“Exaggeration,” I scoffed.
Champ’s blue eyes met mine in challenge, and he touched the tip of his tongue to the corner of his mouth. “You don’t remember begging me last night?”
Oh, fuck. Oh, Champ. Harder. Please, harder.
I felt my face go hot.
“He said, ‘Please, Champ. You have such incredible taste. Come and show the people your skills.’ So I agreed, of course. Can’t say no to my Dollface.”
The urge to roll my eyes was nearly overwhelming.
“Wait. You?” Levi asked Champ, giving him a suspicious glance from his beefy shoulders to his beefy chest to his equally beefy thighs, lovingly encased in his neatly pressed pants. “You know about planning weddings? Dresses and decorations and shit?”
“Oh, no. Not really. I leave all the piñatas and balloon animals to this guy.” Champ ran a finger down my cheek, and it was not hot. It was not. “But Quinn says I have a natural eye for form and style.” Champ shrugged modestly. “After all, I picked him, didn’t I?”
Levi turned his speculative gaze to me, eyeing me from my oxfords to my lilac pocket square, as if wondering what the attraction might be. I blushed.
“Levi,” Marissa said abruptly. “Stop being rude. Be a sweetie and tell Daddy that we’re in the parlor?”
Levi hesitated, and Marissa set her hands on her hips. “Today, please? My mother’s waiting. And Trey’s gonna make an excuse to leave any minute.”
Levi gave Champ a warning look, then turned without a word and strode away.
Marissa rolled her eyes. “I swear, that man is allergic to weddings,” she said hotly. “Ever since Trey and I announced our engagement at Christmas, he’s treated me like I have the plague, and I have no idea why.”
Champ and I exchanged a glance. The longing look Levi had leveled at Marissa before he knew we were there suggested one possible explanation.
But I was sure as fuck not gonna speculate about that to my bride, who was engaged to someone else.
“Well. Some men are just scared of commitment,” I said brightly. “Immature, but what can you do?”
“Or maybe he’s been in a relationship before and it didn’t work out,” Champ suggested. “And he’s smart to be cautious.”
“Or maybe he’s just being an asshole,” she sighed. “Christianson Protective Services is his dad’s company, and his dad’s worked for my dad forever. Levi grew up with his nose in my business. After the wedding, we probably won’t see each other as much, though. Which is a good thing.” She cast a troubled look down the hall where Levi had disappeared. “Anyway. Let’s—”
“Marissa!” Trey lounged against the doorway of the room to the right of the foyer, looking put out. “What’s taking so long?”
Marissa summoned a smile for her fiancé. “Sorry, Trey. We’re just coming. Look who Quinn brought!” She held out a hand to Champ like a game-show hostess.
The look Trey gave my fake fiancé was a little bit deer-in-headlights, and he tried to avoid looking at me at all. It was probably wrong and barbaric, but it really worked for me in all kinds of pants-tightening ways.
Marissa caught up to Trey and led the way down the hall.
Champ grabbed the box from the entry where he’d dropped it, and the two of us followed.
“Your cheeks turn a lovely vermillion when you’re aroused,” he whispered conversationally.
I stood straighter. “What happened to you being a silent partner?” I demanded in a hiss. “Teach a man a single vocabulary word and suddenly he’s telling people he’s my wedding style guru? And what’s with the ‘aw, shucks, I’m a mall cop’ thing?”
“Levi knows who I am and what I do. Clearly I’m not the only one running a trace on people.” He chuckled to himself, no doubt at my ineptitude with badassery. “If I’d known I was going to be going in as your fake fiancé, I might have made up a different identity when I introduced myself yesterday, but I didn’t. And actually, this is for the best. They were bound to check out anyone you brought along, and this way, my honesty makes it look like I’ve got nothing to hide. But just in case, let them think my business does rent-a-cop stuff and alarm installations. Maybe they won’t look deeper.”
Hmph. Okay, that actually sounded reasonably intelligent.
But… if Champion Security didn’t do those things, what did they do?
Champ looked at my face and laughed. “What did I tell you? You take care of the crepe paper streamers, Honeysuckle. Leave the investigating to me.”
He gave me a wild grin before stepping into the parlor, crying, “Carlotta! Darling, how is it possible that you look younger than yesterday?”
I shook my head and followed.
I was pretty sure my bodyguard slash fake fiancé needed a keeper. And it looked like it would have to be me.
4
CHAMP
Twenty minutes later, I’d decided that leafing through the bridal magazines hanging around Quinn’s place had given me more than enough information to handle myself in a wedding-planning session, thankyouverymuch. Piece of cake.