Random Acts of Marriage (Wedding Favors) Page 4

  Her glower deepened as she took a step back. “What are you doing?”

  “Sorry.” He lowered his hand. “You just looked so serious.”

  The tension around her mouth and eyes relaxed, but the stiffness in her stance didn’t. “Like I said, it’s my biggest flaw.”

  “It’s not a flaw, but some situations don’t warrant so much concentration.” He glanced back at the chart. “Look, most of these people will be up and mingling, so seating is only important for the first hour. Plus, we’ll be eating, so anybody sitting here will be happy because they’ll be served first.”

  She nodded, her gaze skating over the chart. After a few seconds she picked up the scraps of paper and began placing them. He kept his mouth shut, watching her work as she mentally sorted and categorized everybody.

  After another minute she held up a single square. “Jeremy, Roxy’s thirteen-year-old cousin. Where do I put him?”

  A sly smile inched across Price’s face, and he pointed to a spot at a table the next row over. “Right here.”

  Her mouth pulled into a slight frown. “Why there?”

  “Well, having been a thirteen-year old boy once, there is no other place I’d rather be than between Suzanne and Wendy O’Connor.”

  “But they’re in college. They won’t have anything to talk about.”

  “I doubt polite conversation is what Jeremy will be thinking about.” He gave a grunt of laughter and shook his head. “Trust me, sitting between two amply endowed college girls is the best gift you could give a pubescent boy.”

  “I don’t know if I should be grateful or horrified by the suggestion.” Despite her statement, she shifted a couple more seats around and then plopped Jeremy between the sisters. Standing back, she eyed the chart. “That should work.” She turned to him. “Thanks for the help.”

  “My pleasure.” Even though he knew exactly what time it was, he casually glanced at his watch. “Looks like it’s quitting time. Are you hungry?”

  “God, no.” Slowly she curled the edge of the seating chart and rolled it up. “I’m still full from lunch.”

  “How about a drink, then? I hear there’s a great bar downstairs.”

  “Really?” She dropped the rolled paper into a cardboard tube. “I heard it wasn’t that good.”

  “Really?” Damn, he owned the hotel and everything inside, including the bar. “You heard that?” Only the tiniest tug at the corner of her mouth told him she was joking. “Ahhh, you got me again. It’s tough to tell when you’re teasing. Maybe we should go to Vegas. You’ve got a killer poker face.”

  “At least my seriousness has some redeeming qualities.”

  They walked to the door, and he held it open for her. “Oh, you have many redeeming qualities.”

  She turned to face him, catching him eye-guzzling her rear end. Her gaze narrowed. “Meaning?”

  Well, he’d just stepped fully into it. His usual suggestive comment about her looks might come off as offensive. In the short time they’d spent together, he found conversations a bit like traversing a minefield—invigorating, but one wrong step could blow up everything. He gave her his most charming smile and guided her toward the elevator. “Meaning, you’re smart, beautiful, and a very good friend.”

  “You were staring at my ass.”

  Damn, she wasn’t letting him off easy. “Like I said, you’re beautiful and your ass happens to be part of that.” She pulled to a stop and glowered at him, a look he was becoming all too familiar with. He faced her and sighed. “All I meant was that you’re pretty.” He waved his hand up and down, indicating her body. “All of you.”

  A few seconds of silence ticked by, as if she was weighing his compliment. Finally, she said, “Thank you.” She took a step but stopped. “And, yes, I would enjoy having a drink with you.”

  With that, she strode past him. Price slowly pivoted, watching her walk to the elevator. “Great,” he said, letting his eyes drift back to her rear end.

  …

  She could practically feel the heat of his gaze, and dare she admit that she liked it? All her efforts to analyze Price, and the way he made her feel, had come up empty. He didn’t make sense in her neatly ordered world, and yet after only a few hours with him she could feel herself succumbing to his charms. That had to be it—his salesman magnetism made him likable. That’s all she was experiencing right now. It wasn’t the fact that he hadn’t been bothered by her personality. It wasn’t because he’d been kind by offering one of his conference rooms and helped her figure out the seating chart. And it definitely wasn’t the way his green eyes held her gaze, giving her his full attention and making her feel like there was nobody else in the room. Or that he’d said she was beautiful. No, none of those were the reason he made her heart skip a beat. It was simply his salesmanship skills. He probably made everybody feel special.

