Page 49 of The Best Man Problem
Stupid fashion industry. Lilly could admit she had a thing for stylish clothes and designer shoes, but it pissed her off the way guys could put on an outfit without a thought and women had to match style, pattern, color. They had to wear layers because God forbid they make any type of top or dress that wasn’t constructed of such sheer fabric your bra and panties showed with even the barest of backlighting.
“Okay, but don’t you have to do other things?”
He arched a brow. “Like what?”
“Wash up, manly bonding time?” She gestured vaguely at his face. “Shave?”
A large palm came up to scrape against the scruffiness on his jaw. The sound hit her ears, causing every inch of her body to come alive with need. Oh hell, this was going to be the longest wedding ever.
“You don’t like my beard?”
It wasn’t much of one. More like nicely trimmed scruff. She lived in Denver, hipster central. She’d seen men who could braid their beards, men who hung Christmas bulbs in their beards—once a guy even had a tiny lizard sitting in his nest of a beard. That was a weird one. Even for Denver.
“It doesn’t matter what I like. It’s about what Kenneth and Marie want for their day.”
His lips split in a wide, knowing grin. “So you do like my beard?”
His eyebrows bobbed, but she chose to ignore him, focusing intently on her clipboard even though she’d double-checked everything on her list.
Lincoln threw his head back and laughed, the sound booming out of him, echoing in the large, high-ceiling room.
“Not to worry, Ms. Walsh. Marie and Kenneth gave me the all clear for the beard. They don’t care what I look like as long as I’m here, and I’m currently right here because Ken is having his pre-wedding freak-out shower. Which means he’s taking a long, very cold shower to calm his nerves while singing every Strokes song at the top of his lungs. Badly.” He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled. “I had to escape for fear my eardrums would burst and I wouldn’t hear my cue to walk down the aisle.”
She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand as she realized she was laughing about her client stressing when it was her job to make sure he didn’t.
“Oh no.” She removed her hand, unable to wipe the smile from her face. “Is he okay? Does he need anything?”
Lincoln shrugged. “Just to marry the love of his life. I can’t tell who’s more excited for today, Kenneth or Marie. I think if it weren’t for their families insisting on celebrating this joyous occasion, they would have run off to the courthouse the minute Marie said yes. Kenneth said he can’t wait to start their forever.”
“The best kind of love feels that way.” At his curious stare, she shrugged. “Or so I’ve heard.”
He watched her for a long moment, gaze contemplative. She shifted under his scrutiny, wishing she knew what was going on in his mind. What had put that odd look on his face?
“You ever been in love, Lilly?”
Crap! The problem with having a job revolving around love and happily ever afters was everyone eventually asked her if she had experienced love. While she’d had a few boyfriends she cared for and one disaster of a relationship where she discovered she was the other woman—hello, shame and humiliation—she’d never truly been in love. Because she didn’t really believe in love—at least, not for her. Something she could never tell anyone associated with her business.
Lincoln stood there, hazel eyes staring deep into hers, as if he could see her soul. Pick out every lie, every misdeed. But not to judge; no, Lincoln wasn’t like that. He liked to solve problems. She guessed as a computer guy that was kind of his job. But she wasn’t his problem to figure out.
“No.” She kept it simple, turning the question around to get the pressure off her. “How about you? Ever been in love?”
His eyes shuttered, face going blank as he shut down all emotion. He turned to stare out the window with a clenched jaw. He was silent so long she thought he might not answer, but then he said, “I thought I was. Once. But it turned out to be nothing even close to that.”
His expression might not give anything away, but she could hear the hurt in his voice. The anger. Whatever happened to Lincoln obviously caused him pain, and she ached for him.
“I’m sorry.”
She reached out to touch his arm, but suddenly he came alive, turning to her with a falsely bright smile plastered on his face. She’d gotten to know the man fairly well over the past few weeks, and he was genuine through and through. But not now. Not this smile. It wasn’t a happy one, but one that was meant to cover up his real feelings, to close a subject. A subject he started, she might point out.
“I better get back to the anxious groom. Any more cold water and he might be too shriveled up to perform his husbandly duties tonight.” He bobbed his brow.
Knowing better than to push a subject neither of them seemed all that eager to discuss, she rolled her eyes. “Classy, Lincoln. Very classy.”
“Hey, I’m a classy guy.” He leaned in with a grin, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “If I wasn’t, I’d tell you how absolutely fuckable you look in that dress.”
She felt the barest brush of his lips against the sensitive spot on her neck just below her ear. A shiver of anticipation ran up her spine. After tonight, he’d no longer be off-limits. Could she really do this? Start a sexual relationship with a man she knew wasn’t a good match for her? Let her body take control and keep her heart out of it?
His tongue came out to gently stroke along her pulse point as his teeth closed down with a sharp, tiny love bite. Her knees weakened, all the blood rushing between her legs at the sensual move.
