Sweet Talk Me (17 page)

The car felt lonely without her. With a sigh he reached into the back and pulled out his Indiana Jones hat. He already had his uncool sunglasses on, the ones he’d gotten at Bob’s Fireworks Palace on I-95. A bike rickshaw almost hit him when he got out of the car. He could see it now:
Famous Country Singer Killed While Wearing Dorky Disguise
. He pulled his hat brim down, leaned against the meter, and waited. He was in deep kimchee, and he knew it. Of course, he shouldn’t be—he and True didn’t have anything going on—but he was anyway.

And he liked it.

When True returned, she handed him a sheaf of bills.

Plunk
, went the meter when she dropped in the first quarter.
Plunk, plunk, plunk, plunk, plunk
.

She didn’t look at him the entire time. It was too cute for words.

“Hey,” he said, “sorry about the panties and the condom.”

“That’s your business,” she said. “I’ll text you in an hour.”

And walked away, nearly bumping into a sweet old man in a seersucker suit in her haste to be gone.

Harrison couldn’t help smiling after her. Damn that girl for making him happy.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

True was so bummed. Not about Harrison and his lady friend. That was
his
business. If he wanted to go off all cockeyed and date someone as ditzy as Valerie Wren, he could go right ahead and look the fool! True had his number. Sex and PR—good, bad, or indifferent—were probably his top two priorities. Was she ever glad she was through with
him
.

No. She was mad about the caterers. Not one of them gave her the time of day. Less than two weeks? She had to be kidding! They had no interest in speaking to her beyond saying no.

When she met Harrison back at the car, he was carrying six shopping bags from Ben Silver.

“What did you get?” she asked, in a terrible mood.

He threw them in the backseat. “A bunch of clothes and toiletries. Plus Dubose’s groomsmen’s gifts.”

“You did?” Her mood brightened ever so slightly.

He came around and opened her door. “It was my pleasure to help.”

Her mood sank again. What was he doing being so willing to help her marry another man? An ex had a certain amount of pride to maintain, right?

Which was why when she slid past him to get into the car, she didn’t make eye contact. She felt very feminine and sexually needy, although she hoped he didn’t guess the latter part. “I wish you’d have called me to let me know. I would have told you if the gifts are appropriate or not.”

“They are,” he said, and shut her door.

It irked her that he didn’t notice her bad mood. It bothered her that he was so confident and incredibly good-looking even in that ridiculous hat and pair of weird-for-a-guy sunglasses. It riled her just as much that she hadn’t been able to find a single thing at Bits of Lace. She’d walked in and seen a million pieces of slippery satin and delicate cotton lingerie, but when it came time to try them on, she just wasn’t in the mood. She’d have to come back before the wedding or find something closer by.

“So what did you pick out for the guys?” she asked as he slid out into traffic.

“Bow ties.” He tossed his hat in the seat behind him, yanked off his ugly sunglasses, and put on his cool shades. “With little frogs.”

She sat in shocked silence. “Frogs?”

He nodded. “They’re killer.”

A beat of silence went by.

“But I picked up something else, too, just in case Dubose doesn’t like ’em,” he added as he maneuvered the car around a horse-and-carriage.

“What else?”

He sat up straighter. “Cuff links. Sterling silver.”

True was relieved. “That sounds good.”

“With little pigs on them.”

Oh, Lord. “Really?”

He nodded. “They rock.”

She looked out the window. It was hard to hold on to a bad mood around him. “We’ll pay you back. But did you save the receipts? In case Dubose wants something else?”

Harrison looked shocked. “Why would he?”

She tried not to laugh. “Well, not everyone likes frogs and pigs.”

“Guys do,” Harrison said. “And I mean all guys, just in case Dubose has a groomsman who’s gay. I’ve never met a man who doesn’t like frogs and pigs.”

“Okaaay … thanks for doing that.”

“It was fun,” he said.

“Did anyone recognize you?”

He nodded. “One of the clerks figured it out as soon as I walked in. I thought my disguise was pretty good, but he’s a die-hard fan. He said my chin gave me away. Go figure.”

She understood. He had a sexy chin. “Did he give you any trouble?”

