Rowan arrived in the lobby to find no sign of Connor. She glanced at her phone and crossed her arms as her foot took up a staccato tapping beat against the tile. The decorating would take hours, and she couldn’t afford to wait. She sighed and headed through the sliding glass doors, slipping on sunglasses to protect against the bright summer sun.
“Rowan. Ro! Wait up.” Connor jogged up and fell into step. “Sorry.”
“Thanks for taking this seriously.” She sped up, jingling her car keys as she pulled them from her bag.
“Hey.” He caught her arm and pulled her to a halt. “Tate is one of my best friends, so yeah, I do take this seriously. A family issue came up, so I had to take a call.”
“How convenient.”
“Not particularly, but that’s what happened.” He motioned toward a low-slung convertible. “Let me make it up to you and do the driving. I’ll get us there quickly.”
“Alive, I trust?”
“I’m an excellent driver.” He pressed his hand against the curve of her back, guiding her toward his fancy sports car.
“Fine.” She had to admit his ride appeared far more comfortable than her rental car, so she allowed him to open the door. A sigh of bliss escaped as she settled into the buttery leather of the plush passenger seat.
As the engine purred to life, she failed to contain her snicker.
“What?”
“This car is so you.”
“Why do I suspect you’re not complimenting me?”
Rowan lifted a shoulder and turned toward the window, pretending to be intent on the scenery.
They drove in silence for several blocks before he said, “Why do you hate me?”
“I don’t.”
“Really?” He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel before fiddling with the stereo. Soon, the smooth tones of a classic rock ballad flowed from the high-end speakers. “Tell me, Ro, why do you never talk to me?”
“We’re talking now.”
“Are we? This seems more like me talking, and you evading my questions.”
She looked over at him, taking in the firm set of his lips. “You really want to know?”
He glanced her way before turning his attention back to the busy highway. “Why else would I ask?”
“Okay. Well, you never take anything seriously. You in your fancy suits, always wooing some woman or other, then dumping her as fast as you picked her up. Even today, you made some lame ass excuse for being late. This weekend should be about your best friend’s wedding, not dodging whichever woman you sequestered in your room last night.”
“Is that how you see me?”
“If the suit fits.” She angled away, wishing for their destination to magically appear before she slugged him. “A family crisis. Pleeeasssse.”
“Actually,” he said in a low voice, “my little sister got brutally dumped by her boyfriend of two years. She called me in tears, and I had to talk her down from the ledge.”
Rowan cranked her head toward him. “Is she okay?”
“She will be.” Connor shook his head. “It’s the proverbial ledge, by the way, not an actual …” He fell into silence at her exasperated look. “Ah, right. You got that part.”
“Yup, because I’m not a total idiot,” she said, giving her head a tiny shake. “I truly hope she’ll be okay. Getting dumped sucks.” Sadly, she’d experienced too many of her own romantic disappointments, so she understood the potential for devastation. Her most recent brutal break up, which came after two solid years of dating and numerous unfulfilled promises for a rosy future, threatened to stick with her for eternity. Not that I’d tell Connor that.
“It sure does,” he said. “I’m not sure what she saw in the guy. Never liked him much, but I still feel for her.”
This coming from a heartbreaker who knew zilch about being the dumpee.
“Lindsey’s sweet and trusting. Men tend to take advantage of that.”
“Ya don’t say.” Ah, the irony.
“Okay, okay, take it easy with the sarcasm.” He reached over and patted her hand, lingering a touch too long. “Maybe I deserve that, but I assure you, I’m trying to overcome the stupidity of my younger years.”
She brushed him away. “What, you’re having some sort of epiphany? An early mid-life crisis?”
He squinted. “I’m not even thirty.”
“Hence, the early part.”
“Yeah, I’m an unredeemable asshole, right?” The man sighed. “With that opinion, it’s clear why you barely tolerate me.”
“Like you ever tried to get to know me. You were too busy sampling the flavour of the week.”
“Ouch.” He grimaced as they pulled into the parking lot. “For what it’s worth, I’m not oblivious to my shortcomings. There are many things I wish I’d done differently, people I wish I’d treated better. That includes you.”
Rowan tilted her head, assessing his words. The man certainly seemed sincere, but maybe he was a great actor, playing in his usual starring role. “Want to earn some redemption? Get your ass into that building and help me decorate for Sadie and Tate’s wedding.” She slid from the car and stalked toward the building.
