Good Girl (Love Unexpectedly 2)

I follow her toward the front door, reaching for the door handle before she can, and automatically regret it because it makes this whole thing feel too much like a date.

We get a couple of looks as we step inside, the guys staring at Jenny’s legs, the girls at me before sliding their eyes to Jenny, sizing her up—noting the way my hand’s on the small of her back possessively.

Fuck.

How did that happen? I jerk my arm back.

Luckily, everyone’s far enough into their beer and whisky to not give Jenny a second look, not seeing the famous country star beneath the orange wig.

I spot Finn at a corner table, flirting with a cute black-haired waitress, and I lead Jenny that way.

Finn breaks off in the middle of a pickup line when he spots us, and I read “Fuck” on his lips a second before he smiles his usual easy Finn smile.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Ms.—”

“Smith,” Jenny says, with a quick look at the waitress. “Jen Smith.”

I all but roll my eyes. Smith? Really? Girl needs to step up her incognito game.

But the waitress doesn’t give Jenny a second look—she’s too busy making sure Finn gets a good view of her little tits in the visible black push-up bra beneath her white Gil’s tank top.

“Ms. Smith,” Finn says, with a little wink for Jenny as he slides over and pats the bench seat next to him.

To my surprise—and pleasure—she slides into the seat across from him instead. I take the spot next to her, careful not to touch her, but all too aware of her all the same.

Finn’s giving me a shit-eating grin, which I ignore by turning to the waitress. “Jack and Coke.”

The waitress snaps her gum and nods. “What’s for you, red?”

“Same,” she says.

I glance at her in surprise. A girl who drinks Jack and Coke? Damn.

“You good?” the waitress asks Finn.

He lifts his mostly full beer in confirmation.

She moves away, and Finn leans back slightly, his eyes moving between the two of us. “So. This is interesting.”

Jenny leans toward him, her expression eager. “Right? We’re so in love. You’ll be best man at the wedding, right?!”

Her voice is joking, cheerleader-hyper, and Finn barks out a surprised laugh at her sass, but his expression is nervous and he looks at me.

I know why.

Up until a few weeks ago, Finn was going to be my best man. Vaughn too.

At my wedding to a different woman.

I give the slightest shake of my head to indicate he should keep his mouth shut.

For a second he looks disappointed—in me—but he doesn’t rat me out. Instead he leans toward Jenny, matching her posture. “You know I’m the better catch, right? Caretaker here might have wood, but as an electrician, I know a little something about heat.”

She laughs. “That’s terrible. You can’t tell me that actually works on any girls.”

“Bet you twenty bucks our waitress comes home with me,” Finn says.

“Only if you repeat that lame line about the heat. Twenty bucks absolutely says she’s not letting you in your pants if you say that.”