Renata quickly looked away from his penetrating eyes. She didn’t like the nervous feeling stirring around her stomach when he asked such questions. His eye color tended to change with the seasons and now it resembled a soft jade.
“Have you forgotten?” he asked.
“No,” she blurted. Every once in a while she thought about it. “I was so foolish in college. Thinking about marriage should’ve been the last thing on my mind.” Their hands brushed and she got up. “Yet, somehow I thought it would be cool to see who’d get married first.”
Why did she suddenly feel weird with him? Where did this strange vibe come from?
“I’m kinda shocked you’re not engaged, to be honest,” he said. “Or even married with a kid.”
He sounded friendly, but his words still kicked her. If everything had worked out with her last boyfriend, she would’ve been where Max described. Her last love had such rugged good looks and wry jokes. She’d imagined they would settled down in a Denver suburb and she’d balance a corporate job and a white-picket-fenced house.
With him she would’ve won that bet and got married.
“What about you?” she asked. Deflect, deflect, deflect. “I’ve tried pretty hard to find good-looking women for you.”
He chuffed. “You need to stop helping. Your blind date a few weeks ago wouldn’t let me say a single word the whole time, but that wasn’t the worst part. After dinner she invited me to have a drink at her house—the one she shares with her parents. Talk about a shocker when I tried to kiss a grown woman with her dad waiting up. I was forced to spend an hour talking to the guy.” He laughed. “With all those probing questions he asked, I should’ve left my resume and a blood sample.”
Renata coughed, suddenly unable to stifle a laugh. “They don’t know you like I do.”
Max was a successful man. He had a cushy job with a university, benefits, and his own house. He’d finished grad school two years ago and he’d been the smart one in their strange college crew. The one everybody said would get some big engineering firm job, or go to a university and earn all sorts of research grants, and then fly to all sorts of places to give important lectures.
“So you’re giving up,” she teased. “There’s no girl out there for you?”
He grinned and leaned back, resting his head on his hands. “A gentleman never tells. Even the trainwrecks need to stay in Vegas, like my uncle used to say.”
“Oh, c’mon. There has to be somebody you like. You always tell me eventually.”
He shook his head with a sly smile. The liar. The way he gazed at the wall with a content look on his face almost made her frown. But why should she feel jealous? She had never thought of Max as more than a friend. Over the years she’d come to depend on him—as a friend, though. Men were far too much of a distraction and her plump bank account told her she was better off without them.
But as she sat in this quiet room next to him, doubts filled her mind. With his arms folded behind his head, she couldn’t help but notice his wide shoulders or the way his tailored shirt clung to his fit frame. Even his slacks, over his stretched-out, long legs didn’t hide all the running he did like clockwork in the early morning.
She labeled the sprinkle of freckles along his nose as “cute.” Couldn’t she find him cute and still be friends? His jaw twitched and her not-quite-safe friend made her heart skitter.
“I’m thirsty,” she declared. “You interested in popping open one of the bottles?”
“Might as well give a toast to the bride and groom.”
The wedding. Every time she thought about it she wanted to run to the doors and bang on them until her fists hurt. Why did this have to happen on Tessa’s most important day? As her big sister, Renata was supposed to protect Tessa and be the positive person for once. Renata usually clung to her cynical ways, but today she had the responsibility of being the heroine her sis needed.
Being stuck in a cellar kind of stepped on her superhero cape.
“Do you have a preference instead of red wine?” She’d be better off for a momentary distraction. Even the liquid kind.
“I’ll let you pick.”
She scanned the shelves in the room. The selection was pretty good with some rare ones sprinkled here and there. A Chateau Montrose from 1960 in one slot. If her memory served her right that was half a grand per bottle. In another she spotted a cask of Glenfarclas Malt Scotch Whiskey from 1956. A smooth Scottish whiskey. During her traveling, she’d had the opportunity to experience expensive wines and ales. “I actually like drinks with a bite.”
Max chuckled. “A hammered officiant isn’t a good look. I’m supposed to be the dependable guy.”
She laughed at the horrifically silly thought of Max, drunk off his rocker, and the silliness was a welcome feeling. “Now, this I don’t mind opening.” She pulled a familiar top out and got what she expected. “W.L. Weller bourbon, circa 1986. This should have a nice burn to it.”
“Are you sure?” He produced two shot glasses from the other room.
“What else can we do until someone rescues us?”
“Other than drink?” His eyes danced darkly. “Probably a lot.”
She tried to ignore his sexual innuendo with a shrug, but her hands trembled as she pulled the cap off. She estimated this bottle would set her back about a few hundred bucks. Might as well get the wedding started off right!
