3
JUSTIN SWITCHED ON the light in his apartment and headed toward his bedroom to pack.
This had been an interesting day. In an attempt to do laundry, he’d knocked out Ross and had become embroiled in a wedding scam. It was as though life had broken the hold Justin had put on it and had finally exploded in his face.
And he didn’t care. To his surprise, he was having fun. He hadn’t had fun for so long, it had taken him a while to figure out that’s what he was doing. He knew that according to the master plan, it wasn’t time for him to have fun yet, but he enjoyed pretending to be Sloane and fooling everybody. With each question came the danger of discovery and the rush afterward when he and Hayley escaped one more time.
Justin was good at acting, if he did say so himself. It was the attention to detail that was important, something Hayley didn’t seem to grasp. For instance, why hadn’t she hired anyone to be Sloane’s wedding guests? Ross would know a dozen actors who’d do it for the free meal alone. Hayley hadn’t even hired a best man.
Hayley. He liked her. Okay, he was attracted to her and she wasn’t the type he wanted to be attracted to right now. He didn’t even want to be attracted to her type when he could afford to. Her type was the marrying type. His type wasn’t.
One day he would be, but marriage was an enormous responsibility that he wasn’t about to take on yet. He’d end up resenting any woman who tied him down before he’d had a chance to fly.
He had no idea why Hayley was pretending to get married. Yes, he’d seen how her mother and sisters had weddings on the brain, but Hayley didn’t seem to be the sort of woman to be cowed by them, unless she wanted to be. Must be an interesting story. He could hardly wait to hear it.
Justin couldn’t remember the last time he had looked forward to a day. He’d called in and told his supervisor he was taking a long weekend off. The woman had sounded relieved. Maybe there was such a thing as too much overtime. Maybe they needed a break from him as much as he needed a break from them.
He stuffed a couple of clean shirts into a duffel bag, then stopped. Somebody flying into his wedding from overseas would have more substantial luggage.
Justin unpacked the duffel and dragged out his suitcases. He put a pillow into one and his clothes into another, then he changed the identification tags. He wasn’t certain how she’d spelled Sloane, so he smeared the end a bit.
Details. It was all in the details.
Satisfied, he flipped off the light and headed to the hospital to see Ross.
IT WAS ELEVEN O’CLOCK at night and Hayley had a monster stress headache. She’d flung off her jacket, but otherwise had sprawled, fully clothed, on the bed in her suite at the Peabody. In her hand she clutched the business card of one Justin Brooks, IRS attorney.
At least she finally knew his name. And his occupation.
She groaned. She couldn’t believe that she’d strong-armed an attorney to help her—or that he had.
They’d convincingly endured the wedding rehearsal and then dinner with her family, but he’d left to pack. She was now waiting for him to come back to the hotel so she could fill him in.
So far, she’d managed to explain away his vague and contradictory answers as jet lag, but truthfully, he was so good-looking and charming, her mother and sisters hadn’t cared.
Hayley liked his approachable good looks. His generous nose saved his face from prettiness and his haircut said “barber”and not chichi stylist.
And, of course there was his incredible talent for kissing that she wouldn’t think about because there wasn’t much likelihood of it being repeated, more’s the pity.
Hayley brought the business card to her mouth and rubbed the engraving across her lips, getting a little thrill when they tingled. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.
The door of the room next to hers opened. Hayley sat up. “Justin?”
“Or Sloane. Take your pick.”
“Where have you been?” Hayley walked through the connecting door.
“Did you think I’d deserted you?” Justin carried his suitcases over to the luggage rack.
She sat on the bed. “No.” Interesting. Justin not returning to the Peabody had not occurred to her. “You’re not the type of person who’d run out on somebody.”
“You’re right, I’m not.” Justin half smiled, half grimaced as he unzipped his suitcase. “But how do you know?”
“What do you mean, how do I know? I just do.”
“I really want to know how you can tell. I’m getting ready to change my character type and I want to know the giveaways.”
“Why do you want to change your character?” she asked, instead of answering his question. It was a stupid question anyway.
“I’ve been boringly steady and responsible for most of my life and I want to ‘walk on the wild side’ before I settle into responsibility for good.” He hung up two pairs of pants, two shirts and tossed his socks and underwear in the drawer. “I want to be the kind of man who attracts a wilder sort of person.”
“You mean women, don’t you?” Hayley had a hard time keeping the sneer out of her voice.
“Yes. Shallow women who’re interested in fun and aren’t ready to settle down.”
Well, that let Hayley out.
