It Happened One Wedding (16 page)

TRISH NUDGED SIDNEY,
her tone sly. “Your
friend
is coming this way.”

Yes, Sidney was aware of this. Actually, she’d been plenty aware of Vaughn ever since he’d walked into the bar. And she wasn’t the only one: looking rakishly handsome in his suit jacket, pants, and open-necked shirt, he’d caught the eye of many a woman on that terrace—including Amanda, who’d been openly checking him out this whole time.

“Miss Sinclair,” he said as he approached.

Then he surprised her by stepping closer and kissing her on the cheek.

“Uh . . . hi,” she said, not exactly sure when they’d moved into the public kiss-hello phase.

“Hi, yourself,” he said with a charming smile, standing very close to her.

When he didn’t move away, Sidney lowered her voice. “What are you doing?” Her sister and his brother were standing close by. Yet here he was, quite obviously
leaning
in toward her.

He seemed amused by her question. “You’re always asking me that. I’m starting a conversation. Again.” He winked.

Okay . . .
“And how much have
you
had to drink tonight, Agent Roberts?”

He laughed as if this was the funniest thing, and touched her chin. “Always busting my balls, Sinclair.”

Then he looked to his right, watching as some guy in a black shirt passed by them.

He waited until the guy was gone, then stepped back to an acceptable “just friends” distance. “So. Having fun tonight?” he asked both women, seeming normal now.

Sidney exchanged a look with Trish, who shrugged. No clue what any of that was all about. “You remember my friend Trish, from the shower?”

Trish shook Vaughn’s hand. “We met briefly outside, when you and Simon were saying good-bye to your mother.”

“Speaking of Simon, how is he holding up?” Sidney asked Vaughn.

“He’s in that phase where he’s telling everyone how much he loves them. And half the people, he actually knows.”

She laughed. “Simon, a happy drunk? No way.”

“How about Isabelle? Is she having a good time?” Vaughn asked.

“A great time, from what I can tell,” Sidney said.

“She’s been partying it up all night,” Trish said. “Honestly, I had no idea she could hold her liquor so well.” She finished off the last sip of her martini. “Which reminds me—it’s my turn to buy her a shot. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Or so,” she added, giving Sidney a pointed smile.

“Make sure you ask Dwayne to get it for you,” Sidney reminded her. “He’s giving us a discount on all of our drinks.”

“Got it.” Trish headed off to track down the waiter.

Vaughn moved next to Sidney along the railing. Not surprisingly, he raised a brow. “Your sister is doing shots?”

“I tipped the waiter an extra twenty percent to give her nonalcoholic versions of all her drinks.”

“Very sneaky,” he said approvingly. Then his look turned more familiar. “You look incredible tonight.”

She felt herself go warm at the compliment. “Thanks. We had a spa day earlier that included hair and makeup. I’m not sure about the lipstick, though. Too red?”

Belatedly, she realized that this question brought his attention to her mouth.

His eyes lingered as he gazed down at her lips. “I like the red.”

Drawn in by his look, she tried to think of something that could steer them back to normal ground. “I have another Man-Speak question for you.”

He frowned. “I just saw you
yesterday
. You’ve already been on another date?”

“Not another date. Just some guy who e-mailed me through the online dating service I signed up with,” she said. “And don’t act so scandalized. Do I even want to know how many women you’ve been texting and e-mailing as of late?”

He furrowed his brow, as if needing to think about that.

She’d take that as a no, she did
not
want to know. “So here’s my question: what does it mean when a guy says he’s ‘pretty much single’?”

“That’s easy. It means, ‘I have a girlfriend, but I’ve kept my dating profile active anyway, and you’re hot.’”

She shook her head. “I swear, Roberts, the more I learn about your gender, the more I think a sperm donor, a good handyman, and a great vibrator is the better way to go.”

He let out a bark of laughter. “In defense of my gender, we’re not all dogs. As a matter of fact, I happen to be friends and work with a lot of good guys.”

“Ooh. Anyone you can set me up with?”

He gave her a long, dark scowl.

She’d take that as a no.

“I just breeched the sex-buddy etiquette again, didn’t I?” she asked.

“Quite.”

