“So are y’all planning on using traditional vows or did you write your own?” Sam asked.
“Writing your own vows is a thing?” Griff thought that seemed like a lot of pressure.
She shrugged. “Sure. Some people have something particular they want to express beyond the classic love, honor, and cherish.”
From down the table, one of the other groomsmen frowned. “I thought it was love, honor, and obey.”
His girlfriend thumped him on the shoulder. “What century did you crawl out of?”
“The vows might be the only traditional thing about this wedding,” Chloe admitted. “I don’t have a verbally creative bone in my body. But I do love the idea of writing your own. I bet you’d come up with something utterly gorgeous.”
“I don’t know about original stuff, but my brain is stuffed chock full of poetry and quotes from people more well-spoken than I am. Kinda goes with the English degree.”
“Like what?” Serena asked.
Sam angled her head, her eyes going unfocused in that way Griff knew meant she was mentally walking through that big library in her brain. “I think my favorite quote about love is from Judy Garland, actually. ‘For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.’”
Chloe collapsed back into her chair, one hand pressed to her chest. “Guh. That’s gorgeous.”
Conversation continued around him, but Griff stayed quiet, soaking up the dynamics of the group as Sam’s words rolled around in his head. She’d always had a romantic bent. It was one of the many reasons he hadn’t ever acted on the attraction he felt. But they weren’t in high school anymore.
“Been a while since you and Sam have seen each other, huh?”
Griff didn’t quite control his jolt at the question, but he took the time to finish chewing his bite of truly excellent steak to regain his composure and turn his attention to the best man. “Huh?”
Brian shot him a conspiratorial grin. “It’s just you keep looking at her like she’s dessert.”
Well, shit. He’d thought he’d been a little more subtle than that. Couldn’t be helped. She was right there in that dream of a dress that left her shoulders exposed, with her hair done up in a high ponytail that left her long, lovely neck bare. His fingers itched to trace it and watch goosebumps break out along that soft, soft skin.
Which was so not gonna happen because he was here to do her a favor, not get under her skirt. It’d be great if his dick got the message. He’d been on the verge of popping a woody since she’d walked out of that bathroom.
Shifting a little to relieve the pressure behind his fly, Griff cut another bite of steak. “The long distance thing has been a challenge.” They hadn’t actually discussed this part of their “relationship,” but it seemed a safe enough topic. The women weren’t paying attention anyway.
But Chloe apparently had the ears of a bat. She broke off in the middle of her conversation with Serena and Bridget to prop her elbows on the table and drop her chin in both hands, turning those Disney Princess eyes his way. “I’ve been meaning to ask, Griff. How did you and Sam meet?”
No reason to lie about that. “We went to high school together, actually.”
“Oh! Were you two a thing back then?”
Griff smiled, remembering all the hours they’d spent together. “We were not. She was my tutor. If not for that, I don’t know as she’d have given me the time of day.”
“So not true. If not for my tutoring you, you wouldn’t have even known my name. He was our star wide receiver. One of the cool kids. We did not run in the same circles.” Sam’s tone was self-deprecatory.
He didn’t like it.
“You were one of the most well-liked members of our class. Nice to everybody. I was just trouble.” And he had the sealed juvie record to prove it.
“I was a geek.”
“I always thought that was hot.”
Sam’s head kicked back in surprise as she gave a you’ve-gotta-be-kidding-me laugh. “You did not.”
“Did, too. Still do. All those times you thought I was bored and had to bring me back to task, I was having sexy teacher fantasies about those glasses of yours.” Because she looked thunderstruck, he leaned over and draped an arm across the back of her chair, so he was closer to her ear. She wanted a fake boyfriend. Time to make good on that. “You did pack those, right?”
Color bloomed in her cheeks as laughter rippled around the table, but he could see the dilation of her eyes. “Griffin!”
“There it is. That prim teacher voice.” He grinned. “Kept me coming back, week after week. I tell you, nobody reads poetry like this woman.”
“You hated poetry.”
“Not when you read it. Let’s see…how did this one go?
‘The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the Ocean,
The winds of Heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle.
Why not I with thine?’”
With every word, Sam’s eyes went darker, her lips parting. Griff stayed where he was, arching a brow in challenge to see if she’d finish it. Her gaze stayed on his as she began to speak.
“‘See the mountains kiss high Heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother.
And the sunlight clasps the earth
And the moonbeams kiss the sea;
What is all this sweet work worth
If thou kiss not me?”
He wanted to. Wanted to lay his lips over hers right here, right now, as he’d wanted when they’d studied this poem. One of their classmates had totally butchered the reading, and she’d taken over, reciting it with passion and conviction in a smooth voice that was leaps and bounds beyond the awkward recitations they’d been suffering through. She’d read it as it was meant to be read, and the words had lodged in his mind along with the girl herself.
She swallowed. “You remembered.”
“It would be hard not to.”
Her eyes flared at his replay of her earlier words. It was a dangerous game he was playing, admitting this much of the truth, but he didn’t want to walk away.
“Oh my God, you two are the cutest!” Chloe exclaimed. “So if you had a thing for her back then, why didn’t you do anything about it?”
