The Wedding Date Bargain Page 2

  “It’s been stagnant, rotting on the vine ever since Cory and his epic showing of scumbucketry,” Piper corrected with a raised brow before taking another slurpy sip.

  “You’re just being dramatic now.”

  “So you do realize it’s been four years, right?” Piper rolled the stem of her glass between her fingers, her eyes squinting as they met Sarah’s. “Four years of letting life pass you by. Look, I know Cory did a number on you. And after, you felt like you had something to prove. But you’ve done it.”

  Piper reached for Sarah’s hand and squeezed. “You know how proud I am of you, but it’s time to put a little love into the life beyond your career. You need to have some fun.”

  Letting her words sink in, Piper angled toward the bartender and asked for another round.

  Sarah shook her head, because as well intentioned as her friend was, she was totally off base. Sarah had a life, and she loved it. She thrived on the challenges of her career. Heck, she’d chosen this path, worked her ass off, and was joyfully reaping the benefits of all that hard work, focus, and determination. They were moving her to the Manhattan office, for crying out loud.

  Sarah opened her mouth, but Piper cut her off by handing her the freshly delivered drink. “You deserve a life.”

  Accepting the cocktail, Sarah clinked her glass with Piper’s. “I’m not unhappy.”

  “When was the last time you went on a date?” Piper pressed, her eyes sharpening like she was going in for the kill.

  “It’s been a while,” Sarah hedged, not sure if she could really count that brief, painfully awkward and ultimately fruitless encounter she’d had eleven months ago as an actual date. Before that, she couldn’t even say.

  “I’m sure it has. And how about that other issue?” Piper asked, with a pointed glance toward Sarah’s lap. “Any progress on that front?”

  “Hey, eyes up here, madam,” Sarah whispered, shifting uneasily.

  “How is that even possible, Sarah?” Piper demanded, her expression falling somewhere between disbelief, pity, and disgust.

  “I’m getting around to it. I’ve just been busy. It’s not as easy as you’d think, okay?”

  “Mmm-hmm. Right, well, maybe you can make it a priority during your vacation then.” Piper’s focus drifted past Sarah to the far end of the bar where another round of hoots and laughter sounded from the rowdy group celebrating there. “Since you’ll have all this free time and everything.”

  The thought had crossed Sarah’s mind. Things were going to be nuts once she got to New York. And even if they weren’t, she wouldn’t mind checking this box while she was still half a country away. Then by the time she arrived, she’d be just another girl ready to get on with her normal, albeit wildly successful life.

  Downing a long swallow, she met Piper’s expectant smile. “I don’t disagree.”

  Before Piper could respond, a couple of guys from the bachelor party descended on them amid a flurry of thrown elbows, yanked shirt necks, and panted beer breath, coming to a stop with one last exchange of boyish shoving. Which was funny, because they had to be at least as old as she was, and she was pretty sure someone had mentioned them being cops.

  “Hey, girls, our buddy’s getting married,” the shorter one with the blond brush cut and dimples explained. “And we’re out showing him a good time tonight.”

  Piper had picked up her phone and was texting when the taller one with the good hair cut in.

  “Yeah, but it’s a total sausage-fest over there. Any chance you two lovely ladies would join our party for a round of shots to even things out?”

  Dimples snorted into his hand and then shouldered past his friend. “And before you say no because Jimmy here sounds like a perv, I assure you, we’re all good guys. Except Jimmy. Who kind of is a perv—”

  “Dude.” Jimmy threw his hands over his chest like he’d been shot, earning a laugh from both Sarah and Piper. The guys were goofs. Just buzzed enough to be silly and flirty and entertaining—without coming across as obnoxious or pushy.

  Not that she’d join their party either way.

  Dimples shrugged. “Just telling it like it is.”

  Jimmy was shaking his head, laughing as he rounded on his buddy, demanding examples, which the other man lobbed back without so much as a breath of hesitation.

