When the doorknob rattled, Matt scrambled to his feet and took a step to his left so Courtney wouldn’t see him immediately. The door swung open.
“You stayed,” she said to the cat, bending down to scoop him up. “I was so sure he’d seduce you into leaving me. And then I’d be all alone.” Her voice wavered at the very end.
Damn. She was still drunk and upset. Evidently about the cat.
He peeked around the door, but not before securing it in order to head off any retreats. She looked beautiful even with a swollen red nose and mascara rimming her puffy eyes. “I would never seduce your cat,” he said in a soft tone. “In fact, I’ve been taking good care of Ghul over at my place. You’re the one who abandoned him and absconded with Doom.”
“I did not. You seduced him, and I simply brought him back home.” She sniffled, and her lips trembled. “But he still misses you,” she said.
“Does he?”
She nodded. “He sometimes stands at the front door and meows, like he wants to go visit you.”
“He can come over anytime,” Matt said, releasing the door and taking a step toward her.
“I guess we’ll have to arrange a playdate for him.” She looked down at the cat, refusing to meet Matt’s gaze.
“You can come over too.”
She frowned. “Not a good idea.”
He put his finger under her chin and lifted it so he could stare down into her incredible eyes, which were still brimming with tears. “Why not?”
She blinked, and one of the tears escaped. He brushed it away. “Because…” Her shaky voice trailed off, and her lips trembled.
He didn’t press her for an answer. “Come on, it’s time for bed.”
She blinked again. “Are you going to take advantage of me?”
He snorted a laugh. “I don’t do that sort of thing. I was thinking more about making sure you’re tucked in nice and safe, with a couple of aspirin for the headache you’re going to have tomorrow.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “That’s a little disappointing.”
“You want me to take advantage?”
She shrugged. “Does that make me desperate?”
He shook his head. “No. But you might hate yourself in the morning.”
“I wouldn’t.” She took a tiny step in his direction and leaned her head on his shoulder. Doom snuggled down between them and started to purr.
Matt couldn’t just stand there, could he? No. So he put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her a little closer, tucking her head under his chin. He buried his nose in her hair, drinking in the scent of wildflowers and whiskey. He wanted her.
“I need to tell you a story,” he said, speaking the words against her temple.
“Is this going to be like a bedtime story?”
He chuckled. “You have a one-track mind, don’t you?”
She looked up at him. “And you don’t?” The frown she gave him was nothing short of adorable.
“Get this straight. I’m happy to tell you bedtime stories. In fact, I need to tell you this particular story. But no sex. Not tonight. You’ve had too much to drink.”
“Damn. And here I thought you were a scoundrel.”
Doom decided he’d had enough of his people. He launched himself out of Courtney’s hands and then scampered away in the general direction of his food bowl. The cat’s exit gave Matt a chance to move Courtney toward her bedroom.
He’d never been in her bedroom before, and he’d expected a wedding planner to have something lacy and frilly and pink. But Courtney’s bedroom was none of those things. It looked like something out of a magazine captioned with the words BEDROOM OASIS. It was contemporary and done in various shades of calming gray. Damn.
Had she hired an interior decorator? Or did she have mad skills? Maybe he could ask her for a few tips on how to make his apartment look this nice. Maybe if she helped him, he could reassure Mom that he was going to be fine.
He guided her to the bed. “You want your bedtime story now, or do you want to put on a nightie or something?”
She fluffed the pillow before hopping into bed and leaning back. “It depends. Are you going to watch me put on my nightie?”
“Maybe I should just tell you the story.”
She patted the bed beside her. “Climb in. Make yourself comfy.”
Dangerous territory. But hadn’t he decided that he was tired of waiting around? So he accepted her invitation—with only the best of intentions. The mattress was soft and comfortable, like the woman and the room. He leaned back on a pillow. “Are you ready?”
She looked up at him with her tear-ravaged face. “Is this going to be a sad story? I don’t think I could do sad tonight.”
“Like all stories, it has its ups and downs.”
“Okay.” She snuggled back into her pillow. “You may begin.” She closed her eyes.
She would probably be asleep in thirty seconds. So maybe it wasn’t the best moment to bare his soul. But he’d crossed the bridge and it was time to set fire to it.
“Once upon a time,” he began, “when I was fourteen and a freshman in high school, I weighed about one hundred and fifty pounds, but I was only five foot three.”
“So it’s true. Wow,” she murmured, but didn’t open her eyes.
“Wait a sec. Did someone tell you that I was short and fat in high school?”
She nodded. “Yeah. She said you were dorky.”
“She? Who?”
“Allison Chapman,” Courtney murmured on a long, sleepy breath.
The name was like a prizefighter’s punch to the gut. It took a moment before he could collect his breath. “What did she say about me?” he finally asked, his pulse suddenly racing.
But Courtney didn’t answer; she’d fallen fast asleep.
Courtney startled awake. Something was different. She rose on one elbow, pushing her hair out of her eyes as she checked the digital clock on her bedside table. It was 2:30 a.m., she was fully clothed, and someone was hogging her
