The Officer and the Secret (12 page)

She giggled, and he knew he had her then.

“But when one sure is purdy, I just seem to lose myself and I say the darndest things.”

“Okay, okay.” She waved a hand at him in surrender. “Stop. I get it.”

He grabbed the hand before she could pull it back and pressed a lingering kiss to the inside of her wrist, over her pulse. “Do you? Get it, I mean.”

Her breath was shaky when she took her hand back. “I thought so. Now I’m not sure.”

Sneakiness be damned. He had to go with his gut on this one. “I like you, Veronica. A lot. I’m sorry I made a mess of it earlier, but I was just nervous and being stupid. I thought things weren’t the right timing, and I let that do the thinking for me.”

She was quiet. So quiet he wondered after a minute if she’d gone back to the silent treatment. When she finally spoke, her soft voice had him breathing a sigh of relief.

“I accept your apology.”

Such a formal little phrase. He smiled and held out a hand. When she placed hers in his, his heart did a little dance.

***

“So Dwayne’s picking you up, huh?” Madison gave her a sly wink as she grabbed her purse and heels. Like Veronica, she was wearing flats until they reached the ceremony site, where they would change into their official bridesmaids heels.

“Yes, as I said four other times. He’s giving me a ride.” She fiddled with the hem of her matching shawl, not wanting to look her friend in the eye. She’d guess far too quickly that Madison wasn’t as cool about the simple ride as she tried to seem.

“I, for one, am glad I’m driving myself. I hate depending on rides with someone else. But remember I’ve got my car, okay? If you wanna leave for whatever reason, come find me.”

“Thanks.” She sat back on the couch and forced herself not to check the clock for the ninth time in two minutes. He wasn’t late. He wasn’t even remotely late. She was disgustingly early. Eagerness, much?

As Madison picked up her keys, she stopped and looked back. “Uh, I thought I should mention that I sort of hinted to Dwayne that you and David were still an item.”

“Madison!” She sat up and stared. “Why would you do that? And what do you mean,
still
? We were never an item to begin with!” She’d told Madison about her decision to break things off with David the same night of their disastrous last date. She knew better.

“Come on. It totally forced him to make the move. You can’t be mad at me for that. Males are notoriously slow at everything they’re in charge of, including letting girls know whether they’re interested or not. It’s some deficiency with the Y chromosome. You learn about it in nursing school. Anyway, the fact is, it worked, right?”

She sat back and crossed her arms. “I’m not exactly thrilled that it took a threat to get him to ask to be my date.” Was that the only reason? Some ingrained, natural male instinct that wanted what they couldn’t have? She didn’t want that. Nothing about that said
here’s a spark!
or
this
could
be
love.
It was more akin to a wild dog who didn’t want a bone until another dog came along and sniffed at it.

Madison didn’t seem at all concerned at her deception. “Meh. I don’t think that’s why. He stared at you through most of rehearsals last night anyway. I think he was holding back ’cause he thought you were happy with David. A little hint, a friendly nudge, and here you two are. Cutie-pie dates for the wedding. Are you really upset about that?”

Veronica, soothed by the thought he’d stared at her, could only laugh. “No. Fine. Shoo, go away. I can handle myself just fine, thank you very much.”

Madison paused, hand on the doorknob. “You know, I thought David would be a good choice for you.”

“So did Skye. So did I,” Veronica reminded her wryly. How wrong they’d all been.

“Yeah. See, the thing is, I think that David probably is a good guy overall. But the reasons for wanting him were wrong. I think what you want in a guy wasn’t exactly what we were looking for.” She headed out the door, shutting it quietly behind her.

Veronica thought back to what the three had discussed when brainstorming men. How many of those ideas had actually been hers, anyway? Had she really let Skye and Madison—however well-intended—steamroll her into who she should be dating?

Oh boy. She had.

A knock on the door jolted her. She stood, straightened her dress, grabbed her purse and shoes. And realized this was definitely a big moment.

From the time she was born until the moment she stepped into the United States as a grown woman, her parents dictated every single decision for her, sheltering her, keeping her from learning about life, from living. And she let it happen again with well-meaning friends.

