15 Shades Of Pink (10 page)

He sighed. “It was my father’s idea to cut me out.”

“Let’s go talk to them.” I linked my fingers in his.

He squeezed hard. “You want to?”

“I want them to see what I see in you. And I’ll slap them if they don’t.”

“Better than one of your tae kwon do moves.”

I laughed, and we walked over, holding hands. My mother caught sight of us and hurried over. “Honey, who is this?”

I stopped and looked up at the ceiling. “It’s Tony. You met him at my house that morning you barged in?”

Her mouth turned into a tiny ‘o.’ “You clean up nicely.” Her eyes swept over him.

“I’ll catch up with you later, Mom. We’re going to talk to his parents.”

“We’re not paying for another wedding, Kristen, if that’s what this is about,” she called behind me.

I heard Tony chuckling and I pulled him along. “You thought I was kidding, didn’t you?”

“You can’t pick your parents.”

“Unfortunately.”

I felt him take a deep breath as we approached his parents’ table. His grip on my hand tightened. Several people stopped talking as we approached.

His mother ran to him, and set her hand on his cheek. “Oh, Tony.” She pressed her cheek against his chest and started to cry. She looked at me and reached for my hand. “We met this lovely friend of yours. Is this your girlfriend?” She looked up at him and he looked at me.

I nodded.

“Oh, Tony.” She started crying again and he rubbed her back.

“It’s going to be okay, Mom. Everything is working out.”

His father stepped forward. “It’s good to see you, son. Sounds like you’re doing well.”

Tony nodded. “I am. I am now.”

His father offered his hand. “I thought we’d lost you.” Tony gripped his hand, and his father placed his other hand on top.

I restrained myself from shouting that he had abandoned Tony, not lost him, but things were working out well, so I kept my mouth shut.

“Why don’t you two join us for dinner?” Mr. Malone asked.

“Oh, I’m sitting at table twenty-two with my mother.”

Mr. Malone turned to two couples that were sitting at the table and pretending they weren’t listening. “Tim, Jordan, you don’t mind swapping seats with these folks, do you?”

The two men quickly scooped up their dates and transferred to our table, and Tony and his uncle made his way over, too.

We endured the retelling of toddler tantrums and childhood mischief. No secrets were left untold by the end of the night.

“We’ve already footed the bill for three cancelled weddings, but I think we might be able to swing one more. I have a feeling this one is going to stick,” my mother said with a wink.

Then she and Tony’s mother were off, talking about reception venues and florists. I didn’t dare interrupt. I just looked at Tony and smiled. Then I leaned over to him and whispered, “Meet me at my place later. And bring Winston.”

“Ah, you’re just afraid to be alone at night now.”

I whacked his arm.

“You know, if I do that, I might never leave,” he said in a serious tone.

I nudged his nose with mine. “Good. Because I won’t ever let you leave again.”

He reached for my hand and kissed it. “I didn’t think guys got fairy tale endings, too.”

“The good guys always do.” I smiled at him and looked in his eyes. Instead of the pain of his past, I now saw the promise of a bright and happy future.

* * *

One night with a stranger…gets even stranger the next day
.

Not You

By Lisa Scott

Carly snatched her fourth champagne from the passing waiter and downed it in one gulp. Licking her lips, she set the flute on an empty table.

Her friend Tara placed a hand on her shoulder. “Slow down. We’re at a charity event for the children’s hospital. There’s no bouncer to carry you out of here.”

“That only happened once.” Carly held up a pink-tipped finger. “And I promise not to give away my bra this time.” She hiccupped. “I’m not wearing one.” She’d never been able to walk into McGinty’s after that.

She sank down onto the nearest seat, not even at her own table. “How else am I going to get through the night? I’m going to my mother’s third wedding tomorrow and I haven’t even had one of my own. Can you say spinster?”

“Spinster.” Tara adjusted her sparkly wrap and sat next to her. “That’s a stupid word, anyway. Single old ladies don’t spin anything anymore.”

Carly groaned and settled her chin in her hand. “Somebody implanted me with a tracking device that homes in on the absolute worst guys. But my mom was born with a lucky horseshoe up her—”

“That’s not true. And it’ll all be over tomorrow.”