He gave her a sideways look. “I shouldn’t admit that, should I?”
At least she knew exactly the type of woman he wanted. How disappointing. “A boringly responsible man wouldn’t have.”
He grinned. “Then there’s hope for me.”
Too bad there wasn’t hope for her.
Justin held up a suit. “I didn’t know if I’d need this or not.”
Hayley waved it away. “You’ll be fitted for a tux tomorrow. Oh, and I can either pay you in cash, or give you gift certificates to men’s clothing stores.”
It was Justin’s turn to wave her offer away. “I’m not taking your money.”
“But that’s what we agreed.”
Shaking his head, Justin stowed his suitcases. “You offered, but I agreed to do this because you were in a jam and Ross is in the hospital. He wouldn’t calm down until I told him I’d talk with you. I just saw him. by the way. Had to sneak past the nurses.”
Hayley imagined that all Justin would have had to do was throw a couple of smiles their way and he wouldn’t have needed to sneak at all. “How is he doing?”
“He drifts in and out, but I think he understood the gist of what I told him.” Justin had wandered over to the credenza and read the tag on the enormous fruit and snack basket. “‘Congratulations and Best Wishes from the Management.’ You’re really going all out with this wedding, aren’t you?” He studied the basket, trying to see through the plastic wrap.
“You’re allowed to eat it, if you want,” Hayley said. “But if you don’t want the chocolate, toss it my way. I already ate mine.”
Justin dug in his pocket and removed a small penknife. “I see macadamia nuts. Trade?”
“Deal.”
With the precision of a surgeon, Justin extracted the chocolate bar and tossed it to Hayley. She missed and it bounced on the bedspread.
The bedspread. She’d just walked into a virtual stranger’s room and lounged on his bed. How very... relaxed of her.
Self-consciously she reached for the chocolate and stood, taking the opportunity to retrieve the macadamia nuts from her own basket.
When she returned to the room, she sat in a chair in the sitting area.
If Justin realized why she was doing so, he didn’t let on. He’d been raiding the minibar and held up a bottle of fruit-flavored water. When she nodded, he carried over two bottles, then sat in the chair next to hers.
“Okay, talk,” he said, getting to the point. “I’ve got to know why we’re doing this.” He opened the can of nuts and offered it to her, then leaned back when she declined.
So Hayley talked. She told him the story of winning the wedding and what it meant to her mother, going back and filling in the details while all he did was nod and crunch and not interrupt her. She felt such relief in telling someone, especially someone who listened without judging her. Ross had only been interested in the character of Sloane and not in the reasons for his creation.
“So what about this Sloane guy? Where is he?”
Hayley toyed with the idea of not telling Justin. Instead, she chose to avoid looking at him. “I made him up. He never existed.”
The crunching stopped. “Did you make him up before or after you won the wedding?”
Hayley gave in, opened the imported chocolate bar and fortified herself with a mouthful of raspberry truffle. “Before. Long before.”
“Why?”
“Because.” How could a good-looking, apparently successful man like Justin understand? “Because I was tired of going on blind dates set up by my mother and her friends. Because I was tired of being questioned about why I didn’t have a boyfriend and then being compared to my sisters and...then hearing my mother explain that I look like my father, as though it’s a flaw I’ll have to overcome.” Hayley hadn’t meant to say the last part. She hadn’t even realized it herself until she’d said it.
She would have given anything—even the rest of the chocolate-raspberry truffle bar—to recall the words.
Now he’d feel obligated to make some remark about how pretty she was, and she didn’t want a pity compliment.
She didn’t get one.
“So you made up a guy to get your mother off your back.” He resumed crunching. “Logical. I did the same thing once. Ross is always trying to fix me up. There was this actress friend of his.” Justin stared into the can of nuts. “She never wore shoes.” He looked up at Hayley. “I mean, never. Don’t know how she got away with it onstage. I told him I was seeing someone at work.”
“You had to make up someone? I can’t believe you—I mean any woman would be thrilled to go out with you,” she gushed, unprompted.
He smiled as he dug out the last of the nuts. “Thanks.”
Wait a minute. Wait-a-minute. She’d just given him a version of the pity compliment she’d expected to receive.
And where was it? Rejecting a pity compliment wasn’t satisfying if you never got it.
“So you made up this Sloane guy. By the way... Sloane Devereaux?” He shook his head. “Next time pick a regular name, okay?”
“There isn’t going to be a next time,” Hayley said distinctly.
