Be Mine, Sweetheart (Something Borrowed) Page 3

  Realizing she was being entirely inappropriate about a potential client, she held her hand out. “Kelly Barrow.”

  He gripped her hand in a firm pump. “Nice to meet you. Call me Hank.”

  “I will. You, of course, can call me Kelly.” She went around to the back of the desk and flipped her planner open to take notes. “Now, I understand that you’re paying for your younger sister’s wedding?”

  Hank took a seat in the empty chair across from her. “Yes, that’s right. I want Julia to have the best and according to several friends of mine, that’s you.”

  Kelly wanted to preen, but refrained. She’d built her business and reputation of being discreet while creating beautiful weddings for celebrities. There had been a few hiccups over the years, but overall, Something Borrowed Wedding Solutions’s reputation was unblemished. Professional bridesmaids for the woman who needs an extra body, or someone to handle all the details her flaky cousin or workaholic best friend couldn’t.

  “That is lovely to hear. Is Julia in town with you?”

  Hank picked up the binder and waved it at her. “No, but she gave me a list of demands…I mean, plans. Actually, it’s more like a manual. Julia has rather simple tastes in decor.”

  His fond grin told her he was teasing, but she figured there was probably some truth in his words. Most siblings she knew had a love/annoyance relationship with each other.

  “Julia’s a model, right?” Kelly said.

  “The new face of Ralph Lauren. She’s on a photoshoot overseas now and I had some time between filming, so I figured I’d fly up here and get the ball rolling.” He set the binder on the edge of her desk and sat back in the chair, his lips kicking up at the corners. “Besides, I’ll admit, I was curious about you.”

  Kelly was sure she was blushing. “What about me?”

  “What you were like in person. If you were really as charming as you seemed over the phone.”

  “And what have you decided?”

  His stormy gray eyes were breathtaking. “I’d say more so, now that I’ve seen the entire package.”

  Kelly cleared her throat. “Are you flirting with me?”

  Hank’s deep chuckle was a toe-curler to be sure. “Normally women don’t have to ask, but yes, I am.”

  Kelly reached out to grab the binder, avoiding his gaze as she set it next to her planner. “Well, then I suppose I should tell you the number-one rule here is to never date clients or their friends and family.”

  “Damn.” Her gaze met his, surprised by his disappointed frown. “That puts a damper in my plans to take you to dinner. Perhaps we could call it a business meeting?”

  Talk about charming, the man had an arsenal of the stuff. It was very hard not to laugh. “Considering I know where your head is, no I don’t believe we could.”

  Hank stood up, leaning over the desk with what could only be described as a seductive look on his face. “I suppose I will just have to change your mind.”

  Kelly’s heart pounded. It had been so long since someone had flirted with her. She’d been hit on and catcalled over the years, but an honest-to-God flirt fest?

  Man, it felt good.

  “You can try, but it’s never going to happen.”

  “What’s never going to happen?” Chris asked.

  Kelly jumped to her feet and looked around Hank’s shoulder. Chris stood in the doorway with a stack of papers in his hands, his hair perfectly in place and his suit pressed. The navy blazer drew attention to the swimmer’s shoulders and deep V into his waist, indicating he had his suits tailor-made for his lean muscles. He worked the style so well, he should be modeling suits for Hugo Boss. He looked that good.

  Where the heck did that thought come from? Kelly had always been aware that Chris was attractive, and as his normal attire consisted of formal suits and ties, it should be old hat seeing him like that.

  It was probably just the high of Hank’s interest that made Kelly aware of every man around. That was logical.

  “Chris. I didn’t hear you knock.”

  He cocked his head, watching her as though she’d lost her mind. “That’s because I didn’t. I brought the contracts for the new clients you had coming today. Since I was supposed to be here for this meeting, I figured it was okay to come on in. Sorry I was late, by the way.”

  God, had she sounded testy with him? By the confused look on his face she was guessing she had been. Usually, Chris dropped the contracts off and left, but since he was such a big fan of Hank’s, she had agreed to let him come in and meet him.

