Page 29 of One Wild Wedding Weekend

Even so, there was a tiny part of him that wondered if Daley was different. If he was different when he was with Daley. If they might make it work beyond this one weekend.

He shook his head slightly to clear the cobwebs and dislodge those disturbing, dangerous thoughts.

Daley smiled sweetly. “I didn’t mean for you to go into a trance. I want you, Tristan. Rather desperately, in fact.”

“Ditto,” he muttered. He slipped two fingers inside her and found her ready for him. “I can’t wait. Not right now.” He entered her slowly, clenching his jaw, feeling the need to come almost instantly. Damnation. Reciting the states and capitals didn’t work.

Nothing could distract him from the pure, gut-deep pleasure of being inside her. What a pale, uninteresting word. Pleasure was too banal a description. Maybe incendiary. Or mind-altering.

Daley arched her back and gasped. “Oh, yeah,” she muttered. “Just like that.”

Daley bit his bottom lip, and he was lost. He slammed into her again and again, heard and felt her come, then slid over the edge into infinite, sweet darkness.

When he came to his senses, he didn’t know if twenty minutes had passed or two hours. The room was dark. A warm female body lay curled half on top of him. Daley. Fast asleep. Her gentle snores made him smile.

He leaned to one side and glanced at his phone—3:00 a.m.

Daley roused. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Go back to sleep.”

The next time he checked, it was almost five. “I should go to my room,” he said.

He waited for Daley to argue with him.

Instead, she turned on the bedside lamp and patted his chest. “Yes.” She tested the stubble on his chin with one finger. “It’s been a great weekend. Thank you for being such an entertaining best man.”

Wow. That sounded like a brush-off, but under the circumstances, it was probably a valid compliment. Why did it leave him feeling disgruntled?

As he stood to reach for his clothes, a knock sounded at the door.

Panic swept across Daley’s face. “It can’t be anyone but Tabby. Get under the covers and lie perfectly still. Hurry.” She grabbed her robe, stuffed her arms in the sleeves and belted it. “Do I look like I’ve been having sex?”

He winced and shrugged. “Yes.” Because he knew the stakes, he hid under the comforter, feeling like a fool. The tiny bedside lamp was low wattage. It made sense it was on, right? Daley wouldn’t have answered her sister’s summons in a dark room.

When she opened the door, Tabby’s voice was distinct. “I’m very sorry to wake you, sweetie, but I wanted to say goodbye one more time. I’ve never been this far away from you for so long.”

John’s words held humor. “She’s feeling a little unsteady, I think. Too much wedding and not enough sleep.”

Daley hadn’t pulled back the door completely. And she was using her body to shield the view of her bed. When Tristan peeked, he couldn’t see a damned thing.

As the two women hugged, the door swung a bit wider. Now, Tristan could see his brother’s face. And he also witnessed the moment John grew suspicious.

Tristan froze.

If John knew, he didn’t let on. “Let’s go, my love. We don’t want to miss our ride.”

Daley hugged him, too. “Take care of her. And have a wonderful trip.”

Seconds later, the crisis was over.

Daley sagged against the closed door. “Oh, my gosh. I nearly had a heart attack.”

Tristan shoved the covers to his waist. “So, do I still have to go to my room?”

A slow smile lit up her face. “Absolutely not.” She dropped the robe, crossed the rug and laughed softly when he pulled her down into his arms.

Sunday morning, Daley decided she needed to find a man who believed in getting eight hours of sleep. She was groggy, and the dark circles under her eyes weren’t at all attractive. It didn’t help her state of mind to realize Tristan was gone.

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