Which was why she was at this wedding. To have some fun and spend a few hours functioning like a normal human being and, even if she was there with her boss, to forget about networking and just enjoy a celebration for one afternoon. She’d thought about Max and wondered how CJ’s wedding was going, hugged her stomach when she thought about the way she’d left the party. What a coward she’d been. But fortunately, it didn’t take long before her focus shifted back to the safety and comfort of work, and that part of her brain she couldn’t turn off started making connections. The ideas were there, the scent of opportunity thick in the air, and pretty soon she was skating through those immense church doors into the breezy midsummer morning and stealing around the corner to use her phone. She’d fired off one email and was halfway through another when she heard it. The throaty rumble of a motorcycle revving its engine as it roared past.
Another guest stepped up beside her, blond hair with a teal streak blowing in the wind and her pretty face split in a delighted grin. “Now this is a wedding.”
As Sarah turned toward the rumble just as it cut off behind her, her breath caught and she let out a stunned laugh. “I have to agree.”
There at the curb half a block down, the bride climbed off the back of the bike, piles of soft tulle falling about her legs in ruffled layers as she threw her arms around the driver for a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to the waiting groom, who’d come tearing around the corner when the bike pulled up. He pushed his hair back with both hands, revealing a face etched with relief and apology. And then he pulled his bride into his arms and kissed her like the war had just ended, complete with a deep dip…and tongue.
Yikes, that was definitely tongue.
A round of applause sounded from the few pedestrians and guests lucky enough to catch the fireworks, and Sarah sighed, just as the woman beside her commented again.
“I don’t know. I’m thinking these two might have just ruined me for all other weddings. And seriously, how can the rest of the day or anything else stand up to this.”
Sarah laughed again, turning to the woman. She looked about her age and height, maybe a little taller, and was standing with her arms crossed, hip shot to the side. She was pretty and vaguely familiar, though Sarah couldn’t place her. Not even when those bright-blue eyes met hers.
“Sorry for staring. I was thinking we’d met somewhere,” Sarah offered. “But maybe not. I’m Sarah Cole.”
The girl stuck out her hand for a firm shake. “Molly. Molly Brandt. James Bond over there on the bike is my brother, Max.”
Sarah blinked, holding her smile in place as her belly proceeded to pitch and dive.
Slowly, she turned to where the bride was now laughing with her head thrown back. The groom—without the lipstick-covered face, Sarah couldn’t tell if it was CJ—was down on one knee on the sidewalk, professing something Sarah might have wanted to hear if her attention hadn’t been fully occupied by the other man in a tux. The one with his back to her, climbing off the bike he’d just parked in its narrow spot.
He straightened to his full height, shrugged a set of broad shoulders to adjust his tux, then pushed a hand back through the short brush of his hair.
Sarah tried to swallow past her too-dry throat and felt the slow churn deep in her belly at the sight of that familiar motion. She should have waited for him at the bar last weekend for a lot of reasons. But specifically, right now? Because this was going to be awkward.
Maybe he wouldn’t see her.
A shrill whistle cut through the air, nearly sending Sarah out of her skin.
Molly pulled her fingers from her mouth and bounced a couple of times beside her. “Hey, Max!” she hollered, sticking her thumb in the air. “Nice entrance!”
And then Max was turning their way, his brows pulled together as he slipped off his mirrored aviators. Sarah might have been able to convince herself he hadn’t noticed her except then, there it was. That smile she remembered all too well. The dangerous, almost aggressively sexy slant of his mouth and—
Molly coughed beside her. “Okay, that smile definitely isn’t for me. Who are you again?”
Sarah opened her mouth, but a shaky breath was all that made it past her lips. Because Max was walking toward them, those long, powerful legs eating up the sidewalk with purposeful strides until he was right there. Impossibly handsome. Broad and imposing. Clean-shaven and wearing a tuxedo that looked like it had been made for him.
She swallowed.
He looked good.
After a quick nod of greeting to his sister, he turned to her with that brain-numbing smile going full tilt. “Sarah, long time.” Oh man, she should apologize for leaving the bar. But with his sister standing there? Explaining how nervous she’d gotten wondering if maybe she could convince him to sleep with her? It didn’t seem the way to go.
“Quite a show back there,” she remarked instead, stunned that despite the utter chaos happening deep inside her, she’d found the words to reply. It shouldn’t have surprised her though. Her years at Wyse had honed her social skills to such a sharpened edge that Sarah could have made comfortable conversation with an invading alien species. “Good to see everyone recovered from last weekend. How are you?”
“Yeah, Max,” Molly chirped from beside them, reminding Sarah that the outside world hadn’t faded completely away. “How are you?”
“Good, but late for a wedding, I think,” he answered, nodding back to the bride and groom who were starting to walk toward the doors to the church.
One of the bridesmaids was signaling for everyone to go back inside. Sarah smiled through the butterflies batting around in her belly. “Better hurry then, unless you’re planning another dramatic entrance during the ceremony.”
“Nah, I’ve met my quota for the day.” His eyes cut off to the right, and his smile slipped as Sean approached and stepped between them to set his hand at the small of her back.