  “Yes, of course, I’m sorry. Mr. Townsend just wanted to maintain his privacy, so I had Veronica close the door behind her. Hank Townsend, this is Christian Ryan, the company attorney. Chris already knows you, since he’s a big fan of your movies.”

  Chris held his hand out to Hank. “Mr. Townsend, a pleasure. I apologize for being late.”

  Hank released Chris’s hand and beamed. “Thanks, man. And you haven’t missed much, except me trying to convince Kelly to go to dinner with me.”

  Kelly watched Chris’s eyes widen. “I see.” Chris glanced her way, clearly asking her silently if she needed to be rescued.

  She was a big girl, though and could handle a ladies’ man like Hank Townsend. “I was just explaining to Hank that fraternizing is frowned upon at Something Borrowed.”

  Did Chris appear relieved? His shoulders sagged a little and the tense, awkward look from moments ago had disappeared.

  “And Kelly is a stickler for the rules.” Chris came forward, maneuvering around Hank, and set the thick stack of papers on her desk. “Here are the contracts I was dropping by, as I mentioned.”

  She must have imagined the emotion from him, because he acted completely chill now.

  “Great. Thanks, Chris.”

  He hesitated, and Kelly waited for him to say something else.

  “Was there more?” she asked.

  “No, of course not.” He took a few steps toward the door and turned, as though he’d remembered something. “Actually, I was just going to see if you were free for lunch?”

  Kelly turned the page of her planner to her calendar and clicked her tongue. “I’m not. I can do tomorrow, though.”

  “Sure, that sounds great.” Chris nodded at Hank, his hand on the doorknob. “Nice meeting you, Hank. You’re in good hands.”

  Kelly noticed Hank wink at Chris before he said, “I’m pretty sure you’re right.”

  Chris’s smile seemed strained as he left and closed the door behind him. Kelly stared at the dark wood for a moment, wondering at Chris’s air of irritation. She’d expected him to fawn all over Hank, but he’d appeared annoyed at the attention the actor had directed at her.

  He was probably just looking out for me. Afraid I’d get hurt.

  “So, you said no to dinner…but what about lunch?” Hank asked.

  Kelly’s attention centered back on Hank, and away from worrying about what her friend was thinking. “I just told Chris I was busy.”

  “Yeah, you told Chris, not me.”

  Kelly laughed as she sat back down again. “You’re tenacious.”

  Hank arched a brow at her, his lips turned up in a wicked grin. “That’s not a no.”

  Oh yeah, I could get used to the attentions of this man.

  Chapter 4

  Chris threw all his weight behind the punch, knocking his bag back a good foot. He’d converted one of the three bedrooms in his house into a gym, equipped with a folding treadmill, weights, and a punching bag anchored from the ceiling. It was his sanctuary from the stress that could come with handling other people’s affairs.

  His muscles screamed in protest as he used a combination of jabs, dancing on the balls of his feet across the wood floor. Sweat rolled down his shoulders and back, his hair soaked against his forehead as he brought up his knee, watc
hing his actions in the wall mirror he’d installed. He let out several loud grunts as he jammed his knee into the leather, holding it still as he pummeled it.

  He’d left his office and driven straight home, antsy as hell and needing a good workout. He had no idea what had triggered the overwhelming urge to vent a little violence on his unsuspecting punching bag, but it felt good to let it out.

  The blast of Panic! at the Disco flooded his ears through the bud speakers and he took a break to grab some water. The song was one of Kelly’s favorites. Anytime it came on, she would scream the words at the top of her lungs.

  As the cold water from his bottle traveled down his throat, he remembered the husky giggle he’d heard through the door of Kelly’s office today as he’d left. It had struck him, especially since Kelly wasn’t really a giggler. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed like that.

