Page 30 of The Best Man Problem
“Lilly?” Her name came out shaky, because he was feeling damn shaky. The woman had that effect on him.
Her dark hair was mussed, clothing wrinkled, glasses slightly askew on her sharp nose. She adjusted her frames with a single finger, then pointed that finger at him.
“That did not happen.”
“Okay…” But it had.
Any further discussion was halted by her friends coming back, arms filled with bags.
“We got burritos from— Hey!” Mo stared in confusion as Lilly hurried past her. “Where are you going? We have food.”
Lilly stopped, her gaze swinging back to him. “I’m not hungry for food.”
She was hungry for him and not happy about it. He read that clearly in her gaze.
“I need some air.” And with that, she stormed out the office door and was gone.
“Okay.” Pru headed to the back desk, setting her bag on it and taking food containers out. “That was weird.”
You could say that again.
Mo made her way to Lilly’s desk, giving him a soft smile. “You’ll have to be patient with her. She’s not used to being attracted to a guy she considers off-limits. It’s kind of messing with her head.”
Fair enough—she was messing with his head.
“But, Lincoln?”
He tore his gaze away from the door where Lilly had stormed out and focused on her friend. Mo’s smile slipped, a deadly calm entering her honey brown eyes.
“If you hurt her, I’m going to make you a special batch of my nonna’s laxative brownies. Got it?”
He nodded. He got that—solidarity in friendship and all—but her friend had him and Lilly all wrong. They were about the physical connection, not an emotional one. Right? He thought he’d been pretty open with Lilly about what he could give to a woman, but maybe he should clear the air again. Maybe she was resisting so much because she thought he wanted more of a commitment—which he sure as hell did not—and worried what would happen when everything went south.
Nothing would go south, because Lincoln didn’t want more than another night or two, or twenty, in Lilly’s bed. She wanted the same, right? His stomach tensed. Maybe he should take a step back from all this until he and Lilly had a real talk about what they wanted. Of course, that would mean the woman would have to sit down and actually have a conversation with him without either biting his head off or kissing the daylights out of him.
Chapter Nine
Three days after Lilly lost her freaking mind and kissed Lincoln in her office, she stood in the large ballroom of Enchanted Dance. The locally owned dance studio catered to everyone, from toddlers all the way up to adults. The sisters who owned and ran the studio for the past three decades provided classes in many styles of dance, from tap to ballet, hip-hop to belly dancing, and, of course, ballroom.
Mile High Happiness had worked out a contract with the studio to provide a free class to all their couples. It benefited both companies. They were able to offer their brides and grooms a free dance lesson, something most people jumped at when they were preparing for a formal event where the first dance tended to be a big thing, and the studio saw a boost in enrollment, as many couples signed up for a few more classes to polish their moves for the big day.
Tonight, the class was filled with various couples, Kenneth and Marie, a few members of their wedding party, and her. Normally Lilly didn’t attend the free dance night, but Marie had insisted she come, and she was finding it hard to resist anything the sweet bride requested. Which was why she found herself in her favorite yellow sundress, smiling as she watched her clients try to waltz across the dance floor. Poor Kenneth had two left feet and kept stepping on Marie’s toes, but the woman didn’t seem to mind. If the smile on her face was any indication, Marie thought her fiancé hung the sun and moon. Who would mind a little toe smashing with a guy who could do that?
Her gaze wandered the crowd of dancers on the floor, landing on a certain man who inspired something a bit more earthy than the deep, abiding love she spied between Kenneth and Marie.
Lincoln Reid. Lust inspirer.
Heat still rose on her cheeks whenever she thought of the brazen way she’d pushed him against her office wall and taken his mouth. It hadn’t been a gentle kiss. No softness or romance, but a demanding claim of her body declaring she wanted more. Even though her mind knew it was a bad idea.
Bad decisions make great stories.
Her roommate’s favorite saying. But Mo didn’t have to deal with Lilly’s bad decision or the raging case of need it awakened in her. Dammit! She never should have kissed Lincoln. Again. The man was a potent keg of sexual dynamite. How could she have forgotten that one touch only made her crave more? She blamed her weakness on the constant nearness. But that was a lie. Even when she had zero contact with the man, she still wanted him, dreamed about him, desired him.
Unfortunately, the man in question harbored no such difficulties where she was concerned, if his current situation was anything to judge by. Something dark and ugly and suspiciously close to jealousy burned in her gut as Lilly watched Lincoln dance with the maid of honor, laughing at something the small, delicate woman said.
Not fair. Lilly wasn’t one to judge another woman on her appearance. Besides, Lincoln was a few inches taller than her, until she put heels on. At five foot eight, she towered over most women and a number of men she’d dated. It never bothered her, but many of her dates called it quits the moment she rose from the table. She was a tall woman who liked even taller heels, so what? She didn’t mind being taller than her date; unfortunately, many of them minded being shorter than her.
“Excellent form, Mr. Reid,” Piper Phelps, one of the owners and tonight’s instructor, praised Lincoln. “You must have taken dance before.”
