The Stand-In Page 10

  He rolled his eyes. “Wally’s. Did you see what he wanted me to wear? Rags.” He stood up straight. “No, ma’am. I found another costume shop and better duds. What do you think?”

  What did she think? She took in each small detail. He wore his own pair of kickass boots, ones worthy of Captain Morgan. Tight breeches. A white shirt that laced up in front, the kind she could imagine unlacing at a torturous pace. He’d added a blue jacket with shiny gold buttons and had even purchased a wig that made him look as if he had his hair clubbed back. He’d let his stubble grow longer, giving him the rakish appeal of a romance cover model. Oh, and his sword. So long and proud…

  “I think,” she squeaked out, “you’ll do.”

  “Very well, wench,” he said, eyeing her substantial bosom. He held out his arm. “Let’s do this before I change my mind.”

  Winn swallowed as she grabbed her bag and took his arm. Unfortunately, no amount of saliva could assuage her sudden thirst.

  * * * *

  Patrick took a back seat at the Coral Reef Seafood Restaurant during the actual ceremony, mostly so he could watch Winn and her sexy pirate persona undisturbed. Josh and Sunshine had decided to forego a church wedding, according to Winn. The couple had met years ago at a movie screening for Pirates of the Caribbean, and had always dreamed of buccaneer-themed nuptials. Because the Coral Reef looked like the set of a pirate movie, they’d rented it for the ceremony and the reception.

  Right before the vows, his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Not wanting to disturb the proceedings, he slipped into the restaurant foyer and answered the call.

  Jake greeted him. “How’s the story coming along?”

  “Um, good. I’m just in the middle of a wedding, though.”

  His old friend ignored the hint. “Any dirt yet?”

  Dirt. Kind of like a professional bridesmaid who hated weddings and suffered from panic attacks because she was left at the altar by Shithead Mike? That kind of dirt? “I’m still digging.”

  “Okay. Listen, I’d like to meet with you and go over what you have. Can you come see me tomorrow?”

  “You wanna help me cross my t’s and dot my i’s too, Jake? I have done this before.”

  “Don’t get pissy with me, friend. You’ve written a lot of political articles. I just want to make sure your tone is right for our readers.”

  “The tone will be fine. I promise not to use too many big words.”

  “Come see me anyway. Have fun, Paddy.” Click.

  And just like that, Patrick was reminded why he was there. In truth, he’d sort of enjoyed forgetting. Funny how he forgot so much when he was around Winn, like past betrayals and injuries. Funny how he was reminded of other things, like how he was a horny man and she was a gorgeous woman.

  Frowning, he turned off his phone and headed back into the restaurant.

  Only to see Winn bent over at the waist, green-faced, and breathing hard.

  He dashed toward the front and moved to her side. “Winn?”

  She looked up from under her lashes and made a face.

  The bride, Sunshine, clad in white boots and a white hat, spoke up. “Is she okay? We started our vows and she keeled over.”

  The vows, the speeches. The lies. It gives me hives. It makes me sick.

  Another panic attack. He ran a hand over her spine. “Oh, Winn.”

  The groom, dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow, said, “Maybe you should take her in the back room and give her a minute to recuperate. And so we can finish our vows. Savvy?”

  “Aye, aye,” said Patrick. “I mean, right.”

  Before Winn could open her mouth to argue, he picked her up and carried her through the kitchen, into one of the supply rooms. He set her down, searched quickly for a chair and a glass of water, and joined her. He made her sit and made her drink. With her knees knocked together, holding the glass of water, she suddenly looked small and young. It made him want to protect her, make her feel better.

  She stared at her lap and whispered, “I’m going to lose my job. The first good job I’ve had in years, and I’m going to lose it.”

  “You won’t lose your job. They didn’t seem upset, just worried. No one would blame you for feeling unwell.”

  “My sister does. She blames me for never telling Mike how I felt.”

  The impact of her statement hit him. “Wait a minute. You never confronted Shithead Mike?”

  She shook her head.

  “Jesus, Winn, it’s a miracle you’re only having panic attacks. It’s a wonder you’re not bleeding internally for keeping that crap bottled up. Why haven’t you spoken with him?”