“Aside from the fact that her brother, who was one of my teammates, would’ve cheerfully tried to wipe the floor with me, she deserved better than who I was back then.”
Chloe heaved a dramatic sigh, as if that was romantic or some shit. Women were weird.
Sam groaned. “I am totally blaming Jonah for the fact that there was a five year gap between my first kiss and my second. He was always sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong.”
Griff couldn’t hold back his curiosity. “When was the first one?”
“Summer camp when I was thirteen.”
She hadn’t been kissed again until eighteen? Damn. Griff wondered who the lucky bastard was and thought about all the times he could’ve changed that. What would she have done if he’d ever given into the urge to slip those glasses off, slide his fingers into her hair, and taken that mouth? She’d never been immune to him. He’d known that. Would she have pulled away in shock? Kissed him back? Griff had always assumed a girl like her would take a kiss as some kind of a promise. The kind he had no business making. So he’d kept his hands to himself. Still, his curiosity wouldn’t leave him alone.
“Who was it?”
“Who was who?”
“Your second kiss.” Probably it was some guy from college.
Sam picked up her wine glass. “Why does it matter?”
Feigning the same nonchalance, he picked up his water. “It doesn’t. I’m just curious.”
“Mason Rowland at the post graduation bonfire.”
Griff nearly sprayed the table before he choked down the sip he’d taken. “That little twerp?”
She shrugged, her lips twitching in amusement as she batted those big brown eyes up at him. “I am aware you’d have been better, but you weren’t cooperating.”
If this is what Sam was like when she flirted, it was probably a damned good thing she hadn’t tried it back in high school. Griff didn’t think he’d have been able to resist. As the others crowed in amusement, he had to fight the urge to demonstrate his superior kissing skills right the hell now. His hand curled around her nape before he could stop it, and the humor faded from her expression, replaced by something he really wanted to believe was desire.
“I love it when you go all growly,” she rasped.
Trouble. He was in so much trouble.
“So how did you reconnect?” Serena asked. “Or did you keep in touch all this time?”
Remembering they were in a public restaurant with a table full of her friends, Griff eased back. “She had better things to do than keep up with me after graduation.” Because he couldn’t resist, he ran a light hand down the silky tail of her hair before settling his arm on the back of her chair. Close, but not quite touching. “We ran into each other in Raleigh one weekend when I was on furlough from Camp Lejeune. Talked all night and wandered the city before I had to report back the next day.” That was, more or less, what he remembered from the plot of her favorite movie. Minus Vienna and trains and Ethan Hawke. “Been doing the long distance thing ever since.”
“That’s gotta be so hard.” Tasha, one of the other bridesmaids, leaned into her fiancé Cedric’s shoulder.
“Definitely not our first choice,” Sam conceded, tipping her head against his arm. “But it means we make the most of the time we’ve got.”
Was there a message in her words about this weekend? Or was this simply Sam playing a part?
It was a question Griff absolutely couldn’t get wrong.
The sun had gone down by the time their group started back to the hotel. Nerves had kept Sam from eating too much, and the second glass of wine she’d ordered to combat that swoopy, brainless feeling she got every time Griff smiled at her wasn’t doing a damned thing to keep her warm.
“It’s summer in the middle of the desert. How is it chilly?” Sam rubbed her arms and wished she’d packed a cardigan.
“Easy fix.” Griff put his arm around her shoulders, tugging her against his side.
She stumbled a step before he matched his gait to hers. God, he felt good. Warm and solid. She couldn’t help burrowing in against his heat. “You’re like my own walking, talking furnace.”
“I live to serve.”
Sam loosed a contented sigh. As they strolled companionably with the others, it was easy to lose herself in the fantasy that this was real. Griff was a damned fine fake boyfriend. She almost actually believed what he’d said at dinner.
Don’t be an idiot. He’s just playing a role.
“Oh, come on now. We’ve all got better ways to warm up our women.” Cody snagged Chloe around the waist and tipped her back into a dip, cutting off her delighted giggle with a kiss.
That set off a domino effect of the rest of the guys nibbling, kissing, or otherwise canoodling with their women. Lord, they were a horny bunch. There was no question that every single one of them had plans to get naked as soon as they got back to their respective rooms. Lucky them.
As they rode the elevator up, Sam considered it, wondering what Griff would do if she simply unfastened the halter of this dress and let it slide down. Because she didn’t know beyond the shadow of a doubt that his response wouldn’t be pity or reluctance or any other of a whole host of scenarios that would leave her dying of mortification and without a date for the rest of the festivities, she knew that fantasy was safer to keep in her head. And really, she’d do better not to imagine her bedmate naked.
That was easier said than done, as most of her friends got a head start on the foreplay during the seemingly endless ride up. Sexual tension hung thick in the air, making her aware of every dip and curve of Griff’s muscles where she pressed against him. She wanted to peel off that shirt and explore all of them with her hands.
Chloe and Cody were last off the elevator. Cody swung his giggly bride-to-be up into his arms and carted her down the hall.
“We’ll see y’all at the pool tomorrow!” she called over his shoulder.