His theatrics had put them behind schedule, endangering everything. The true test would be seeing him step up and make good on his word.
The pictures from Mallory, sent in the early planning stages, didn’t do justice to the beautiful space. Rowan stood in the middle of the room and turned slowly, her worries about hall feeling cramped faded away. Despite the number of guests, the high ceilings and large windows on the West side, which overlooked a glorious meadow and clear blue lake, gave the venue a spacious feel. The view to the East was just as spectacular, facing high mountain peaks. Whistler proved a picture perfect place for a wedding.
She took a long breath and closed her eyes, taking a moment to clarify her vision for the place.
“Whoa.” Connor’s low whistle seemed to echo her thoughts. “This place is amazing.”
“Mal outdid herself on this one. That she managed a venue like this in mid-summer is a miracle.” She pulled out her plans and unrolled them, smoothing her palms across the paper in an attempt to lay them flat. “We need to drape the tulle, hang all the lights and lanterns, set up the tables and chairs, and ensure everything is ready for the florist and caterer.”
She twitched as the man leaned over her shoulder, assailed by the masculine spicy note of his aftershave. “The boxes are there,” she said, pointing to the cartons along the back wall, “and everything is marked with numbers corresponding to the plans.”
The man chuckled. “Why am I not surprised you numbered and colour-coded everything?”
“Do you have a problem with organization?” She narrowed her eyes. “This is what I do, Connor. People pay me a pile of money to plan for them. I leave nothing to chance.”
“Aren’t you some sort of business strategist?” He quirked a brow. “Do you also moonlight as a part-time wedding planner?”
Given the number of weddings in their group over the past few years, it certainly felt as if she’d taken on an entirely new role. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit she enjoyed it. “I love making my friend’s major occasions special, so yeah, maybe my part-time gig is event planner. Ready to get to work? The others should be here in about two hours, but the first steps we can accomplish with just the two of us.”
Connor gave her an odd look. “You planned out the tasks by …” He cleared his throat. “Never mind. I await my orders.”
“Open box one. Carton two contains the tall folding ladder, so we’ll get started on the lights.”
He snapped a mock salute, but headed toward the piles with no argument. As he bent and hefted the first box, his muscles strained against his tight black t-shirt.
Mallory’s earlier words came back to her as she inspected the way his shorts clung to his taught, firm buttocks. A shiver coursed through her as she pictured those tight, bare cheeks, rubbing her hands over her bare legs as that night came back to her.
Their group had never been shy, frequently skinny dipping in the lake when they gathered for their summer vacation. Usually, their nakedness was hidden in the darkness, only glimpses revealed in the shimmering moonlight, depending on the night. That night, however, she’d seen far more than she bargained for, getting the full moon view in more ways than one.
The vision now hit her with force along with the desire she’d always kept under wraps. Closing her eyes, she clamped her teeth onto her lower lip and struggled to keep her breathing even. She could almost feel the smoothness of his bare ass cupped in her palms, the unfulfilled desire to have him inside her dampening her panties.
“Rowan?”
She opened her eyes, her cheeks flushing. Could he read the naked lust raging through me?
“Can I get you some water? You look flushed.” The low seductive sound of his voice, the tang of his aftershave as she sucked for air didn’t help. Somehow, the man had approached unnoticed, stopping only a few bare inches away
“Yeah.” She averted her gaze as she fanned her face. “It’s hot in here, and our late night is catching up with me.”
His curious look didn’t make her feel any less vulnerable, but he said nothing as he exited. Moments later, a sound like a car door carried into the room. Connor returned seconds later. Silently, he cracked open the water bottle and handed it to her.
She downed half of it in greedy gulps, finally leaning against one of the tables as she pressed the back of her hand to her lips.
“Better?”
She nodded. “Thanks. I don’t know what came over me.” This fact disturbed her. Maybe she didn’t dislike him as much as she thought, or perhaps, a lonely, dry mont without the benefit of a man in her bed had driven her to desperation.
“Take a minute, and I’ll set up the ladders.” He eyed her in concern. “Might be best if you weren’t climbing.”
“No, no, I’ll be good.” Waving a hand, she bent over the plans. Now they were truly behind and needed to work double time to get it done before tonight’s rehearsal and dinner.