No more. She was going to go with the moment, let her heart and her instincts dictate what she should do next. And stop shying away from taking chances.

They couldn’t all be bad, right?

At some point, Dwayne was sure there was a wedding. Or, rather, a recommitment. But he was too busy watching Veronica watch the ceremony. Every expression crossed her face, from joy to soft envy and back to pure contentment. He could read her like a book, no hiding it.

Imagine that. A woman who didn’t try to hide things. Novel. Now if only he knew what was hiding under that bridesmaid’s dress…

“Move,” Jeremy hissed behind him.

What? Oh, shit. Madison stared at him, arm out, ready for him to escort her back down the aisle. He missed the entire thing while mentally undressing Veronica. Luckily they weren’t in a church, or he’d be toast from a lightning bolt.

He walked with Madison, glowing with happiness, down the aisle and led her to the little area where the bridal party would congregate, ready to enter the reception room next door. The girls all huddled together in a little hidden alcove, gushing and doing their little happy dances over Skye in her dress. That it was white was a surprise in itself. Dwayne was sure she’d buck tradition and wear something more multicolored than Joseph’s dreamcoat. But the little dress, while a little more daring in cut, was definitely appropriate enough to have Tim’s parents beaming with joy while still not looking like a cookie-cutter bride.

Veronica caught his eye and gave him a shy smile. And he went with instinct to walk over toward her, ignoring the guys behind him attempting to herd guests to their assigned tables in the hall. That was likely where he should be too, but he couldn’t resist the pull of her eyes, her body language. Neither of the other women seemed to notice when he reached out a hand and pulled Veronica away, down the hall of the conference center and into a small, unused room. A boardroom table with a dozen chairs dominated the center of the room, a whiteboard took up all of one wall, and that was all.

She still hadn’t said a word. But she watched him with careful eyes, meandering through the room, tracing the tops of each chair with her fingertips as she put the table between them.

What would those fingers feel like running down his body? Would they make him shiver, or heat him up?

“Do we need to have a meeting?”

He watched her, knew automatically she was forcing the confidence. This thing, this spark between them, got to her almost as much as it did him. She was on the same level of confusion as he was. Thank God.

“Meetings come in all shapes and sizes.” Judging her reaction, he started to walk around the table. She didn’t move, let him draw closer. No fear, no panic. Just a sense of curiosity, as if she was watching a lesson in progress. Only the underlying heat, the small tremble of her hand as her fingers outlined the top of one chair, told him she was interested.

“And what are you hoping to accomplish with this meeting?”

“Test the waters.” When he came up to her, she turned, bottom pressed against the table, between two chairs. He watched as she unconsciously placed one hand on the table, then bent back a little to look up at him.

Perfect.

He dipped his head and gave her a soft kiss that she returned easily. Then he increased the pressure of his lips, partly for pleasure, partly as a warning.

This
is
going
to
get
hotter. Now’s your chance to say no.

But she only kissed back, angling her head, and taking it a step farther by tracing the seam of his lips with the tip of her tongue in a sweet request.

Without breaking the connection, he lifted her up. She stiffened a moment at the surprise, but relaxed instantly when he placed her butt on the table. And when he finally let loose, cupping her face with his hands and putting his everything into the kiss, she moaned like a starving woman eating her first meal in weeks.

God, she was good for a man’s ego. Every little movement, every action was given an instant response, verbal or silent, and he never questioned whether she was enjoying herself. And when he gently, tentatively slid his hands down her neck, over her shoulders, and grazed the sides of her breasts, she didn’t even budge. He tried his luck and slid his hands down to her hips to squeeze. She only squirmed, but in the good way. Not the “Hands off, cretin” sort of way. So he took one more chance and lifted her enough to scoot her dress out from under her ass.

Veronica gasped, the sound wet and unbelievably sexy into his mouth. Well, the table was probably cold on her skin. He’d warm her up fast enough. Hands creeping over the tops of her thighs, he was about to inch them apart when—

Thump.