Carly sniffed. “Maybe if I had a date to bring with me it would be easier.”

“Plenty of eligible bachelors here tonight.” She swept her arm like she was showing off the prizes on a game show.

Carly scanned the ballroom for some prospects and noticed a tall guy with gorgeous dark hair pulled back in a ponytail—who had just scooped up a blond woman in his arms like he was never going to let her go.
Typical. I spot a hot guy and he’s taken
.  “I’ve just got incredibly bad boy karma.”

A couple wandered over to the table. “I think you’ve got the wrong seats,” said a prissy brunette.

Tara pulled Carly up by the hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

Bored with the prime rib and political debate being served up at the table, Carly excused herself to get some fresh air on the outdoor terrace. She grabbed another drink at the bar, stepped outside, and shivered in the cool night air.

“I thought I was the only one unamused by the meal.” A man stepped away from the side of the building and joined her at the railing overlooking the city.

She set her drink down on a bistro table and looked at him, surprised she hadn’t noticed him in the room before. He was tall, with deep-set brown eyes and tousled ash-blond hair. His shoulders were wide, and his legs were long, and she was wondering what he’d look like out of that tux.

That’s the effect four flutes of champagne and one martini had on a girl the night before her mother was getting hitched. “You here alone?” she asked, skipping the small talk.

His eyes lingered on her rear, jutted back as she leaned against the railing. He took his time finally bringing his gaze to meet hers with a sultry smile. “I am. And I hope to God you are, too.”

She turned around and pressed her back against the railing, showing off her cleavage, enhanced by her strapless black gown. No need to be subtle when you knew what you wanted. “Listen. I’m having a really bad week and I’d like nothing more than to get out of here now. With you.”

He tipped his head and looked at her, probably to determine if she was putting him on. “Just like that, huh?”

She nodded and snapped her fingers. “Just like that.” She hoped she was improvising well; Carly wasn’t the type to solicit men for a one-night stand. “I just need to let my friend know I’m leaving.”

He reached out and brushed his thumb along her cheekbone. “I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

She shuddered at his touch and nodded, then lifted her gown off the floor and dashed back to the table. She squatted next to Tara’s seat. “I found someone to make the weekend much more bearable. I’m leaving.”

Tara’s eyes widened. “Carly! I was kidding about picking up a guy for the night. You’re not like that.”

“Consider it my personal bachelorette party for my mom.” She winked.

“Be careful!” she whispered.

“I’m picking up a guy at a charity ball. I’ll be fine. You think they let criminals in here?”

“You better call me tomorrow!”

Carly walked away, looked over her shoulder, and fluttered her fingers. She certainly would not have been doing this without the amounts of alcohol she’d consumed. She’d been voted most responsible in high school and considered it a life-long assignment.

But tonight she was on sabbatical.

When she walked down the stairs to the lobby, she spotted her guy watching her. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and rubbed his chin, never taking his eyes off her.

The quiver in her belly told her this was a good plan, responsible or not. At age twenty-six, she’d never hooked up with a stranger. She took her time descending the stairs.

Her gown brushed the floor, rustling as she walked to him. Soft classical music played overhead, and something tight and wild was unwinding in her belly. She looped her arm around his and squeezed his bicep. “Ready?” she asked in a husky voice.

“Where to?” he asked.

“My place. It’s not far.”

They walked outside and the breeze swirled her hair across her face. He brushed it away and left his fingers on her cheek. “What’s your name?”

She took a deep breath and lied. “Samantha.”

“I’m Clark. Nice to meet you.” And he crushed his mouth against hers.

She woke the next morning with a pounding skull and a naked man in her bed; two things to which she didn’t normally wake. And her head wasn’t the only thing aching, she noticed, as she planted her feet on the floor. She looked at the clock and swore. It was eleven, and she had to be at the rehearsal luncheon at noon.

She staggered out of bed and pulled the sheets off Kent. Or was it Clark? Yes, Clark. “Come on, we’ve got to get up.”

He groaned and rolled over, exposing his rear.