Sidney fought back a laugh, thinking that Special Agent Vaughn Roberts was rather cute when irritated.

Another person joined the group next to them, pushing her closer to Vaughn. Seeing her getting crowded, he took her elbow and slid them farther along the railing, where a concrete pillar blocked them from the rest of the bachelor and bachelorette party.

“So, I’m wondering something,” she said.

“Yes, he’s a player. Next question.”

She poked him in the chest. “That wasn’t the question. What I’m wondering is how you think your mother will react when she finds out that Isabelle is pregnant. Obviously, that’s one of the main reasons they’re going through this whole secret-baby charade.”

“Funny, Simon and I were just talking about this the other day.” He contemplated her question. “Look, my mother is very traditional in her beliefs. But does she truly believe that her two unmarried adult sons have never had sex? I doubt it. Still, as long as she has no specific evidence to the contrary, she’s got plausible deniability.” He shrugged. “Once she finds out that Isabelle is pregnant after the wedding, what’s she going to say? They’ll already be married by then. Plus, she loves Isabelle. Actually, she loves both of you.”

Sidney perked up, hearing that. “Really?”

Vaughn nodded. “Every time I talk to her, she wants to know if I’ve seen you and how you’re doing.”

“That’s so sweet. It’s great how close you are with her—you’re very lucky to have that kind of relationship.”

Vaughn studied her for a moment. “What was your mother like?”

Sidney smiled fondly. “She had a wicked sense of humor. Before she got sick, she and my father used to tease each other all the time. She was a little hot-tempered—I know, the stereotypical redhead—but also very passionate and loving. Isabelle looks just like her. At times, it’s almost uncanny.”

“And what did you inherit from her?”

She’d never been asked that before. “My mother could be quite sarcastic when she wanted to be.”

Vaughn’s hand brushed against her cheek. “I think she’d be proud to see how her legacy has been carried out.”

It was partially a joke, partially a compliment—or at least, she thought it was—and part something sweet that suddenly made Sidney’s chest pull tight. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said huskily.

For a moment, he just looked at her.

“
There
you are!”

The voice—Simon’s—came from their left. Sidney instantly took a step back, just as an inebriated Simon nearly tackled Vaughn.

“I’ve been lookin’ all over for you,” Simon said, red-faced and slurring his words. “I need
to tell you somethin’.” He threw his arm around Vaughn and squeezed. “I love you, man. This has been the best night ever. I got my friends, I’ve got my brother, I got my gir—” He blinked and then grinned as he teetered to the right. “Sidney—hey! How are you?”

Sidney smiled. Yep, definitely a happy drunk. “Probably not quite as good as you, but no complaints.”

Simon pointed his beer bottle at her. “Isabelle told me about the trick you set up with her drinks.
Genius
.” He threw out his arms and narrowly missed shattering the beer bottle against the concrete pillar. “Best future sister-in-law ever, folks. Right here.”

“Aw, thank you.”

Vaughn subtly shifted his brother away from the column and out of harm’s way.

Simon, still on a roll, gestured between them. “And I gotta say somethin’ else. I know, in the beginning, there was some kind of . . . friction between you two.”

Vaughn and Sidney exchanged a look.

Simon shook his head emphatically. “Don’t know why, and it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you put whatever it was aside for Izz and me. And
that
is truly cool.” He looked at Vaughn and tapped his bottle to his chest, spilling beer all over his shirt. “You feeling me, bro?”

“I’m feeling you, man.”

Simon turned next to Sidney, tapping his chest again. “You feeling me, Sid?”

“I’m feeling you.”

“Awesome
.
”
He caught sight of someone across the bar. “Dude! You made it!” With a grin, he walked over and threw his arm around a guy wearing a dark blue shirt.

“He is so going to be hurting tomorrow,” Vaughn said.

“Eh, Isabelle will take care of him. Knowing those two, she’ll probably think he’s just
so adorable
when hungover and hurling in her toilet.”

Vaughn laughed, and then looked at her for a moment.

“What?” Sidney asked.

He cocked his head. “Come with me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“Well, look how fast somebody’s dirty little mind goes into the gutter.” He took her hand. “Come on. There are some people I’d like you to meet.”

