10 Ways to Handle the Best Man (5 page)

‘Breathe into the bag—it’ll help.’ Sabrina scrunched up the paper and held it to Libby’s lips, while patting her friend’s back in what she hoped was a soothing manner.

Libby sucked in a few shallow breaths and handed the bag back. ‘How much longer?’

‘I told the organist to start the wedding march in ten minutes. Everyone’s ready, even Connor deigned to turn up on time…’ She pushed past the silly catch in her breathing at the mention of his name—and the thought of him stepping out of the low-slung convertible and striding up the church steps beside Jamie half an hour ago. Both men had looked tall and impossibly debonair in their matching dress suits, but Connor had the edge when it came to sex appeal—the dark intent in his expression as their gazes connected firing straight to her stomach and plunging low.

‘I know. Connor popped in ten minutes ago actually, while you were drilling Huey, Dewey and Louie,’ Libby said, referring to the bridesmaids with a deceptive nonchalance.

‘Oh really?’ Sabrina doubted her nonchalance was fooling anyone either.

‘Mmm-hmm. To wish me luck.’ Libby watched her intently. ‘If I wasn’t about to be shackled to his brother in unholy matrimony, I’d be sorely tempted to jump that man myself.’ Libby pressed her hands to her heart in an exaggerated swoon. ‘There’s just something irresistible about a dangerous man in a tux. Especially one as dangerous as Connor.’

‘Libs, has anyone ever told you subtlety is not your strong point?’

Libby drilled a finger at her. ‘I knew it. Something is
so
going on between you two. And he was totally touching you up at the rehearsal dinner. No way did I buy all that bollox about a misplaced napkin.’ Libby’s grin took on a triumphant tilt. ‘As my maid of honour you should fess up. It’s your duty to distract me for the next ten minutes, before I pass out from nerves.’

Sabrina smiled, the sudden urge to confide irresistible. When had she ever had a sexual encounter worth boasting about? ‘If you must know, he
was
touching me up under the table.’

‘Holy shit!’ Libby’s eyes popped to saucer-size. ‘Be still my beating clit.’ Her hands flapped furiously in front of her face as it turned a delightful shade of pink. ‘Oh crap, now I really can’t breathe.’

Sabrina laughed, Libby’s shock intoxicating. She’d spent so long being smart and sensible and boringly safe, it felt astonishingly good to be naughty for a change. ‘Brace yourself.’

‘What? There’s more?’

‘He ordered me not to wear knickers today. And we’ve arranged a safeword for tonight.’

‘You dirty little slapper,’ Libby said, her pride unmistakable. ‘I love it. One handjob turns Sabrina the Sensible into Sabrina the Slut. He must be The Man with the Golden Touch?’

‘That’s putting it mildly.’ Sabrina’s chest swelled, alongside her clitoris at the memory of that golden touch.

The opening bars of the wedding march soared into the small vestry. And Libby’s dad appeared at the door, resembling a penguin in his morning suit.

‘Baby, you look wonderful.’ A very proud penguin. ‘Now stop nattering, you two, and get a move on.’ He made a shooing motion towards the door. ‘Or we’re going to miss our cue.’ A very proud, somewhat impatient penguin.

Sabrina lifted the lavish bridal bouquet of lilies, peonies and trailing ivy from its perch and handed it to Libby. ‘It’s show time, Libs,’ she said, her throat closing at the enormity of what her friend was about to do. ‘Are you ready?’ she asked, happy for Libby and yet also a little sad that nothing would ever be quite the same again. Because Libby was moving forward, while she was staying in exactly the same place she’d always been.

‘As I’ll ever be.’ Libby nodded.

But as Sabrina scooped up Libby’s train, her friend hissed in her ear. ‘Except that I’m now going to be picturing you and Con doing it doggy style during the most important moment of my life.’

Sabrina choked down a giggle as they stepped into the cool, incense-scented antechamber at the back of the church, her melancholy forgotten in a rush of love for her friend.

Libby’s father folded his younger daughter’s arm into the crook of his elbow and kissed her cheek as Libby’s three nieces—aka Huey, Dewey and Louie—were being corralled into position by their mother, Libby’s older sister Ellie.

The strains of the wedding march echoed through the large oak doors that stood open onto the nave. The warm June sunlight filtered through the stained-glass transept, casting a shimmering rainbow onto Libby’s ivory Indian satin wedding dress. Sabrina sniffed back the errant tears. She didn’t want to be feeling wussy when she saw Connor next—it might confuse things.

