Page 110 of The Spare
“If she likes it, she should wear it.” Xander smiled and looked at the ring. “But, honestly, I think she’d probably prefer the one you picked for her.” Xander sniffled and took a step back.
“Wait,” he said, handing the rings back to me. “Who’s going to be your best man?”
“She has to accept first.”
“She will,” they said in unison.
I hadn’t given much thought to my best man, having the ring and actual proposal to think about. I just assumed it would be Henry. Besides, no way in hell Sloan would let me have Xander.
“Who would be Sloan’s maid of honor? Or should I say man of honor?” Henry’s motive was transparent. “Because, if it’s not Xander, it would be Pene—”
“I don’t know, Henry. Who would Marcus prefer to plan her bachelorette party?”
My face fell into my open hands. Xander bounced between remarkably sincere and chaotic faster than most people blinked.
“When are you going to do it?” Henry mercifully changed the subject.
That part I already planned.
“Do what?” Sloan’s voice came through the hallways. I shoved the ring box back into my pocket, and the three of us tried to look casual. Why, all of a sudden, it became impossible—I’ll never know. Her eyes narrowed when she looked at us, knowing Henry and Xander weren’t expected here for a few hours. Neither of them were dressed for the event.
She walked a few more slow steps toward the couch. Her hair was up in an elegant bun, like it had been the night of the gala last year. “What?”
“Nothing.” Henry stood and looked at Xander. “We should go.”
“Did you do something with your hair?” Xander was notoriously bad at lying to Sloan, and he knew it. “Looks great.”
A few seconds later we heard the door close.
That left me to explain the bizarre exchange. “What did I walk in on?” she asked.
“Nothing. They just stopped by for a drink.”
She didn’t buy it. “I’ll get it out of you later.” She sighed, placed her purse on the end table, walked over to me, and threw her arms around my neck. "You know what I was thinking about earlier? Remember a year ago?"
The Hightower New Year’s Ball was an event I’d never forget. It was the night things shifted. "Do you?"
She laughed. I ran my hands around her waist and pulled her close. "You never told me what happened." Her eyes shimmered, and she brushed her lips against mine. “I know I wasn't a perfect lady."
No truer words were ever spoken. I thought about that night a lot, especially before Sloan and I got together. She didn't drink excessively, but she hardly ate anything. By the time we got to the town car, she was clearly intoxicated.
When we got back here, she was a little difficult to steer in the direction of the guest room. She insisted she wasn’t tired. Then, she complained that the dress was too tight, and instead of going to the guest room to take it off, she unzipped it and let it fall as she ascended the steps. That left only the lace thong and strapless bra she had worn underneath.
I watched for a moment, frozen in delighted disbelief. If there was any confirmation needed that Sloan felt the same as I did, at least physically, that night provided it.
Being a gentleman, I looked away. Being a living man, I only did so after a second of registering what I was looking at. I'd seen everything I needed to plague my dreams for months.
“Your dress.” I leaned my head against hers. “You took it off while you walked up the steps.”
Rose tinged her cheeks, and she smiled. I thought she remembered at least a part of that night. “What a gentleman.”
“You damn near killed me that night, Sloan,” I said with a chuckle. “It took every bit of restraint not to stare, let alone keep my hands off you.”
“Let me make it up to you?” Her hands moved down my chest to my waist. Her fingertips ran across the top of my belt. “When we get home tonight.” A disappointed groan rumbled up my throat. We had plenty of time before the party. “We can’t mess up my hair. It took two hours.”
“I’ll be gentle.”
“No, you won’t.” She giggled and pulled away from me. She grabbed the purse off the kitchen counter. “Besides, we can’t be late for Henry’s big night.”