  “I guess I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he destroyed me.”

  Patrick blinked and his heart sank into his pirate boots. Why did hearing those words hurt so much? “Okay, listen to me, Busby. You have not been destroyed. You had a…minor setback. If you ask me, you dodged a bullet anyway. Don’t waste your time pining over a man who is callous enough to leave a woman at the altar. He’s a fucking prick.”

  His words must have come out rather strong because she looked at him in surprise.

  “What? It’s true. A. Fucking. Prick.”

  She offered him a small smile. “I’m not pining for Mike. I know he’s an asshole. Honestly, I think I’m pining for the part of myself I lost that day. My sense of hope and optimism and romance. I’d always believed in happy endings. Now I’m not so sure they exist outside of Broadway musicals.” Her eyes widened as she gazed at him, clearly needing someone to give her some of that hope back. “Do you believe in ‘happily ever after’?”

  Did he?

  He did in high school when he’d lost his virginity to Keira, his buddy’s older sister. Clad in striped knee socks and braces, she’d made him feel anything was possible. He did when he began working as a hotshot reporter, when he learned people would forgive your other shortcomings if you were charming enough. And he’d even believed in ‘happily ever after’ when he’d thought he could help Gloria Dietrich patch up her marriage to her callous husband.

  But after she dropped him in it, he’d stopped worrying about happy endings. It seemed life didn’t guarantee them anyway. And besides, being a guy, a happy ending usually meant he was getting laid. Shallow, but true. How could he possibly give Winn the reassurance she required?

  “I don’t know, Winn. Maybe it’s more realistic to believe in ‘happy right now.’”

  She stared at him for what seemed like a long time, her eyes creased with obvious disappointment. “You’re right.” Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths and then grinned at him. “I need to get back to the wedding. Thanks.”

  No. He didn’t like how their conversation was ending. It made his stomach churn and now he felt green. “Winn, wait.”

  Too late. She’d escaped the supply room. He sat, feeling chained to his seat, as he watched her wiggle out of the room.

  He waited there for a few minutes, staring at bulk bottles of pepper and dehydrated minced onion. All of a sudden, he had no desire to witness the vows.

  * * * *

  “More grog!”

  Patrick moved out of the way as a drunk uncle, dressed as a one-eyed scoundrel, pushed past him on his way to the bar. Always a drunk uncle at these things. Uncanny.

  He circled the restaurant, shaking his head at the old-fashioned lanterns and ropes decorating the tables. Boy, Josh and Sunshine really loved pirates. The groom had kept up a facsimile of Johnny Depp’s movie accent the entire ceremony and reception. However, now that he’d had one or two drinks, the accent was almost perfect. His arm slung around his bride, he swayed as he chatted with guests.

  Luckily, Sunshine was just the right height to prop him up. A tiny lady of Philippine heritage, she only came up to his shoulders, even in heels. Smiling brightly, she threatened to “loose her cannons” every time she greeted someone new.

  It was a bit silly, but they were having fun. Although if his mom had been invited to such an ev
ent, she would have suffered vapors. Actually, the more he mused about it, the more the idea gave him a perverse pleasure.

  He’d looked for Winn earlier, wanting to clarify his statement in the supply room. Unfortunately, Sunshine had kept her stand-in bridesmaid busy. Between running around taking candid shots of the guests and capturing family wishes on a video, he could see Winn barely had time to grab a drink. To make things worse, a smitten teenaged boy kept following her around, asking for her opinions on Game of Thrones.

  Time to stage a rescue.

  Grabbing two beers from the bar, Patrick made a beeline for Winn. The kid was still chatting her up and she was too polite to walk away.

  “So, what’s your opinion on Jamie Lannister? I see him as a tortured hero.” The boy cast a curious glance at her boobs. “Hey, did anyone ever mention you look a lot like the Mother of Dragons?”

  Winn smiled. “Thank you, I think.”

  Patrick grabbed her hand and pulled her away. “Let’s go, Mother of Dragons. Break time.”

  Before he could haul her out of the restaurant, the DJ blared “The Stripper” over the sound system. “And now, everyone, it’s that time,” he announced over the microphone. “Time for the happy couple to take center stage. Sunshine, I believe you’re wearing a lovely blue garter under that pirate dress.”

