Proposal for the Wedding Planner

‘Me too.’ He let the fridge door close. ‘Want to use the bathroom first?’

It was a gentlemanly offer, and had the added advantage that Laurel looked so exhausted that if she got into bed first Dan was pretty sure she’d be passed out before he even managed to slip between the covers.

At least that way she wouldn’t notice if he couldn’t sleep at all.

As she locked the bathroom door behind her Dan took the opportunity to strip down to his boxers and a T-shirt. That was acceptable nightwear, right? Usually he didn’t bother, but he figured even sleepy Laurel would object to complete nudity when she woke up in the morning.

Sitting on the edge of the bed to wait his turn, Dan tried not to imagine what Laurel might be doing in there. Whether she was naked, most specifically. What she wore to bed. How she looked sleep-tousled, her hair loose around her shoulders...

It didn’t matter. She was off-limits.

As much as he might fantasise otherwise.

Finally she was done. She waved a hand to motion him towards the bathroom as she passed him, and before he could stand she’d already slipped under the covers—on the side of the bed he usually slept on. Fantastic.

Still, she looked so tired he couldn’t even object.

In the harsh light of the bathroom he stared into the mirror at his familiar old face and tried to convince himself that this wasn’t a big deal. So he was sharing a bed with a beautiful woman? So what? It wasn’t as if it hadn’t happened before. And he sure hoped it would happen again. Often.

So why was his heart hammering just a little too fast in his chest? And why did his hands shake as he reached for his toothbrush?

Okay, fine. He knew exactly why, and he couldn’t even claim it was all down to Laurel.

It was the Cassie thing.

But Laurel didn’t know that he hadn’t spent a full night in bed with another woman since his divorce—and she didn’t need to know. Yeah, it might feel a bit strange, but so what? This wasn’t romance, and it wasn’t love—they’d been clear about that, if nothing else. He wasn’t going to get his heart trampled on when Laurel looked around and found someone better.

This was platonic. All he had to do was keep his hands to himself for the night and it would all be fine.

Pep-talk over, he switched off the light and headed back into the bedroom, trying to be as silent as he could to avoid waking Laurel.

But to his surprise, when he settled under the covers, she murmured, ‘Goodnight,’ and he realised she wasn’t asleep at all.

‘Night, Laurel,’ he whispered back.

And then he lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to her breathe.

She wasn’t a heavy breather, at least. Her shallow breaths were barely audible, even in the stillness of the night. He waited almost without realising he was doing so for them to deepen, for her breathing to grow slow and steady, the way it did when a woman was sleeping. Usually it would be a signal that it was time for him to leave. Tonight...tonight maybe it would mean that he could sleep.

Except her breathing didn’t even out. It didn’t grow deeper.

Because she wasn’t sleeping.

Dan held in a sigh. One of them was going to have to cave and fall asleep first—and it wasn’t going to be him.

In which case... Well, since they weren’t sleeping anyway, they might as well get to know one another properly, at last.

CHAPTER FIVE

LAUREL STIFLED A sigh as Dan remained resolutely awake beside her in the darkness. He lay motionless under the covers, but even with her back turned to him she could tell that he hadn’t relaxed a single muscle. How was she supposed to sleep with the world’s tensest man in bed with her?

And why on earth was he so tense anyway? He was probably used to sharing a bed—a guy who looked as good as Dan did couldn’t be short of partners when he wanted them. She, on the other hand, hadn’t shared anything with anyone since she’d broken up with Benjamin—and even before that, he hadn’t stayed over for months. Well, not with her, anyway.

She was used to her own space. Used to spreading out starfish-style, in the bed. Used to not having to worry if she snored, or if her hair looked like bats had been living in it, or if she’d missed a bit of last night’s mascara which was now smeared across her cheek.

She was not used to having a big, gorgeous, untouchable man taking over her space.

‘Why are you scared of Melissa?’

And asking her difficult questions in the middle of the night.

Laurel’s body tensed at Dan’s words, and she forced herself to try and relax. ‘I’m not scared of her.’

‘Really?’

The covers rustled as Dan turned on his side, and Laurel could feel the movement of the mattress, of his body, even if she couldn’t see it. She stayed facing away from him, her eyes tightly closed, and hoped he’d give up. Quickly.

‘Really,’ she said firmly. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I’m trying to get to sleep.’

‘No, you’re not. You’re lying there wide awake, same as me.’ Dan shifted again, and the warmth of his body radiated out towards her as he grew closer.

Her eyes flew open. ‘What are you doing?’ Dan’s face loomed over her as she flipped onto her back.

‘Proving my point.’ He pulled back. ‘I’m not asleep...you’re not asleep. We should take advantage of this time to have that getting-to-know-you conversation we should have had before we decided to stage a fake relationship this week.’

‘You mean the primer we needed before we had to meet each other’s families?’ Laurel asked, eyebrows raised. Talk about shutting the barn door once the horse had stood around, drunk too much champagne and been vaguely insulting to everyone. Wait...that probably hadn’t been the horse...

‘So it’s a little late?’ Dan shrugged, pulling himself up to a seated position, his back against the headboard. ‘Doesn’t mean it’s not still wo

rthwhile. I mean, we have to spend the whole week with these people.’

‘Fooling them,’ Laurel agreed reluctantly. They really did need to talk. And if they didn’t do it now, goodness only knew when they’d get the time.

Dan obviously sensed her agreement. He patted the pillow beside him and she dragged herself up, tugging the slippery satin of her pyjama top with her to make sure she was still decently covered. The problem with curves like hers, she’d always found, was that they liked to try to escape, and normal clothes weren’t always built to stop them.

‘But you definitely get to start,’ she said as she settled herself down. It felt oddly intimate, talking in the darkness with Dan. ‘Everyone in the world already knows everything there is to know about my family and Melissa.’

‘Not everything,’ Dan said quietly.

His earlier question echoed through her brain again. ‘Why are you scared of Melissa?’

‘Enough to be going on with,’ she countered. ‘So, your turn. What’s the deal with your parents? Can’t cope with their sons not going into the family medical business?’

Dan shook his head slowly. ‘Not exactly, I don’t think. Partly, I’m sure. As you probably noticed, they don’t have all that much respect for what I do.’

‘Or what anyone does if it isn’t saving lives?’ Laurel guessed. ‘Except they’re not like that with Riley. Or are they?’

‘Riley’s always been different.’

His voice sounded rough, as if it carried the weight of a thousand slights, of a hundred times he’d not been as good. Laurel wondered for a moment if that was how Melissa had felt those first sixteen years.

She waited, silent in the dark, until he was ready to fill the void with his story.

‘Riley was always the golden boy, from the moment he was born. I was...eight, I guess, so old enough to remember life without him. Before him everything just seemed normal. Probably because I didn’t know anything else. But when Riley was born...’ He sighed. ‘He was their miracle boy. The baby they never thought they’d be able to have. The doctors had warned them, after they had me, that my mother might struggle. But you’ve met my parents. They don’t give up without a fight. And they love to celebrate their victories.’