Veronica seemed completely unaware of the muffled sound, if her little mewling sounds of desperation were any hint. And hell, if she didn’t give a rip, then why should he? He wasn’t about to give up a perfectly good—

Knock
knock
.

Fuck. He stepped back, hands quickly shifting to her shoulders so she didn’t lose balance and face-plant off the table. Now there would be a delightful way to woo a woman. In a voice that sounded too gruff to be his own, he barked, “Occupied.”

Some giggling, a male grunt of annoyance, and then nothing.

He looked back down at Veronica, whose hand was now covering her mouth, eyes wide with shock. “Hey, are you—”

“Oh my…” She tilted her face to look at him, eyes glassy. Was it really that upsetting to almost be walked in on?

“It’s fine. The door’s locked.” He helped her off the table, knowing the moment was officially over, whether he liked it or not. Almost in a daze, she straightened her dress and brushed invisible wrinkles from the front of her skirt.

“We almost… I mean, I almost let you…”

Okay, not everyone was in for the thrill of a semi-public tryst. But she really seemed to be startled that they’d gone so far. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

That seemed to snap her out of whatever funk she’d dug herself into. “No, please. Don’t apologize. That was wonderful. Just a little shocking, actually.” Her lips twitched, then she seemed to give up the fight completely and a full-on grin broke out. “Thrilling is a better word, I think.”

Thrilling. Not the adjective he’d use to describe it, but it sounded positive enough so he’d take it. When she looked down again once more to assure herself she was decent, he took the opportunity to face away and straighten his pants and shake a leg. A much-needed feel of relief washed through him, and he could breathe again. Jesus. He wasn’t into being watched any more than the next guy. The knock should have sunk his battleship faster than a torpedo. Not with Veronica. If she asked for it, he could have his battleship docking her harbor in moments.

Glancing up, he laughed to himself when he saw her standing by the door, hands primly laced in front of her. Looking like a damn schoolteacher waiting for her pupils to show up for the day.

Yup. She wasn’t going to ask him for a boardroom quickie any more than he was going to give her one. Miss Veronica Gibson required more than that. And so did he, he realized as he walked to the door and opened it for her. He needed more than one quick table-shaking hour to see where things were headed. If she was as special as he thought she might be, as important as she might be, then it just wasn’t the right way to start things out.

She paused before they hit the ballroom entrance and bit her lip, eyes shifting between him and the door. “Do you think they missed us?”

Was that code for
Does
anyone
know
what
we
were
up
to?
Probably. “I doubt it. But we can just slip in through the side. Little more inconspicuous.”

Ten pounds of worry slid off her shoulders and her smile was back. “Good. That’s good. I don’t want to mess anything up for Skye’s beautiful day.”

Her consideration and care for her friends was just another feather in her cap, as far as he was concerned. Walking them around to the side, where servers had been slipping in and out discretely with plates of food, they quickly melted into the crowd surrounding the dance floor with ease. But it soon became apparent, while their entrance was discrete, their absence had not been.

***

Madison fought back tears, watching her brother twirl his wife around the floor for their first dance. They’d been married almost a year now, but since she’d missed the wedding, this felt like the first time. And her happiness for her brother was trumped only by the smugness that she was right from the start. He needed a wife just like Skye to shake up his world and keep him on his toes. Thank God he found her.

“They look good together.”

Jeremy’s deep voice rumbled behind her. The heat from his body seeped in through the thin material of her dress, to her bare shoulders. “I thought you didn’t like Skye.”

He chuckled softly. “You have to admit, they didn’t start off like normal couples.”

“No, that’s true, they didn’t.”

“I was reserving judgment on her until later. But she makes him happy, and she’s a good person. Doesn’t get much better than that.”

“No,” she said softly, “it doesn’t.”

The DJ’s mic boomed. “And now, the bride and groom would like to welcome their wedding party out onto the dance floor.”

“Come on.” Jeremy tugged at her hand, surprising Madison.

“You’re an eager beaver.” As he swept her easily into a slow step, she smiled. “Never would have taken you for much of a dancer.”