“I guess not if you convince your mother you’re married.” Justin tossed the empty can into the trash. “Have you thought this all the way through? Now, a weekend is one thing, but I have to tell you, I’m not going to be able to bail you out during the holidays. Well, maybe Thanksgiving if you let me bring my mom and stepdad. We can tell everyone they’re long-lost second cousins, or something.”
“Your services won’t be required on Thanksgiving.” This conversation wasn’t going the way she’d expected. “And for your information, I have thought things through. Sloane will be returning to El Bahar after the wedding.”
“Without you?” He reached for his water and tilted the bottle to his lips. “Now that’s unbelievable.”
Amazing how a little offhand remark could bolster a woman’s feminine self-confidence when a pity compliment wouldn’t. Wondering if he realized what he’d said, Hayley glanced at him. His gaze flicked over her, then locked on to hers.
He knew.
They stared at each other in one of those silences in which a lot was said without anyone uttering a sound. Hayley was thinking about the rainbow of love and how it might apply to Justin.
Judging by the way Justin continued to watch her as he drank his water, he was thinking the male equivalent.
Where had all the air in the room gone?
“Well, Sloane’s job... Women aren’t allowed to live in El Bahar.”
“What do they do with their women?”
She laughed too loudly. “I meant foreign women.” Since when did she get rattled when a handsome man gave her the once-over?
“And how long were you planning to remain in this long-distance marriage?”
“Until my mother and my grandmother are settled in Sun City, Arizona. Mama won’t leave until I’m married, and I won this wedding, so I’m going to use it”
“That’s a lot of pressure to put on a daughter.”
“Oh, no. She never would have told me. In fact, I was ready to give the wedding back. It was just chance that she mentioned her plans before I did.”
“Mmm.” Justin set the bottle on the glass table. “You do know that you have to declare the value of your prize as income and pay taxes on it?”
Right. He worked for the IRS. “An agent explained it all at the time I won. But Mama doesn’t realize this, and you’re not to tell her. Otherwise, she won’t use the money she’s saved to move.”
He twirled the empty bottle. “It seems like such a waste. It’s too bad you aren’t really engaged.”
“Yeah.” And it’s too bad we didn’t meet months ago.
If ever there was a chocolate moment, this was it. Hayley peeled back the foil and indulged.
“Couldn’t you—”
“No.” She swallowed. “No, I couldn’t find anybody. And let me tell you, dating in this town when your mother is planning your wedding and all her friends know it, isn’t all that easy.”
A corner of his mouth tilted upward. “I can see that it wouldn’t be.”
“You have no idea,” Hayley said, and bit off another hunk of chocolate.
 
JUSTIN IDLY TWIRLED the bottle, watching the cherries on the side rotate like they were in a slot machine.
Were the men of Memphis blind?
While he himself wasn’t in a position to support a wife, Hayley was an appealing, wholesome, girl-next-door type with a quick and pretty smile, and a great mouth.
He remembered how that great mouth had felt against his and mentally deleted “wholesome” from the description, not that being wholesome was a bad thing, if it meant kissing the way she did.
Justin hoped that the women he intended to pursue could kiss like that. He certainly meant to find out.
He waited for the anticipatory zing he usually felt at the thought, and when he didn’t feel it, he knew the blame lay at the feet of the chocolate-eating, bridal impostor sitting five feet away.
She and her kisses had stolen his zing. She’d spoiled him for the party girls of Memphis. No matter who he kissed from now on, he’d compare their kisses with hers. He should kiss her again. That first kiss must have been a fluke. He hadn’t kissed anybody for a long time, and it was probably the act of kissing, itself, that had prompted his reaction, and not her in particular. A second kiss would verify his theory.
He half listened as she blathered on about photographs and luncheons and fittings, which he presumed were on the agenda for tomorrow.
He should lean across the space between the chairs and kiss her right now. Ross was always telling him he needed more spontaneity in his life.
On the other hand, she might spontaneously scream or slug him.
Maybe there would be kissing opportunities tomorrow. He could create some. If nothing else, there was always the “you may now kiss the bride” portion of the wedding ceremony. He’d kiss her then for sure.
The zing he felt at that thought zinged him right to his feet.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, eyes wide, extremely kissable lips parted.
“I—nothing.” It was the freckles. They fooled a man into thinking “wholesome” at first Justin wasn’t thinking wholesome now.
“Are you sure?”
Justin scrambled for something acceptable to say. “What about the ceremony? Is the judge clued in?”
“No. There isn’t going to be a ceremony.”
No ceremony? No kissing the bride?