Sam waved back. “Night!” As soon as the doors slid shut, she loosed a breath. “Good lord, I hope they all make it back to their rooms.”
“I guarantee they won’t be the first to start shedding clothes in the hall if they don’t.” Griff made no move to step away.
Maybe he was taking his duties as heater seriously. Because she was enjoying it, Sam stayed right where she was, arm around his waist, one finger hooked in his belt loop. That belt loop made her feel unreasonably possessive.
They stayed quiet the rest of the way to their room. Once inside, he let her go. No one left to perform for.
Welcome back to reality.
To hide her disappointment, Sam moved to the desk and began to remove her earrings. “Well, I don’t think anyone doubts that we’re together. You’ve got the whole fake boyfriend routine down cold. All that stuff about having a thing for me in high school really sold it. The poetry in particular was a nice touch.” Even if it had melted her panties.
“The easiest lie is the one where you tell the truth as far as possible.”
Sam paused, one earring in hand as she stared blindly at the lights of the city beyond the window. “Wait… what?”
“None of that was a lie.”
Heart pounding, she pivoted to face him. He stood just inside the room, those breathtaking blue eyes pinned on her. And suddenly it was imperative she get clarification.
“You liked me in high school? Me? Nerdy, bookish, rule-following me?”
He angled his head, looking way too controlled. Damn it, why was he always so self-possessed? “Yeah. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Frankly, yes. Guys didn’t like me back then. They were afraid of me and intimidated by the fact that I refused to act less intelligent than I was.”
Griff nodded amiably. “Oh, plenty found you intimidating. But that doesn’t mean no one liked you. Most were too afraid of antagonizing your brother to do anything about it.”
Damn it, Jonah.
“You weren’t really afraid of my brother.” They’d both been big for their ages.
“No. I was one of the few who could take him.”
“Why didn’t you?” She shook her head. “I mean, not that I expected you to get into some kind of brawl with Jonah, but why didn’t you ever say anything?”
That mouth curved, his eyes crinkling. “Because you, Samantha Ferguson, are a good girl, who had no business getting involved with the likes of me. Trailer trash with a not inconsiderable juvenile record. You deserved so much better.”
Temper snapping, she took a step toward him. “Don’t talk about yourself like that! That’s not who you were, and it’s certainly not who you are.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “You always did see the best in people. It’s one of your most appealing traits.”
He’d liked her. The object of her years-long crush had liked her. Maybe still liked her. He’d said yes to this lunatic scheme, hadn’t he? And he’d made all these admissions. He’d recited Shelley to flirt with her, for God’s sake. Surely, that meant something.
Needing to test the theory, she took another step closer. “So you kept your hands to yourself and left me to the likes of Mason Rowland?”
Those hands curled in on themselves and the look of bemused affection shifted to something sharper. “Not sure I’d have pulled it off if I’d known he was sniffing after you.”
Of course, Griff hadn’t known. He’d been gone by then, shipped off for basic training.
Feeling a little reckless, Sam inched closer. “I wish you had known. He was pretty terrible.” Another step. “I deserved better than that, too.”
That coiled tension was back, every inch of his big body ready for action. Every. Inch. It seemed there were a lot of them.
Oh my.
He searched her face. “What are you doing, Samantha?”
Damn, she really loved the sound of her full name in that rumbly voice. “Just wondering what you would have done instead.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, his nostrils flaring. “There’s what I’d like to think I’d have done and what I probably would have done. You’re still that good girl, and I’m not gonna kiss you.”
She avoided stomping her foot like a child. Barely. “Why not?”
“Because you are temptation personified in that dress, and I don’t know that I can stop. I’m not going to take advantage of you.”
Sam blinked. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.” Griff stepped around her. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
Brain still reeling from the idea that he actually wanted her and was worried about losing control, it took her a few moments to rally. “You’re six-two. You won’t fit on the sofa. It’s a big bed.”
“Sharing a bed is a bad idea.”
“We’ll make a wall of pillows. It’ll be fine. Don’t break your back on that couch.”
After a long, long moment, he grunted, “Fine.”
They got ready for bed in a silence that simmered with everything they’d acknowledged but not acted on. He wasn’t entirely wrong. She was still a good girl. Still worried about rules and expectations and doing the right thing. How did having a Vegas fling fit into that? She wasn’t exactly experienced when it came to sex, but she wasn’t prudish either. She liked to think of herself as selective. What was wrong with choosing Griff, so long as it was mutually consensual? And how could she convince him that it was, without feeling as if she was begging?
He was already under the covers, eyes closed, by the time she came out of the bathroom. As she slid beneath the cool sheets, aware of him on the other side of the Great Wall of Pillows, she tried to think what to say to ease the tension between them. Really, what words were going to be a substitute for just giving in? But he’d made his position clear, and she wasn’t the kind of confident that could just scale the wall and jump him. Nothing else came to mind before his breath evened out into sleep, and her mind was too full of the past and what ifs.
“Griff?” she whispered. “Are you awake?”
His breathing didn’t change.
“For what it’s worth, I did wish it had been you back then.”
Confession whispered to the dark, she let herself slide into dreams.