“I’m not taking your tickets,” Tom said when Jude returned to the foyer where she’d left him while she dashed into the kitchen. “I didn’t do anything to earn them.”
“You gave me a nice night on the town, and I met a handsome man—”
“Aw, shucks,” he said, ducking his head and feigning toeing the floor with his patent leather shoe like an embarrassed little boy.
“Oh,” she said, laughing. “I meant Dirk, but you’re handsome too. He gave me his phone number.” She patted the clutch purse she still held in her hand.
Of course he did. Tom grunted. He was about to say, I don’t think Dirk is the guy for you, but he didn’t want to sound petty. He was not jealous of Dirk. Yes, in college, Dirk had stolen Tom’s girlfriend and then unceremoniously dumped her, but they’d been living in the same frat house and eventually he’d forgiven his buddy. Dirk had claimed he’d hooked up with Amanda to show Tom that he couldn’t trust her, and he’d been right.
But the thought of Dirk being with Jude had Tom gritting his teeth.
“You’ve already missed one of the games,” Jude was saying, extending the tickets toward him. “Please take them.”
He’d feel like a jerk if he took her valuable season tickets for doing nothing more than escorting her to a wedding.
“At least let me pay for them.”
“No, we had a deal. I had a great time, but in retrospect it was a silly idea—asking you to help me loosen up and shed my niceness. You can’t do that kind of inner work for me.”
“Hey, you went to the head of the class tonight,” he murmured.
“Nah, I am who I am. I’m nice. I might as well accept that I’m never going to be a glamour-puss like the gorgeous bridesmaid you were dancing with.”
“Brenna?” Tom shook his head. “She’s attractive, don’t get me wrong, but there’s just no zing there, if you know what I mean.”
“Really?” She appeared surprised. “I thought she oozed zing.”
Her eyes widened and she looked so hopeful that Tom almost turned tail and ran. Remember the bet! If he stayed here, he was going to kiss her and that was a no-no.
Her cheeks were a glowing pink, either from the cold outside or the overheated air between them. Lightly, she moistened her lips and he couldn’t pry his gaze from her little tongue.
In that moment, he wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to breathe. Despite her hard-luck history with men, Jude was dangerous. Especially to him. At least for the next month. He had a bet to win.
After that? All bets were off, pun intended.
Dirk had certainly known what he was doing by hitting on Jude in front of Tom. He was feeling far more possessive of Jude than he had any right to feel. His emotions unnerved him.
She was too adorable and sexy in that dress and heels. A sweet kittenish look that could drive any guy bonkers.
“I better get going,” he said.
“The tickets.” She flapped them at him.
He held up a palm. “I can’t.”
“Please?”
He really did love the Bulls. He stared at the tickets she was thrusting in his direction, still reluctant to take them. “I—”
“Here,” she said, slipping the envelope into his coat pocket in one smooth movement that put her far too close to him.
“I haven’t done enough to earn them,” he protested.
“Yet,” she said and opened the door.
He raised an eyebrow, far more intrigued than he should be. “Yet?”
“Good night, Tom.” She shooed him over the threshold.
He stepped outside, turned back to say good night….
That’s when she went up on her tiptoes, leaned in, and kissed him on the cheek. Certainly not a sexy kiss, but it blew his socks right off. Good thing she was strictly off-limits. He dipped his head, his gaze fixed on her lips.
“Good night, Tom,” she repeated in a firmer voice.
“Night,” he said, feeling crazily relieved and madly disappointed at the same time. “And thanks a lot for the tickets.”
“Jaxon will eat his heart out.”
He didn’t immediately remember who Jaxon was and by the time he recalled her ex-fiancé’s name, he’d raced down three flights of steps and ran to his car in a downpour, wishing he could turn around, go back, and spend the night.
And that was why he zoomed out of her neighborhood as fast as the speed limit allowed.
Tom woke up slowly and reluctantly the next morning, squinting against the bright winter sun streaming through half-closed blinds. His mouth was dry, and he felt headachy. He should have drank more water last night after the champagne and beer at the wedding.
The cell phone penetrated his skull on its fourth shrill ring, but he wasn’t going to answer. He was supposed to be at his parents’ house for brunch with Tara and Ben before they left for their honeymoon in Fiji, and he really didn’t want to go.
“Ridiculous,” he muttered sullenly.
Tara and Ben would be so wrapped up in each other they wouldn’t even notice who else was in the room. He didn’t see the point of going, but his sainted mother had slaved over the brunch, so he knew he had to drag his lazy carcass over there.
Grr.
The phone rang again.
Wincing, he pushed away the covers, shivering as he went into the kitchen, picking up the phone along the way.
Instead of answering, he let it go to voicemail while he brewed coffee and then ran through his text messages—there was a sultry “I loved dancing with you last night” from Brenna, an invitation to some friend’s upcoming bachelor party—why was everyone suddenly getting married—and a gloaty question from Dirk, asking if Tom was still in the competition after his night with Jude.
“You better believe it,” Tom muttered and immediately the image of Jude’s face, after she’d kissed his cheek, popped into his head.
He wasn’t one to kid himself. She was a looker, funny and sweet, too. He certainly wouldn’t mind taking her to bed—after he won the bet, of course—but she deserved better than that. She was the kind of girl you brought home to meet mother, and that’s just not where Tom’s head was at.
Brunch was nice. Nicer than he expected. The food was delicious and the conversation lively. It was fun watching his twin with her new husband. They did look so rapturously in love that he couldn’t help feeling a little envious, even though he was a long way from wanting the “I do” for himself.
When he hugged Tara goodbye before she and Ben left for the airport, his heart filled with happiness for his sister and he told her so.
“You’ll get there, bro. You can’t hurry love.”
“Who says I want love?” he asked her.
“Everyone wants love,” Ben said and leaned over to kiss Tara’s cheek. “You’re just slow to admit it.”
She sank against him and sighed.
His sister and Ben did make marriage seem enticing, and for some strange reason, he liked that radical thought. Jude was in his head again, and he saw her going up on those sexy high heels, her lush hair tumbling over her shoulders, her full pink lips puckered, kissing him…