Page 82 of Contingently Yours
“Thanks. You look…ridiculous.”
He also looks handsome, especially when he smirks. “No. That’s impossible.”
Oh, brother. And that’s why I didn’t need to compliment him. I roll my eyes and fight a smile. It doesn’t seem right to laugh and joke after the way I went off on him, considering what he just did for my sisters.
He steps forward suddenly. “I can’t look bad when I’m next to you, Lucas. The way I feel inside whenever you’re around…it’sso big it feels like it radiates and makes anything it touches look like gold.”
The way he feels inside? A flutter sweeps through my stomach, which is very inopportune since today isn’t about me, but what’s a guy supposed to do when an idiot walks in wearing a cowboy hat and says something like that?
Clearing his throat, he takes a step back and tugs at his cuffs. “Look, I don’t want to ruin their big day, so I’m going to get out of your way, but I’m here if you need me. I’ll just lurk in a corner and make sure all the champagne glasses are filled or something. But, um, when this is over, I was wondering if it’d be all right if I asked you out on a date?”
“A date?”
“Yeah. The kind where I ask you to keep being my boyfriend.” His tongue comes out to wet his lips. “Because…you were really good at it.” His mouth quirks up at the corner, but it’s not a mocking Andrew smirk. It’s a smile from a man who I think is trying to pour his heart out. “You’ve got the job if you want it.”
He…wants to be my boyfriend? For real?
He’s already had my ass, so if he wants it again, he certainly doesn’t need to take me on a date, which disintegrates my previous theory of him using me for sex. I’m not about to tell him how many times I had to watch ‘Jerry Maguire’ with my mother over the years or that he had me at Renegade. Even after that phone call from Mason this morning, when my heart flipped, I assumed it might still be an uphill battle of him being insensitive. Except, I think he just informed me he’s going to stick around like the pain in the ass he is and help at the reception whether I like it or not. Like a boyfriend would. A good one. If I wasn’t gone for him before, there’s no turning back now.
A microphone squeals, making me nearly jump out of my skin. Mason’s voice booms over the speakers. He introduces himself and the band, as if it were even necessary. Andrew and Iexchange amused looks as the three hundred and twelve guests lose their minds around us. I’m going to have to do the stand-in for Clark for the father-daughter dances soon, but it feels like so much more needs to be said before I lose sight of him.
He shifts in place, motioning over his shoulder, looking anxious. “I’ll just, uh, go sort the coats, charm the old ladies, and, you know, other wedding stuff.”
It’s such a bizarre state to see him in. The thought of him walking away, even a foot, tugs at my heart. “Do you want a drink?” I ask over the noise.
Smiling, he steps closer and takes off that stupid hat, looking relieved. His gaze canvases my face. It has the same look it did the night we made love in Darwin as he shakes his head. “Just you,” he whispers. I know damn well and good that I’m mouth-breathing right now. He must notice too because he inches closer so our chests are touching and murmurs, “Justonlyyou…for as long as you’ll put up with me, Tufty.”
The backs of his fingers brush mine. For once, I don’t feel like less or like I’m in this alone. I can’tnottouch him, so I weave my fingers through his. His breath hitches, and he squeezes his around mine, searching my eyes.
“I’ll be better,” he assures me in a rush. “You make me want to be better.”
I’m shaking my head before he’s even done speaking because he’s already better, or maybe he already was and just needed to know this wasn’t a game anymore for me, either. When did I start fingering the tassels on his shirt?
“Better is overrated.”
“I don’t know. It looks pretty good from where I’m standing.”
We sort of gravitate toward each other then, unavoidably, until our lips are nearly touching. Two victims of a heady spell. He’s the first to pull back, drawing me out of the fog.
“Sorry,” he chuckles, his gaze darting around, “I want to kiss you so badly.”
Shit. I would have let him, having completely forgotten where we were. I look over at the bridal table and find Jolissa, Julia, and the boys staring at us slack-jawed. Fuck. Fucking fuck.
“Shit,” Andrew whispers, releasing my hand and stepping back. “Busted.”
“Uh, yeah. There will be questions. Lots of questions,” I mutter, already imagining the girls putting me in the hot seat for all the dirt. I will be buried with that dirt clenched in my fist, if I have anything to say about it. There are just some things little sisters don’t need to know.
“I can help field them, if you want,” he offers, which is as sweet as it is unexpected, even if his mischievous grin has returned.
I can only imagine what he means. I distinctly remember what he told Mason about how our fake relationship started, so I decide to turn the tables on him.
“How you followed me around with those big puppy-dog eyes for weeks before you finally got the nerve to ask me out?”
He laughs, and it’s the most handsome sight I’ve ever seen. Nodding, the look in his eyes turns tender again, though. “Yeah, more or less. I didn’t know what hit me.”
Isn’t that the truth? I’m about to become a puddle of emotions on the floor, but luckily, Mason announces that it’s time for the special dances, so I’m forced to pull myself together.
“Um…I have to—”