  Sunshine raced to the middle of the dance floor, her hands in the air. “Oh, yeah, baby! And my man’s going to pull it off with his teeth.”

  Winn looked at him and handed him her beer. “Sorry. I need to help her out.” She left him and dragged a chair to the middle of the dance floor. Sunshine sat down, waggling her eyebrows at Josh.

  As Winn took a spot in the audience, Patrick moved behind her, suddenly wishing this damn wedding was over. In the meantime, dancing like a Chippendale’s dancer, Josh approached his bride. While the DJ and guests egged him on, he got down on his knees and offered Sunshine a lecherous smile.

  Eating it up, Sunshine put a hand to his wigged head and directed it to her legs.

  Patrick bit his lip, as his cock danced in his breeches. Despite the pirate getups, it was kind of sexy. Especially if he allowed himself to visualize Winn in the chair and him on the floor.

  Josh slowly raised his wife’s skirts, ogling her legs. To numerous hoots, he grabbed the garter with his teeth and eased it over her white leather boot, toward her ankle. When he pulled it off, he stood and shouted like a gladiator in the arena.

  Winn glanced back at him and he held her gaze, suddenly hungry. Hungry for her.

  He couldn’t deny it. He wanted Winn Busby. Wanted her in his arms. Wanted his face between her legs. And more than anything, he wanted to drive his cock deep inside her so she screamed his name.

  And from her tentative gaze, he sensed she wanted it, too.

  Damn, this swashbuckler fiasco really needed to end.

  “And now,” the DJ continued, “Josh is going to toss the garter. I need all the single men on the dance floor.”

  As Winn pulled away, Patrick stared at her and got caught up in the crush of male bodies as they swarmed the floor. He didn’t even watch as the groom threw the garter, but as the silky piece of fabric whizzed by his head, his hand automatically moved to grab it. As the other dudes groaned, Patrick stared at the tiny scrap of lingerie.

  “Huh,” he said, taken off guard.

  Dazed, he barely heard as the DJ rounded up the single women for the bride’s bouquet toss. He looked for Winn. She stood off to the side of the horde of women, doing her duty as bridesmaid, but clearly not interested in the proceedings. Instead of eyeing the bride as Sunshine took aim, Winn just stared at him, seemingly as lost as he was.

  Sunshine lifted her arm to toss the flowers. Just as she did, Josh tickled her and her aim went off-kilter. As a result, the bouquet swerved to the side of the room, and hit Winn in the side of the head. As she rallied, the floral arrangement tumbled into her hands. She stared at the bouquet as if an alien had fallen from the sky.

  Patrick was just about to get her when the DJ continued rambling. “And now comes the fun part. Winn, as the lady who caught the bouquet, you need to take a seat.”

  She looked at the DJ, and then at Patrick, and went white. “No, it’s okay.”

  Despite her protests, Sunshine forced her into the chair. “Sit.” She turned to Patrick. “The man who caught the garter gets to put it on Winn…with his teeth.” And then she collapsed into a fit of giggles.

  Patrick stared at the garter, trying hard to quell his erection. They wanted him to kneel between Winn’s legs and touch her with his mouth? Who were these people?

  He swallowed in an attempt to ease his dry throat.

  Okay. Maybe he could get through this if he considered it research for his story. Only he usually didn’t get hard-ons while researching.

  As the stripper music blared in his head, he knew, without a doubt, he needed to see Winn naked. The idea had plagued him ever since meeting her. Surely by now he’d spent hours ruminating on the curve of her breasts and wondering how she’d taste.

  He needed to get her out of his system. Only then, would he be able to function again. To think again. To goddamn breathe again.

  He strode forward, intending to bring their dance of temptation to an end. As a crowd of strangers offered him encouraging catcalls, he knelt in front of Winn. He lifted the hem of her skirt, glimpsing those sexy boots.

  “Patrick,” she said in a frantic whisper. “You don’t have to do this.”

  He licked his lips, allowing his gaze to roam over her, ensuring she understood his intentions. “I want to do it.”

