“Funny.Amazing what you can learn fromBeauty and the Beast.You know when Belle sings about leaving her provincial town?… No?”His expression implied the unstated ‘obviously.’
Drea shook her head, confused at the direction he was taking her in, but amused he knew the movie well enough to quote it.
“It sounds like a Martha Stewart wedding for Connecticut trust fund babies,” he continued.“This is their engagement party.We need something way more fun and relaxed.”
“You want it laid-back so it doesn’t take much effort on your part to organize.That’s just lazy.”Their friends deserved the best party they could deliver, not the easiest.Why did she have to get stuck with a man who felt the opposite?
Cujo slouched on the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him as he stared at her with piercing blue eyes so vibrant they reminded her of the cloudless summer skies Florida was known for.And he was smirking.Drea tapped her pen on the glass tabletop.
“Relax, Shortcake,” Cujo drawled, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his knees.He held his cup in both hands.Damn, if that didn’t make his biceps flex.The sleeves of his white V-neck stretched across his muscles.Kaleidoscopic tattoos covered one arm from bicep to hand.Words, numbers, and images intertwined in a tight jumble to fill every inch of skin.The other didn’t have a single tattoo.“All I’m suggesting is Harper and Trent have been through enough.They’d prefer a more low-key engagement party to some fancy penguin-suit and pearls thing where we all stand around feeling stupid.It’s got nothing to do about how much work it is to organize.I just know it’s not Trent’s thing, or Harper’s—at least not after what happened.”
Had it really been three months since Trent had called her with those frightening words?Drea, he found her.Nathan found Harper.We’re on our way to the hospital.Can you meet us there?
Nathan, Harper’s ex, had terrorized her from prison until probation offered him the perfect opportunity to make good on his threats to find her.Guess that’s what happens when you release a drug-addicted sociopath from prison early.
Thankfully, it strengthened Harper’s relationship with Trent, leading to a marriage proposal shortly before the trip they were currently enjoying.
She looked toward the sofa.Cujo had grown his hair out.He’d been bald when they’d met in a pool hall months ago.Now it was blond, lighter than the color of Miami Beach sand, and softer.It was less military, and more… well, she didn’t want to dwell on the more.Mortification overcame her as she recalled the great first impression she must have made when she told him he looked like a bully.
Drea looked down at her notepad.The neatly tabulated columns with ideas and a to-do list helped focus her mind.When she’d asked her best friend if she could organize their party for them, Harper had immediately said yes.The happiness she’d felt had lasted all of an hour when it became apparent Cujo had asked Trent the same question.Now the two of them were stuck trying to find common ground.
“I think I know my best friend better than you.She’s a city slicker through and through.Who loves high-heeled shoes and cute dresses.”
“Let’s not get into a pissing contest on how well we know our BFFs,” Cujo mocked.“We met the first day of kindergarten, so I got you beat by a couple of decades on that score, Half Pint.”
“Cut the height references, you ass.We need to agree on something quickly.”Drea looked down at her watch.Goddamnit.How could it be nearly nine already?She couldn’t be late, not with José heading to the dentist and Harper still out on vacation.Not that she was complaining.The extra money earned covering Harper’s shifts had been really helpful.
Cujo stood, and Drea tried not to stare as he smoothed his faded jeans.She itched to run her fingers down the denim to see if it felt as soft as it looked.Placing his coffee cup on the table, he grabbed her hand.The tingle she felt shoot up her arm made her heart race.Their feet impossibly close together, Drea stood, her body millimeters away from his, acutely aware of the proximity of his pecs to her lips.Her skin prickled as his body, so very warm and solid, pressed against hers.Cujo flattened his hand on the top of her head then pulled it against his chest before stepping away.
“See?”he said gruffly, his gaze shifted from her cleavage to her face.“Shortcake.”
Drea wrenched out of his arms.
He winked at her.“Nice view.”
***
“Creep,” she said, pushing him away.
She’d felt so soft, her breasts pressed up against him.The way those clear hazel eyes of hers flared turned him on.Which really illustrated how men’s brains and cocks worked totally independent of each other, because she was driving him crazy.
The reason for their discussion had momentarily disappeared from his mind, replaced with images of all the things his cock wanted to do.Like raising the height of his tattooing chair, laying her down in it, pulling her to the edge, and…
Her nails clicked on the tabletop.Oh yeah.She wanted formal.
“It should be what they want, not whatyouwant,” Cujo said, shaking the charged images from his mind.There was no way Trent would go for what she was proposing.He knew it.The guy’s idea of dressing up was wearing black denim.
“Harper loves the art deco architecture here.She’s told me a million times how she enjoys walking from the bus to work because it gives her time to create stories in her head about the buildings she passes.One of the smaller ones is available to rent for parties.”
Cujo leaned over her shoulder, the subtle strawberry smell of her hair a heady distraction.He wanted to hate it, to cool his engines, but somehow couldn’t.She was messing with his head.Both of them.He grabbed a marker from the container on the table and put a big red line through her idea.
Drea smacked his knuckles with her pen.Hard.He yanked his hand away.
“Motherfucker,” he hissed.“Christ, you’re like a smiling assassin with ninja pen skills.”
“Why did you X my list?”
“It needs to be fun, not stuffy, Shortcake.”
