Misadventures of a Backup Bride

If I had known they hadn’t been dating—if Shane had mentioned that even once—I would have tracked Ella down. Well, I would have wanted to. But two weeks after his bash, I was called back to North Carolina to attend Edward’s funeral and assume the reins of Sweet Darlin’, so my life utterly changed.

But Ella is here now. With me. I want the lay of her romantic land. I know it shouldn’t matter to me. But I won’t lie to myself. It does.

“You didn’t seem like his type,” I remark.

She frowns. “Why? He’s an astrophysicist. Am I not smart enough?”

“That’s not it.” I smile. “Quite the opposite. You’re not bimbo enough. He likes them compliant and, um…dim.”

She doesn’t respond for a long moment. Does she somehow think I’ve insulted her? I can’t imagine the insinuation that she’s smart would upset her. But who knows how the female mind works? I jerk my stare from the road and glance over to her.

Rather than scowling, I find her laughing behind her hand, mirth sparkling in her dark eyes. “Seriously?”

“Oh, yeah.” I nod. “Shane is a buddy. Really smart, obviously. But a complete asshole when it comes to dating.”

That makes her laugh out loud. “I understand now why, despite his good looks and intelligence, he’s single. My friend works with Shane, and when she found out he was dateless for his own birthday party, she insisted I would be perfect for him. I went skeptically but determined to be nice. It was his thirtieth birthday, after all. My first impression was that Shane is easy on the eyes and well employed, but not someone I could see myself with.”

“How did the evening end?”

“I told him I had an early morning audition.” She winces. “It was a lie. And he seemed fine with it. I hadn’t even pulled my car out of the driveway when I saw him come on to a blonde in a dress the size of a tube sock.”

Her description makes me laugh outright. “That’s Shane. He’s the kind of friend who would give you the shirt off his back, but a real douche with women.”

“Hence the reason I never saw him again.”

So I can put to rest any thoughts of losing a pal over this beauty I’m lusting for. “Good to know. Do you have any food allergies I should be aware of?”

“Fat, carbs, and sugar.” She’s doing her best to sound stern.

“So a prime steak, a baked potato, and something decadent for dessert it is.”

Her dark brows knit into a little frown. “Carson, I—”

“We agreed on this.”

“No. You twisted my arm. You know, you’re not always going to get your way.”

I plan to often enough that I’m not going to sweat the times I don’t. There are perks to being the boss.

“Of course not.” I toss a smile her way.

“Liar. You think you are.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It’s all over your face. You totally think you are.” She cocks her head. “How long did your last relationship last?”

If Ella is suggesting that my ex and I didn’t make it because I was stubborn… Well, I’m sure that didn’t help, but that wasn’t the cause of our breakup. “About four months. Alexis was driven. When she received a job offer in Stockholm, she jumped at the chance.”

“Oh.” Ella nods like that’s totally understandable. “Then tell me about your longest relationship.”

I think back and back…and back some more. “High school. I dated Laura from the middle of my sophomore year until we graduated.”

“Then what happened?”

Frowning, I try to brush the thoughts aside. But they’re pesky, like weeds. When I yank them out, they only come back. Also like weeds, I have no idea where they stem from. They simply appear, full-grown, as if they sprouted and bloomed in a blink. “She wanted a deeper commitment before we both went off to college. She seemed determined to get engaged, if not married. We were eighteen. Too young.”

“Did you love her?”

“As much as I knew how to back then. But we had different futures in mind. Her parents were high school sweethearts still happily married. She believed her life should follow the same path. When I looked at her folks—neither went to college because her mom got pregnant with her older brother—working tough jobs, living paycheck to paycheck, always dreaming about the weekend so they could all spend time together… That wasn’t what I wanted. Plus”—I shrug—“marrying early hadn’t worked out for my mom and Edward. Mom struggled financially until she met my stepdad, and even then we weren’t super rich. Edward was ambitious, and despite the fact he didn’t raise me, I still had that fire in my blood to make something of my life. Laura didn’t understand why I wouldn’t settle for a mere job. If we had married and made it through college, we’d be long divorced by now.”

“That’s a difficult situation. Neither of you was wrong…”

“Just different.” I nod. “Our relationship was great when it revolved around football games, junior proms, and our first time in the backseat of a buddy’s SUV. But we weren’t ready for the real world. Or at least I wasn’t.”

“What happened next?”

I drag in a deep breath. “She married the boy next door—literally. They had two kids together. Last time I saw her, she wasn’t very happy.”

In fact, I remember the night my phone rang late. It was maybe three years ago. Laura wanted to get together for old times’ sake. She said she wanted to clear the air between us because she needed closure. I drove across the Valley and agreed to meet her for coffee near our old neighborhood. Two minutes into our reunion, she teared up and admitted that she was talking to an attorney about divorcing her husband. Apparently, she’d never gotten over me. With her marriage in shambles and my own life being devoid of a significant someone, I wondered if maybe I had never fallen in love because I was somehow hung up on Laura. So I kissed her—once. I had to know if something still simmered between us that I had simply overlooked. But I felt nothing. I never saw her again. I heard through the grapevine that she went through with her divorce.

“I’m sorry. And none of your other relationships have been serious?”

“No. I’ve been career building. I’ve dated a lot of women doing the same. Coupling up hasn’t been a priority.” When did this conversation become about me? We’re supposed to be learning each other. “How about you?”

“No one really serious.” She gives me a self-conscious smile. “Toward the end of my sophomore year, I gave my virginity to a really hot, popular senior, thinking that would show him how crazy I was for him. The experience was terrible, and the next day he went back to the girlfriend he’d broken up with the week before. Then I dated the class president of our rival high school as a senior. But he got accepted to Berkeley, and I was set to attend UCLA. They have a great dramatic arts program, as well as a killer film school. So we did the usual ‘I’ll see you during school breaks’ thing. But it wasn’t long before he had a girlfriend up north. I was too busy working to put myself through school, finding time for auditions, and keeping my grades up to do much more than casually date now and then. Since graduating a few years ago, it’s been more of the same—with a good exercise regimen thrown in. Trying to pay off student loans and keep the roof over my head is a full-time job, so guys have taken a backseat. Besides, have you met some of the men in Hollywood? Famous or not, they’re unreal.”

I laugh. “I assume they’re all about their looks?”

“Exactly. And I’m selective because I make it a policy never to date a guy who has better hair than I do.” She winks as if she realizes the mood in the car has gotten heavy and wants to lighten things up.

“Are you insinuating my hair isn’t as nice as yours?” I say in mock challenge.

“I’m congratulating you for not wearing a ton of product or sporting a man bun.”

“

Then it’s all good.” I pull off the road and into the parking lot of the restaurant. “For the record, what made you finally decide you should settle down and that I might be the one?”

It’s my sly way of asking her what, if anything, she likes about me. Sure, I could coach her on an appropriate reply. After all, I’m paying her to be my adoring new girlfriend. But, smart or not, I want to know what she thinks of me. It’s possible she doesn’t give a crap and has only taken this job for the money. But I’m hoping otherwise. For a reason I can barely fathom, I want her to want to be with me.

That thinking is dangerous. I have my whole life on the line.