The Wedding Date Bargain Read online

  But this thing with Sarah? Somehow it didn’t feel like it fell under that same umbrella. Or maybe he just didn’t want to talk about it.

  “I sure as shit didn’t steal Sean’s date. And what do you even know about that Sarah?”

  “I know you spent the whole night watching every move she made from across the ballroom. I know you had the cheesiest grin I’ve ever seen when you came back after she spilled her drink on you, and I know you had it B-A-D bad for her at the end of school. I also know that last night she came with Sean, and—”

  “And she left alone.”

  Molly snorted, staring him down. “Yeah, if you say so.”

  Max tried to hold out, but soon enough, those blue eyes boring into him had him squirming. “Fine. I met her in her office. But she wasn’t really Sean’s date.”

  “See, was that so hard?” Not waiting for an answer, Molly started cracking half a dozen eggs into a glass bowl, making the only breakfast he’d ever seen her make that didn’t come pouring out of a box and include a toy three-quarters of the way down. “So what happened? Looked like there might be something more going on with you and that Sarah than there is with your typical pickups. She seemed different. Like, not the type I’d have to worry about flashing her crotch-less panties every time the wind picked up. And unless I missed it, she didn’t have a bubbly girlfriend trailing along for whatever dirty business the three of you might get into.”

  Max’s hands came up in front of her, a protest poised on his lips, but Molly just waved him off.

  “Whatever. Even if she did, I don’t need the details. Just make sure you use the antibacterial soap by the sink before you touch anything. My point is, Sarah looked different. You looked different.” She poured some milk into the bowl with the eggs and then a generous amount of dried spices and seasoning before going at the mixture with a fork. “I got my hopes up, but today you look like roadkill. So what happened?”

  He might as well tell her—she’d have it out of him sooner or later. “Turns out we didn’t have the same thing in mind when we left together.”

  Molly leaned onto one hand, her expression warning him about the lecture to come. “Obviously, I wasn’t privy to all the exchanges leading up to your illicit meeting. But from where I was sitting, you had a look about you, like maybe you were interested in more than just your usual couple of hours of fun. So I guess I could see where she might have gotten the idea this wasn’t just a two-hour thing.” Molly paused. “If it even takes you that long. I don’t really want to know.”

  Then her face screwed up, and her head wagged back and forth in indecision as she stared at the ceiling a moment before looking back at him. “Wait, maybe I do want to know. Not the gory details, because gross, but just the time thing because when I—”

  “Stop right there!” Max choked out, pushing back from his stool. “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence. I’m begging you, don’t make me think about it.” He shook his head, wishing he could shake the seeds of those traumatic thoughts from his mind, while Molly snickered quietly to herself.

  Returning to the original thread, he clarified. “Sarah’s moving to New York in two months. So believe me, I wasn’t painting picket fences in my mind.”

  Molly half snorted, half laughed. “But that’s totally funny to imagine. Right?”

  “Uh-huh, sure. But I guess I thought that maybe it was more than just—”

  “No way!” The fork clattered against the side of the bowl. “You’re the one who wanted more than the few hours, and she wasn’t interested?”

  Max growled, rubbing his hands over his face because this conversation seriously might kill him. He couldn’t tell Molly about Sarah being a virgin. His little sister was actually pretty good about respecting other people’s secrets. But so was he, and this was no one’s business but Sarah’s.

  “Let’s just leave it at we were interested in different things.”

  For a minute, she just stood there looking at him. Then she rounded the island and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to smack a kiss on his cheek before basically shoving him away.

  It was possible Molly still had a few emotional intimacy issues left over from being raised by parents who made no secret of treating her like a burden.

  Reaching out, Max caught her by the shoulder and pulled her back in for another longer hug, because when it came to his tough-as-nails little sister, he was a softy who’d never really stopped seeing her as that five-year-old dirt ball looking at him with her big, blue eyes and asking him to read her a book.

