Baiting the Maid of Honor

Hell. It wasn’t going to happen between them tonight.

Reed practically growled into the darkness. When the hell had he ever cared about being noble? She was a big girl, capable of making her own decisions. Yet he suspected if they slept together tonight, she would regret it in the morning. They barely knew each other. Their only association so far had been him making passes at her at every opportunity and arguing. She’d wake up tomorrow, a little sore and a lot sorry. For some reason, he couldn’t stand the thought of it. Gratification tonight wouldn’t be worth having her look back on him with regret. As the stranger she’d had a hot, sweaty one-night stand with, the one who had nothing in common with her. She would feel cheap and she would associate that feeling with him. No. He couldn’t do it.

Decision made, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to find out just a little more about her. They might part ways at the end of the week, but small talk had never actually killed anyone, right? Besides, he’d been curious about something since he first laid eyes on her. “Last night, when we met outside the restaurant, you looked stressed. Mind telling me what about?”

She moved beside him on the path, flashing him a look. “When you made your gentlemanly hair-pulling offer? I nearly fainted dead away at the sweeping romance of it all.”

“I would have caught you. By the hair, of course.” He circled his hand around her wrist, then fit their hands together as if it were natural for him to do so. It wasn’t, but he felt the ridiculous urge to put her at ease. “Still waiting on an answer.”

Julie merely sighed. “A work meeting that morning had made me late for my flight. There was a big”—she waved her free hand around as she searched for the right word—“hullabaloo over whether or not we should offer One-Eyed Jack at the New Orleans Saints stadium. You know, in those fancy air-conditioned suites? I’m sure you know the Saints are the biggest rivals of our dearly beloved Falcons, and Daddy doesn’t want our whiskey anywhere near them. No, sir. Thinks it’ll put a jinx on the Falcons.”

Reed hid his shock. He’d known Julie came from money, but the heir to One-Eyed Jack Whiskey? Holy shit. He’d had no idea. Not that it changed a damn thing. “And how did you manage to straighten out this little hullabaloo?”

She smirked at him. “I told Daddy I’d have him committed if he fought me on it. Can you imagine? Superstition has no place in the business world.”

“I thought all Southern girls were superstitious.”

“Oh, I am. Within reason. I would never invite thirteen guests to a dinner party. Or eat chicken on New Year’s Day. It’s just plain silly to tempt fate.”

“I see.” Reed realized he was smiling and shook his head to clear it. “So who is Serena?”

When her hand went stiff in his, he wanted to kick himself. Based on the phone call he’d overheard, he knew the subject was likely a touchy one. This is why he never made small talk. They walked in silence for a moment, then she turned to him with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Serena was my older sister. She passed a few years back.”

“I’m sorry.”

She nodded in acknowledgment as if she’d heard the words so many times they no longer held any meaning. He understood that too well. Growing up, he’d heard the same words countless times in reference to his own mother. After she’d died, he couldn’t go anywhere without having pity leveled at him from every direction, from people who’d never given him the time of day before. When the appropriate time limit for grief over her death had passed, they’d begun issuing “sorrys” for different things, as if the pity were transferable. They were sorry about his shabby lifestyle, living in a trailer on the outskirts of town. Sorry about his father’s gambling habit. Everything under the sun. Sorry, boy. Again, he recalled Julie’s words to her mother. The way she’d sounded so dejected as she’d spoken them, as if it were far from the first time. “If Serena was the perfect one, what does that make you?”

Julie kept walking, but the action looked involuntary. As if her legs were moving without her permission. “I think you’re aware I didn’t come out here with you for a heart-to-heart. Stop trying to make this personal. We’re not friends.”

Maybe that’s the problem. Reed banished the unbidden thought as quickly as it appeared. This desire to peel back her layers, to figure out what made her run like the Energizer Bunny, unnerved and confused him. “You came out here with me knowing how badly I want to be inside you. There’s nothing more personal than that.” Jesus. Since when?

She came to a stop, studied him. Her mask slipped just a little and he felt an answering tug in his chest. “Fine. Tell me how you got that horrible scar on your back and I’ll tell you why Serena was the perfect one. The one who never let my parents down. The one who was supposed to take over the business when Daddy retired. The one who died while I was off at college planning Hawaiian-themed dances and ice cream socials.”

Julie’s mouth snapped shut when she finished, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d revealed. When she turned and stomped off ahead of him, Reed quickly followed. Part of him wished for all the world he hadn’t pushed her. The other part, the greedy half, felt satisfaction over being privy to this hidden part of her. She didn’t put on her Princess of Hospitality act around him, didn’t hide her true self. Later, he’d try to figure out why, but right now all he could think of was taking the haunted expression off of her face. Unfortunately, in order to do that, he would have to reveal a part of himself to make them even.

“Bar fight.”

“Pardon?”

“The scar. I got knifed in a bar fight when I was nineteen.” She stopped and turned, meeting his eyes hesitantly. He hadn’t told anyone about the fight in a long time and suddenly the words wouldn’t come quite so easy. “I, uh…had started a fight in the bar over God knows what. It spilled out into the alley. Next thing I knew there were five of them.” He shrugged. “They were young and stupid like me. Didn’t realize what they were doing…so they left me there bleeding and ran off.”

Her gaze caressed his shoulder. “That’s an awful story.”

“Maybe. It’s also the best thing that ever happened to me.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I almost didn’t make it that night. Lost too much blood. I applied to the academy the day I was released from the hospital. If I have to die, I want there to be a purpose behind it.”

Julie looked at him in awe. “This has to be the least romantic moonlight walk in the history of moonlight walks, you know that?”

“Hate to disappoint, but I don’t have a romantic bone in my body.”

“You don’t say.” She sighed. “I know you were trying to make me feel better and it worked.”

“Because you like the idea of me getting stabbed?”

“No, even I’m not that bloodthirsty.” She tilted her head. “Because if you’ll tell that terrible story just to make me feel better, then you’re not half as bad as I thought.”

“I’m worse.”

She smiled, but it faded almost immediately. “Reed, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I don’t understand it either. We’re…attracted to each other. I won’t deny that. But I think we both known that is the extent of what we have in common. Let’s not make this something it isn’t.”

An odd feeling crept over him. He didn’t recognize it, even though her words had a ring of familiarity. Probably because he was usually the one to say them. To someone else. She wanted him for sex and nothing else. He should be backing her against a tree. Instead, he felt more determined than ever to prove her wrong.

…

Julie looked up into Reed’s face, confused by what she saw there. Irritation, conflict, and surprise all took their turn passing over his hard yet intensely handsome features until she nearly got dizzy trying to keep up. She’d actually mustered the courage to follow this potty-mouthed, tattooed stab wound recipient into the dark woods and now he refused to just put the darn moves on her already. Once he touched her, once their mouths met, she wouldn’t have any room to think. She required the distraction from her thoughts. Didn’t want to think of all the reasons she should be tucked safely in her hotel bed, eye mask firmly in place.

For one, she’d never had sex for the sake of sex. Usually, basic fondness or even genuine romantic interest was involved. How did one behave after a one-night stand? A handshake? An email address swap?

Two, she could easily be a big fat disappointment to him. She could count her partners on one hand and Reed…she suspected there weren’t enough hands at Beaver Creek Resort to match that impressive number.

Third, she was starting to understand him a little and that simply couldn’t happen. She didn’t want to feel anything for this man. He would chew up her good-girl butt and spit it out. Heck, he’d already bitten her there once, hadn’t he? Hard, too. Absentmindedly, she rubbed the spot on her bottom where he’d bitten her earlier, stopping when Reed arched an eyebrow.