She opened the door to see the corner of Jase’s mouth kicked up in that way that made her a little weak. Managing a laugh, she shook her head. “No, not with Mitchel.”

  “Okay then.” Bigger grin. Of the sorry, not sorry variety. “See you tonight, Em.”

  * * *

  Jase swung his strawberry-blond dance partner around the dance floor in the center of the reception banquet hall. The little beauty was six years old, done up in a miniature version of the bride’s gown for her flower girl duties, cute as a button, and determined as hell. And so light that he could barely feel her tiny feet perched on the tops of his shoes.

  The wedding, in Jase’s estimation, was what all weddings should aspire to: short and sweet. Delphine was a knockout, and Marcos had that smacked look on his face Jase liked to see on all his grooms. The guy even choked up during the vows. Add to that the little ring bearer with the big, brown eyes and full mop of dark curls who’d cut his trip down the aisle short at about the two-thirds mark before going to hide behind his dad in the pew.

  Good stuff.

  The one fly in the ointment—Emily.

  She was off.

  “So Elsa is my favorite,” came the vehement assertion from his dance partner. One she made bouncing on her toes for emphasis. “She’s the best of the princesses, and I have them all.”

  “I have them all too,” he assured her, straight-faced. Because if there was one thing Jase had learned over the years of dancing with flower girls, it was that the hierarchy of princesses was no laughing matter. “Elsa is the best.”

  Satisfied, she went on to elaborate all the ways in which Elsa qualified as best. Jase scanned the crowd, his eyes landing on the strawberry blond he hadn’t been able to score more than five minutes of conversation with since they’d arrived at the church.

  Dressed in a shimmering, ice-blue gown that matched his tie, she was standing by the gifts table, her eyes lost in some middle space.

  It had been a mistake to dredge up their past before the wedding, but something had clicked last night, and when he’d woken up this morning, hell, he hadn’t been able to let another minute pass without giving Emily the apology she should have had years ago.

  He needed to talk to her.

  A tug on his hand brought his eyes back to his flower-girl dance passenger.

  “You aren’t dancing.”

  A new song was already playing, that Shania Twain wedding favorite “Forever and For Always,” which always made him cringe a little on the inside, because…well, look at the blindside she’d had.

  Before he had to try to let the six-year-old down easy, her dad stepped up and offered to cut in. Saved.

  One of the other bridesmaids was already heading in his direction, but again that sense of urgency gripped him, and he cut through the crowd, offering a few nods and smiles along the way, until… Shit.

  Where was she?

  Twenty feet off, leaning in for a powwow with the photographer, a list in hand.

  Right. Because Emily was the super attendant, verifying that the photographer knew which guests to make sure he got pictures of throughout the night.

  Two songs later, Brody was holding up the wall across from the bar with Jase, pointing out some girl who’d caught his eye. Jase gave a subtle nod toward the brunette with the sequins.

  “No, man, she’s got the honey-blond hair and”—Brody swallowed and adjusted his jacket like it was suddenly too tight—“and that dress that ties behind her neck.”

  Jase started scanning the area, but got distracted when he saw Emily making the rounds of the tables.

  Collecting the full disposable cameras and dropping new ones.

  Smiling and talking with everyone.

  “That guy she’s sitting with is her date, but look at ’em. She’s chattering away and he’s on his phone, totally detached. I don’t think they’re together together.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” He didn’t know because he was still watching Emily. But then he’d had enough watching. “Good luck, Brod.”

  Catching up to Emily back at the gifts table, Jase shoved his hands into his pockets and turned so he was facing her and the crowd. So maybe it didn’t look like he was watching her as closely as he was. “Having fun?”

  She emptied her bag of disposable cameras into the oversize glass bowl.

  A nod and smile. One that almost looked like the real thing.

  “Very much. And you?”

  “Oh yeah.” Great. And now the woman who’d never had a shortage of words for him was suddenly giving him the kind of stunted small talk usually reserved for awkward encounters with out-of-town cousins who only made the lineup by birthright.

  “You’ve been running around since we got here. How about a dance, or maybe you want to sit down and take a break? I’ll get you a drink.”

  Her answer was in her eyes. And it wasn’t the one he was hoping for.

  “I’m good. Really. I just offered to take care of this stuff. You know me,” she said with a less-than-convincing shrug. “I like to stay busy. And actually, I’ve got a couple of—” She broke off and looked at her hands. After a breath, she met his eyes. “It’s not you, Jase. It’s just… Today was kind of a lot.”

  He was such an ass. “I feel like crap about it, Em. I shouldn’t have—”

  “No,” she said clearly, firmly. “I’m glad you did. But still, closure is kind of a big deal,” she said with a quiet laugh that made that spot in the center of his chest ache. “I think maybe I just need a minute with it, you know?”

  Space. What she needed was some space, not some full-court press.

  Not yet.

  “I can give you space.” He leaned in and pressed a brief kiss to her temple. “Anything you need.”

  * * *

  “That’s it?” Lena all but choked from where she’d been leaning over their end of the communal-style lunch table at Star of Siam, her glass of chardonnay suspended a few inches from her mouth. “We’re leaving this with him giving you space?”

