"Don't think about that." I closed my eyes. "I don't want to think about it, either. I like you, Blakey. I like having you around."
"You flatter me."
"S'the truth." A drunken man's words are a sober man's thoughts. "I like you, and I don't like anyone."
My phone beeped. Blake grabbed it then went up the stairs. A moment later, someone whistled. "Nice place—very nice," Jake's voice boomed. "How you doin', soldier? Not so good?" he called down to me.
"Shut up," I croaked. The words barely got out.
"Don't worry. I got him." Jake rumbled down the stairs. He hoisted me up, ignoring my groaning protest. "He said it was important that he let you have some alone time until the ceremony," he told Blake. "No matter how drunk he is, I know he'd want to respect that."
"Thank you," I said. My voice came out muffled against Jake's chest.
"Thanks, Jake," Blake said. "And you." She leaned over and kissed me gently on the cheek. "Good night."
"I like you, babe. I really like you." I reached for her, my voice s
till muffled. "I can't wait until tomorrow."
"Get some rest and sober up." She sounded tired.
It was only later, when I was attempting to sleep on Jake's couch as he snored heavily nearby, that I realized she hadn't said she liked me back.
I hurt bad the next morning, but not as badly as I should have. I sent out a silent prayer of thanks to Blake for providing me with painkillers before I passed out. Then I just lay there until Jake stopped snoring, got up, and made us coffee.
When I ventured sitting up, my head felt as if there were rocks rolling around inside it. Mean rocks.
I sat down heavily next to Jake on the deck with my coffee. "So, quick question for you," he said.
I rubbed grit from my eyes. "Yes?"
"Last night, when we were leaving your room, you told Blake you liked her." Jake squinted at me, and I noticed how bloodshot his own eyes were.
"So?"
"So why didn't you tell her you loved her?" My friend looked stymied. "You are marrying her this afternoon and all."
I coughed. "Oh. That."
Jake took a sip of his coffee. "Just tell me the truth. Don't make me interrogate you. I have a bitch of a headache."
I sighed and leaned back against the chair. "I hired her to marry me. She's an escort."
"I knew it!" Jake hopped up and started pacing. Then he winced as if moving hurt and quickly sat back down. "Well, actually, I didn't think Blake was. I thought her friends were, though. Never met a woman who could out-drink me like that. Nikki didn't even wobble when she got up. I knew she was a professional something."
"Which is why I told you to stay away from her. You're a senator now. That's a scandal you don't need."
Jake shrugged. "She's cute, though."
"Stop. You can't. And you have to pretend you don't know. You can't let my sister figure it out, or she'll go nuts and this whole thing will blow up."
"Don't worry about it. I work in Washington now. I've got lying down to a science." He sat back down and looked at me. "I thought you and Blake were the real deal, though. I saw the way you were looking at her."
"I like her—just like I said. But there's nothing going on with us. We're getting married, and then she has to live with me for a year so I can inherit my share of the trust."
Jake laughed. "You're getting married, you're living together for a year, but there's 'nothing going on' with you two." He made air quotes in what I believed was an effort to truly annoy me. "That's classic Lucas Ford, right there. My man of steel. Nothing gets to you."
"It's a business arrangement," I explained with growing annoyance. "I'm not even sleeping with her."