“Hey, Moll. Max,” he greeted them, flashing his even, white smile. “Sorry, but I need to borrow my date.”
Sean knew Max? Thank God she hadn’t had the guts to proposition him!
“Your date,” Molly asked, raising one neat blond brow as she looked from Sarah to Sean and then back to her brother, who wasn’t smiling as he stood with his arms crossed over his broad chest. Finally, Molly settled on Sarah, the grin on her face wide and full. “Forget what I said. This wedding’s going to be plenty entertaining.”
* * *
The Wyse Hotel gave good reception. No two ways about it.
Standing amid a group of cops gathered by the upstairs south bar in the two-story Grand Ballroom, Max shook his head at the passing server and her tray of offered carpaccio roses. Tasty little suckers, but his mind wasn’t really on the food or drinks, or even the freshly minted married couple making the rounds with Tess’s father.
Max crossed his arms, propping a shoulder against the arched balcony doorway, and watched below as Sarah chatted and charmed one guest after another.
Christ, she was pretty.
With those long, warm brown waves and her silky length of neck adorned with a single square charm resting at the hollow, she looked as smooth and polished as her absentee date. And that observation was giving Max heartburn. Because maybe he’d been asking himself the wrong question, wondering what Sarah was doing with a guy like Sean. Maybe he should have been asking how serious Sean was about her. He hadn’t even wanted to consider the possibility when Jase brought it up, but Sean had been ready to settle down for years and Sarah fit the bill. She was poised and polite, beautiful with a girl-next-door look, a good woman with a “quality” family behind her.
Damn it.
Turning to the bar, Max walked over to Sean, who’d yet to swear the blood oath to stay away from Sarah that Max had been waiting for. Hell, the guy hadn’t actually given up anything but a few laughs at Max’s expense before his best-
man responsibilities had called him away. Then after the ceremony, Sean had been tied up with hotel business, which was why Max had been keeping his distance from the only woman he wanted to talk to. Because what his best friend had to say was going to radically impact the kind of conversation Max and Sarah had after.
“So you were telling me about Sarah,” Max prompted, leaning back against the bar.
Sean accepted his drink with thanks and a folded bill for the bartender, then took a leisurely sip before meeting Max’s eyes. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to circle back around.”
Asshole. He was enjoying this. Just like Max would be if the tables were turned.
“Might be smarter to wonder how long it’s going to take me to get Molly to post that St. Paddy’s Day picture of you from junior year. You know the one. You were bent over the bridge puking out your nose with your pants low enough to show off the shamrock tattoo? Amazing how you can still totally see your face though.”
All amusement left Sean’s eyes, and he downed half his drink in one swallow. “Temporary tattoo. And easy, killer. Sarah has been working marketing out of San Francisco Wyse the last three years, which is how I met her.”
“She said she was only in Chicago a few months.”
“Yeah, but I’ll get her to stay.”
Something hard and painful lodged in Max’s throat. Because if Sean had brought Sarah halfway across the country, the guy had intentions. Intentions Max would have been privy to if he hadn’t been such a little bitch about staying out of Sean’s romantic affairs. Yeah, the recreational stuff could get a tad more colorful than Max was into, and the flat-out wife hunt was mind-numbingly boring. But still. If he’d been paying attention, maybe he would have known about Sarah from the start. He could have steered Sean away. Or tried to.
“So she’s here for you?”
Sean was scanning the crowd, offering a nod and truncated wave here and there. Casual, like he hadn’t noticed that Max was wrestling with some seriously primitive shit while waiting on his answer.
“Got her moved in on Monday.”
The vein at Max’s temple was threatening to pop. “She’s living with you?”
How the fuck was that even possible? She’d said Piper was her roommate the Friday before.
Sean’s face screwed up and he let out a short laugh, doing a double take when he saw Max’s face. “What? No, man. Her new job isn’t opening up in New York until September first, so she’s here filling in while we have a couple of people out on leave. It’s not glamorous, but we need a hand and she’s got the time and doesn’t need any training. She started this week.”
The vise around Max’s chest loosened, and he had to look away as he sucked in a full breath.
“Your turn. What, did you let her talk you out of a ticket or meet her at the gym? Who’s Sarah to you, ’cause I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure it out and I’ve got nothing.”
Max walked up to the rail and looked over at the sea of guests. “You remember that girl from the library senior year? The one from Safewalk?”
Sean nodded, raising his glass to his lips.
“She’s that Sarah.”
The bourbon his buddy had presumably been aiming to swallow came rushing back on a cough that couldn’t have felt good, based on the resulting watery eyes and garbled swearing.
Then wiping his nose with a cocktail napkin, Sean gaped at him. “Shut the fuck up.”
Max cleared his throat and adjusted his stance, at which point Sean must have remembered they weren’t kicked back in his apartment or Belfast and pulled it together. That was the kind of slip Sean Wyse just didn’t make. His jaw disengaged from the floor, the nearly perfect posture corrected itself, and with one smoothing stroke of his hand, every golden strand fell in line and that perpetually photogenic smile was back in place. “Talk.”
Yeah, what could he really say? “I ran into her last weekend at the bachelor party. We were hitting it off like we used to”—and also not quite like they used to—“but she left before I could get her number.”
