Josh’s efforts were a success. The McMillan brothers not only saved their firm, but they arranged for a merger with Megan’s father’s office. Josh began traveling to Kansas City, but he hated leaving his new wife at home, and Megan was running out of vacation time to travel with him. The couple had decided to move back to Megan’s hometown, but in the meantime, Noah started taking the trips in his brother’s place. Even more surprising—he loved the added responsibility.
And then there was all the extra time he got to spend with Libby.
No one understood their relationship, not that he blamed them. Hell, some days he didn’t understand it himself. A year ago, if someone had told him he’d be friends without benefits with a sexy-as-hell woman who drew the eyes of every man she walked past, well, there was no way he’d believe it.
Then one day Libby called Noah after a disagreement with Mitch. They talked for over two hours—something Noah had never done with any other woman, whether he was sleeping with her or not. Both were under the influence at the time. Libby had been drinking wine to drown her sorrows; Noah had been drinking beer to quiet his inner demons.
“We should hook up, Lib,” he said, gaining liquid courage from the three beers running through his bloodstream. “We’re perfect for each other.”
She was silent for so long he thought she’d either passed out or hung up on him, but she finally answered. “That’s a terrible idea, Noah.”
The sharp stab of pain from her rejection surprised him. “How can you say that? Look how well we get along.”
“And that’s exactly why we shouldn’t,” she said emphatically. “You’re probably the best friend I’ve ever had. I don’t want to lose you.”
“But you wouldn’t lose me. You’d just get more benefits,” he teased in a sultry voice.
“And what would happen after we break up?”
“Hey! We haven’t even had sex yet. Why are you already talking about us breaking up?”
“What’s the longest you’ve ever had a girlfriend?”
“Uh . . .” Did he really want to confess that it was shorter than it took bread to grow mold?
“My point exactly,” she said. Yet he could swear there was a thread of disappointment in her voice.
“You’re telling me that you’re not attracted to me?” he asked in disbelief. She had to realize there was some kind of sexual tension between them, even if they’d both chosen to ignore it. He’d almost kissed her dozens of times. And sometimes he caught her looking at him with a hungry glint in her eyes.
“Obviously I’m attracted to you,” she said. “Only a dead woman wouldn’t be attracted to you. But what we have is special. Do you really want to throw it away for cheap sex?”
He laughed. “I’ll have you know that sex with me is not cheap. In fact, a few women have offered to pay to get with this.”
“Whatever, stud muffin. You know I’m right.”
Unfortunately, he did.
Still, he wasn’t prepared for her phone call two days later.
“I’m getting married!”
His angry “You’re what?” slipped out before he could stop himself.
“Mitch and I are getting married in a month.” The defiance in her tone was unmistakable.
“A month? What the hell are you thinking, Libby?”
“Megan and Josh were married after knowing each other for only four days. I’ve been with Mitch for six months. Why shouldn’t we get married?”
“How about because you called me two days ago telling me what an ass he is.”
“It was a fight, Noah. If you stayed in a relationship long enough to discover what type of toothpaste the girl uses, you might understand.”
He knew what type of toothpaste she used, and a whole lot of other things besides, but he decided now wasn’t a good time to bring that up. Still, he wasn’t sure how to handle the swirling emotions in his head, let alone put a name to them. “What do you want me to do, Libby? Tell you congratulations?”
“That’s the typical response, Noah,” she spat out.
“Congratulations.”
“That didn’t sound very convincing.”
“You have to give me a damn minute to catch up, okay?” His chest tightened as he moved to the fridge and pulled out a beer.
“It’s been ten seconds.”
“I said a damn minute.”
“How is a damn minute different from a regular one?”
A grin cracked his mouth, despite his turmoil. No one could rein him back from his emotional spirals like Libby could. He realized he had two choices: he could give her his blessing, or he could continue down the path of belligerence and possibly lose her forever. But he had to give it one more try. “Are you sure, Lib?” He lowered his voice. “I don’t think he deserves you.”
“Listen to you,” she teased. “You’re like the big brother I never had.”
That only increased his turmoil. Big brother? Did she really see him that way? “I’m serious, Libby. Don’t you want what Megan and Josh have?”
“Who says I don’t?”
A rush of anger flooded his head, burning his filter to ash. “Are you serious? You can’t possibly believe what you have with that guy is love! He’s more enamored with football than he is with you!”
“I can’t believe you just said that!”
“The proof is right in front of you, Libby. Hell, you spend more time with me than you do with him and I live two thousand miles away.”
“Then maybe I should spend less time with you!”
“Most normal women who actually loved their fiancés would.”
She hung up on him then, and he stewed in his sorrow and unease, telling himself that he’d call her the next day to apologize and they’d be fine. And as far as her impending marriage went, surely her two friends would help her see the light. Noah might not be an expert on love, but he knew Libby didn’t really love Mitch. How could she when the guy was so obsessed with football? According to Libby, Mitch had a room in his apartment stuffed so full with football paraphernalia, he could star in an episode of one of those hoarder shows. What semi-intelligent man could be with Libby St. Clair without being infatuated to the point of distraction over her?
The next morning he called her as soon as he was sure she’d be awake.
“Lib, I’m sorry. I said some things I wish I could take back.” He was surprised by how easily the apology rolled off his tongue. The first apology he could remember making was the one he’d been forced to give to his mean next-door neighbor after cutting her flowers to make his mother a bouquet. He was four at the time. Apologies had been soured for him ever since. But while he hadn’t been sorry about the neighbor lady’s flowers, he did regret hurting Libby. She was the very last person he wanted to hurt.
Libby didn’t respond for several seconds, and his heart thudded against his ribcage. Had he pushed her too far? Finally, she cleared her throat. “I want you to be in the wedding.”
“What?” Rein it in, Noah. He couldn’t lose control again. He softened his tone, then joked, “I’m warning you I won’t wear a tacky rayon dress. I’m more of a silk guy.”