“No, they were great about it. One of them had a MoonPie and asked me to sign the wrapper with a Sharpie. It was the least I could do, considering they tried to comp me the bow ties and the cuff links. And they were ’spensive, too.”

True’s mouth dropped open. “How expensive?”

“Five groomsmen, right? So the bow ties added up to eight hundred dollars. The cufflinks were three thousand.”

“Oh, my God.” True was mortified. “You shouldn’t use your celebrity status to get free stuff. Don’t you get enough freebies when you go to the Grammys and CMAs?”

“Sure.” Harrison put on his blinker.

“I mean, I appreciate your doing that for Dubose, but no, we can’t take free things—”

“I didn’t,” Harrison said. “I put ’em on my card.”

“Oh, thank God.” True exhaled in relief. “But … I can’t believe Dubose would want to pay that much for groomsmen gifts. Although he did buy himself a five-thousand-dollar tux for the wedding.”

“He did?”

“Yes. But still. We need to go back. I’m going to return all that stuff and start over.”

“I got them to write me a phony receipt for half that price for Dubose. Just in case he objected.”

“But that means you’re paying the other half!”

“As if my bank account would even notice…”

“It’s not right.”

Harrison sighed. “If we go back, then the owner will be miffed. He’s a big guy. Dapper as hell, but if he took off the blazer, he could be a bouncer at any hole-in-the-wall he wanted to patronize. Do you really want to mess with a man in a bow tie who could kick Arnold’s ass?”

“Why would he be so upset?”

“They had a Miracle League fund-raising poster in the window. I wrote them a check for that first. And then when I went to buy my clothes and stuff, he tried to comp me the groomsmen’s gifts as a thank-you. His son plays in the Miracle League. It took me a long time to convince him I couldn’t accept those items comped and for him to take my card instead. By the end of it, we were bros. I can’t diss my new bro. Besides, he won’t want back those frogs and pigs. They’d been sitting around awhile—”

“I told you no one wanted frogs and pigs!”

“Let me finish.” He eyed her askance. “They’d been sitting around awhile because some fella by the name of the duke of Argyll ordered them for his hunting buddies at his castle in Scotland.”

“No way.”

“Way. The duke wound up ordering too many, so the store had some left over. No one bought them because the owner was saving them for—get this—Channing Tatum and his posse. They’re coming through to play golf at the Ocean Course on Kiawah Island next week. But I rate higher, being a local boy, so I got ’em.”

“Wow.” And she meant it. “How much was that check you wrote to the Miracle League?”

He gave her a sideways glance. “You don’t want to know. High enough to keep you in silk lingerie from Bits of Lace for ten lifetimes.”

“Oh.” She was still a little in shock.

“And I don’t want you to tell Dubose how much those groomsmen’s gifts really cost,” he said. “I didn’t do it for him.” He looked at her. “I did it for you.”

True’s heart beat hard with totally inappropriate feelings. And the rest of her body wasn’t far behind. But luckily, her cell phone rang. It was the Realtor, confirming their appointment. They were going to see three beach houses and decide which one they’d choose for Dubose’s fraternity friends.

“I’ll meet you there, but I can’t stay long,” the Realtor said, “so if you don’t mind, I’ll give you the keys to the second and third houses while we’re in the first. They’re friends of mine and are okay with that. You can just drop them off at the office when you leave.”

“Great,” said True. It was getting to be lunchtime, and she was hungry. She put her phone away and looked at Harrison, driving as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Are you hungry?”

“Always.”

The way he said it left her short of breath. But that was her fault, not his. He couldn’t help being hot, and it was up to her not to notice that he was.

“Then let’s get the first house out of the way and then walk up the beach to the Windjammer,” she said. “It’s only a few blocks—if you can get away with it.”

“Have hat, will travel,” he murmured. “Just wish I’d remembered my Speedo.” He looked at her with a naughty-boy smirk.

Merciful heaven, it just wasn’t fair how many man genes he was given when God passed them out.

“You mean a ding-a-ling sling?” She folded her arms over her chest, shocked at her daring. He wasn’t the only one who could dish it out.

He let out a whoop of laughter.

