His phone was in the pocket of his suit jacket, which I was sitting on.
Jay’s annoyed sigh was so quiet I barely caught it over the hum of the cicadas in the trees. He dug his phone out and peered at the screen, which cast soft blue light on his face. It made him look older and serious, but no less attractive.
“Dave,” he explained. “He said Marcy’s been texting you. He asked if I know where you are.”
“I left my purse at the table.” Crap. That wasn’t very smart on my part, but I blamed my distraction on the tall, handsome guy who’d been kissing me fifteen seconds ago.
The phone vibrated again in his hand, and as he read the new message, a confused, playful look lit his eyes. “Now he’s asking me if I’m okay.” An incredulous smile broke on his face. “Holy shit, you make guys cry?”
“Come on, man.” I groaned. Dammit. “Only the one time. He said running spread offense was—” I slammed my mouth shut with an audible snap. “No. No sports. You men are delicate little creatures.”
Jay blinked, as if unsure my statement was hilarious or offensive. “Say that again?”
“It’s Marcy’s mantra. I guess I need to get back to her.”
His gaze scanned down as if evaluating me, and then his thumbs moved, tapping out a response. “I’m telling him we’ll be back in five.”
He slipped the phone back into his pocket, and the cool wind rushed all around us, fluttering my skirt and rustling noisily in the trees. Thank God for the interruption. Part of me wanted to stay here on the wall and let Jay’s hands explore further up my skirt, but the fresh burst of air had my head back on straight. My friend was looking for me.
Not just my friend, but the bride, and this was her day. I needed to set my hormones to the side.
Jay leaned in, and I turned my head at the last moment, so his kiss landed on the corner of my mouth. A direct hit would be like a blitz. When I denied him the full contact, his mouth sought other areas, zeroing in on my neck.
“You make it hard to want to get off this wall,” I said.
“I’m not sorry about that.”
I shuddered with pleasure but put my hands on his broad shoulders, easing him back. Reluctance played over his face and vanished into a soft smile. He helped me down onto my feet, brushed the dirt off his tux jacket, and folded it over his arm. I looked up at him when I realized he was concealing his hard-on, but he ignored my grin and handed me my shoes.
“Consider this halftime,” he said. His low voice was seductive and promising.
“Watch it,” I teased. “That’s a sports reference.”
We made our way slowly back to the clubhouse, which was probably for the best. The sunlight was fading fast now and the mosquitos had discovered I was delicious. Marcy was on the stone patio, encircled by her guests and talking animatedly until her gaze locked on to me. Or perhaps the guy I was walking beside.
She looked uneasy.
When I reached the top of the steps, Marcy stepped away from her guests, grabbed my arm, and stared up at Jay. “Can I borrow Kayla for a second?”
“You want another drink?” he asked me, gesturing to the bar inside.
“No, thanks. I’ll see you inside.”
His large form disappeared through the doorway, and the grip on my arm suddenly went ferocious. I stared down at Marcy’s hand squeezing my bicep. “Um, ow?”
My statement didn’t even register. Her face was ultra-serious. “Where did you two run off to?”
I shrugged off her hold. “We went for a walk.”
Skepticism streamed across her expression. “Were you scoping out places to hide the body?”
“What? Whose body?”
“Jay’s.” Her tone suggested I was being an idiot, and apparently, I was. Because I didn’t get it.
“Do your eyes not work? Why would I want to hide his banging body?” I made a face. “I apologize for my use of the word ‘banging’ just now. But seriously. You thought I was going to murder him?”
She pressed her lips together. “I didn’t think you guys would get along.” Her posture straightened abruptly. “You went for a walk with him?”
She was just picking up on that comment now? “Yeah.”
“What exactly did you do on this walk?”
I tried not to let the heat of the memory get to me. “We talked.”
She didn’t buy it for a second. “Oh, yeah? About what?”
“Stuff.” I was so convincing. “Non-sports related . . . stuff.”
“Hussy!” She whispered it like it was a great victory. “Oh my God, tell me everything.”
-6-
JAY
Bass thumped from the dance floor. I stood in line for the bar, sandwiched between two drunk uncle-types. The guy in front of me swayed haphazardly to the music. It wasn’t even nine o’clock. How was he so loaded?