Finn:Fair enough. You know what I always say—if it smells crazy, dump it.
I sighed as I dressed and tried not to think about Brea. I refused to admit that she was who I really wanted for a night of…not sweet passion, but more like hot and heavy fucking.
* * *
Brea studiously ignoredme when I walked into the Weddings in the City office an hour and a half later. She and Liz chattered happily about the invitations while Wes and I stood by.
“They all look the same to me,” Wes told me under his breath.
I smirked slightly.
“You know you didn’t have to come today, though I’m glad you did,” he told me.
If I had been thinking rationally, I wouldn’t have come. I would have used my Sunday to catch up on work, maybe start training Beowulf. But I had to see Brea. I had to know how she was feeling after that kiss last night. I wanted to know if there was anything there.
I wanted to kiss her again.
“I like this one the most,” Liz said after Brea ran through the invitation options. The one Liz chose looked like someone had made a scrapbook wedding invitation. It was decorated with bits of lace, ribbon, and colorful paper and had letterpressed text. The invitation was as big as a photo frame and included an RSVP card and envelope, the invitation itself, a reception card with little boxes to check about allergies or other food preferences, and an invitation to the rehearsal dinner.
“Your mom insisted that we invite everyone to the rehearsal dinner,” Wes informed me as Liz happily took photos of the invitations.
“And we need gift bags for the rehearsal dinner, too,” Liz said. “I don’t want people to go home empty-handed. Just something small.”
Brea nodded. “We’ve had a number of brides request small favors for the rehearsal dinner then a larger gift bag or box to give at the actual reception. I can show you some examples of what we’ve done for other brides so you can start thinking about those. We’ll discuss the actual gift box samples in an upcoming meeting. Just give me a moment to dig the samples out of the closet.”
“I’ll come help you,” I offered.
Brea didn’t look at me as I followed her back into the office to a storage closet.
“They’re up high,” Brea said, pointing to a crate on a shelf.
I ignored her pointing. The smell of her in the small space was intoxicating. She looked so fuckable in her flouncy skirt and short-sleeved blazer. I was hit with the tantalizing thought of pushing up that skirt and fucking her in the office. I tried to shake off the desire. Brea hadn’t given me any indication that last night had been more than a drunken bad decision on her part.
“Can you grab the box?” Brea asked impatiently, turning to glare at me. She must have seen the lust in my eyes, because her mouth made a round O, and she gave a little squeak.
Don’t lose control. Don’t lose control,I chanted to myself as I took a step toward her. She backed up against the shelving. I placed a hand on either side of her, leaning over her but not touching her. She stared up at me, eyes huge in the dark.
“So are we going to talk about last night?”
“I thought women were the ones who always wanted to talk about things,” Brea said flippantly, “and now here you are wanting to have an in-depth conversation.”
My mouth quirked slightly. “Oh, believe me,” I purred, “I would rather push you against the wall and fuck you until you screamed, but that would not be very gentlemanly. And I didn’t know how you’d feel about that, so I thought the best course of action would be to ask.”
Brea swallowed and looked down at the floor. “I uh—” Her lips parted slightly.
“Do you need a little reminder?” I whispered, leaning closer, my breath hot against her lips.
“Maybe,” she said, voice barely audible.
I closed the distance, pressing my mouth to hers. Brea arched against me, moaning slightly as my hands traveled up her body. I deepened the kiss, letting our tongues tangle together.
My phone dinged, and I broke the kiss.
“We should probably get back,” Brea said, twisting the hem of her blazer as I looked at the phone.
Memphis Eve:There’s fireworks on the pier. Want to come? Could get some nice pictures! *Kissy face emoji*
Brea glanced at my phone then back up at me. I remembered her words last night: she didn’t want me with Memphis Eve.
