Don't Bite the Bridesmaid - Page 9/35

Edna dragged her gaze away from Noah, but her chin was set to argue.

“Yeah, Mom,” Cindy said. “Can’t I have a single week devoted to me? We can focus on Alice’s great news next week.”

Such a statement was so unlike Cindy that Alice was certain her mother wouldn’t buy it. Cindy had her faults, but needing to be the center of attention wasn’t one of them. Not even during the week of her wedding.

But finally, Edna’s shoulders relaxed and she smiled. “Of course, dear,” she said to Cindy. “Of course.” Again she waved down a waiter, and this time, he filled all the glasses at the table, with the help of one of the waitresses.

“To the happy couple,” Alice said, holding her wineglass up. The table murmured their agreement, and Alice sipped at her wine. Smooth and rich, the red wine slid down her throat with only the slightest of bites.

“To the happy couple,” Brent agreed loudly, sliding into a chair on the end of the table. He murmured an apology for being late. Noah sat a little straighter in his chair.

“Has Alice asked you for your parent’s and grandparent’s names yet, Noah?” Cindy asked. “It’s her hobby, you know. Her little obsession.”

Noah choked on his drink and Alice cringed. Could Cindy have made her hobby sound any weirder?

“What is?” he finally managed after clearing his throat.

“I like genealogy,” Alice said, before her sister could add some enigmatic yet awkward hint.

“Oh yes.” Her mother gestured to Alice with her wine glass. “Alice has traced our family back to an earl of some sort.”

Heat crept up Alice’s neck at Noah’s curious glance. “It was a duke.”

“Any skeletons in your family’s history, Noah?” Cindy arched an eyebrow at him, and he paled slightly.

“Feel free not to answer that,” Alice muttered, embarrassment making her want to crawl under the table.

“None that I know of. So how did you two meet?” Noah asked Robert.

Her appetite fled, and she forced a smile as she waited for the story she knew all too well. The pace the discussion was moving downhill, her mother would have naked bathtub pictures of her when she was a baby out of her wallet by the end of dinner.

Robert shifted in his seat and his smile looked pasted on. “Actually, Alice and Brent introduced us.”

Brent slapped his brother on the back and laughed. “What a night that was. Alice was upset because she’d gotten a B or something.” His gaze flitted to her, and she gritted her teeth to keep her smile fixed. “What was it again, ba—Alice?”

Noah stiffened next to her and Alice wondered if he felt unwell. She glanced quickly up at him, but his face was impassive and his usual relaxed demeanor was in place.

“No idea. It was so long ago.” She’d gotten a C on a final exam. Her first C. But she wasn’t about to admit to remembering that.

“Anyway,” Cindy said, ice in her voice. “Keep going, Robert.”

Robert grimaced at his soon-to-be wife’s tone, but knew better than to argue. “So it was supposed to be a small get together to celebrate Brent’s graduation. Not the big party, just informal with his close friends. I didn’t live in California at the time, but since I was in town visiting, Brent deigned to invite me.”

Brent chuckled and Robert grinned at him. Robert looked so like his brother, but they were such different people. Had she really thought Robert boring compared to Brent? Brent had always seemed so full of life and dreams. Big ideas and big actions. Robert—sweet Robert—had always been so steady and quiet.

“I took one look at this beautiful smile.” Robert touched Cindy’s cheek with a fingertip, and the look they gave each other made Alice’s eyes prick with moisture. “And I was lost.”

As Robert and Cindy shared a chaste kiss, Alice blinked back tears. Robert was a good man. How had she ever considered him boring?

The rest of dinner flew by without drama, but Alice spent the moments full of tension. Her body urging her to run, as if lying to her mother was something she could actually escape on foot. Trapped on a boat, no less.

Noah and Alice said their goodbyes, and she watched him lean over her mother’s chair to plant a soft kiss on her cheek. She swallowed hard. He was so good with them. Charming and kind and always ready to laugh at her mother’s somewhat inappropriate jokes. A bit of the wall he always seemed to guard himself with seemed to have come down. For her mother, anyway.

They headed out of the restaurant, and Alice tugged on Noah’s sleeve when they cleared the room out into the hallway.

“I’m not exactly happy about lying to my mother, but thanks for being so…charming, I guess. Tonight.”