  Sarah’s phone vibrated on the bar next to her hand, and she glanced down at the incoming message from Piper.

  I’m betting someone at this party could have your little problem resolved in a jiff.

  Alarmed, Sarah glanced up at her friend, whose thumbs were moving in a blur.

  Another vibration of her phone.

  Unless you’re still waiting for love.

  The guys seemed to remember their goal and turned back, Jimmy running a hand over his styled hair, while Dimples nodded in that C’mon, you know you want to way.

  Even as cute as these two were, Sarah really didn’t want to. She didn’t know them. Sure they might be cops, but the idea of throwing back drinks with a group of guys she didn’t know from Adam? It didn’t seem safe or smart.

  A quick end to her virginity wasn’t that high a priority.

  She turned to Piper, but her friend’s focus had shifted to some point over Sarah’s shoulder. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted in what could only be described as awed appreciation.

  “Jesus, you two, enough with the recruiting.” A deep rumbling voice, edged with amusement and authority, sounded from just behind Sarah, freezing her in place.

  She knew that voice.

  Even eight years later, her heart skipped a beat and her skin started to tingle at the sound. No. There was no way it was him. It couldn’t be. Sure, these were cops and this was Chicago—but still, what were the odds?

  Slowly turning in her seat, she felt the air leak from her lungs as her gaze tripped over a set of powerfully broad shoulders and the tall, muscular frame supporting them; stumbled up to the solid, squared-off jaw and not-quite-straight nose she’d once run the tip of her finger down; and then finally landed on that mouth, currently set in the same off-kilter grin that had played peekaboo in her dreams for years after they’d said good-bye.

  Max Brandt.

  He was wearing dark-wash jeans with a thick, black belt and a tucked-in, light-blue, button-down shirt that was open at the collar. He hadn’t noticed her yet. Not that he’d recognize her even if he had, but those slate-gray eyes of his were fixed on Jimmy and Dimples, who he’d grabbed by one shoulder each, as they swore up and down that the girls had asked if they could join the party.

  The laugh bubbling up within Sarah’s chest had little to do with the guys clowning around and everything to do with her utter delight at seeing the unrepentant bad boy who had become her most unexpected friend all those years ago. And almost more than that.

  How many times had she thought about him, wished she’d made a different choice, and wondered what her life would have looked like if she had?

  Her phone vibrated against the bar again, snapping her attention back from the intersection of Memory Lane and What Might Have Been Way.

  Close your mouth :-) PS, I love you.

  Sarah snapped her jaw shut, but not before Max’s eyes came up.

  “Holy shit, Sarah?” he asked, his brows furrowing like he couldn’t quite believe it was her. Like he hoped it might be.

  Nervously tucking a bit of hair behind her ear, she grinned up at him. “Wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

  Max bowed his head, giving it a slow shake before bringing his eyes back up to hers. “Think I’d know you anywhere.”

  Distantly, she registered her phone sounding again, but where she’d normally start to itch if she didn’t have the message checked within a half a second, right then she couldn’t imagine looking away from the man in front of her. Not yet.

  Not with that smile st
retching wider every second. Oh, that smile.

  She’d broken every rule for that smile. Or at least she’d been willing to.

  Her phone suddenly appeared in front of her, and Sarah had to blink to recognize that Piper was holding it with the text she’d just sent displayed.

  Anything this guy asks, the answer is YES! We might have that little problem handled tonight after all.

  * * *

  Max hadn’t been laying down some line about knowing Sarah anywhere—though that was what it sounded like, even to his own ears. With any other woman, it would have been one.

  Damn, she was still so pretty it hurt just a little to look at her.

  Her hair was longer now, those loose, dark waves falling well past her shoulders, and her features weren’t quite as soft as they’d been at twenty, but the gentle hollows and defined edges the years had added looked good on her. Almost as good as that smile—the one that had hit him like a freight train the first time he saw it, and had him working like a fool to earn it as often as he could for those two months after.

