Page 70 of Most Likely to Score
She leans back in her chair. “We’ll be bummed together.”
Together.
That last word rings in my ears.
It’s what I want. To find a way to be together with her. I don’t have any grand plans, I haven’t concocted some brilliant scheme for the long run.
But for the short term? I have one hell of an idea.
I drum my fingers on the wood of her desk as thewheels turn in my head. Faster, picking up speed, because this wedding is a chance for something else entirely. Something that’s not about her ex and his stupid comments.
Something about us.
A plan forms as I imagine Jillian wearing a sexy dress, black heels, her hair all done up. She’d be stunning, like she is every time I see her. “Did I ever tell you about the time I was invited to Sierra’s wedding, too, and forgot to RSVP?”
She lifts a brow in curiosity. “I don’t believe I’m familiar with that tale. Go on.”
“If memory serves, an invitation arrived a month or so ago, and I did this thing I often do with mail.”
“You forgot about it?”
“Yes, but now I’m not forgetting about it. I’m thinking Sierra likes me. Sierra probably wouldn’t mind if I said I was so very sorry for the late response, but that I’d love to attend her nuptials.”
“You would?” Her voice is breathy.
My gaze locks with hers. “I would love to attend. I hear one of the other guests is someone I’ve been trying to steal a moment with here or there.”
“I’m going with Katie. She’s my plus-one.”
“Even better.” The train rattles faster down the tracks. “I’ve no doubt I can convince Harlan to go with me.” I smile wickedly, pleased with my plan. “Me with my friend. You with your friend. No one would think I was only going to see how pretty you’d look all dressed up. And maybe to sneak a dance with you.”
Sparks dance across her eyes as they glitter withthe thrill of a secret date in the most unlikely of places—a place where no one would suspect us. We’d be hiding a tree in a forest, and a date like this is much safer than a late-night rendezvous at her place or mine, someplace where a photographer, a fan, a paparazzo might see one of us slipping in or out.
Lowering her voice, she speaks ever-so-softly. “I want a stolen moment with you. I want a dance with you. Do you think it’s a good idea, though?”
I inch closer, placing my elbows on the edge of her desk. “I think not having a dance with you is a bad idea.”
I’d like to grab her, kiss her across the desk, haul her next to me. I’d like to slam the door and get my hands all over her.
But our hazy, flirty moment severs when someone knocks on the door. I straighten in the chair, pushing farther away from her desk.
Lily strides in, her flaming red hair and big personality lighting up the room. One of her hands is positioned behind her back. “Jones! That was an epic catch yesterday. I saw it all over the highlight reels last night and today, too.”
“Just doing my job.”
“And love theJ. Love it, love it, love it. It’s the perfect mix of cocky and cute.”
“That’s me. The twoCs.”
“I heard you were here, so I have a surprise.” She whips her hand from behind her back to brandish a calendar. “It’s a sample of the calendar for ourapproval, and it’s stunning. The two of you did amazing work,” Lily says, pointing from Jillian to me.
Jillian hurries around to the front of the desk, and the three of us crowd together as Lily flips through the pages of me with pussycats and puppies. Jillian’s hair falls loosely over her shoulders, and I curl my fingers into fists to refrain from touching it. With her this close to me, it’s a five-star feat of resistance that I somehow don’t bend my nose closer to sneak a whiff of her shampoo.
As we flick through the pictures shot in Miami, Jillian’s breath catches, and one syllable seems to escape in a faintly sultry, “Oh.”
Lily cocks her head, her eyebrow arched in question.
A splash of pink races across Jillian’s cheeks. “Oh, these are so fantastic,” she says, her tone as cheery as can be.