  Emily smiled at the way Lena nearly spat the word, a bite of som tum carelessly dangling from her chopsticks as though she wasn’t worried about it dropping onto her neat white suit. Emily would be terrified. With good reason.

  “I think so, yeah. I mean, I know he was saying he wanted more, but after we talked… Lena, I think maybe it was more about closure. About putting the past behind us and moving forward as…” Okay, this was where she wasn’t entirely sure. Because Jase hadn’t said anything about them being friends. In fact, he’d been pretty clear that he’d never actually seen her as a friend. Even though he’d wished maybe he had. But now?

  “Moving forward without all the baggage.”

  Lena sat back, careful not to bump the woman sharing the bench seating behind her, and stuck out her deep-burgundy bottom lip. “But he was trying to get you back into bed. To sleep sleep with him.”

  Yeah, and as tempting as that was coming from a guy like Jase, it also made her nervous. Because it smacked of the “next step” business Emily preferred to avoid.

  And when she’d initially given in to that pull between them, a part of her had only been able to do it because Jase wasn’t a “next step” kind of guy.

  He’d seemed so safe.

  “I know you’re all deep in your honeymoon phase and ready to start recruiting. But believe me when I tell you that Jase and I aren’t quality happily-ever-after candidates.”

  Lena shook her head. “Obviously, I don’t know the guy like you do…or I’d have some serious explaining to do.” She snickered with a flash of mischief in her eyes. “But I’ve seen him with some of his other girlfriends when everyone meets up for a show or dinner or something. And the way Dean tells it, Jase isn’t the kind of guy who has trouble letting women out of his bed the next morning. That is, if he even let them in it. Isn’t
he one of those ‘your place, not mine’ guys?”

  Emily didn’t know.

  “All I’m saying is, he sounds different with you.”

  “I think you just want him to be different. But even if he was… Lena, I’m not interested. What we had was fun and satisfying. But I’m not looking for forever any more than he is.”

  “Right now,” Lena added, taking a bite of her salad and then dumping the extra side of peanut sauce she’d ordered over the whole thing. “You aren’t interested in forever right now, but you will be some day.”

  This time, it was Emily taking the deep swallow of wine, followed by another bigger bite of spicy, green shredded papaya. Which she chewed thoroughly.

  From across the table, one neatly sculpted black eyebrow pushed toward the ceiling.

  “Emily, don’t you want to get married?”

  As close as Lena and Emily were, this was one of those subjects about which Emily had always managed to be a better listener than a contributor. And having started their careers together working for Lena’s dad, Paul, it wasn’t like they didn’t have a million other things to get caught up in conversation over.

  Emily usually managed to worm her way out of this particular conversation with everyone. Even when her mother had cornered her last Thanksgiving, she’d found an out.

  But the way Lena was watching her, there was no use hiding. The jig was up.

  “I used to,” Emily answered honestly. “I used to think I wanted a husband. A family. Three little kids and a dog. But as I’ve gotten older—”

  “Twenty-seven. Gasp. You’re as old as the hills. A downright elder in the community. Do they tell folktales about you? Do the young-uns come seeking your wisdom?”

  This was why Emily loved Lena. The woman could always be counted on to make her laugh.

  Setting down her chopsticks, she shook her head and looked at her friend affectionately. “Yes, actually. They do come to me for wisdom.”

  An eye roll was Lena’s reply, quickly followed by one of those waving hands, not so politely requesting more information.

  “I just don’t feel the same way about marriage and family as I used to. I mean, I see you and Dean, and I couldn’t be happier for you both. Same with Sally. I love love. But I love it more for you guys than for me. In my own life…” She broke off, letting her eyes roam over nothing and everything as she tried to think how best to explain. “Lena, I didn’t get over what happened with Eddie the way you got over what happened with…he-who-must-not-be-named. You were so strong and so determined, and I’m so glad you found Dean.

  “But when I think about getting serious, it’s like I can’t breathe. Like I want to run away. And the thing is, I’m not sad about it. I don’t feel like I’m missing some critical piece of something. I just… I think I’m happier being on my own. I like that I don’t have to answer to anyone about my schedule. I like having my own place. I like knowing that I can do anything I want, any time I want.”

  “That sounds more like you aren’t ready to settle down, though.”

  “Maybe,” Emily said, picking up her chopsticks again, hoping to resume lunch and move on to a more comfortable topic.

  Lena looked like she was debating whether to press, but in the end she just sighed. “So you didn’t leave it any particular way with Jase.”

  “No.”

  “So really he might—”

  “I don’t think so, Lena. I think if anything we’d go forward as…”

  Again, she couldn’t quite make herself say friends, but the way he’d looked at her had been with real caring. She didn’t know. “Whatever happens with us, I think it’s going to be a lot easier than it has been in the past.”

  Chapter 16

  March

  How in the hell had she thought this was going to be easier? Nothing was ever easy when it came to Jase Foster.