  “Thanks, Sis,” he said. “I needed this.”

  She went back to whipping up her eggs, a goofy grin on her lips, as he dropped onto the stool at the far side of the counter. He meant it. This thing with Sarah had thrown him for a loop, and while talking about it with Molly wasn’t going to happen, it was nice to have someone to hug him when he fucking ached with regret over a choice that he knew to the bottom of his soul he wouldn’t change, even if he had it to do again.

  * * *

  Monday morning, Sarah sat in her office, her stomach knotted with nerves. Not once in her career had she considered a relationship, a dalliance, even a freaking cup of coffee that had the potential to impact her career. Men from Wyse had asked her out, sure. But she’d made it clear from day one that wasn’t happening. She’d never made an exception, never even thought about it.

  Until Max Brandt.

  What had she been thinking?

  Well, she’d been thinking it was Max. The crush from back before she’d been trying to prove anything to anyone, most of all herself. The guy she’d always think of in the context of his relationship with her, before she thought of him in the context of his relationship with, say, her boss.

  Her stomach roiled and she closed her eyes, grimacing.

  She wasn’t worried about what Sean would think about her going out with Max. Or staying in with him. Or doing whatever consenting adults might do.

  But what if Max told Sean what had happened between them Saturday night? What if he told her boss she was some crazy, manipulative psycho?

  What if she became a joke between them? What if she became a joke throughout the entire chain? Throughout the hotel industry?

  What if she’d just killed her career with one single, stupid attempt at putting her personal life back on track?

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she chided between shallow breaths.

  “Damn, Sarah, I’ve been hard enough on myself since Saturday night,” Max said from her open office door, his deep voice cutting through her self-directed disgust and making her jump. “Not sure I can handle you calling me names too.”

  “Max, what—” She shook her head, then smoothed back her hair as nerves and excitement tangled within her. “What are you doing here?”

  He was dressed casually, his broken-in jeans striking the perfect balance between hug and hang, while his collared T-shirt offered just enough cling and stretch around the solidly packed muscles of his chest, shoulders, and arms that Sarah had to wonder how he’d made it all the way to the hotel without some woman ripping it off him. He looked that good.

  And yeah, now she had a pretty good idea of how she’d managed to be so stupid. Because already, she could sense her brain cells expiring one after another.

  “I wanted to see you,” Max said, his gray eyes locked on her intently. “Make sure we were okay. After everything.”

  She closed her eyes, all the tension and worry that had been building within her since she’d left his room suddenly draining out in a rush. This man wasn’t the kind to make a joke of her. He cared about her. Even after all the years, even after the stunt she’d pulled, she could still see that protective streak shining through. Heck, she could feel it.

  With a shake of her head, she pushed back from her desk and walked around to him. “I appreciate it. I may
have been a little anxious about how we left things myself.” Taking a quick look past him, she checked that the hall was clear, then leaned against her side of the door. “I’ve never even come close to smudging the line between my personal life and my professional one before, and it’s completely freaking me out.”

  Max nodded, the barest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “I get that. It’s pretty much the same for me with the force. I didn’t really think to ask you whether it would have been a problem for you. I guess because you were Sean’s date. Sort of. And I knew you first. But for what it’s worth, what happens between you and me won’t have any crossover to what happens between you and Sean. He and I are friends, but we’re also adults and get the whole boundaries thing.”

  “Well, if it isn’t my two favorite people in the world,” came the booming voice of the last man Sarah wanted to see right then. Leaning into the hall, she winced. Sure enough, Sean was on his way toward them. “Max, you make any headway talking Sarah into staying in Chicago yet?”

  Max shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hey, man, I was on my way up to see you in a bit.” His eyes shot back to Sarah’s. “Just to say hi.”

  It would have been comical, except… Sarah stopped to consider and let the smile pushing at her lips have its way. It was comical. Her would-have-been hook-up standing beside her boss was her worst nightmare, but somehow she knew Max would make everything okay.

