kiss to her knuckles. His five o’clock shadow scraped against her skin, completely at odds with the softness of his lips. It would feel good to have him sliding his mouth along other parts of her. Better than good. Decadent and sinful and absolutely perfect.
Not yet.
She licked her lips. “I know.”
“I see you’ve done your homework.”
“More like your reputation precedes you.”
“Can’t complain about that if it brings a woman like you my way.” He let their hands drop but didn’t release her. Aaron slid his thumb over the same path his lips had just taken, as if he had every right to seduce her with a single touch. His lips quirked into a smile and, damn it, it made him even more handsome. “Nice wedding.”
Come on, Becka, you can do better than this. Stop staring at him like a lust-struck idiot. She cleared her throat and reclaimed her hand just in time for the bartender to deliver her drink. She turned to face the bar fully, needing some distance, even if it was only in her head. No matter what her plans for this man were, she couldn’t afford to lose focus until later. Maybe this is a mistake. Maybe you should find someone less magnetic, less overwhelming, to lose yourself in. Even as she thought it, she knew she wasn’t going to. A few short minutes of conversation and Aaron Livingston had dropped a lure she couldn’t have resisted if she tried. Better to just let things unfurl on the path they were both obviously heading down.
It’s only one night. Tomorrow I’ll go back to my life and it will be nothing but a fond memory.
What had he asked her? Right. The wedding. Of course it was the wedding. That was all anyone had been talking about for months, and they were at the damn event right now.
She downed half her drink. “It’s a wedding. They’re all flavors of the same thing.” Damn it, that sounded bitter. She took a careful breath and pasted a happy smile on her face. “It’s what Lucy wanted, and she’s happy, so I’m happy.” That, at least, was the truth.
“I take it you don’t subscribe to the American dream that ends with a white picket fence?”
Becka shot him a look, trying to gauge where he was going with that comment. Even if he shared her views on marriage and weddings, this was hardly the event to start bitching about how cynical they were. “We live in New York. We don’t do white picket fences here as a general rule.”
“True enough.” Aaron’s blue eyes took her in, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that he saw too much. That if he looked deep enough, he’d be able to trace her aversion to the fictional happily-ever-after right back to her parents’ destroyed marriage and...
Enough.
Keeping ahold of her drink, she gave him her full attention. No reason to avoid pulling the trigger on this. If by some miracle she’d misread the situation, she still had plenty of time to bounce back from any rejection he dealt and move on to someone else. “You want to get out of here?” She waved a hand at her sister still on the dance floor. “I mean, after this dog and pony show has reached its natural conclusion.”
His grin widened, just a little. “I wouldn’t say no to another drink somewhere quieter, where we could have a conversation.”
A conversation? Hard pass. The conversation, the drinks, the quiet place... It was all just frills to fancy up the fact that they wanted to bang each other’s brains out. Whatever his reasons, he seemed just as onboard with this plan as she was. Except he wanted to talk. If he was anyone else, if the attraction was any more manageable... But he wasn’t, and it wasn’t. She knew her strengths, and while she didn’t believe in love at first sight, what she had with Aaron was definitely lust at first sight. Better for both of them to keep things simple and define clear boundaries from the start.
Becka reached up and traced the top button of his dark gray shirt. “Is a conversation really what you’re after?”
He opened his mouth and seemed to reconsider. “I’m after you.”
The honesty washed over her, a fresh breeze that made the choking environment of this fucking wedding a little more bearable. I am happy for Lucy. I am. I just can’t look at her without seeing our mother, and we both know how that turned out. It’s not the same and it won’t have the same outcome, but that doesn’t change anything. Not really.
Becka managed a smile. “In that case, let’s skip the drinks and you can take me back to your place for a nightcap.”
If anything, his brows rose higher. “A nightcap.”
“Yep.” It would be good with Aaron. Exactly what she needed. The lightning nipping at her fingertips from just this small touch told her as much. They could offer each other an enjoyable night, and then she’d get back to her life with only a fond memory to balance out her mixed feelings about her friend and sister leaving her behind.
They weren’t really leaving her. Rationally, Becka knew that. Most days, she even believed that nothing would really change even though both Lucy and Allie had gone and fallen in love.
Stop that.
Becka finished her drink and set it on the bar. “Another, please.”
Aaron covered the glass with his hand. “If you want that nightcap, then you’re done for the night.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he shifted closer, placing his free hand over hers, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the room. “Trust me—you’ll want to be sober for this.”
His audacity made her laugh. “Yeah, no, you don’t get to decide when I’m done.” She was buzzed, but she wasn’t anywhere near drunk. Another drink or two wouldn’t make a difference.
“All the same.” He removed his hand, but he didn’t move away. “You’re more than welcome to drink yourself stupid, but you won’t be coming home with me if you do.”
Sheer stubbornness almost made her tell him to fuck right off. Becka responded to commands about as well as she did to ultimatums, and Aaron had issued both in the last thirty seconds. The whole point of a night of wild abandon was the abandon part, and that only worked if they were equal. Letting him set the pace and lay down the boundaries was not part of the plan.
But then the DJ’s voice laughed from the speakers. “It’s about that time, ladies and gentlemen. All the single ladies on the floor to catch the bouquet!”
Desperation clawed at Becka’s throat. She had to go out there and smile and be supportive, and all she wanted to do was crawl under the bar with a bottle of vodka. She glared at Aaron. “Fine. No more drinks.” She turned on her heel and stalked toward the group of women gathering in the middle of the dance floor.
He’d better be as good as he thinks he is.
* * *
Aaron spent the rest of the reception watching Becka. Taking her home was likely a mistake. He might be on decent terms with her sister, but her newly acquired brother-in-law was a different story altogether. Pissing off Gideon Novak wasn’t on his list of things to accomplish, especially with Aaron’s business on the verge of expanding. He’d need the headhunter in the future, which was part of the reason he’d accepted the invitation