  They chatted on the way to the ground floor, each standing against the back wall and facing forward. It was easier not to look at him. The elevator doors slid open, and she led the way to the lounge. “Where do you want to sit?”

  “How about over here?” he asked.

  He placed his hand against her back, again guiding her forward. Instantly, heat spread across the skin under her shirt, and her mouth went dry. Instead of removing his hand once they started walking, he kept it there until they reached the small two-person table. Only then did he lower it to pull out a chair for her. She set the cardboard tube against the wall and sat. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll get us some drinks.” He stood next to her—too close. “What would you like?”

  “A glass of merlot, please.”

  “You got it.”

  She couldn’t help watching him as he made his way to the bar. Appreciation bloomed inside her. Even though he seemed to play a lot, there was no doubt he ran a successful hotel. And he didn’t quite fit the rich-kid stereotype she’d lumped him into before today. He seemed too down-to-earth, not stuck-up. Not that all rich people were stuck-up; Roxy and Kyle certainly weren’t. It was logical that their friends wouldn’t be, either. She’d just assumed Price was the exception in their friend equation, the one person whose penchant for fun outweighed being born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

  When he rested his elbows against the edge of the bar, his shirt pulled tight against his back, displaying an impressive array of contoured muscles. She took a deep breath meant to reestablish her logic and calm. Maybe it would have worked if he hadn’t turned and given her a smile that transformed him from cute to downright adorable. She quietly cleared her throat and returned a half smile.

  What in the hell was wrong with her? They were friends, and even that was stretching it a bit. No, just no. It would never work out. He was totally wrong for her. Completely unpredictable and scattered. In typical Kinni fashion, she clamped on to the one thing that never failed her—logic. It wasn’t rational for her to be attracted to him, therefore there must be an outside reason. The wedding. The stress. The favor. By the time Price had made his way from the bar to the table, she’d conjured three valid and logical reasons for her unexpected reaction to him. Now armed with an answer, she felt vindicated that it wasn’t her fault. Quite the opposite. With all the stress of the wedding, not to mention trying to find a job, it was natural that she’d be attracted to somebody who was being nice to her. It wasn’t Price, per se; it could have been anybody.

  “One merlot.” He handed her the glass.

  “Thank you.” She took a fortifying drink and set it down. “What are you having?”

  The glass he held up contained a yellowish liquid with bits of green floating on top. “It’s called a Basil Bomber. I’m not sure what all is in it, but I think there’s grapefruit juice, triple sec, and cucumber vodka.” He swirled the drink. “Obviously basil.” His eyes cut to her. “Want to try it?”

  “No.” She shook her head. The last thing she needed was to mix her booze. “Wine is fine.”

  “I haven’t drunk from it yet.” He held the gl
ass out to her. “No cooties.”

  “Thanks, but vodka and I don’t mix.”

  He shrugged and took a sip. “Damn, that’s good. I need to give Rob, my bartender, a raise.”

  Sifting through their previous conversations, she latched onto something he’d said to Jonathan Lawson. “Did I hear you say you’re visiting your parents tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.” He grinned and nodded. “It’s their thirtieth wedding anniversary.”

  “Wow, that’s fantastic.” For some reason she’d just assumed his parents were divorced. A twinge of shame dug at her. “Are they having a big party?”

  Laughter rumbled from him. “Oh yeah. The Lyon clan doesn’t know any other way.” He sobered. “Hey, do you want to come with me?”

  “Where? To your parents’ anniversary?” The offer had come out of the blue, cutting off any quick and diplomatic comeback. “It’s nice of you to offer, but—”

  “Come on. It will be fun.” He took another drink, his stare unwavering.

