The Right Mr. Wrong

How many more times did he have to say no?

He wasn’t a part of the Michael family, had never been welcomed. And at the age of thirty-two he wasn’t going to start pretending now.

‘Of course we want you there,’ Reese said. ‘You’re my brother—’

‘Half brother,’ he said bluntly, knowing he sounded callous and trying to care. ‘With emphasis on the half.’

Amber briefly touched the back of his hand and flashed him a disapproving look, and he chose to ignore the warning and the stimulating warmth of her touch, the fleeting feel of soft fingers. Reese eyed him warily. As if, after knowing him forever, she was still trying to figure him out.

Yeah, well...good luck with that one. He was still working on that himself.

‘Listen,’ he said. ‘I’m happy that you’re happy that you and that fiancé of yours are finally tying the knot.’ He did his best not to scoff out loud. ‘Not that I believe in the whole marital thing. But you know, to each his—or her—own delusion.’

‘Parker,’ Reese said gently, and he hated the worried look in her eyes. ‘Love isn’t a delusion.’

‘Oh, yeah?’ Parker screwed up his face, hoping he looked more doubtful than like the caustic bastard that Jessica had called him before breaking it off. After four months, a real record for him, it was almost a relief to have her gone. ‘If I remember right—’ he studied his sister ‘—you’ve pledged ‘till death do you part’ before.’

Amber’s fingers returned to his wrist, gripping him hard. The contact briefly short-circuited his brain, bringing to mind better reasons she could be holding on to him so tight.

Not your type, Robinson. Not your type.

He discreetly pulled his wrist from Amber’s clasp. ‘Mason was your ex’s name, wasn’t it?’ Parker said, lifting a brow at his sister.

Pink staining her cheeks at the mention of her first husband, Reese ignored his comment. ‘Being in the wedding doesn’t mean you’re endorsing the institution.’

He plowed a hand through his hair, not caring if it stuck out in all directions. ‘Reese—’

‘Please,’ she said, her face the picture of sincerity. ‘You’re family.’

Every muscle in his gut tensed with the hit. As far as he was concerned, his family died the day his father had passed away.

And the void that had started with his mother’s you were a mistake had grown through the years, only to expand to unbelievable depths the day his dad had died. Since then he’d felt numb, as if nothing touched him. Detached. A black hole that threatened to consume everything.

Amber shifted slightly on her feet, and his eyes went of their own volition to land, again, on the pretty tagalong from his youth. She pressed closer until their shoulders brushed, a distracting touch. But she was giving him an emphatic stare that screamed Don’t you dare break her heart.

Because Reese didn’t deserve it, not really.

It had taken him years as an adult to realize that his sister wasn’t responsible for the way their mother had treated him. That Reese’s precious-princess status in the Michael household was her parents’ doing, and not his sister’s. She’d been a clueless, pampered kid adored by her mom and dad. And wasn’t that the way life was supposed to work?

But Parker Robinson wasn’t a fake.

He puffed out a breath. At this point, he was just gonna have to let her be disappointed when he didn’t show up for the Big Day.

‘I told you,’ Parker told his sister. ‘Dylan needs to pick someone else for his fifth groomsman.’

* * *

Parker headed for the elevators, and Amber spied the crestfallen look on Reese’s face.

‘He’s never going to say yes,’ Reese said.

Amber hated seeing her so down. Helping her childhood friend plan her dream day—complete with a reunion with her three college roommates as bridesmaids—was vital. Because she’d watched Reese work hard at her marriage to Mason, had seen how devastated she was when it failed. It had been painful to watch her friend suffer. Reese deserved her happily ever after with Dylan.

‘Parker will say yes,’ Amber said. ‘Because deep down he knows you care about him.’

‘You care about him, too,’ Reese said with a knowing look in her eye.

Her stomach lurched. ‘That was a long time ago.’

‘And you’re both grown-ups now,’ her friend said, tone riddled with subtext.

