Page 42 of One Wild Wedding Weekend

He’d been a perfect gentleman at work. Their paths hadn’t crossed.

Daley was the one who broke their unspoken agreement.

Maybe Tristan was okay with that. What man wouldn’t be?

But now, she faced the fruits of her impulsive choices. Seeing Tristan ill and pale tonight had shaken her. If he was vulnerable and not just a convenient sex partner, she had to see him as more than her sister’s new brother-in-law.

And seeing him—really seeing him—raised a scary specter. Daley Martin might find herself falling in love. She already liked him. He was an entertaining companion. She adored the way he made love to her. He was smart and funny and though he had a healthy ego, he wasn’t a jerk like some guys.

Tristan Hamilton was a catch.

Except he wasn’t.

He didn’t want to be caught. He’d made that very clear.

Her head ached from wrestling with impossible questions. After her shower, she rummaged in the kitchen cabinets until she found a packet of cocoa mix that wasn’t out of date. Who said you couldn’t have hot chocolate in July?

She nuked the water in the microwave, stirred in the powder and added a few miniature marshmallows. All in all, it wasn’t half bad.

In the living room, she curled up on the sofa intending to read a chapter or two of the funny romance she was enjoying. She had started it weeks ago but had set it aside because of her busy schedule. When she opened the book, a card fell out. Flat. No fold. Beautifully printed in navy and gold ink on a coffee-colored heavy stock.

Tabby and John’s reception invitation.

In all the chaos of moving her business, she had almost forgotten. A week from this Saturday. At a fancy downtown hotel. There would be dancing and frivolity. Daley would be expected to bring a date.

She panicked. It couldn’t be Tristan. It couldn’t. At the wedding John had been upset that his brother and sister-in-law might be hooking up. If Daley and Tristan showed up together, their siblings would have questions. So many questions.

Tabby wasn’t the kind of woman who endorsed recreational sex. Not that she would judge Daley. But she would worry.

Besides, Daley had worked hard to pretend the wedding weekend fling with Tristan had been a onetime lapse in judgment. If Daley showed up with Tristan, Tabby would know Daley had lied.

This called for preemptive action. It was still relatively early.

She grabbed her phone and sent a text to her friend who lived in the apartment two doors down. You awake?

Yeah. What’s up?

I’m already in my jammies. Do you mind coming over for a minute?

When she answered the door, her neighbor raised an eyebrow. “Is there a bug you need me to kill?”

She laughed. “No. And besides, that’s sexist.”

“But true.”

Six-foot-three Jared Perlman had skin like polished mahogany and worked as a pediatric surgeon at Emory. He was also gay, but that was a bit of personal information he didn’t share widely. He was a very private man.

He and Daley had become acquainted when he moved in down the hall three years ago. She sometimes cooked for him after he’d worked a long, brutal shift. He was the big brother she never had.

He sat in her best chair, sighed and stretched. “What’s the emergency?”

“How do you know it’s an emergency?”

“It’s almost ten. You’re usually in bed by now.”

She perched on the edge of the sofa and chewed her fingernail. “I need a decoy date,” she said bluntly.

“Seriously?” He straightened, his gaze interested. “Why?”

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