The Best Man's Plan

Just hearing her name on his lips sent her over the edge. She was unable to speak coherently enough to say his name in return, but it echoed in her mind as she floated on waves of sensation.

Bryan was the first to be able to move again, though she couldn’t have said how much time had passed before he did so. With a slight groan, he shifted to roll onto his back beside her, relieving her of his weight. She wouldn’t have minded if he’d stayed awhile longer.

Scooping her against him with his right arm, he settled her into his shoulder, his other hand stroking her side, soothing her as she tried to steady her pulse and her breathing. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice a rough growl.

“I’m fine,” she managed to say, though her tongue still felt thick and unresponsive. “Your arm?”

It seemed to take him a moment to understand the question, and then he replied, “Feels great. Just like the rest of me.”

She didn’t quite believe that he felt no discomfort at all after using his arm so strenuously, but she wouldn’t press him about it. She supposed he would tell her if he’d done any lasting damage. Maybe.

The extremely eventful day seemed to be catching up with her. She was suddenly so tired she could barely hold her eyes open. A yawn escaped her before she could stop it.

Bryan laughed softly and dropped a kiss on her temple. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured. “Don’t feel obligated to stay awake for my benefit.”

“Mmm.” She snuggled her face into the pillow when he slid out from beneath her.

She felt him return to the bed a short while later, but she didn’t rouse enough to try to speak to him. She needed to escape into sleep just then—away from the emotions left over from her sister’s wedding and from the tumultuous passion she had just shared with Bryan.

She could handle everything, she assured herself. She could move on with her life, get back to the way things had been, emerge unscathed from the events of the past few weeks.

But first she needed some rest. She fell asleep with her cheek on his shoulder and his arms around her. Just this one night, was her last coherent thought before blessed oblivion claimed her.

Even still half-asleep, Grace sensed that there was a reason she didn’t want to open her eyes Sunday morning. She burrowed deeper into the covers, trying to cling to sleep a little while longer, but something felt wrong. She always slept in an oversized T-shirt and panties, never naked. She wasn’t wearing a stitch now.

With a low moan, she finally opened her eyes, squinting against the sunlight filtering through the curtains. She was alone in her bed, thank goodness. She hadn’t heard Bryan leave, but he must have slipped out sometime during the night. Whether it was to give her some privacy this morning, or because he hadn’t wanted to be stranded here today with nothing to wear but a rumpled tuxedo, she couldn’t have said, but she was glad she didn’t have to face him just yet.

It chagrined her to realize that her bed felt suddenly big and empty without him in it. After only one night. It was just as well that there wouldn’t be any more.

She didn’t bother berating herself for her actions last night. She thought of that decision with a sense of inevitability. They had been moving toward that step ever since she had agreed to pose temporarily as his love interest. Call it curiosity or propinquity or a monumental lapse in judgment, but she had known it would happen eventually. Just as she’d known that once they had satisfied their curiosity—or whatever it was—they would have to move on in separate directions.

She didn’t spend a long time brushing her teeth, showering or pulling her damp hair into a low ponytail, but she didn’t waste a minute. She used that time to pull her composure together, lecture herself about keeping her feelings under control, and rehearse the things she would say next time she spoke to Bryan.

She would be calm, collected and courteous as she explained to him that last night had been very nice, but it wasn’t going to happen again. Their lives were too different—they were too different—to maintain even a casual relationship. And as for anything else—that was entirely out of the question.

Not that she really believed he was considering anything permanent. She knew about that infamous list of his, and she was well aware that she met very few of his qualifications for a mate.

Dressed in a short T-shirt and low-slung jeans, her feet bare, she headed for the kitchen.

The sight of Bryan standing in the sunlight streaming through the window over her kitchen sink drove most of her carefully practiced words from her mind. The sizzling smile he gave her effectively erased the rest of them.

Chapter Fourteen

“I brought breakfast,” Bryan said, motioning toward a fragrant-smelling bakery bag on the table. “And I just started the coffee.”

She cleared her throat. “I thought you’d left.”

“I did for a while. Ran home and showered and changed,” he said, motioning toward his polo shirt and jeans. He’d left the bandage off this time, and while she could still see the reddened, burned areas on his forearm, they already looked much better than they had the last time she’d seen them.

She moved toward the cabinet where she stored coffee mugs, pulling two of them out to give herself something to do while she reminded herself of all the sensible things she’d intended to say to him. She only hoped she didn’t forget them again, she thought as he advanced on her with a gleam in his eyes.

“Do you realize that y

ou haven’t even given me a smile yet—much less a good-morning kiss?” he asked.

She smoothed her hands down her jeans. “I, uh…”

He leaned over to plant a firm kiss on her mouth. “Now how about the smile?” he asked when he drew away.