  The DJ made inane comments in the background. The groom might have even come up and patted him on the shoulder, but Patrick barely heard them. All he saw in that moment was Winn. Her trembling lower lip and the blue-eyed wonder in her gaze. He saw her need and recognized how it matched his own.

  He held up her left leg and placed the garter around her foot, easing it over her heel to her ankle. Once it was secure, he lowered his head, keeping his gaze pinned on her. She sucked in a breath as his teeth gripped the fabric. Moving as if he had all the time in the world, and as if no one watched, he edged the garter up her boot to her thigh. There, he met with soft skin.

  And knew he couldn’t stop.

  Pushing her skirt higher, but keeping it wrapped around her thighs, he caught a glimpse of silky, white panty.

  Jesus Christ.

  As a fever of hunger boiled in his head, he continued sliding the garter up her leg to midthigh. Her leg clenched against his cheek. Her perfume, so light and flowery, assaulted his brain. And for the life of him, he wanted to forget the rest of the world existed and drag his tongue through her pussy.

  He would have dragged that damn garter right up to her waist had the DJ not cleared his throat into the mike.

  “Whoa. Nice job, buddy. And if you didn’t come to the wedding with this lady, something tells me you’ll be going home with her.”

  The sleazy comment hit him like a brick in the stomach. Yes, he was caught up in a bizarre, pirate-inspired sexy moment, but he didn’t want to mortify Winn. He leaned back, pulled down her skirt, and dared to look her in the eye, sure she’d slap his face.

  Only she didn’t.

  She gazed at him, her eyes hooded and her mouth open. As desire flushed her cheeks, she whispered his name.

  He helped her up. “How much longer until we can get out of here?”

  Her eyelids fluttering, she looked at her watch. “I’m contracted to stay one more hour.”

  He bit his tongue, leaned in and murmured, “Fuck. This is going to be the longest hour of my life. Savvy?”

  * * * *

  It was the longest hour of Winn’s life.

  Somewhere in her lusty haze, she watched as the newlyweds cut their Flying Dutchman cake. While other couples danced, she sat quietly with Patrick and they did their best not to manhandle each other. It was hard. Obviously feeling hot, he’d removed his hat and wig an
d had loosened the ties on his pirate shirt. Many of the men had reached similar stages of undress but Patrick elevated the look. He looked like a pirate who’d just tumbled out of bed after a night of wenching.

  Finally, the sexual tension proved too much. His hungry gaze pinned on her, he adjusted the table cloth so that it fell over her lap. He then snuck his fingers up her skirt and toyed with the garter. As his breath hitched, his hand moved past the garter, settling on her upper thigh.

  She looked at him, amazed she’d allow this. Amazed he wanted it. He returned her gaze. God, it had been so long and he made her feel so many strange things. She just wanted…this.

  She nodded.

  His bold fingers, so warm and determined, slid under the elastic of her panties. She bit her lip and tried not to gasp.

  His face placid, but his jaw set, he looked at the dance floor as he touched her. Moving closer, he slid his finger along her lips, as if familiarizing himself with the floor plan. As she locked her gaze on a print of a beach on the far wall, he located her clit and initiated a slow dance with the hard nub. After a couple of torturous circuits, as she waited for their lusty game to be discovered, he slid his finger into her core. She bit back a squeal.

  “Easy,” he whispered. “Sit still, Winn.”

  On and on, he tormented her. He eased his finger out of her pussy and circled her crazed clit, bringing her to the point of sweet release. She’d never done anything so insane. And yet here she sat, getting finger fucked on the job, at a freaking pirate wedding.

  Out of nowhere, or so it seemed, Sunshine appeared before them at the other side of the table. She expected Patrick to remove his hand, or even grow still, but he continued those lazy circles.

  Sunshine handed her an envelope with a discreet hand. Her own hand shook as she accepted it.

  Stroke. Stroke.

  “Thanks for everything, Winn,” said the bride. “You did a great job.”

  She gulped for air. Stroke. “Th-thanks.”

  “Seriously,” continued Sunshine, oblivious. “You’re a total pro. Even working when you felt ill. I’ll tell Margie you were awesome, and such a good sport. I know this wedding has been unusual.”