She paused for a moment to admire the view. Then she shook him by the shoulders.

He waved her away. “I’m spent, thanks to you. Let me sleep this off.”

She climbed back in bed and tried to pull him up.

“You want more?” Rolling over on his side, he snagged her with one arm and pulled her to him. “It must have been a really bad week. But I’m glad to help.”

Her lips found his again and she snaked her hands down his back until she reached the smooth peak of his buttocks. Yeah, she could do this again. Then she spotted the clock once more and pulled away. “And it’s going to get even worse if I don’t get up and get ready. I’ve got somewhere to be.”

He sat up and looked at the clock. His eyes widened and he rubbed his face. “Me too.” He hopped out of bed and picked his boxers up off the floor. “Any idea where my pants are?”

She felt her cheeks flush. “Check the hall.”

One eyebrow popped up. “Right. Now I remember.”

She tied her robe and wondered what the proper next-day etiquette was for a one-night stand. She had no idea.

Clark came back in the room, buttoning his shirt.

She looked at him and gasped. “I’m sorry,” she said, pointing to his neck.

He reached up to feel, and then turned to look in the mirror. “A hickey? I haven’t had a hickey since junior high.”

She giggled. “Sorry. Want some makeup to hide it?”

He buttoned his shirt up to his neck. “Does that cover it up?”

She nodded and tried to bite back her laughter. “So, should I make you eggs or something before you go? Toast?”

He laughed. “No. That’s fine.”

She gripped the banister on her four-poster bed. “Sorry, I’ve never done anything like this before.”

He tried to hold back a grin. “I know.”

She put her hands on her hips. “How?”

He shook his head, laughing. “Because
I
have. A lot.” He finished buttoning his shirt. “I know a newbie when I see one.”

She looked down at the floor, wondering if it was the moaning that had given her away.

He walked over and lifted her chin with a crooked finger. “Hey, it was a refreshing change to be with someone so…enthusiastic.” He brushed his lips against hers.

She stepped back. “Well, thanks. Glad to have been of service.” She turned him around by the shoulders, pushed his back, and marched him out of the room. “And have a nice life.” She’d be far too embarrassed to ever see him again.

“Hey, you picked me up,” he said, jogging down the stairs.

She tipped her chin in the air and crossed her arms. “No one forced you to come.”

He held up his hands. “I’m not touching that one.”

He didn’t ask for her number and she didn’t offer. It’d been a wild, passionate night. But it was one she should soon forget, especially considering how smug he was being about the whole thing.

She led him to the front door and he turned around before leaving. “Samantha, that was great.” He kissed her nose. “You’re going to make some guy very happy some day.”

“No, thank
you
. You made
me
very happy for one night. Now good-bye.” She slammed the door behind him, still shocked by what she’d done. If she ever saw him again, she’d tell him what an arrogant, cocky womanizer he was.

Newbie
. The word was going to haunt her. But there wasn’t much time to stew in regret. She ran to the shower, and if she just dried her hair and put it up in a twist instead of curling it, she might get to the rehearsal brunch on time.

Everyone was outside by the gazebo when she arrived at the Blossom Reception Grove five minutes late. Her mother hurried over to her. “Come on. Wayne is very punctual,” she said.

She’d met Wayne a few times and he was nice enough. She was happy for her mother. Carly was going to be her only attendant and she felt guilty for being late. “Sorry, Mom, I had a charity thing last night. I was out late.” Images from the night before swirled in her head. It really had been quite incredible.

“Meet anyone interesting?”

She closed her eyes and swore she could still feel his hands on her, the way his lips had caressed her. Hell, she swore she could smell him. “No, I didn’t,” she lied.

“Well, come over here. I want you to met your new brother.”

Sighing, she opened her eyes and saw Wayne walking toward her.

With his arm around Clark.

***

Shit, this is some kind of joke, right?
He walked over to Dad’s new bride-to-be, Delilah, and her daughter—the woman he’d just left, after a night of Penthouse-worthy fun an hour earlier.

Her eyes were wide and her face was pale. Her mother clapped. “Isn’t this exciting? You always wanted a brother, and now you have one!”