  There was the f-word again—fun. Each time somebody said “fun” it prickled against her like itchy wool. Why was everybody obsessed with having fun?

  “I can’t. I need to run errands.” She gave him a tight-lipped grimace meant to be apologetic. “They can’t wait.” Shaking her head, she picked up her wineglass and took a long drink before setting it down again. “Sorry.”

  “What errands? Maybe I can help.”

  “I don’t think so.” Now that Roxy had taken away her wedding responsibilities, the only thing she had to do was pick up a few things for the bachelorette party she’d planned. “It’s girl stuff.”

  “I love girl stuff,” he said overenthusiastically. “I could pick you up, we could knock out your girlie things, and then we could stop by the party.” His green eyes sparkled and his eyebrows lifted in question, as if he’d given her the final Jeopardy answer. “It’s a win-win situation.”

  Excitement wasn’t the word she’d use to describe his expression. More like mischievous. “I can’t, but thanks.”

  His smile drooped to a half frown. “Okay, but you don’t know what you’re missing.”

  She was fairly certain she did. First would be an embarrassing day of shopping for penis-oriented paraphernalia, followed by a painful night of mingling with the upper crust, people she had nothing in common with. A lot of name-dropping and posturing. She’d rather eat her hand. “Well, thanks for the wine, but I need to get home.” Not waiting for him to spout another reason she should stick around, she stood. “And thanks for the use of the conference table. And thanks for lunch. It was…educational.”

  “And fun?” He asked, standing.

  “Yeah, sure, fun.” She’d say whatever it took to get back to the peace and quiet of her apartment. She retrieved the seating chart. “Have fun tomorrow night.”

  “I will.” He followed her to the entrance of the hotel and proceeded out the door. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “That’s not necessary. I’m just parked over there.” She pointed to the hotel lot. “And it’s still light out.”

  “It’s a safety issue.” As was becoming usual, he placed his hand on her back and guided her forward. “It’s a courtesy we provide for our guests.”

  “I’m not a guest.”

  “No, but you’re a friend.” He lowered his hand, the warm spot instantly cooling. “I’d hate for you to be molested in my parking lot.”

  “Does that happen often?”

  “No, but I’d hate for you to be the first.” His fingers resettled on her waist and didn’t drop until they reached her car. “See, safe and sound.”

  “Yes, thank you.” She pulled the keys out of her purse. “I don’t know how I would have made it those fifty yards.”

  “You’re welcome.” He gave her the cocky grin she was used to, the one that defined typical Price.

  Shaking her head, she unlocked the door. A smile tugged at her lips. The man was charming, no doubt about it. He stepped away when she swung the door open, but didn’t leave.

  Go back to the hotel, weirdo.

  After closing the door, she shoved the key into the ignition with more force than she’d intended, pinching her finger. Repressing a curse, she bit her bottom lip and turned the key. The engine ground several times, but didn’t start.

  No, not now. Don’t do this to me now.

  The heat of Price’s gaze bored into the side of her head. Why didn’t he go back to the hotel instead of watching her abomination of a car humiliate her? Again she flicked the starter, but all the car managed were several hollow clicks. It couldn’t even manage a sputter. The urge to beat her head against the steering wheel surged through her. Instead, she stared out the front window. He was still there, just staring at her, probably enjoying her situation.

  A tap on the window sounded a few seconds later. With a heavy sigh, she slowly turned to look at him.

  There he was, smiling at her. “Problems?” he shouted, as if she couldn’t hear him through the window.

  “Obviously.” She popped the hood and got out of the car. Sometimes wiggling some of the cables would make it start, but since she’d run the battery down, she’d need a jump as well. No matter what, she’d have to get it fixed, and that was going to cost her money she didn’t have. But without a vehicle, she be relegated to running errands by bus, and what was she to do about the bachelorette party? Who would be designated driver now? “Is it all right to leave this here until I can get a tow truck to pick it up?”