Shooting Reese a look, Amber said, ‘Anyone who chooses to get involved with Parker is a glutton for punishment.’ She cast an eye at the man as he waited for the elevator. ‘And I don’t chase men.’

‘No,’ Reese said with a sigh. ‘You just sit back and let life pass you by.’

‘Hey,’ Amber protested. ‘Romance will happen when it’s good and ready.’

Her mom had always said loving her father had been easy. Reese and Dylan’s relationship always looked effortless, too. They were the perfect couple. Amber’s other friends chased love as if it were something to be hunted down and captured, torturing themselves in the process. Amber knew when she met the right man, love would happen naturally.

Until then, she’d help others plan their perfect day.

Reese let out a hunh. ‘Maybe you should be more proactive in getting what you want.’

‘Listen,’ Amber said, changing the subject. ‘I’ll talk to Parker about the wedding.’ Amber gave her friend a hug. ‘You go find Dylan and enjoy the rest of the party, okay?’

Heart pounding, Amber followed in Parker’s path. But who was she, really, to try to convince Parker Robinson of anything?

The elevator doors were beginning to shut, and Amber picked up her pace and slid inside just before they closed.

Tension bounced off the walls, making the space feel especially small.

Parker sent her an overly tolerant look. ‘Did Reese send you to try to change my mind?’

‘No,’ Amber said truthfully. She knew she needed to ease her way into this conversation. Years of resentment weren’t going to be undone with a one-minute elevator ride. ‘I was hoping you could give me a lift home.’

He straightened up and stared at her.

‘Are you coming on to me?’ he said. There was no seductive tone. He actually sounded amused by the thought.

Amber sent him a disgusted look she didn’t feel. And why did he find the idea funny? ‘No,’ she said. ‘Will you give me a ride, anyway?’

‘I’ll give you a ride because you’re not coming on to me,’ he said. Before she had time to process the unsatisfying words, Parker pushed the button and went on.

‘Where do you live?’ he asked.

‘In a loft above my shop,’ she said. ‘Down under the Manhattan Bridge overpass.’

An emotion she couldn’t quite place swept up his face. ‘I would have thought Reese wouldn’t be caught dead in a shop anywhere other than on Fifth Avenue itself.’

Affection flared across her heart. Reese’s wedding to Dylan Brookes was one of the social events of the year. The Michaels and the Brookeses were two of the most prominent families in the city. Handling the account was going to put her shop on the map, and she would forever be grateful for her friend’s business and her trust.

‘Reese has changed,’ Amber said as they exited the elevator. She knew that better than anybody. ‘I know she was a little oblivious as a teen...’

Parker chuckled at the understatement, though there was no malice in the sound.

They entered the lobby and Parker held the door open for her, and Amber passed through onto the busy, nighttime sidewalk. Traffic whooshed by, the smell of rain heavy in the air.

‘Honestly, I don’t care how much she’s changed.’ And as he gave his ticket to the valet, he shot Amber a sharp look. ‘I’m not convinced this thing with her and Dylan is even real.’

‘You’re just cynical about relationships in general,’ Amber said with a small scoff. ‘Everyone knows they’re perfect for each other.’

‘Regardless,’ Pa

rker said. ‘I’m not going to be in her wedding.’

Heart shifting lower in her chest, Amber curled her fingers in her hand, determined to change his mind by the end of the ride home.

No matter what it took.

THREE

‘What is this?’ Amber asked when the valet pulled up with Parker’s car.

‘This,’ Parker said, unable to hold back his grin of affection, ‘is a 1967 Ford Mustang Fastback with a 390 cubic-inch, V-8 engine.’

Face blank, she stared at him.

‘She’s fast and she’s furious and she’s as badass as me,’ he said, knowing the response it would produce. And so what if he enjoyed the roll of Amber’s eyes. He blamed the small slice of pleasure for the words that slid from his mouth next. ‘It belonged to my father.’

A look of tenderness leaped into her eyes and his chest clenched hard, the black hole cinching tight around his heart.

Stretching out her arm, as if to take his hand, she said, ‘I’m sorry—’