She looked out her side window. How dare she have so much illicit fun without Dubose? Suddenly she felt stuck up in the worst way. “I’m ready to get out of this car.”

“Hey, you can’t turn all schoolteacher on me now.”

“I most certainly can.” She pressed her lips together and felt quivery inside. Upset. Stupid. Like she wanted to cry. “The house is up ahead on the left. It’s got a sailboat mailbox.”

Focus on Dubose. Focus on the wedding.

Harrison got very quiet as they glided down the street. And when he pulled over onto the sandy berm behind another car that read
ISLAND REALTY
on the back window, he said, “I’m sorry. I never should’ve mentioned the Speedo.”

True lifted one shoulder and let it drop. She still wouldn’t look at him. “I shouldn’t have said what I said, either.”

The car’s engine ticked in the silence, and a big garbage truck went roaring by. “We’re old friends,” he said gently. “So you don’t need to be shaken up by a little friendly banter. You’re not being disloyal to Dubose.”

She inhaled a deep breath and finally turned to face him. “Well, I feel that way. Here I am with another man, and we’re talking about … pickle pinchers.”

She couldn’t help herself.

Harrison’s brows flew up. “What?”

“That’s another name for a Speedo.” What was wrong with her? But she had to laugh. It was funny.

He laughed, too. And when they were both recovered, his face got serious and he pulled a piece of hair off her cheek. “You got nothing to worry about. We go way back, and this is how friends talk—silly, fun—especially right before a wedding. An important event like that causes a lot of nerves to flare, and it’s good to laugh. It’s better than having a panic attack, isn’t it?”

She nodded, and he rubbed a thumb across her cheek.

“Thanks for understanding,” she whispered.

“I get you, True Maybank.”

He really did. She couldn’t tear her eyes off his. But was this how one felt toward an old friend? Really?

Luckily, she didn’t have to answer that question because he dropped his hand and unbuckled his seat belt. “Looks like a great place to stay for a wedding.” Yeah. There he went helping her with her wedding again. He was definitely in the old-friend category. “So how many guys are staying here?”

“Five.” She told herself she was relieved to be on solid ground again. “Three are bringing their wives. Two are single.”

“All righty then. Let’s check it out.” His thigh muscle strained against his jeans as he levered himself out of the car.

Great golly, he was a wicked temptation. Was he supposed to be some cosmic test? She waited as he came around to open her door, as if they’d been in the habit for years.

Just what are you doing, True Maybank?
It was as if she were upside down in a swimming pool. She needed her bearings.
You’d better follow the bubbles
, she told herself when he yanked her up by the hand.

They’d lead straight to Dubose.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

As True walked side by side with Harrison up the impressive front steps of the house, she wondered how Dubose was doing at that moment and tried to stay focused on how happy he’d be when she got his friends a good place to stay.

At the door the agent didn’t recognize Harrison and treated him with semi-cool professionalism. “And you’re…?”

“A wayward cousin,” Harrison said. “But I vow not to disrupt the wedding.
This
time.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

True smiled. He really was a troublemaker. “Let’s take a look, shall we?”

“Of course.” The agent’s back was straight and her expression dignified as she showed them about the house. Not once did she look back at Harrison, and she directed all her comments to True.

True decided that she needed to treat Harrison the same way, politely yet with indifference. Yes, they were old friends. But they’d been lovers, too, however briefly. As much as she wanted to forget that night, for her sake and Dubose’s, she shouldn’t. She needed to be wary. And if she were feeling vulnerable before the wedding, she’d talk to Carmela. Or Weezie. Or she’d go to her attic studio.

That was what she really needed to do. If she stayed away too long from her studio, she got antsy. Emotional. A little restless.

How she felt
now
.

The house was stunning. A vacationer’s paradise. And when she found out it was the cheapest of the three, she said, “We don’t even need to bother with the others. This one will do well.”

“I still think you should see at least the one that’s a block over,” the agent suggested. “It’s only three hundred more for the week—split among five parties, that’s not much more. And it’s truly spectacular.” She held the keys out to True. “Your guests will be impressed by this one but blown away by the other. I promise.”

True hesitated. Impressed was good enough for her. But for Dubose’s sake, she took the keys. “All right.”