Max held the glasses and she filled each up to the brim. “Are you sure about this? We’ll face consequences later.”
She took a generous gulp of her drink and then ran her finger along the rim, managing to avoid his assessing gaze. “Step up to the plate, Max . . .”
“Oh, I see how it is.” He clinked their glasses together and downed his drink. Before she could raise her glass, he slammed the empty cup on the counter. His eyes practically mocked her. See? I can play tit for tat. “Your turn.”
“I think I’ll sip mine.” She tried not to laugh.
“Pour me another one,” he said. “So I can go slow.”
“You’re gonna be drunk in a few minutes, aren’t you?” she chided.
He quirked an eyebrow and she couldn’t resist returning the expression. “I’ll be just fine if I take it easy.”
“Yeah, right.” The slight upturn of the side of his mouth into a smile brought heat to her face. Was she really watching him run his tongue across his lower lip? She sucked in a breath. The very idea that she wanted to taste his lips knocked her off-kilter. “I’ve actually never seen you drunk. Do you know what that feels like?”
“I don’t like losing control.”
“That’s a pity. Why not show you can?” And she was just the gal for the job! “Wanna play a game?”
“What kind of game?”
“Truth or dare is always fun.”
“Do I need to take that glass away from you?” He reached for the glass, brushing their bodies together, but she shied away from him.
“Only if you want to do something else other than drink.” Where did that come from? Now that had to be the liquor talking.
He didn’t back down. “Go ahead then.”
“Truth or dare?”
“Truth.” The words came out deep and smooth, enough to rattle her insides.
“Have you ever done something so crazy you could’ve been arrested? Something I don’t already know.”
“Yes. Your turn—”
“—I find that hard to believe. Say it.”
“Oh, no.”
“It’s truth or dare time.”
“Back in high school, during a science bowl, I streaked across a parking lot butt-naked.” He shook his head while he said it.
Renata laughed, imagining Max’s bare ass while he ran from one building to another. A titillating vision of his toned body. “You science geeks are freaks, I tell ya.”
“All right, my turn. Now do you want a dare or the truth?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Dare.”
“I dare you to down the shot.”
She pursed her lips. “Way too easy. C’mon, you can think of something better.”
He peeked at the opening on the side of her dress. “Show me what color they are.”
Her breath caught. “They?”
His gaze shot down from her breasts to her legs. He had to be referring to her undies.
“Would you be shocked if the bra and panties don’t match?” she asked.
“The Renata Underwood I know would always match.”
Her gaze never left his as she slid her hand across her bodice hem. Heat flooded her cheeks as she slowly flipped the material down to reveal the lacy white strapless bra. “They’re both white.”
“Saying is not the same as showing.” His hand moved as to reach out and lift her hem. She twitched, unable to stifle a shiver.
She shouldn’t be flashing her friend, although the liquor told her otherwise. What would it hurt to show him? Nothing at all . . .
“You want evidence?” She trailed her hand up her leg, easing the material upward along the side until her white panties peeked out. The chill from the room traveled to the apex of her thighs. “Good?”
He cleared his throat. “Just as I thought.”
Neither of them took another sip as she righted her dress. She waited for him to look away, to break the spell, to shake this strange new feeling she experienced with him. Finally, she opened her mouth to speak.
“I don’t think you should have all the fun,” she purred. “Show me your tighty whities.”
He rubbed his chin, the sexy muscles in his arms flexing under his shirt. “Is that a dare? You sure?”
“Oh, hell yeah. I’m betting one shot you’re in red bikini underwear. Two shots if you have a superhero on there.”
He shook his head. “You must be thirsty.” She watched his hands drift to his waistline. Slowly, he worked away at his belt, his gaze never leaving hers as he unzipped his pants. Here we go. Remember to breathe and don’t react when you see it, she reminded herself.
His pants slid to his mid-thighs.
She immediately grabbed the shot, slamming down the liquor while her grip tightened on the glass. Her body hummed from seeing the tight abdominal muscles over his snug, dark blue jersey boxer briefs. The prominent bulge she couldn’t unsee. She tried to blink a few times, praying the sight hadn’t been burned into her brain.
Quickly, he turned around to pull up his pants, revealing his tight ass. There went forgetting.
“My turn,” he declared. He faced her with a small smile.
“Give me your best.”
“We’ve shared so much with each other over the years, but I’ve wanted to know your darkest secrets. The things you never ask a friend.” His eyes bored into hers.
“Now’s the time,” she murmured.