  It hadn’t taken him long to notice when Hank had flirted with Kelly, she’d blushed a rosy hue. It was the same color that appeared whenever a sex scene on a movie or TV show they were watching got steamy. Her hazel eyes had sparkled and although she’d looked at Chris when she’d spoken to him, her gaze flicked back to Hank.

  She liked the guy, despite her protests about not dating clients. Chris could understand; most women would turn their heads at a famous actor asking them out, especially a handsome one.

  But it had still thrown him that Kelly was susceptible to Hank’s charms.

  Chris poured some water over his already soaked head, a shock of cold causing a shiver when it touched his skin. The water hit the floor with a splat and he pulled a towel from the rack he kept on the far wall. He dropped it on the floor and mopped up the liquid with his foot, still brooding about the events in Kelly’s office.

  Once it was cleaned up, all the energy drained out of him. He needed to go shower and start some dinner.

  It was his birthday, after all.

  He was a little surprised that Kelly hadn’t said anything. She never forgot his birthday, even when he wished she would. At least he wouldn’t be put through any crazy party antics this year. The clown party for his thirtieth two years ago had almost given him a heart attack. Kelly had laughed uproariously at the terrified expression on his face every time one of the painted entertainers she’d hired approached him. It was pure wickedness on her part to tease him that way, but he’d gotten his revenge with the haunted house party he’d thrown a few months later. Half the guests had dressed up like zombies and Kelly had hardly left his side.

  He loathed clowns and zombies freaked her out. What a pair they made.

  Chris’s phone beeped through the music and he pulled it out of his armband. Unlocking the screen, he saw it was a text message from Kelly.

  I don’t wanna cook. Meet me at Shotguns?

  Shotgun Weddings Bar and Grill served the best burgers in Nor Cal, better than whatever crap he probably had in his fridge.

  Hell yeah.

  Sweet. See you in a few. You’re buying.

  You asked me out.

  Don’t be a cheap ass. I’ll get dessert.

  Chris laughed.

  Deal.

  He left his spare room, taking the wraps off his hands as he walked down the hallway. His knuckles ached already, telling him he’d overdone it tonight, but he still felt better than he had an hour and a half ago.

  He reached his bedroom, where he kicked off his shoes and stripped out of his clothes. Chris was a neat guy who didn’t like things out of place. Instead of leaving his laundry on the floor, he picked up the bundle up and tossed it into the wicker basket next to his shiny cherry wood dresser. Chris left the hand wraps on top of the dresser. He’d put those away later, since he wasn’t likely to trip over them in the dark.

  He walked past the king size bed with its gray comforter. The head and foot board perfectly matched his dresser and nightstands. On top of each were matching lamps with gray bases and eggshell shades. The right nightstand held his alarm clock and a picture of his parents on their wedding day. On the left was a photo of Kelly and him at one of the first weddings she organized.

  Next to it was another frame of silver, with Ray in his dress blues and Chris with his arm around his friend’s shoulders. They’d been celebrating Ray’s boot camp graduation and it was no surprise that Kelly had been the one to take that picture of them.

  The slight twinge in his chest hurt, mostly because it reminded him that he wasn’t over losing his friend. Ray had been the brother he’d always wanted, a confidant that had his back and called him on his bullshit. As much as he tried to get out there with his other lawyer friends or guys he’d kept up with from college, they couldn’t replace Ray.

  Chris pulled the buds from his ears, determined not to settle into a downer mood on his birthday. When he set his phone on the counter in the connected bathroom and pulled the headphones from the jack, Green Day blared through the room. He’d bought the three-bedroom, two-bathroom house in Somerset as a foreclosure and had been slowly updating it himself. He’d started in the master bath and bedroom because he knew he’d be spending the most time in there and he loved the way his shower had turned out. It was tall and wide, big enough for four people with dual shower heads and dark gray tile. The toilet had a separate door, and the second sink on the double vanity sparkled compared to the one he used every morning. Cass hadn’t spent the night much and when she did, she’d always used his side.