Vaughn led her across the terrace toward the main bar, where the two men with whom he’d walked in earlier were having drinks. The taller man with brown hair nudged the blond one with glasses as she and Vaughn approached.

Vaughn stopped in front of them, giving them each a stern look. “Don’t make me regret this.”

The taller man laughed. “Who? Us?”

Vaughn made the introductions. “Sidney Sinclair, this is Cade Morgan and—”

The blond man jumped in. “Seth Huxley, Vaughn’s partner.” He shook her hand.

Cade was quick to follow. “It’s nice to meet you, Sidney. Vaughn has told us”—he paused, glancing over Sidney’s head at Vaughn—“nothing. Nothing at all about you. Who are you, again? Yeah, I don’t think she’s going to buy that one, Roberts.”

“You’ll have to excuse us if we seem a little excited,” Huxley explained to her. “Vaughn doesn’t introduce us to a lot of women.” He thought about that. “Or any, really.”

Vaughn clapped his hands. “Okay . . . clearly, some people have been drinking and getting loopy while I’ve been gone.” He turned to Sidney. “Ignore them. They don’t get out much. Sad, really.” He leaned down, speaking in a low tone only she could hear. “And before you ask, they’re both taken so, no, I can’t set you up with them.”

She snapped her fingers. “Damn.”

“Just so I know: if I buy you a drink, is that likely to increase or decrease the sassiness?”

“Oh, increase, for sure.”

“Good.” His voice was low and flirty in her ear. “I look forward to it.”

Delicious sparks of heat curled low in her stomach.

He flagged down the bartender and ordered them both drinks. While chatting with his friends, she learned that Cade had just gotten engaged. The vibe among them quickly took on a celebratory tone, heightened by the fact that tonight, apparently, was one of the rare nights that Vaughn and Huxley were unarmed, having left their guns at home—per FBI policy—since they’d known they would be drinking. Then Trish joined them, and this seemed to be even more of a cause for celebration, and suddenly they were all toasting to girls’ nights out, and moms’ nights out, and special agents’ nights out, and the drinks really started flowing.

Somewhere along the way, Sidney felt Vaughn’s hand brush against hers, and then he ran his thumb lightly over her fingers and drew teasing circles against her palm. Feeling a little warm, she stepped away from the group and headed off to the restrooms, all private, unisex rooms. She found one that was unoccupied and was just opening the door when she felt Vaughn’s hand grab hers, tugging her the rest of the way inside.

He locked the door and instantly was on her, pinning her against the wall as his mouth hungrily claimed hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he settled against her, the hard ridge of his erection pressing between her legs.

“Are you drunk?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

A little, yes, and so was he. “I feel good.” When his hand found the slit of her dress and slid up her bare thigh, she moaned. “Keep going.”

He slid his hand into her lace underwear and cupped her. “You’re wet, Sidney. What have you been thinking about?”

She curled her hands around the lapels of his jacket and gave him a hot, open-mouth kiss in answer.

When he pulled back, his eyes burned into hers. “I’m taking you home tonight.”

“What about your seven-day rule?”

His answer was low and gritty.

“It’s after midnight. You’re mine now.”

 • • • 

IN SIDNEY’S BEDROOM,
Vaughn watched as she slowly unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. She stood before him in her black lace bra, underwear, and heels. He had no doubt that many men at that bar tonight had fantasized about this very image, and now she was all his.

“Lie down on the bed,” he said. He was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol, and he could tell that she was, too. But her eyes still had that saucy, confident gleam that always seemed to be challenging him.

She lay on top of the bed and crossed one high-heeled leg over the other. She gave him a coy look, as if to say she was waiting.

He took off his jacket, uncuffed the buttons on his sleeves, and walked around to the foot of the bed. He grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her toward him, then leaned down to take her mouth in a slow, deep kiss. When he pulled back, he guided her up to a sitting position and knelt between her legs.

“After I take these off,” he said, hooking his fingers into her lacy underwear and sliding them down, “you’re going to spread your legs. Then you’ll put your hands on your knees and hold yourself open for me.”

“Will I now?” she asked.

“You will if you want what comes next.”

Her eyes flashed, but she did what he asked.