“You’ve always told me you believe the best feature on a man is his smile—which I think is a line of bullshit all men hear. So what’s the truth?”
Her throat went dry so she coughed a bit. “I’ve been partial to asses.” She didn’t stop her left hand while she formed a tight curve in the air.
“And how does mine qualify?”
“That’s two questions. You only get one.”
“Humor me.”
“Ummm . . .” She tried to reach for the right words and not think about every possible dimple and tight muscle in his buttocks. “Running has been very good for you. That’s all I’m gonna say.”
She immediately moved on to the next question to calm her nerves. “Time to make things interesting. If the right girl were in front of you right now, what would you say to her? The truth.”
His right hand flexed twice over the shot glass rim. He downed the shot without a word. “I’ll pass.”
She chuckled. “Reluctant Max backs down. I thought you were dependable. Perfect grades and now the gentleman’s life.”
He shrugged, effectively ending their game when he added space between them. “My parents put pretty high expectations on me to be the best at everything.” After she poured a bit more bourbon into his cup, he took a drink.
“Well, since they paid for your education, they must have felt pretty invested,” she said.
“Yeah,” he rolled the drink between his long fingers. “Screwing around wasn’t an option. I didn’t have any financial aid. I had to work hard to make sure their money didn’t go to waste.”
With each sip, every tense muscle in her shoulders relaxed. She leaned back against the counter, far warmer than before. This was the good stuff. “You have the most awesome parents. How long have they been together?”
“Forty-nine years so far. They still drive each other crazy. I wish I had their luck.” He joined her on the counter.
Renata made a rude noise. “I wish my parents were more like yours. My dad chose work over the wedding. My mom is better off.” She took another drink to drive away the hint of frustration she got from thinking about her dad. “I really don’t see why they got together in the first place. I’m still cool with them, but I want to have a relationship with a man similar to your dad.”
“So a sixty-five-year-old man is your ideal?” He flashed a devilish grin.
“Good one. I’m not looking for a sugar daddy. I could probably be a sugar momma if I wanted. Actually, I want a man who could be mistaken for Robert Downey Jr. He’s a rebel. Aloof. That’s what I want.” She put down the glass on the counter as all her failed relationships came to mind. “God, I just want to meet the right person.”
He briefly touched the top of her hand with his. “Don’t worry, he’s out there waiting for you. Maybe even right now.”
“He needs to stop vacationing in Tibet so we can date each other.” He warmed her side and, with a nervous quiver, she welcomed it.
He gently took her chin and tilted it upward. “You’re too wonderful. Any guy is missing out on a good thing.”
Their gazes locked and the need to look away rang through her mind. He’s just a friend. He’s always been a friend. Yet, when he leaned down, she didn’t see him that way.
His warm fingers extended up her jawline, briefly coming to rest between her jaw and neck. He leaned into her, bringing the heady scent of bourbon and him. Her heartbeat jumped up the Richter scale. His face lowered and she couldn’t help thinking, This is Max, what the hell are you doing? But then again, why the hell wasn’t she doing it? His lips parted and she went the rest of the way.
A brief brush quickly turned into a breathy kiss. He nibbled at her lips, putting his arms around her to draw her closer. Their kiss deepened, bringing pleasure from her butterfly-filled stomach down to her legs. One hand remained on her cheek, while the other snaked around her waist. Slowly, their pace increased, each head naturally tilted to accommodate the other.
Reluctantly, she drew backward, gauging whether she should step away from him. She opened her eyes to see Max looking at her. Thank goodness reality smacked her upside the head.
She pushed him back. Instead of silence, the only sounds were their quickened breaths. She tried to settle her whirling mind. Wasn’t this the liquor? Hadn’t it loosened her up enough to do this with him?
“I’d apologize for doing that, but I’m not sorry.” His voice was etched with desire and her body responded in kind.
“Don’t worry about it,” she managed. “I shouldn’t have played truth or dare with you. I was just asking for trouble with all those personal questions.”
“Except for one thing, you didn’t ask anything I didn’t want to tell. It was good to get my feelings out.” He finished the drink and took hers. “I’ll dump this down the drain in the back. You don’t have to finish it.”
“Thanks.” Her laugh didn’t sound as confident.
Once he left the room, she tapped her forehead with her fist. Why did she let that happen? First, she was stuck in a room with him. Then she had to be an idiot and kiss him. She couldn’t let it happen again, especially if she was moving away for a new job. But when he stepped through the door, he lingered at the door frame, crossing his arms and assessing her in way that made her bite her lower lip.
And she was pretty sure Max was going to try to kiss her again.