She shook her head. Adding too much alcohol to the stress of the night would help nothing.
“How about a walk? There’s a huge empty golf course out there,” Corey offered.
She glanced at him.
“Unless you’re afraid you can’t keep your hands to yourself if we’re alone.” He waggled an eyebrow at her.
“Yes, Matthews, I’m lyin’ and dyin’ to get my hands on you.” She rolled her eyes and laughed.
“Lyin’ and dyin’ huh, Little Miss Texas?” Corey said but stood up.
She couldn’t deny it. Everyone knew no one outside the lone star state said things like lying and dying.
“And they say all big things come from Texas. How did you slip through those cracks?”
“Haven’t you ever heard the expression? The best things come in small packages.”
“Must be why I come from Rhode Island, since it is the smallest of all the states,” he replied with a smirk.
She was trying to decide whether she should question it or ignore the information she already knew. He spoke again before she had a chance.
“But you already knew that, know-it-all.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re annoying?” she asked, but Corey just laughed as he led her outside and down onto the golf course. And annoyed was the last thing she was feeling toward him at the moment.
Taran figured once he had her alone, he’d start the twenty questions about the Navy SEALs. She wondered how she would dodge them. But he surprised her with a ridiculous question instead.
“Do you have magic hair-growing syrup at home?” He glanced at her hair piece.
She didn’t use it much. She’d learned to love her short hair, but today, Taran assumed the guys would recognize her better with her old trademark beauty-queen locks. The only reason she had it was because everyone back home expected her to have long ebony hair. “Yes, I got it at Hogwarts, or maybe it was from my fairy godmother. It’s hard to remember.”
“Does that mean it’ll go back at midnight? Because I like it better shorter,” Corey said as they headed down the golf cart path.
She glanced at him to see if he was joking or not. “I thought you were into the girlie-girl-long-hair-drop-dead beauties who giggle and smile with stars in their eyes.”
Corey looked at her sideways. “Why?” he asked like the question actually confused him.
“Let’s see. You’re rich, you’re famous, you’re a star athlete, and I’m pretty sure you told me I wasn’t pretty enough to be your type.” She listed the obvious reasons.
He seemed to ponder that for a minute. “I don’t remember saying that. I’m pretty sure I didn’t because, from the moment I saw you smile at Demoda, I wanted you.”
“What?” Her heels sank into the lush grass beneath her feet. Corey offered his arm as she struggled to walk. She wrapped her hand over his tux jacket. Feeling the tight muscle of his forearm caused her stomach to flip.
He leaned down, and his breath danced off her ear, causing her to shiver.
“Yep, you stood there in Marc’s kitchen in that tent-like sweater, and all I thought about was getting you naked.” Corey pulled back and smiled.
She really couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.
“Seriously, you know you look gorgeous tonight, but I’m old-fashioned. I like the simple things, like how you looked the other morning when I pulled you out of bed.” Corey waggled his eyebrows at her again.
Now she was sure he was kidding.
“I’m not sure it was the right look for a wedding though.” She pulled away from him and crossed her arms over each other as the cool spring evening breeze blew through the path.
“The outfits have some similarity.” He took off his tux coat and wrapped it over her shoulders.
“They’re both black?”