Page 36 of The Wedding Deal
It was the nerdiest fucking thing he’d ever said, but he stood by it. Considering the resulting smile, he should say nerdy things more often.
“Are you calling me a hobbit?” she asked.
“If the shoe fits—”
“Okay, that’s too far. I might be short, but I do not have big hairy feet.”
The hot pink shoes on her tiny feet snagged his attention. The opening across the toe gave him a peek at toenails that were the same bright color. “Fair point.”
She reached out and curled her hand around his elbow. “Thank you. That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.”
Her touch sent scoring lines up his arm and straight into the center of his chest. He might’ve stood like that forever if his brother didn’t poke his head into the room and shout that if he didn’t get his ass in gear, he was so going to tell Mom on him.
He might call him a juvenile jackass if he weren’t practically skipping toward the door, counting down the hours until he’d be back in the room with Charlotte again.
Chapter Thirteen
The words on the page blurred together, and Charlotte took off her glasses, blinked, then put them on and lifted the résumé closer. It was only four thirty p.m., and her eyes couldn’t crap out on her already. She and Lance still had a lot of pressing items to discuss as soon as he got back from the photo shoot he’d left for about an hour and a half ago.
Her inbox chimed, and she lifted her phone. The pilot had emailed her an itinerary as she’d requested, and she copied it into a blank email and added a short personal note to it before sending it on to Sean Bryant.
From there she went into the calendar she’d set up for her and Lance and added the meeting with him, along with a couple of alerts. It made her a little sad to think of being in the office by Monday, yet she also needed it to come faster.
Every day—no, every hour—she spent with Lance made her soften toward him. Made her feel other things besides softening. When Austin had said the thing about designing dresses, she’d been so scared Lance was going to tell him it wasn’t a job for boys, or that he’d huff and tell him they were a football family. As a girl who’d been obsessed with football, she’d been told she shouldn’t be plenty, even in Texas. Or like with the dating thing, where guys would quiz her because her brain couldn’t possibly retain football rules or stats. Since she’d had too much experience with that kind of thing, she wanted to protect Austin, and the fact that there’d been no need had sent relief through her.
Along withwaytoo much affection. Then Lance had said that thing about her being his Sam, and her heart had swelled so much she thought she might float right up to the ceiling.
You’re slipping again. Thinking things you shouldn’t. About a guy who doesn’t even want a relationship.
Not that she did, either. Except over the past few days, it felt like she kept trying to convince herself of that more than actually believing it. It was the wedding, all that love in the air, infecting her and making her forget about what happened when the tingly vibes faded.
They haven’t faded for Stacy and Mitch.
Or Maribelle and Chuck.
Or Taylor and Scott.
But that didn’t mean that things would work out forher. Maybe she was one of those people who was going to be single forever. Because that wasn’t a tad depressing to think about.
Shannon had been far from helpful when Charlotte had called her last night in desperation. Instead of telling her to keep it in her pants, her roommate told her she only lived once and that she should strap on some spurs, hop in that saddle, and enjoy hot sex with the former quarterback tons of women had crushed on—and still were.
“Once more people see that most eligible bachelor list and watch games with him sitting up in the owner’s box, tons of women will be vying for his attention—like those aggressive ones in that comment thread—and you’ll lose your chance. Do you really want to regret not taking it?”
Charlotte knew Shannon didn’t meant it in the way she’d heard it—that if any other women were around, he’d be showing them attention over her. Unfortunately, it was one of her worries about crossing lines.
At first she’d been sure she was the only one experiencing attraction vibes. But right before Lance had left today, looking insanely hot in his fitted tux, she swore there was something in his eyes. Maybe.
Say there was, though. How could they have sex and then just show up at the office and nod at each other? How could she sit across from him without thinking about how he’d seen her naked—she’d had a hard enough time meeting his eyes after he’d seen her in a bikini last night. In the dim light.
And then she’d have to feel jealous over every beautiful woman he dated after.
Hell, she already felt jealous, her gut pitching and roiling every time she thought of all the beautiful women who’d be happy to be on his arm for a night or more. Of the famous women people were already matching him up with.
It’d be good publicity, having him seen out and about in the city.Especially if he did date an actress or an athlete.Every photo they took of the handsome bachelor who owned the Mustangs would mean a mention of the team, and they needed to fill the stadium seats in order to keep their income high and their team continuously growing.
Early draft picks meant jack if they lost seasoned key players because they could get paid better somewhere else.
The knock on the door made her freeze. Who’d be knocking? Lance had a key, and it was his room. Maybe it was one of his family members. Or maybe it was one of those women his mom wanted to set him up with.