“Dad had me take lessons. Something about how all officers should know how to do basic dance steps should they be required to.” He snorted. “Like all company grade officers need to know how to bust out a tango at the drop of a hat.”

Madison raised a brow. “Could you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He leaned down for a quick kiss, one that had her biting back a groan of frustration. How long did they have to stay before they could slip away?

Slip away… Madison glanced around. “Shouldn’t you be dancing with Veronica? You escorted her down the aisle, and I walked with Dwayne.”

Jeremy shrugged. “I didn’t figure it mattered, long as we were all out here.”

“Yeah, but…” She pushed until he spun her in a three-sixty spin. “They’re not out here.”

Jeremy did the owl-pivot on his shoulders. “Huh, you’re right. Wonder where they went.”

Madison started to smile, laughing a little as her grin spread. “Gotcha.” As she spotted both Veronica and Dwayne slip slyly into the back of the crowd from the server entry, she crooked a finger at them. “Get out here.”

Veronica hesitated, but Dwayne grinned his idiotic grin and tugged her behind him. Veronica was too sweet to say a word otherwise, though the mutinous look she shot D proved how much she disliked being dragged without a word.

“Hmm. Wonder where those two have been,” she thought out loud.

“I know where I wish I was. A dark room alone, with me
not
in this tuxedo and you still in that dress. I want to watch you peel out of it, one inch at a time. Exactly how fast do you think I can get you out of it?” Jeremy’s hand smoothed up and down her back, as if searching for the hidden zipper.

She punched him on the shoulder once, then remembered they were the center of attention when a table nearby laughed.

“She’s a cold one.”

“Really?” Madison glanced up in surprise. “You think so? I thought she was extremely warm. Just struggles with how to show it sometimes. But she’s getting there.”

Veronica laughed then, dipped back by Dwayne, suspended while he held her nearly upside down. Dwayne’s smile wasn’t full of humor anymore, but pleasure and something more. Something that had Madison’s throat closing with the happiness of it.

That bitch Blair had stolen something from him. He used his sweet Southern personality as a shield, though it was a true part of him as much as anything else. It was cute and quirky and drew the women in like bees to a fragrant flower. But then the flower would close, keeping the bees at a distance.

“And now, we open the dance floor to all those wanting to celebrate Timothy and Skye’s love,” the DJ announced smoothly, and they shifted slightly to make room for new couples joining them on the dance floor.

But Madison kept Dwayne and Veronica in her eyesight. D was opening up again, and Veronica was the reason why. Or maybe it was just time that healed the wound, and Veronica was in the right place at the right time. Either way, they were good together, and she was happy to see her friend—both her friends now—enjoying each other and making each other happy.

“Wow.”

“I know. I’ve got smooth moves.” Jeremy led her into a quick twirl ending in a dip of their own, which he capped with a quick kiss on the nose. “Try not to swoon.”

“Oh yeah, Casanova. You’ve got me.” She rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. “I meant watching Dwayne and Veronica.”

Jeremy glanced around, but by now the sea of people had swallowed them up. “Gonna elaborate on what ‘wow’ meant?”

“Just that I’m happy, watching them move together, toward each other, and enjoying each other. It’s like this sweet, slow slide from friends into something more. And I wondered if this was how other people felt watching us.”

“Probably not, since we didn’t do the slow slide so much as the quick bang.” He wiggled his eyebrows to indicate he knew damn well the double entendre he’d just used.

“Sicko.”

“Yes, but I’m your sicko.”

Madison sighed and rested her cheek on his lapel. “Exactly.”

***

Veronica waited to hear the door close and the light by the hallway to illuminate the room before sitting up on the couch. “Want some—”

“Ahh!” Madison screamed, jumped back, and held a hand over her chest. “Christ on a crutch, Veronica.”

Veronica mentally winced at the phrase, almost as a reflex. Then reminded herself no bolt of lightning was going to fly down and strike them. “Sorry.” She held up the carton in a peace offering. “Ice cream?”

Madison glanced down the hallway toward her bedroom once, longingly, before dropping her bag on the floor and shuffling to the couch. “Why the hell not?” She snatched the carton and spoon from Veronica’s hand and dug in.