As Libby’s bridemaids began their march down the aisle like a parade of ducklings in frilly tutus, Sabrina took her place behind them.

Libby grasped her shoulder and whispered. ‘So did you obey Con’s order and go commando?’

Sabrina cupped her hand over her mouth to whisper back. ‘Don’t be daft! I’m wearing a thong.’

Libby sent her a quick grin. ‘Let’s hope he punishes you for that infraction later.’

Libby’s naughty laugh punctured the strains of the wedding march as Sabrina took careful measured steps on the beat of the music, her thong riding up her now-sizzling bum cheeks and her heartbeat hammering her neck like a woodpecker on speed.

Her stomach rose up to press against her larynx as she located Connor, standing next to his brother at the front of the church. The swooping sensation in her tummy got worse as they approached the altar, reminding her of a time when she’d been backpacking round New Zealand with Libby during her gap year, and her friend had tricked her into bungee jumping off a bridge.

* * *

‘Thanks again for coming, Con, and for being my best man.’

Connor dragged his gaze away from Sabrina Millard, who was on the other side of the palatial reception hall at Grantley Manor chatting to the bride’s parents as if her life depended on it.

‘Not a problem.’ He took a slug of his beer and smiled at his kid brother. ‘I was happy to do it.’

‘And for keeping your speech G-rated.’ Jamie’s cheeky grin reminded Connor of the gap-toothed ten-year-old who’d followed him around like a puppy a lifetime ago. ‘Mostly.’

‘Sure.’ Connor smiled back, glad to be distracted from the ticking time bomb in his pants, which had been tormenting him ever since Sabrina had sashayed down the aisle towards him in that gravity-defying dress.

She’d been avoiding him ever since, flitting about like a butterfly among the guests at the sit-down dinner and now at the after-party—organising, instructing and always staying just out of his reach.

And all those stolen looks, those darting licks of her tongue across her top lip, the swing of her hips in that damn gown had been driving him nuts all evening. Inventing all sorts of hot ways to punish her when he finally got his hands on her was not making the ache in his crotch any less insistent.

But her number was nearly up. Because in less than ten minutes, according to Sabrina’s own neatly typed schedule, the string quartet playing some fancy classical stuff in the corner of the salon were scheduled to be replaced by the DJ in the huge ballroom beyond, and Jamie and Libby’s first dance would kick off.

Once that happened, Sabrina would be all out of places to run.

He slung his hand into his pocket to touch the remote-controlled bullet he’d purchased especially for later in the evening.

They hadn’t okay’d the use of toys during their sexting marathon the other day, but given her smart, funny quick-fire response to him so far, he was confident he could finesse her into losing a few more of her inhibitions.

The thrill of being the first guy to push her outside the vanilla box—and see that stunned pleasure again when she discovered her wild side—was taking his anticipation to a whole new level.

Lifting his hand out of his pocket, he rubbed his palm on his pants, struggling to refocus his attention away from the vision of Sabrina naked and quivering with need for about the fiftieth time that day. He didn’t usually have a problem with deferred gratification, but instructing her not to wear panties had definitely been a tactical error, because imagining her succulent pussy completely naked beneath her dress was crucifying him.

‘Just give me the word if you ever want me to return the favour, man,’ Jamie continued.

‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ Connor said easily, secure in the knowledge marriage would never be on his radar.

‘Sabrina’s pretty cute, isn’t she?’

Connor glanced at his brother, who was watching him—way too closely. ‘I guess.’

Jamie looked down at his toes, then shoved both his hands into his pockets. It was an uncomfortable stance Connor recognised from way back, when Jamie’s mother had been giving Connor a hard time, and Jamie had defended him. But Connor got the feeling it wasn’t him Jamie wanted to rescue now.

‘Don’t hurt her, man,’ Jamie murmured, never raising his head.

Connor felt his brows knot. ‘Hurt her? Why would I hurt her? I hardly even know her?’

What the hell? When had his kid brother starting believing the worst of him, too?

Jamie’s eyes met his at last. ‘I saw you guys at the rehearsal dinner. And you’ve been watching her like a hawk all afternoon. I know you’re planning to nail her tonight.’ He lifted his hands out of his pockets, his expression pained. ‘All I’m saying is be careful with her. You’re a player, Con. And she’s not.’

