It’s not a fireworks-and-confetti kind of kiss.
It’s better.
One I think about while we’re paddling back to the cottage. One I think about when I’m in the shower, alone.
One I think about when I walk out of the bathroom and find him at the kitchen table.
“Still wanna crash that wedding?”
Chapter 14
Maverick
“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”
The towel is wrapped around her head like a turban, and she’s wrapped in a robe that came with the cabin. The robe’s two sizes too big, and I hope that if I stare at it hard enough, it will fall off her body.
“You only live once,” I announce, holding up the two champagne flutes I snagged from the back of the cabinet and giving them a little jiggle. One has a chip. The other might still have lipstick on it from the last person who stayed here. Classy.
Annabelle eyes me like I’ve lost my damn mind. “You seriously want to sneak into a stranger’s wedding? That is so tacky.”
“Do not get cold feet on me now,” I say. “I seriouslyneedthis. Eat someone else’s cake. Do the ‘Cupid Shuffle’ with people I’ll never see again. Cry during a speech that’s not meant for me. That’s the dream.”
Plus, I’m already getting bored. There are only so many things one can do in the woods in an isolated cabin—and since she and I are not a couple, it’s not as if we can have sex all day, every day.
She laughs, finally. “You have a problem.”
I grin. “I know. But I’ve also got a plan. So? You in?”
Her eyes flick toward the window where Moonrise at Star Lake is visible through the trees, twinkly lights already glowing like somethingout of a movie. Music drifts across the water—muffled bass, the hint of a dance floor warming up.
“I have the strangest feeling this is going to end badly.”
I feel my eyebrows raise. “What could possibly go wrong?”
My roomie nibbles her sexy bottom lip. I’ve sucked on that lip ...
“So many things.”
“Come on. Balls to the walls—it’ll be so fucking fun, and I love free food.”
She’s standing in the kitchen wearing a robe like it’s couture, staring through the window, fixated on the twinkle lights as if she’s seriously debating whether or not to crash a wedding with me. I want to slide my hands inside that robe; caress the tits that have been in my mouth.
Annabelle is nodding, finally back to my way of thinking.
God, I love a woman who can be talked into bad decisions.
She’s quiet for a heartbeat, and I can practically hear the gears turning in that gorgeous head of hers. Calculating risk. Measuring reward. Probably factoring in shoe options.
“I mean,” she finally says, voice casual but eyes still on the window. “Technically it’s notcrashingif we’re just ... observing from a safe, respectful distance, right?”
I smirk. “‘Respectful distance’ my ass. I want to be part of the dance contest.”
Now she’s the one raising a brow. “Are you insane? You don’t think for one second you wouldn’t be recognized?” Annabelle snorts. “I mean, just ’cause I didn’t recognize you doesn’t mean someone else wont.”
“Gee, thanks.”
She shrugs unapologetically. “What? I didn’t.”
