas is rather clichéd, don’t you think?”
“Well, it’s not as if we met there for the first time.”
Three sets of Goodwin peepers fixed on Banks, who squeezed Georgia a little tighter and gave her a wry look.
“You didn’t tell them you’re neighbors with my teammate?”
“No, I didn’t.” Even think of it.
Banks smiled and it was like the clouds had parted to reveal the sun after a storm.