  “You don’t need a tow truck.” Before she could argue with him, Price pulled out his phone. “Hey, Jack, it’s Price. I’ve got a favor. There’s a car in the front lot, space D12, that needs some work.” He glanced at the rusty sedan. “A lot of work. Do you think you can fit it in?” He listened for a few seconds. “It will have to be towed.” He paused. “Great. Thanks, man. I really appreciate it.” He clicked the call off. “My mechanic is going to have a look at it and work his magic.”

  “Your mechanic?” She was taken aback by how quickly he’d solved the problem. The only question was how much it would cost. If she’d called her guy, who wasn’t very good but was cheap, she knew approximately how much she’d have to shell out. Price’s cars were expensive, and she suspected his mechanic was, too. “Is he…” Embarrassed by having to ask, her cheeks flushed. “Is he expensive?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He bent and retrieved the seating chart from the passenger side. “He’s the hotel mechanic, services our shuttle vans. He gets paid whether there’s work or not. We just finished with biannual maintenance, so his workload is light.” He straightened. “I’d rather be paying him for working on your car than sitting around.”

  “Oh.” Relief washed through her, and she straightened. “Well, thank you.”

  “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”

  He started to walk away, but she stopped him. “No, I can take a cab. Really, I don’t want to be any more of a bother than I already have been.”

  “I like you being a bother.” He wrapped her hand around his arm and gently propelled her toward the hotel. “Driving you home gives me a chance to convince you to come to my parents’ anniversary party.”

  “But I can’t, I have—”

  He cut her off. “To run errands. But you don’t have a car, so maybe now you’ll take me up on my offer.”

  Did she have a choice? There were five to-dos on her list besides the bachelorette party. Then she’d be finished. The desire to cross those tasks off and stay on schedule won out over the awkward evening it would cost. Besides, Price was getting her car fixed—or running again until its next breakdown—for free. The least she could do was accompany him to his parents. It wasn’t like it was a date. Just an outing. “Okay, I’ll go.”

  “Excellent.” Though he didn’t look at her, continuing to stare ahead, he appeared more than a little happy about her agreement. “I promise. It will be fun.”

  She gritted her teeth. Yeah, right, spendin
g the evening with a man she was illogically attracted to, and a swarm of strangers, so not her idea of fun.

  Chapter Five

  Shopping had been more than a little enlightening. “So let me get this straight, your theme for the bachelorette party is basically penises?”

  “Yeah.” Her lips quirked into a smirk and she shrugged, giving her head a slight shake. “What else would it be?”

  “I pictured more of a dove, rose petals, and mimosa kind of night.”

  “Seriously?” She shifted in the passenger seat to stare at him. “Then the bachelor party will be a cigar, brandy, and ascot type of affair.”

  “Hell no,” he blurted. “More like booze, strippers, and torturing Kyle about the finer points of being single.”

  “Exactly. It’s the same for women. And don’t think we’re more dignified about the strippers. Women lose their shit when those guys start taking off their clothes.”

  “Huh. I didn’t know that.” He couldn’t imagine Kinni losing her shit over anything. And to be honest, he didn’t particularly like the idea of her amped up over some greased-up hairless cowboy taking off his clothes. “Well, I think you successfully accomplished your mission of purchasing every penis-related item in the adult store.”

  “My favorite is the penis tiara for Roxy.” She held it up and fluffed the pink fur around the base of the phallic shape. “She’s going to love it.”

  “Yeah, who wouldn’t love a good penis crown?”

  She gave him a playful scowl and thankfully lowered the tiara. “Not everything I bought is member-oriented. I got those great sashes.”

  “I’m not criticizing. I’m complimenting your scouting skills.” He flicked on the blinker and turned off the main road. “It’s as if you have some kind of party prop radar.”

  “I Googled it.” She shoved the crown into the bag and set it on the floor behind his seat. “Whether or not you have the perfect penis paraphernalia can make or break a bachelorette party.”

  Not completely sure she was joking, he glanced at her. She stared out the front window of the car, her face relaxed but not smiling. “I bet,” he said, grinning, before he refocused on the road.