  “Friends? I thought we already had this conversation,” Jase said, pitching his voice to be heard over the crowded bar where Romeo was playing bass guitar with his band. “I don’t think of you as a friend.”

  “I remember. You never have. But I guess I thought maybe after our talk and how it’s been between us lately, I thought you might now.”

  Jase let out a short laugh, then did that laser-tracking thing with his eyes where she couldn’t quite force herself to look away. “How it’s been between us lately should have told you exactly why friends isn’t where we’re headed.”

  The words probably should have stung, but with the way Jase was looking at her with that small curve at the corner of his mouth… No, she wasn’t taking it hard.

  “Okay, so you don’t want to be friends. What do you want?”

  The question slipped past her lips before she had a chance to think how ridiculous it was. Because what Jase wanted was obvious.

  An unoccupied storage closet in close proximity.

  A car with enough legroom for two individuals of above-average height to be able to get up to no good.

  A quick hookup—or not so quick, if he was in the mood to push his luck—in any semi-private space he could find.

  Jase wanted sex.

  Which she’d been great with before, but now, sex suddenly felt…complicated. Which was making her nervous.

  “What I want,” Jase said, leaning down into her space and then brushing her hair back so that when he spoke quietly into her ear, his lips grazed the outer shell, sending tingles shooting down her arms, “is to take you on a proper date.”

  She blinked, momentarily mesmerized by his sexy smell and the deep rumble of his voice. She blinked again.

  “Wait, what?” she asked, pulling out of smelling range to shake off the crazy effect he had on her.

  Jase held her eyes, that cocky grin firmly in place. “A date. You’ve heard of them, I assume. You know, where I take you out for a meal and a bottle of wine…before I take you back to my place and spend the rest of the night making you beg and moan and gasp my name in that way you know drives me wild.”

  Wow, and the goose bumps were rolling across her skin like a wave rushing to shore.

  Okay, that sounded good. Very good, actually. Except for the part about it being a very bad idea.

  “I’m sorry, Jase. But I think that would be a mistake.”

  “Really?” he asked, that smile not giving an inch. “Why?”

  “Jase, neither of us is interested in a relationship. And honestly, I’m a little concerned that if we keep on the way we have been, someone’s emotions are going to end up getting involved.”

  He nodded, those bright blue eyes tracking around the crowded bar before landing back on hers. “If I ask you a question, can you promise you’ll be honest with me when you answer?”

  She owed him at least that much. “Of course.”

  “That dress,” he started, jutting the square of his chin toward the deep vee at the neck of her chocolate wrap. “Were you thinking of me when you picked it out?”

  Had she actually been idiot enough to tell Jase she’d answer him with honesty?

  Blowing out a long breath, she womaned up. Sort of. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. So much has happened, you know?”

  The corner of Jase’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t call her out on the sidestepping cheat. Instead, he nodded like he absolutely agreed. And then, “How about what’s underneath? Were you thinking I’d like what you’ve got on beneath that damn-near-impossible-not-to-touch velvety plaything?”

  She swallowed and felt her pulse speed and a slow-spreading heat move through her center.

  Because while she hadn’t actually been planning for Jase to see them when she selected the set in soft cream—cut sparse in all the places that mattered—there had been that single fleeting moment where she envisioned Jase’s big hands reversing her progress and pulling them free. Pressing his mouth where the
silk had been and—

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Jase growled, that too-confident, too-sexy smile gone and something predatory in its place. And then his arm was wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close to him as they cut through the crowd toward the back of the bar.

  This was nuts. She shouldn’t be going with him. She shouldn’t be eagerly matching his stride as Jase sought out someplace barely private to investigate exactly what kind of sexy the bra and panties she was wearing had going on. Because by ending things, there would be no risk. No worry of anyone getting in too deep. No messy emotions going off the chain when all she wanted was the security of emotions that were well contained.

  But here they were again.

  And now that she’d accepted she was going to take this one last night with him and then never think of him while selecting panties again, she wasn’t even waiting for him to lead the way. She was cutting ahead of the crowd, catching his fingers with hers to lead to the back of the bar. Her heartbeat coming heavier than the bass pumping through the sound system, her skin beginning to tingle in anticipation of a touch she’d told herself she couldn’t have again.

  They turned into the back hall. There was a line of women waiting for the ladies’ room, and no way she was going into the men’s.

  Jase pressed up against her, wrapping his long arms around her middle and pulling her in close so her back was tucked tight against the solid wall of his chest. Tighter still as he ducked his head to her ear.

  “Where are you taking me, Emily?”

  God, his breath on her neck. His words like a deep rumble moving inside her.

  “I thought maybe there was someplace quiet back here, but—”

  “Keep walking. Almost there.”

  Her fingers slid between Jase’s as they continued to advance down the hall. Until they got to the back exit.

  She glanced at him from over her shoulder. “Through here?” she asked, anticipation ramping up with every second that passed. Because…the alley? Because never had anyone even thought for a second to take her to the places Jase did.

  They stepped out into the brisk night air, and Emily shivered. Hooking her fingers through the buttons of Jase’s shirt front, she pulled him closer. “It’s freezing. We’re going to have to be quick.”