  Her friend smiled widely at him and whipped Sarah’s phone off the bar beside her, shoving it in Sarah’s face so she would see the text that had been lighting it up, he guessed.

  Shit, he hoped she wasn’t going to have to take off already.

  “Sorry.” Sarah laughed, a flush creeping onto her cheeks as she gently wrestled the phone free. “Max, this is my friend Piper Morgan. Piper, this is Max Brandt.”

  Piper did a double take, her hand snapping out to grip Sarah’s upper arm, like maybe she’d heard his name before. A guy could hope.

  “Shut the front door!” she gasped, that head of blond curls working back and forth like it was on a spindle as she looked at one of them and then the other. “This is Safewalk stud?”

  A breath punched out his chest on a laugh. Based on the way Sarah closed her eyes in what he hoped wasn’t too much embarrassment, he was guessing she hadn’t coined the moniker.

  “Damn, Sarah.” He grinned. “And here I thought you’d liked me for my mind.”

  The corner of that pretty mouth twitched, and she turned her head in an abbreviated shake before meeting his eyes again.

  She glowered at Piper in that adoring way girls had that threatened murder and a hug at the same time. Man, she was cute. “I swear I didn’t call you Safewalk stud.”

  Figured. But that blush was priceless, and from day one he hadn’t been able to resist teasing her just a little to get a piece of it. “No, no, I see how it was. All those nights after the library closed, and I was fool enough to think you were just taking advantage of our security program. But it was the muscle, huh?”

  Sarah’s head fell back in a pretty laugh. “The muscle? Max!”

  Eight years ago, she’d have swatted his arm and looked away, like she was above his silly nonsense even though he knew she loved it. And in that moment, he could almost feel the back of her hand making contact with his bicep. But this Sarah hadn’t touched him once. Not a hug, handshake, or physical contact of any kind.

  Which was weird, because women were always touching him. More than he liked even, though mostly he let it go. But now, he was kicking himself for not just grabbing her into a hug when he realized who she was.

  When she met his eyes again, Sarah let out a long sigh, waving her hand in mock defeat. “It’s true. It was about the muscle. The late nights at the library were all a ruse. In fact, I’d plotted to wash all the Safewalk volunteers’ T-shirts in hot water—so they’d shrink up and give me more of what I was really after.”

  Piper snorted from her seat. “Were you going to leave out the fabric softener too?” Looking from her friend back to Max, she rolled her eyes. “Her devious plots need a little work.”

  Maybe, but Max hadn’t noticed anything beyond the playful glint in Sarah’s eyes and the invisible tug he was feeling in the middle of his chest, begging him to get closer. It was nuts. She was just a girl. But as quickly as the thought crossed his mind, he recognized it for the lie it was.

  Sarah wasn’t—had never been—just another girl in the crowd. Not that first night he’d volunteered to escort her home from the library after it closed, and not that last night when everything changed. When she’d become more than a good deed, more than résumé material, more than a friend even. When he’d finally gotten a taste of the temptation that had been slowly driving him out of his mind since the day he met her. When he’d done the hardest thing he’d ever had to do and said good-bye.

  It had been the right thing. There had been things she wanted for herself, things she deserved, that she wouldn’t have been able to have with him. But now after all these years, here she was again, and he wasn’t ready to let her go so quickly.

  Clearing his throat, he nodded back to the party behind him. “I know Jimmy and Al already asked, but it would be great if you girls wanted to join us a while.” A roar of laughter sounded behind him, signaling his reprieve was nearly over. He had to get back. “Maybe give us a chance to catch up some?”

  Sarah looked undecided, which didn’t really surprise him. But man, he wanted her to say yes. He wanted to find out how all those life plans she’d been making had panned out. Hear about what she was up to and how she’d been.

  Figure out what to make of Sarah Cole being back.