“So here’s the deal,” Sean began in a measured tone, straightening his tie. “This isn’t a real date. With things on hold with Valerie, I needed someone to bring, and Sarah was looking for something to do. Though in the name of full disclosure, I’d been thinking about making it a real date or maybe even… But it doesn’t matter. I won’t. I haven’t gotten any vibes off her, and honestly, the way she’s dedicated to her career, I don’t think she’d risk screwing it up, even if I offered her a five-karat diamond and a prenup guaranteeing her half my interest in the chain.”
Sean looked at Max and then leaned over the rail, no doubt finding Sarah before returning a skeptical look. “Damn, man. No wonder you were looking at me like you wanted to tear my arms off and beat me with them. That Sarah?” he asked, like he couldn’t quite believe it.
Join the club.
Another shake of his head, and Sean added, “So I guess she didn’t get married after all, huh.”
Max cracked his neck. “Guess not.”
* * *
Sarah stepped back from the gleaming vanity in the first-floor ladies’ room and recapped her lipstick, marveling at how free women could be with their secrets within this public yet sacred space. So far she’d learned that one of the bridesmaids was fooling around with two different guys, both of whom were at the wedding; that three years ago, the bride’s mother had offered her daughter a Mercedes if she’d break things off with CJ; and that the blond in the second stall was totally going to “do” the best man.
Max.
Good luck finding the guy. With dinner service complete, Sarah still hadn’t caught more than a fleeting glimpse of those broad shoulders and that thick dark hair disappearing into the crowd. Which she probably deserved after the way she’d left the bar, but it was frustrating the heck out of her nonetheless, because during the ceremony—which had been lovely, according to everyone who’d been able to keep their eyes on the nuptials themselves—the best man had managed the impossible and finally, unequivocally distracted her from all thoughts of work.
Too bad he’d done it while she was sitting in the middle of Holy Name Cathedral with her boss beside her in the pew as she prayed lightning wouldn’t strike her down for wondering if Max Brandt was still the bad boy he’d been in school. For hoping he might be. For wanting to believe he wouldn’t still be hung up on trying to protect her from herself.
Leaving the chattering wedding guests in their presumed cone of silence, Sarah returned to the party. Feeling at loose ends, she’d already checked in with the various bartenders, the orchestra, and the head server to see if there was anything they needed, but the Wyse team was running like a well-oiled machine. So she did what she’d come to do and snagged a flute of champagne from a passing tray with the intent of hitting the terrace for some fresh air and conversation.
She turned and smacked into a brick wall.
Or at least a man built like one. Breath rushing out as champagne spilled down her cream silk blouse, Sarah closed her eyes for one bracing second. Because that fast, she knew. She recognized the low current sizzling over her skin at the points where two strong hands were wrapped around her upper arms, and the punch of breath above her head.
Max.
Squinting one eye open, and then the other, she followed the trail of studs up the center of the tuxedo shirt two inches in front of her face, past the not-quite-neat tie to the olive skin of his neck, the solid jaw, and the hard set of a mouth she knew from experience could be so incredibly soft. Not now though.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, mortified by her clumsiness and certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’d just doused whatever spark of hope there might have been for her fantasy to become reality.
Damage control time.
She took a step back, or tried to, but—
&
nbsp; “Oomph… Um, Max?” she asked, finding herself pulled forward again. Harder. Closer.
His hands were locked around the bare skin of her upper arms, his chest firm and solid and strong against her own. The air in her lungs leaked out as she finally met Max’s eyes.
“Sarah, wait.” His voice was so deep. “Let me give you my jacket,” he said, releasing her arms to shrug out of it. “Just don’t step back until I do.”
She gasped as the cool air touched all the places where her blouse clung wet to her skin, and a downward glance confirmed the damage was about as bad as it could get.
“Oh no,” she murmured, feeling the heat of embarrassment build as she stared at the wide swath of clinging transparent silk and the distinctive lace outline of her demi-cup bra, which wasn’t nearly thick enough to do anything but draw more attention to what was beneath. Her hands crossed over her chest, and she shot a panicked look around them, wondering how big an audience she’d had for this little show.
Max quickly swung his jacket around her shoulders and pulled it closed in front.
“My hero,” she whispered on a quiet laugh, and this time, when Sarah looked into his face, those stormy eyes she remembered so well were looking back at her.
Her stomach dipped and the air felt thin, because of those eyes. There was something about the way he looked at her that scattered her thoughts and sent her heart into overdrive. Always had.
“Yeah, I’m taking my position as best man seriously,” he said gruffly. “Making sure no one competes with the bride for attention on her big day.” Then rubbing the back of his neck in a way Sarah couldn’t help but notice pulled the wet fabric of his shirt taut around his bicep, he squinted at her, that half-cocked smile doing things it really shouldn’t. “At the risk of this sounding like a line, what do you say we get out of here and find someplace private?”
Chapter 5
“Not exactly how I planned to get you alone,” Max stated, his low, rumbling voice sending chills skating over Sarah’s skin. “Think you’ll be able to use a blow-dryer or something to save your top?”