  “Excellent,” Sean proclaimed, beaming at them like they were his kids. “But, Max, since you’ve got a couple of hours before you have to be at work and I’m here now, what do you say the three of us go down and grab breakfast together?”

  Sarah was about to open her mouth in protest when Sean shook his head.

  “I insist.”

  “No can do, Sean.” Max had his hand on Sean’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze that seemed friendly enough, except for the way Sean’s eyes shot to Sarah and then returned to Max.

  Straightening his suit jacket, Sean returned the “friendly” grip on Max’s shoulder, his knuckles going white as he urged Max out the door. “Fine. I’ll walk you out now. Sarah, just meet me down at the restaurant in twenty, will you?”

  “Of course,” she answered, not exactly relieved. “See you in a few.”

  * * *

  Max couldn’t help the smile twisting his lips as Sean—who was probably four inches shorter and thirty pounds lighter than he was—muscled him down the hall like some punk kid getting dragged to the principal’s office.

  Obviously, Max could have stopped. But the truth was, he liked Sean’s protective streak toward Sarah, so who was he to get in the way? Especially when he’d only been trying to protect her himself.

  The elevator doors opened, and instead of going up to his office, Sean took them down to the parking level. A couple of guests were riding with them, so both men remained silent until they stepped out onto the concrete ramp.

  Sean turned on him, all but bristling with rage. “What the fuck is this?” he growled, the reaction intense enough for Max to take a step back, narrow his eyes on the other man, and wonder exactly what Sean’s feelings for Sarah were. Because this protective looked like more than professional consideration. Even with a heap of friendly intent sprinkled on top.

  “Back down, man,” Max said in a level tone. “I was just checking in to say hi to Sarah, see how she was after this weekend. I don’t know what you think was going on—”

  “What I think is that you’re blowing her off the way you always do. That you got whatever you were after, and now you can’t be bothered to have breakfast with the girl you took off my arm on Saturday night. A girl I only let go because you seemed legit.”

  “Took off your arm? Let go?” Max growled. “You said you were just friends.”

  “We are, dickhead. Good enough friends that I don’t want her heart getting traipsed over by your libido.”

  “Trust me, that’s not what’s going on here.” Jesus, why was everyone assuming the worst? And why did it make the fact that Sarah wasn’t interested in more than a night with him so much fucking harder to swallow? “Look, you didn’t accidentally run into me at a gas station, Sean. I came to her work to check in. Something I wouldn’t do if I didn’t care about her. And not that it’s any of your damn business, but my libido left her alone. We’re just what we always have been: friends.”

  Sean gave him a don’t bullshit me look, and Max put up a hand. “Friends who know better. But that’s the end of the discussion, man. Sarah works for you, and this is personal.”

  A moment passed and then, appeased, Sean straightened his tie. “See you tonight for Jill’s thing?”

  So they were good. “Yeah, see you tonight.”

  Max texted Sarah before heading over to the station, letting her know everything was cool with Sean and that it had been good seeing her. There was a finality to it he didn’t like, but the truth was Sarah wanted something Max couldn’t give, something casual and no big deal. And sitting around burning through his stomach lining while he watched from the sidelines, waiting for her to find the guy who could give it to her, didn’t sound awesome.

  Good-bye was definitely the way to go.

  * * *

  Jill was a sweet girl who had been working at Belfast since Brody opened the place a handful of years ago. No, she wasn’t the kind of friend that came over every other week with the rest of the guys. But they all cared about her.

  Which explained why this hole-in-the-wall theater was pushing about ninety percent capacity for a nine forty-five Monday night performance of a play written by Jill’s boyfriend. The kid was nice, but based on his last three productions, he wasn’t in line to become the next Oscar Wilde.

  Max scanned the faces in the crowd, recognizing about half of them. Brody had had a hand in the night’s box office success. The guy had a habit of buying up tickets and then handing them out to his hordes of friends. And because Brody was asking them to go, they always did. The guy was such a teddy bear—unless you gave him a reason not to be.