“Right before, we’ll have a fight and you’ll go stomping off. I’ll lock myself here in the Peabody and insist that Mama go on to the boat and see that everyone enjoys the cruise. I understand there’ll be a fabulous buffet. Lobster, I think. Anyway, I’ll leave a message at the hotel in Vicksburg telling Mama that we made up and eloped.”
Justin had never before noticed how sensuous a mouth looked when saying the word eloped.
“I’ll also mention that the fight was because you had to skip the honeymoon and go right back to El Bahar and I was trying to talk you out of it. You’ll be gone when she gets back.”
“And you won’t get to enjoy any of the wedding?”
“I’m not doing this to enjoy the wedding. I’m doing this so Mama will believe the last of her little chicks has left the nest.”
The plan was preposterous. She’d have better luck showing up at a tax audit without records. “Do you actually think your mother will leave you here and party down the Mississippi at what was to be her daughter’s wedding reception?”
“She has a duty to her guests.”
“But she’ll be upset. You’ll be upset. Everybody will be upset.” And he—or Sloane—would come off looking like a first-class jerk.
Hayley sighed. “She’ll do it to squash gossip.”
Justin was all for that. Actually, not being seen by the wedding guests would be better for him. “But won’t she be disappointed to miss her daughter’s wedding?”
“She has plenty of experience at being disappointed in me.”
There was a world of hurt behind Hayley’s stark statement, more hurt than Justin could soothe with a few pat phrases.
He understood better than she’d guess. Right now she wore the same expression Ross did when he talked about his family. Justin wondered if Ross had picked up on the similarities. Probably, and that’s why he’d been so determined to leave the hospital.
Justin sat on the arm of Hayley’s chair. “I don’t like Sloane very much.”
“He apparently is the best I can do.”
“If I thought you believed that, I’d be tempted to prove you wrong.”
“And I’d be tempted to let you.” She looked up at him.
He looked down at her.
It was the perfect cue for a kiss.
And the perfectly wrong time for it.
Justin wasn’t available on any emotional level that mattered to her at this moment. At this moment, she was thinking marriage and all he was thinking of was a kiss.
So he stood and walked to the minibar, pretending to examine the contents. “You know, for a breakup fight to be believable, we’ll have to show ahead of time that there’s trouble in paradise.”
She nodded. “Maybe you can keep excusing yourself to call El Bahar, or report that they’ve been calling you. I already stressed to Mama how difficult it was for you—Sloane—to get away. After all, none of your friends could.”
He closed the minibar. “I meant to ask you about that. Shouldn’t you hire some wedding guests for Sloane? It’s going to look real strange that this guy can’t drum up a single guest.”
Hayley leaned her head back. “I couldn’t afford to pay anyone. I’ve had to apply for loans to cover the taxes as it is.”
At the word loan, Justin stifled the automatic clenching of his stomach. He hated being in debt. And at least he had his education to show for it. She’d have nothing.
“It’s getting late and tomorrow will be crazy.” She stood and stretched.
“Today had its moments.” Justin tried to ignore the way her blouse stretched tight enough to outline the lace on her bra.
“Yes, but tomorrow the bridal fair people will be running us all over town, taking our pictures for this year’s brochure.”
“What brochure?”
She dropped her arms. “For the Memphis Bridal Fair. Each year, the couple who won the wedding appears in the advertisements from the exhibitors who donated the prizes.”
Lots of exposure for moi. Now Justin understood the appeal to Ross. But Justin didn’t want exposure. “I can’t be in the brochure.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t win the wedding. You did.”
“But you’re the groom.”
Justin tapped his chest. “I’m not the groom. I’m only pretending to be the groom.”
“People won’t know that.”
“That’s my point. Sloane may be going back to El Bahar, but I’m not. I live here. I work here. And I hope to date here.”
“Oh.” Her teeth tugged at her lower lip.
“Yes, ‘oh.’” Did she have to draw attention to her mouth that way? He paced. “Hundreds of single women will see pictures of me as a married man.” He stopped and pointed at her. “And you think you had trouble finding dates.”
Hayley looked hurt. “Ross didn’t mind about being in the brochure.”
“Ross is a professional actor and model. Women know that.”
“Well, tell the hundreds of single women you apparently want to pursue that we broke up.”
“That’ll make me look real good.”
She smiled—no, that was a smirk. “You’ll be using a different name. They won’t remember.”
“Yes they will. Women will think I changed my name so I can cheat on my wife.”