And like she’d flipped a switch, his guarded look returned. “No problem. You play your part, and I’ll play mine.”

“Part?” A slurred voice asked.

Alice turned, already knowing who had just exited the restaurant to confront them.

“What kind of part?” Brent stopped and leaned against the wall, eyes flashing triumph, like he’d really caught them admitting something of interest.

But he hadn’t. “None of your business,” Alice said. Then she reached out and took Noah’s hand in her own, and then pulled him toward their room. “Come on, sexy, let’s go to bed.”

Noah dropped her hand the second they rounded the corner away from Brent and his prying eyes, even though letting her go was the last thing he wanted to do. He wished he wasn’t so incensed, so he could savor the moment of Alice calling him sexy.

And hell, to find out she was obsessed with—or at least very interested in—family history had almost made him even more tense. Thank God he’d sidestepped that conversation. His family history wasn’t something he could divulge. And if she decided to research his cover, she’d find exactly squat. He had to make sure the subject never came up again.

He stalked back to their cabin, with Alice trailing at his heels. He should go. Get away from her for a while. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t mad at her—not exactly. He simply wasn’t safe to be around when he was feeling so intense. Blood rushed through his ears and he saw red. Every cell in his body pulsed with anger.

But he ignored common sense and went into the cabin.

“How the hell could you ever be with that—” he struggled to find a word bad enough to encompass Brent Strub, “—fucking asshole?” He crossed the room and closed the drapes, blocking the view of the ocean beyond. The view was dark and soothing, and he didn’t want to be soothed.

Anger coated her expression, too. “What right do you have to judge me?”

“Anyone would judge you, sweetheart. The guy is obviously a creep.”

“You have no right. Not like you’re an expert on relationships. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen a woman around your place for more than a single night. Not once in five years.”

“You been looking?” he asked, and suddenly it was all he could do not to cross the two feet of carpet between them and take her into his arms. She was sexy as hell all the time, with her bright smile and fast wit. But angry, she practically glowed with energy. She’d be just as fiery in bed, he was sure of it. All teeth and spirit.

His canines lengthened in his mouth and his cock hardened in his jeans. Dammit. He turned away from her and took a deep breath to calm himself. “Tell me what happened with him.” Talking about her ex was the last thing on his mind, but it would calm him. Keep him from tossing her on the bed, shoving up that tight little dress and—

Shit. He shook his head. Get a grip.

“I was young, okay? I don’t have a good excuse. I was eighteen when I met Brent in college. By nineteen we were inseparable. And by the time I finished graduate school at twenty-four…” She took a deep breath and let it out in a ragged rattle of air as she sat heavily on the corner of the bed and then plucked nervously on the threads of the bright blue and purple bedspread. “Well, last year, right after college ended, I found out about him and Kristen. She was my best friend.”

He turned to look at her. Annoyance laced her tone when she spoke of Brent, but sadness replaced it when she talked about her former friend.

The rest of what she’d said sunk in. Shit. He’d known she was young, but twenty-five? He was a world-class jerk. Even after her confession, all he could think about was sinking his teeth into her neck. Sliding his hands under her dress. Making her call out his name.

He should know better. She might very well see him as a man who didn’t look a day over thirty, but he hadn’t seen thirty in a very long time.

He had to keep focused, and keep away from her. He sat on the couch and leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs.

“You left him. After you found out.”

“After I caught them together, yes. Brent wasn’t happy about it.” One of her dress straps had slid over her shoulder, revealing nothing but an inch more of her skin. A tiny bit of flesh, but tantalizing all the same. “But I’ve never seen him act with such venom.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. People, in his experience—and he had a hell of a lot of experience with people—didn’t change all that much.

“I know it was there, even if I was too close to see it at the time. Too entrenched in our relationship to think about what it meant. But this…” She shook her head and her brows scrunched together with worry. “He’s gotten worse. I almost feel bad for Kristen.”

“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”

“A year. He bothered me for a couple of months after I left, but then seemed to give up when I refused to see him and avoided him like the plague.”

A lock of hair fell into her face and she tucked it back behind her ear. All that beautiful blonde hair was finally free, flowing down her back. So soft. He pushed up from the couch and stepped closer to her. Her scent touched his nose and he clenched his fists at his sides.