Connor’s stomach tightened. ‘That sounds like your mother talking.’ He’d forgotten about that toxic time in his life and he didn’t much like the reminder.

Jamie’s eyebrows rose up his forehead. ‘That’s bullshit. I’ve always thought you were great, man.’

He felt a little of the tension releasing, and hated himself for even caring what his brother thought. His
half
-brother. His family’s low opinion had lost the ability to screw him up a long time ago. ‘Then why should you care what I do with Sabrina? She’s a consenting adult.’

‘I care because she’s Libby’s best friend. She’s a great person. And she’s had a rough time.’

The skin on the back of Connor’s neck prickled—a sure sign that he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear. ‘Rough, how?’

‘Her boyfriend, a douche called Carl, cheated on her last summer. She’s been down in the dumps ever since. Libby wanted to hook you guys up, so you could cheer Sabrina up again.’ He hitched his shoulders. ‘But I guess I just wanted you to know she’s not…’

‘She’s not what…?’ Connor said, his tone as measured as he could make it with his temper kicking in.

If there was one thing he hated, one thing he couldn’t stand, it was being led around by his damn cock. And yet that’s exactly what had happened. He’d been panting after Sabrina like a damn dog—and bypassing his usual caution when it came to picking his sexual partners. He didn’t sleep with women who were looking for anything other than a casual hook-up—so why hadn’t he checked Sabrina out more carefully? And why was the thought of her douchebag ex making him so mad?

‘You know…’ Jamie shrugged again. ‘Your usual type.’

‘What do you mean by my usual type?’ But he had a pretty good idea and it wasn’t helping with his temper—or that grinding feeling of inadequacy in his gut that he remembered from when he was sixteen and he’d been standing in his father’s study as his stepmother had slapped him across the face, and told him to get out of their home.

‘Look, man, forget it. It’s cool. Libby wants you two to get it on,’ Jamie said. ‘And I’m sure she’s told Bree all about your rep with women. So I doubt she’s expecting anything more.’

Connor swallowed past the renewed bolt of temper. That Libby had warned Sabrina about his rep was good—not annoying. ‘Why the hell
is
Libby so keen for us to get it on, then?’

‘Libby wants Bree to lighten up. And after the night you spent at our cabin in Telluride, she got way too much information about how good you are in the sack.’ His brother sent him a furtive look that at any other time he would have found funny. ‘That actress sure could scream.’

‘Libby heard that?’ Shit, he could actually feel his cheeks getting warm. What was that about?

‘Are you kidding me?’ Jamie laughed. ‘We’re lucky you guys didn’t start an avalanche.’

A drum roll from the other room drowned out their conversation. Then an announcement came over the PA system in a crisp, clear, efficient voice that had the short hairs on the back of Connor’s neck bristling—and heat swelling in his groin.

‘Ladies and gentleman, you are now invited to the main ballroom where Jamie and Libby will be doing their first dance in precisely five minutes.’

So what the hell did he do—now he knew that Sabrina might not be such a sure bet for a no-strings booty call?

The smart option would be to walk away. To dance that damn waltz with her and then leave her hanging. He didn’t like complications when it came to sex, and this little liaison was starting to feel a lot more complicated than he was used to.

One of Jamie’s groomsmen emerged from the crowd now herding towards the ballroom. ‘Bree told me to tell you the first dance is about to start.’

‘Sure, Vik, I’ll be right there.’ Jamie turned to Connor. ‘Come on, man. Forget I said anything. Bree’s great. I’m sure whatever happens between you guys, she’ll know not to make too much of it.’

‘Right,’ Connor said drily, the renewed spurt of temper only confusing him more.

Jamie chuckled, obviously immune to the subtext. ‘Hey, just do us both a favour and don’t start spanking her until you’re out of earshot of my mother.’

The mention of the woman who had always despised him wasn’t helping the futile feeling of resentment twisting his guts into knots.

Fuck that. Why should he walk away from Sabrina? If all she was looking for was a prize stud, that was something he could deliver. No problem.

The bullet in his pocket and the small remote control that went with it knocked against his hip as he followed his brother into the ballroom. The two-hundred-plus wedding guests stood waiting, leaving a vacant space in the middle of the dance floor for the happy couple.