  He turned the nozzle in the shower for the hot water, adjusting the cold slightly so he didn’t peel his skin off. Finally, he stepped into the waterfall, sighing loudly as the tepid spray rained down on his body. He was too hot for his normal scalding shower, but the steady, massaging stream was still amazing.

  The music on his phone paused and he heard the text notification. A sense of urgency shot through him, and he hoped Kelly hadn’t changed her mind about going out for food. He finished scrubbing the sweat from his body and hair with body wash and shampoo. Once the soap was gone, he stepped out onto the black bath mat and grabbed his towel on the wall. Wrapping his towel around his waist, he went to the counter and unlocked the screen on his phone with his trigger finger.

  By the way. Happy Birthday, SBF.

  Attached was a picture of a clown holding a birthday cake, a wicked grin on its painted face. He grimaced.

  You’re evil.

  I love you.

  I know.

  Chris shook his head with a grin and ran his hand over the steam-covered mirror. He went ahead and left the golden five o’clock shadow that had formed on his cheeks and chin. Kelly wouldn’t care if he shaved or not.

  He finished getting ready and left the house to climb into his slate gray Toyota Tundra. He blasted the radio as he pulled out onto the dirt road that would take him to highway 16. Pine trees lined the two-lane road, and in the distance, he could see the hills beyond growing taller. When he hit the three-way stop, he waved a red sports car on his right through before gunning the engine.

  It took him about ten minutes to get to Shotguns, as it was on the other side of Sweetheart. All the businesses sported clever, wedding-themed names, like Bow Ties Italian Restaurant. It was what the small foothill town was known for. A private place that catered to celebrity weddings. It was where most of the revenue came from that kept the businesses booming. A picturesque oasis; a country setting with California sensibilities.

  Chris pulled into Shotgun’s lot and parked next to Kelly’s truck, a sneaking suspicion crossed his mind. The parking lot was packed except for one spot right up front. Kelly forgetting his birthday?

  He was an idiot.

  He climbed out of the truck and walked up the steps to the dark wood building. The bouncer, Phil, grinned at him with his hand on the doorknob. The dark haired, six-foot-four body builder towered over him like Shrek, but with a better attitude.

  “Any chance there isn’t a surprise
party waiting for me in there, Phil?”

  “Sorry, pal, Kelly told me I’m sworn to secrecy.”

  Chris rolled his eyes. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

  Phil opened the door and Chris walked into the bar, which was pitch black and eerily quiet.

  The lights came on with an explosion of “surprise” and Chris’s heart nearly propelled from his chest. Even though he had been waiting for it, he hadn’t been fully prepared.

  The ceiling of the bar had been run with streamers in primary colors, with white twinkling lights threaded throughout. On the bar sat brightly wrapped boxes and bags, a dozen of them at least. The circular tables that usually lined the edge of the dance floor were covered in blue table cloths and the centerpieces were Photoshopped pictures of Chris riding a unicorn.

  Half the town of Sweetheart was there, smiling and cheering. At the front of the crowd of friends was Kelly, clad in blue jeans and a black sleeveless blouse. Her dark hair was swept up on top of her head and her wide, excited smile was too infectious not to return. She came over to him and gave him a big hug, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  “Did I get you?”

  Chris chuckled good-naturedly. “You got me until I pulled into the parking lot. Although, it was considerate to leave me a spot right up front for my birthday present, it was also highly suspicious.”

  “You’re welcome. I figured I hadn’t done a surprise party yet…had to do something cool for your big three two.”

  “Thirty-two is not a special birthday.”

  She gave him a tight squeeze. “Every Chris birthday is special.”

  Despite the cheesiness of the statement, it still warmed him to his core. Besides his parents, Kelly was the only family he had.

  “Just as long as a clown never jumps out of my cake,” he said.

  “Oh, shoot, I meant to cancel that.”

  Chris growled and picked her up off her feet. “The unicorn-riding pictures were a nice touch. I appreciate the fact that I wasn’t shirtless.”