“I do very well,” she says. “And aren’t you quite the gentleman?”
“Once a Southern gentleman, always a Southern gentleman. Especially in the presence of such a lovely, brilliant lady.” Yes, I’m all manners on the outside while on the inside I’m thinking, holy hell, I’ve already met my dream wedding hookup.
She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling too as she tosses a glance at Jillian. “I can’t believe you didn’t warn me about this one and his oodles of flirt.”
Jillian shrugs. “I didn’t realize Harlan would be in such rare form tonight.”
“What would you have liked to know?” I ask. “That I’m patently charming? Terrifically entertaining? Possess gobs of sexy, endearing, can’t-resist vibes? Also, I pour an excellent”—I stop to consider the bottles in the limo’s bar—“tequila, whisky, or vodka. Take your pick.”
“I’m a tequila girl,” Katie says, laughing. “And maybe warn a woman she has to keep up with a master charmer.”
“Sometimes surprises are fun.” I grab a glass and pour her a splash, then do the same for myself.
Jones and Jillian opt for water, and the four of us toast, our glasses clinking as Sinatra croons about the way you look tonight.
“To weddings, wingmen, and wingwomen,” I say, casting my gaze from Katie, to Jones and Jillian, then back to Katie. “And to new friends.”
Her eyes twinkle as she taps my glass one more time. “I’ll drink to all that, Mister Charmer.”
I knock back my liquor, and she does the same. I sigh happily at the turn the night has taken. “Have I mentioned I can dance too? It’s one of my many talents.”
“What are your others?” she asks with that firecracker sizzle. “Besides running, blocking, and tackling.”
Ah, she knows my skills. “I can catch a football too. Tie any kind of knot. And I can also bake pies like nobody’s business.”
She hums her approval. “I’ll be saving a dance for you.” She studies my face, the corner of her lips screwing up in a smile. “So please save one for me.”
Oh, I like weddings very much.
2
Katie
I am a woman on a mission.
I have a message to deliver to someone at this wedding, and I don’t intend to mince words.
That’s why I said yes to Jillian’s invite, and that’s all I expected I would do tonight.
Now, though, I’m thinking this event is going to be a whole lot more fun—thanks to Mister Dreamy Brown Eyes, who makes no bones about trying to charm my ass off.
A hunk of man in a tailored suit who’s quick with his tongue?
Let me order a double.
He’s precisely what I’ve been craving. I am done with bores and through with nitwits who can’t hold a conversation.
As we exit the limo, I set a hand on Harlan’s hard-as-iron bicep. “Nice guns,” I tell him as we walk to the swank entrance of the hotel overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
“Thanks. I had them polished today at the gym.”
I squeeze harder. I do love a firm body. “Well, I’d like to feel these arms when I take a spin on the dance floor with you.”
He flashes a megawatt smile at me as we head into the lobby. “Be my guest. I will be counting down the minutes until that dance.”
“Same here.”
He leans in close, dusts a kiss onto my cheek, and whispers, “I’ll save you twenty, sweetheart.”
My heart flutters. And so do my lady parts. His voice, his kiss, his body—his confidence. I do like a man who knows his mind and uses his mouth.
It’s been ages since I’ve had a decent date. My social life has fallen by the wayside these past few months while my sister and I have worked on our secret business plans. I’ve been mega busy juggling a day job and a burgeoning side hustle. Mornings and evenings, I grab any chance to teach extra yoga classes.
That means activities in the man department have been few and far between. The handful of dates I’ve snagged recently have been snooze-worthy.
Maybe that can change now.
Though, I don’t have much time for flirting. My sister’s flying up from Los Angeles tonight, and her plane gets in at eleven. But that still leaves a window for a dance or two. This gal will take what she can get.
Harlan turns into the row of seats, and I shamelessly check out his ass as he walks. There is just something about a man in a tailored suit, especially a man with a great butt. A butt I want to hold onto.
Stop, Katie Madigan, stop. You can’t think filthy thoughts in front of a preacher.
Unless that’s a justice of the peace up there, which I’m pretty sure it is. So, it’s totally permissible to be a bad girl. JPs don’t mind dirty minds during a wedding ceremony.
Harlan grabs a seat, then Jones sits next to him, then Jillian, and finally, I flank my bestie.