I have no idea how long we're lost in the kiss before Layne pulls away. "Onion breath," she whispers through a giggle.
I give her delicious round ass a light spank. "Gorgeous, you completely bombed on that task. I'm going to have to give you a lot more training, clearly."
"Go ahead," she grins.
With a rumbling moan, I sit up. "First, we have to take care of our assignment today. That includes pre-breakfast." I nod toward the silver tray. "Fruit for brain energy.”
Layne stands up and straightens her dress. "Why the croissants?"
“The dark chocolate and hazelnut will remind us we're on vacation."
Layne grins wider, her sparkling eyes making my heart speed up again. "Good idea. A vacation from work stress while making sure a family thief doesn’t strike again,andeating great food. Multitasking for the win!"
I have another task on my agenda: make Layne fall for me before we go back to the real world and I no longer have the excuse of being her fake husband to hold her in my arms.
7
LAYNE
I’m learning a lot this weekend about reading people and working on an assignment.
But learning how to control my lust around Mack is unbelievably difficult. The way I feel in his arms is so confusing I’d need a month and four notebooks to sort it all out.
Brunch is mostly uneventful. There's a series of family toasts, plus plenty of jokes about everyone seeing the bride before the ceremony, but that’s fine because “they're not traditional”.
It’s a bit hard not to snort at that. Everything about this family wedding is incredibly traditional. The light pink and white flowers, buttercream ribbons, and crystal candle holders. White tablecloths and bridesmaids wearing pink barrettes in their hair that match the flowers. Gentlemen in light gray jackets over crisp white shirts, that strange business casual look that just works for brunch.
It's all very beautiful and stylish, and thankfully there are no surprises.
The bride and groom disappear as soon as brunch is over, so they can get ready and have some photos taken. The rest of thefamily mingles for another hour, killing time until we need to go change.
I sip my second cup of decaf, listening as Mack speaks with one of the uncles about the latest investment trends. His large, warm palm settles on my thigh now and then, stroking my leg for a moment, reigniting the heat across my chest and through my lower hips.
That moment we shared on the hotel room bed is burned into my mind. I can’t stop thinking about it. I want more of him.
I want…everything.
And who better for a woman’s first time than a man who already seems to know exactly what her body wants?
I survey the other women in the room in an effort to hold myself together and keep my cheeks from flaming. It's wonderful to be dressed as nicely as everyone around me for once in my life. From my glossy rich hair to the heavy ring on my finger, I feel…upgraded. Still myself, just the classiest, most polished version of myself.
I know for a fact that Mack would not have spent this much money on a male security guard. I see the invoices that come for specific outfits for staff to blend into an event, or replacements for anything that gets destroyed in the field. But a whole new makeup kit?
Mack has been spoiling me since the moment he laid eyes on me. It's a wild feeling, knowing that he appeared to be into me from the moment he sat in my booth at the diner. Before he even knew me.
My brain sputters. Logically, I know that attraction is usually visual first, then emotional. I just hope he thinks of me…or can come to think of me…as the entire package.
My gaze drifts around the room. Not one of these nice people looks like a thief. Especially not one who would steal from family. That's insane.
Oh! Maybe that's it. Who has the potential to be a bit crazy?
I survey the room methodically. There are couples arguing but putting on a bright face whenever anyone else comes by their table. Other couples ignoring each other. Bridesmaids and groomsmen flirting shamelessly, but that’s almost to be expected.
There's one couple in particular that catches my eye, where an older woman is glaring at her husband. She has close-set eyes and gray hair pulled back in a severe bun. He is a bit loud, wearing a beige plaid shirt, and looks a little drunk even though it's barely past noon. If I recall correctly, that's Ron's uncle Neil and aunt Lenore.
She sneaks a quick look around, then wraps some cookies in a napkin and stuffs them into her huge purse. Neil doesn't notice, yammering at length to the man beside him.
"Be right back," I murmur to Mack, heading straight for the bar. Most people are only drinking coffee and tea, but some are enjoying mimosas.