  Gotta love him.

  Halfway down, Brody was sitting with his beefy arm slung around Molly’s shoulders, talking animatedly with Jase and Emily, who were seated on Molly’s other side. There were a handful of open seats on Brody’s left, so Max dropped into one and reached across to ruffle Molly’s hair.

  “Guys, Emily, how you doing?” he asked, wincing as he realized he’d done it again when Emily rolled her eyes and laughed. He’d separated her from the guys. “Sorry, Em. You know I love you, but you’ve got too much class to be lumped in with these yahoos.”

  Emily raised a brow, the dark-brown eyes his buddy had turned into a marshmallow over flashing a bit of edge as she replied, “I know your game, Max. Trying to keep me the odd woman out. But I’m telling you, Jase is never going to throw me over and come back to you. Just accept it. I’m here to stay. So find yourself another pretty girl. This one’s mine.”

  Max laughed at their ongoing joke, loving that she gave him shit.

  Brody looked back and forth between them. “Yeah, about that. Word on the street is Max may have already found a pretty girl to replace Jase.”

  The hell?

  If any of them actually knew how it had gone down with Sarah, there wouldn’t be a word about it.

  “Look, whatever you heard—”

  Brody pushed his russet mane of overlong hair off his face and then reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask, offering it around before helping himself to a hearty swig. “I was talking with Janice this afternoon. She heard you had a pretty serious look about some woman from Saturday night.”

  “Brody, that was you?” Jase asked, leaning forward in his seat, an incredulous look on his face. “Man, I was trying to get Janice’s attention for thirty minutes while she was on the phone, but she kept brushing me off.”

  Janice was Jase�
��s long-time admin and a source of more gossip than any of them could account for.

  “Lighten up, Jase,” Brody chided. “She has a recipe for crème brûlée that’s just this side of heaven, but when I followed her instructions, mine didn’t turn out the same. She was talking me through the steps.”

  Jase sat back, and Max was about to jump back into the conversation to clear up the misconceptions about his serious status when Jase leaned back in, his eyes narrowed and his voice conspiratorially low. “So where did Janice hear it? Who the hell is she getting all her gossip from?”

  Four sets of eyes rolled, and Molly just shook her head. “Let it go, Jase.”

  Enough of this shit.

  Max leaned into the group, veeing his fingers toward his friends before bringing them back toward his eyes to ensure he had everyone’s attention. This was the last time he was going to say anything about it.

  “There’s nothing going on with me and Sarah. We were friends years ago, and yeah, there was a time when I thought maybe there’d be something more, but that’s not how it went. It just wasn’t meant to be. I knew it back then, and I know it now. All that happened on Saturday was I finally got a chance to catch up with her. Yes, I care about her, but chances are I won’t even see her again before she leaves for New York at the end of the summer. So whatever ideas you guys have, get over them. And for fuck’s sake, stop spreading rumors. Understand?”

  Instead of a round of agreement, all he got were four sets of eyes staring past him, each registering varying degrees of amusement.

  He turned to look over his shoulder and jerked out of his seat.

  Sean grinned at him, his hand resting lightly on his guest’s shoulder. “Hey, guys, you remember Sarah?”

  * * *

  Sarah had been prepared for the bad theater. Sean had warned her ahead of time, assuring her in no uncertain terms that this play would be the worst she’d ever endure. So she’d looked forward to the experience with no expectations of anything more than an evening out with her pushy boss who thought she’d get a kick out of the show and was looking for company. What she hadn’t been prepared for was Max seated with the rest of Sean’s friends. Or her boss, one of the most intelligent, business-savvy men she knew, playing dumb when he turned to her all innocent and asked, “Didn’t I mention everyone was gonna be here?” before all but shoving her into the open seat next to Max and then darting off to grab something from his car.