The optimism on her face dug its fingernails into my heart and squeezed, but I wouldn’t weaken. I couldn’t. I had to remember she was a con artist, and the doe-eyed despair was a persona she probably practiced every day. No way was I going to fall for a pretty face and a quivering lip, not again. Never again.
If I had the sense I was born with, I’d forget about it and head to my parents’ house, but I knew if I tried to walk out the door, my feet wouldn’t move. I’d been in Tessa Maken’s bizarro world for all of ten minutes, and I wasn’t ready to leave.
“It’s time we got to work, darling,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “Like you said, there’s a wedding to plan.”
Her nostrils flared, and her clenched fists were all set to pummel me. The way she stood up to me. Stood up for what she believed was right was as sexy as hell. And the fact I found her attractive pissed me off no end.
“You’re a nasty piece of work,” she spat.
“I’m sorry you think that. My friends and family would say I’m a pretty decent fella.”
“I doubt it.”
The sharp sting in her words annoyed me more than it should have. I shouldn’t care what she thought about me. Shouldn’t care if she despised me or that she’d gladly run me over ten times before setting me on fire, but I did.
“It must be honeysuckle pink, Mr. McCabe. You’ll find the exact Pantone reference online.” From the staircase, Barb’s scathing voice sped toward us. Brendan trailed behind her, looking like a naughty child. The browbeaten mountain of a man glanced in Tessa’s direction, his eyes sending out distress signals.
“Brendan will do what he can, Barb.” With liquefied elegance, Tessa straightened her spine, and a cool, professional expression replaced her vulnerability, but she couldn’t hide the slight shake in her hand when she smoothed her hair. “Brendan, if you don’t mind, I’ve emailed you some contracts that I need signed, and Barb, we should FaceTime with Violet to finalize some details. Let’s use Brendan’s office. The wi-fi’s strongest there. You—” she threw me a patronizing glance, “—wait in the kitchen.”
Oh, she was good, I’d give her credit for that. Unable to resist touching her, I reached out and wrapped an arm around the gentle curve of her waist. “But honey, I should be by your side to help make sure everything runs to plan.”
She stepped away and batted her sooty eyelashes at me. “That’s not necessary, honey. There are details I want to handle on my own.”
The corners of my lips lifted into a wide smile. “I disagree. You know how you are when it comes to wasting money. I can help you stay on budget.”
She stood on her tiptoes, and when her lips grazed my ear, my crotch throbbed.
“Don’t even go there,” she whispered.
I dipped my head, the scent of vanilla drifting from her neck filled my senses, and I couldn’t resist nipping her earlobe. The taste of her skin caught me off guard, and the need to taste more almost overwhelmed me.
Tessa sucked in a sharp, shaky breath. It seemed my touch affected Ms. Maken more than she would’ve liked.
“Your designer shoes and purse tell me that’s exactly where I want to go.”
“They’re fake.”
“Just like you.” I stood back and watched as her shoulders slumped, and her eyes fell in surrender. Victory was mine, but it was a hollow win. Christ, why was I acting like such a cruel bastard? If my mother ever discovered my dickish behavior, she’d clip me around the ear, but something about Tessa pushed every one of my buttons and getting a reaction from her—any reaction—mattered more than everything else.
“Fine,” she said. “You can sit in on every meeting if you want. I’m sure your input will be valuable.”
“I guarantee it will be.”
Barb gave a forceful sigh and a tired eye roll. “If you two are done bickering, I’d like to get started.” She fished inside the black pocketbook hanging over her shoulder and pulled out a vape pen. “I knew the whole fated true love thing you sold Violet was a crock. But she wants a storybook wedding complete with an indoor forest of twinkling trees and fake snow, and I’m going to make sure she gets it. Youse lovebirds better make sure she gets it, too.”
Tessa’s calcified body pressed against my side. If I shifted my weight, I could break all contact with her, but I didn’t want to. The heat of her body seeped through my many layers of clothes to my skin, causing my chest to constrict. My fingers curled around her waist as if they belonged there. As if the soft curve of her body was designed for my hand alone. Being this attracted to her verged on insanity. She was my nemesis, a fraud, a fake, but instead of removing my hand, I pulled her closer.
Barb took a hit from her vape pen, the nicotine fix seeming to do little or nothing to soothe the edges of her agitation. “Lemme tell you, if it wasn’t too late to find another wedding organizer, your cute ass would be out the door so fast, you’d leave your skin behind. Violet should have listened to everything I uncovered about you. But would she listen? Would she? No. Said she trusted her gut about you. Had a good feeling.” She folded her arms and continued her tirade toward Tessa. “She also had a feeling about her last goddamn husband. And look what that got her. A twenty-million-dollar sized hole in her bank account.”
I didn’t want to sabotage Tessa’s efforts—not yet. For now, I’d hold all my cards close to my chest, but when the time was right, I’d expose her for what she truly was. Guilt