“So you want to use your real name in the brochure?” Hayley walked toward the connecting door.
“Not!”
“Then ask them to photograph you from the back. It’s probably your best side anyway.” She grinned over her shoulder.
“Oh, sure. Laugh it up. Your dating life isn’t being ruined.”
“What’s left to ruin?” Sighing, she turned in the doorway.
Justin stopped short. “Hey. You’ll find somebody.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorjamb. “That’s what I keep telling myself, but I’m getting harder to convince.”
As her gaze met his, there was another of those potent silences.
Tell her good-night and shut the door. “Good night,” he said, but didn’t shut the door.
She looked down at her foot, which traced the floral pattern in the carpet. “I’m sorry about you being in the brochure.”
“Don’t worry about it. I was teasing you. Those women are supposed to be engaged anyway,” he said, before realizing it wasn’t the best comment to make.
Hayley didn’t seem bothered. “Thanks for doing this for me. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t,” she murmured, her voice so low, Justin had to take two steps forward and bend his head to hear her. “Ross has a very good friend.” She raised her head unexpectedly, bringing her lips inches from his. “And I like to think I do, too.”
The instant when he should have lifted his head came and went.
The instant when she should have pulled away came and went.
The only instant left was...
“Damn,” he whispered, and kissed her.
Only their lips touched. He tasted the sweetness of chocolate and felt the warmth of her incredible mouth.
He could pull away now and call it a friendly good-night kiss.
The instant when friendly became something more. came and went and Justin was still kissing her. In fact, he now held her lightly by the shoulders.
Her arms uncoiled and she wrapped them around his waist.
How could he stop himself from drawing her closer?
Once more, he marveled at how right she felt in his arms. He could kiss a hundred women and not find one who fit as though she were made for him, the way Hayley did.
She tilted her head back and he felt the ends of her hair brush his hand.
He liked her hair and the way it swung when she moved her head, the strands flowing like heavy silk. Burying his fingers in it, he deepened the kiss.
The first kiss hadn’t been a fluke and the second kiss only made him want more.
He was behaving badly, and he knew it. This woman wasn’t what he was looking for. The problem was that he could no longer remember why.
Her blouse was made of a smooth, slinky material through which he could feel the texture of her skin and the muscles in her back as she tightened her arms around him. He stroked his hand up and down, learning her shape.
It was when she made that little sound deep in her throat again that he knew he was in trouble.
Subconsciously he’d been waiting for the tiny moan, determined to hear it and feel it again, knowing it was proof that she was as affected as he was.
And just what did he intend to do with this knowledge? Hayley was emotionally vulnerable and he had no business taking advantage of her.
Justin prided himself on being an honorable, decent man.
Kissing her was not honorable, and currently bordered on indecent.
He was taking advantage of an emotionally vulnerable woman.
The emotionally vulnerable woman squeezed his butt.
Justin’s knees nearly buckled, and with a gasp he broke the kiss. “You, ah...”
She smiled. “Yes I did.”
He looked into her eyes and saw the ruin of his master plan.
But drawing on the strength of experience hardened by fourteen years of denial, Justin willed a cool smile and a cooler response. “I thought so. Well, good night.”
How he managed to force himself to close the door instead of grabbing her again, he never knew. But once the door was shut and he heard hers click, as well, he leaned his forehead against the painted wood.
He hurt. He ached. He wanted.
He’d been bamboozled by freckles and a pretty smile—that’s what had happened. Smiles and freckles weren’t supposed to pack such a wallop.
Kissing her the first time was where he’d gone wrong, Justin thought, his head still against his connecting door. No, not cleaning up that detergent was the mistake.
If he’d cleaned up the detergent, then Ross would be here now. Ross would have been the one kissing her. Justin wouldn’t even have met her.
He never would have seen her smile or known how her mouth tasted or how her body felt against his or heard the little sound that she made deep in the back of her throat.
But Ross might have.
An overwhelming, baffling and totally unreasonable surge of jealousy spurted through him.
What had this woman done to him?
Hayley’s door opened again and she knocked, forcing Justin to endure another hormonal attack. Cautiously he opened his door.
“Justin?”
“Yes?” His voice sounded like sandpaper.
“I have to know.... Was that a pity kiss?”
Lie. Tell her it was. Better to hurt her now than hurt her later. Lie before it’s too late. He stared at her, at her wide eyes, the proud tilt to her chin and those sneaky freckles, doing a mocking dance across her nose.
“No,” he admitted.
“I didn’t think so.” She smiled. “Night.”
And she shut the door.