Page 30 of Man Cuffed
“Is that a euphemism for something?”
“No!”
Rosie is studying me. She could’ve been a cop too if she wanted, but instead she became a middle-school teacher. Come to think of it, the two jobs have a lot in common.
“I’m also bringing her to the wedding,” I offer, thinking this might shut her up.
“Reallllly?” Rosie gives me an evil smile. “Because you’re interested in her? Or because you are trying to shut down any family pity.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. She’s my neighbor, and a friend, and I’m bringing her to the wedding, and she’s going to play like she’s madly in love with me so Mom and Dad will get off my back about having a girlfriend, and maybe Morris and Julie will realize I’m totally fine and over the whole ordeal. I’m better than fine. I’m with Meg who is gorgeous and smart and funny and…” It occurs to me I’m rambling.
So I stop.
And I just wait.
Rosie busts out a big old grin. “My wedding is going to be awesome! Can I say I introduced you two?”
“No,” I say. “That would be a lie.”
“You hypocrite! I want to be in on it. I already like her. She can be a bridesmaid if you want. You can have her on your arm. Make everyone swoon. She’ll make you look even more studly than you usually do.”
Whoa. “No! Don’t put either of us in the ceremony. Just let me handle this. I don’t want toactivelylie. I’ll tell everyone the truth on how we really met.”
“And how was that?”
Now I’m really committed to this charade. “I was on shift, working a gas leak. She was waitressing for a bachelorette party. She, uh, thought I was the talent. So she tried to tear my clothes off. Literally.”
And damn if I wasn’t tempted to let her.
Rosie howls. Full out. From the belly. “I can’t wait! And I’m so glad you’re coming to the wedding. I know you don’t want to, but it means the world to me.”
She jumps up and gives me a quick hug. I lift her off the ground for a second because that’s what we do.
Then she slugs me in the arm. Hard. “But maybe you should loan her somesugar,” she says. “And thatisa euphemism.”
“Not gonna happen,” I say immediately. “We’re not like that.”
“Then why are you staring at her right now?”
“I’m not.” But I am, of course. And I’m so busted, because Meg picks that exact moment to catch my gaze, too. She takes a piece of lemon cake, pops it into her mouth, and then closes her eyes with delight. Then she licks her goddamn lips.
“Are you really trying to tell me that you two aren’t a couple?” My sister sounds incredulous. “There’s more spark between the two of you than a match and some kindling. All you need to get lit is a little rubbing.”
“We’re not a couple,” I grumble. “We don’t need to belit.In the first place, I don’t do relationships. And she’s my neighbor.”
“So?” My sister’s eyes twinkle. “That sounds very convenient.”
“Sure,” I grunt. “Until I’ve had my fill. And then it’s just awkward.”
Rosie groans. “You are the most cynical man ever born.”
I give her a smile, even though she’s got it wrong. Cynical men are made, not born.
8All those Training Bras
Meg
I don’t know how I ended up at this bridal shower, eating a piece of Maguire’s excellent lemon cake, surrounded by smiling women who are hanging on my every word, but it’s not a bad place to be. In the first place, Maguire’s sister is all kinds of adorable. She’s the bubbly kind of unicorn person. I’m usually more drawn to dark and twisted individuals, but she sort of makes it impossible not to like her.