  He knew what the guy he’d been would have wanted, but Max wasn’t the same man.

  Piper took another sip of her drink and then cocked her head. “The man asked you a question, Sarah. What’s your answer?”

  Uh-huh, maybe that question was asking more than the words alone would suggest, but Max didn’t care, because after a stiff breath when he’d been sure Sarah was about to decline, she hopped off her stool and said, “Yes.”

  Chapter 3

  One little yes, and Piper was acting like Sarah had signed a blood contract with the devil. Her friend wouldn’t be getting her hopes up if she knew how things had ended between them back in school, but what happened with Max was one confession Sarah hadn’t been able to bring herself to make.

  No way would Max be helping her out with her little problem. He’d had the chance eight years ago—and passed. So, been there. Done that. Not up for another rejection.

  “This isn’t what you think.” Sarah warned her friend in the thankfully clean and artfully decorated ladies’ room. “Just settle down.”

  Piper wasn’t convinced. Dancing her way into the first open stall, she closed the door and promptly started talking through it. “Pay attention, Sarah. It’s totally what I’m thinking. Didn’t you see how he was looking at you?”

  Sarah crossed her arms, listening to the woman she trusted more than anyone. “I don’t know. He’s a player. He’s wired to look at everyone like that. He’d look at your grandmother like that.”

  “No way. This is our guy! I can feel it.” The toilet flushed, and Piper bounced out of the stall and went to the sink to clean up. “He looks like he’d be good, too.”

  That was what the rumor had been.

  “We’re just talking.”

  Eyeing Sarah through the mirror while they were touching up their lip gloss, Piper smiled. “Yeah, sure. And PS, I remember how you used to talk about him. You totally skimped on the details, because ‘crazy hot,’ while accurate, barely skims the surface with that guy.” She tucked her lips together, evening out a fresh coat of gloss before elaborating. “I mean, those eyelashes! I’d kill for lashes that thick and long, but seeing them in the mix with that chiseled jaw and sexy mouth? Gotta admit, I’m a little swoony.”

  Join the club. “Yeah, he still looks good.”

  Dropping the gloss back in her purse, Piper added, “I’ll get home on my own.” Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but Piper held up a hand. “No arguments.”

  Back in the bar, the music was louder, and the crowd had increased to the point that weaving their
way through the patrons took some time. When they arrived at the sectioned-off private party, Sarah’s feet stayed rooted where they were, causing Piper to bump into her from behind.

  This was bedlam.

  A man was standing on a table and dancing between three women, two on one side and one on the other. He was wearing a white T-shirt covered in Sharpie marker, and his face was sporting a rash of overlapping lipstick kisses in various shades.

  This was obviously the groom-to-be, based on the plushy ball and chain attached to his ankle and the felt top hat he was using to catch what looked like condoms being thrown by men and women alike from around the room.

  “Maybe this was a mistake,” Sarah said over her shoulder, looking back in time to see an older man with rosy cheeks and a well-fed middle hoist himself up on a chair and start air grinding to the music.

  Piper stepped to her side, standing close so their shoulders pressed together.

  “Bite your tongue. I wanna watch.”

  “Yeah, but from the safety of where?” The guys were rowdy. Sure they didn’t seem like they were going to hurt themselves or anyone else, but moderation definitely wasn’t the theme of the night.

  Piper elbowed her. “I’m guessing anywhere. Looks like your Safewalk stud is still volunteering to keep people out of trouble.”

  Sure enough, Max was rounding the table, amusement and concern warring in his eyes as he got ahold of the older man’s sleeve and waved him toward one of the booths bordering the area. Whatever he said, the guy took it well, throwing his head back for the kind of laugh that couldn’t be faked. And then he was walking to the half-full booth of guys.

  Max looked up, catching Sarah’s eye, and started over to where she and Piper were hovering at the edge of the room.

  Piper leaned closer. “Vacation time, right?”

  Right.