Favors, Strings, & Lies_Men of NatEx_A Package Handlers Novel Page 3

  Good thing I didn’t think of being drunk before he showed up to deliver my package. Day drinking wouldn’t look good on me. And, with my luck, my mom would have stopped by again and I’d have been hammered six ways to Sunday, which wouldn’t have been good. I was likely going to have a couple tonight anyway, so this is better for my liver. Even if it’s not better for my heart, which is pounding like a jackhammer.

  Deep breath. Hopefully he’ll show up tonight and I can explain. And not make a jackass out of myself again. God, maybe it’d be easier to just tell my mom that I lied. That I made it up. Or that Brian can’t make it after all. Oops. No harm, no foul. Yes, that’ll be my backup plan in case the delivery guy doesn’t show up.

  Whew. That actually makes me feel better. My heart starts to calm down, and I can breathe more easily. Everything will be fine. At least, until the wedding. After that, well… I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.

  For now, I have a bachelorette party to get dressed for.

  ****

  “What are you looking for?” Gina asks me for the third time. She sets her drink on the table, fixes her BRIDE tiara-slash-veil thing, and stares at me while her friends dance a few yards away. “Seriously, you’re worrying me.”

  “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m not looking for anything.” Because I’m looking for an anyone, I don’t say. But the thought is there as I sip the last of my second margarita.

  Because I’ve been training for a marathon and busy working a high-pressure job, I haven’t had an alcoholic beverage in at least a year. Having two margaritas was probably a bad idea, but the shots the girls have insisted we do were worse ideas. And my words probably came out all slurred, but I can’t even recall.

  “You totally are,” she persists. Then she takes a gulp of her drink. “It better be a guy. Oooh!” She half-assed punches my arm, a little sloppy from all the free bachelorette drinks she’s received tonight. “Is it Brian? Mom told me about Brian.” The way she stretches his name out gives me goose bumps.

  I whip my head in her direction. “Shh!”

  “Hey!” She swats at me and scowls. “Don’t ruin my amazing bachelorette party!” Her expression quickly turns into a relaxed grin. “By the way, you did amazing. This is amazing. Thank you. Oh!”

  The song changed while she was talking, and she points to the ceiling like that’s where all the speakers are.

  “This is my jam! Oooh!” She grabs her drink and heads back to the dance floor with her friends.

  Inside, I’m pleased. I’m glad she’s enjoying her party. And I’m glad I can scratch this off my long list of maid of honor duties. I didn’t do a whole lot besides let the bar know we were coming. We happen to be here on a popular night, so lots of people are excited about why she’s here, which is fun for her.

  I’m also thrilled that she seems to have forgotten about Brian. But I haven’t. I can’t. Did he take the hint? Can he please show up before Gina’s friends get me so drunk that I can’t see two feet in front of me?

  Like I summoned him with my words, I spot him walking over to the bar on the other side of the room. He’s with another man, who I suddenly hope isn’t his boyfriend. That may derail things. I mean, he could still accompany me to the wedding, but nothing more could happen.

  Do I want nothing more to happen? Drunk Cadence wants lots more to happen. He’s rather sexy in street clothes. Going-out clothes. Clothes he might have put on because he knew he’d run into me. I mean, don’t get me wrong. He’s rather sexy in his package delivery uniform too. But nice jeans and a button-down? Hallelujah.

  He wouldn’t have come and brought his boyfriend, right? That would make no sense. But I’m suddenly determined to go up to him and ask. I want to know right this minute.

  It’s perfect timing too, because all the bachelorette party women head back to the table and start chanting, “Shots! Shots! Shots!” Their squeals can probably be heard at the craft store two blocks over.

  Slinging my tiny bag over my shoulder, I narrowly miss bumping right into one of the ladies—I think her name is Makayla or Makenzie—as I make my way toward the bar. My sister nabs my arm and whines at me, but I point to my empty glass and make the universal hand gesture for drinking.

  “Get me one!” she shouts in my direction.

  At least, I think that’s what she said. And I know she doesn’t need another one. Definitely not one I have to pay for when she’s gotten free drinks all night. I don’t tell her that though. I just keep walking—or stumbling—over to the bar. Right toward Brian. Or whatever his name really is. He’ll have to be Brian for a while. And straight if he’s not.

  God, was I drunk when I came up with this plan? What is wrong with me?

  I start really pondering that question just before I reach him, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder what’s wrong with me at this very moment. And not in the mental-capacity way. Even though my body seems to be preparing itself for actually speaking with this sexy man. No, I’m questioning it more in the physical way.

  No, seriously, my stomach lurches and my throat starts to burn the second I tap Brian-or-whatever on the shoulder. As soon as he faces me, my eyes begin to water and my body floods with heat.

  “Hey!” he says, smiling at me. But his smile slides into a concerned frown. “Whoa, are you okay?”

  My mouth fills with saliva and I gag right in front of him. Wonderful.

  So, instead of demanding if that’s his boyfriend next to him, I spin around and rush to the bathroom, one hand covering my mouth and the other clutching my small purse to my body. In the only open stall, I lose the contents of my stomach—and hopefully some of this buzz.

  Or maybe not. Seeing as I did, in fact, make a jackass out of myself yet again. Hopefully I lose the memory of this night completely.

  Chapter 4

  Matt

  “Uh, what just happened?” Aidan asks as the door to the women’s bathroom swings closed behind Cadence. “Wasn’t that your girl?”

  I bristle at his choice of words. She’s not my girl. Not yet, anyway. And that thought makes me bristle too. I came out tonight to have some fun and see where the night with her would take me. Not make her my girl. I figured she wanted me here, but she just ran off, looking sick. And my best friend is asking about my girl. Confused isn’t even the half of it.

  Even though she’s not my girl, I nod. But that’s all I can do because she ran away and I’m still trying to figure out why.

  “She took one look at your ugly mug and made a beeline for the bathroom.” Aidan chuckles before he takes a drink from his glass. Then he sets it on the bar. “Sucks to be you, man.”

  After rolling my eyes, I peek around the bar and find her friends: a loud, rowdy group of women including one wearing a bride’s veil. When I saw her with them earlier, she seemed out of her element but like she was still having fun. Dancing, drinking, relaxing after a long week. Or I assume it was a long week. The phone call I overheard sounded a little stressful even though it was about meeting up to have a good time. I’m not even sure this woman knows how to relax or have a good time, now that I think about it.

  An unexplainable pull tears my feet from the ground and sends me toward her friends. Behind me, Aidan asks where I’m going, but I wave a hand at him without turning around. I’m concerned now, and I want to make sure Cadence is okay.

  When I reach them, I try to shout over the music. “Is Cadence feeling all right?” I yell to the one with the veil.

  She slows her dancing down to more manageable movements to speak to me. “Where is she?”

  “She ran to the bathroom,” I explain. “Is everything okay? Has she been drinking too much?”

  “I’m sure she’s fine!” she shouts, twisting on the dance floor. “Who are you though?” Then she gasps and pulls me closer to her by tugging on my arms. “Are you Brian? She was looking for you!”

  Uh, I don’t know who Brian is or why she’s looking for him. Especially because she came over
to me right before she ran to the bathroom. But, if saying yes will help me get to the bottom of this, then yes. I totally am Brian. So I nod.

  “Well, go get her, then, silly! I’m sure she’ll be right out!” She spins me around and sends me off in the direction of the ladies’ room.

  They aren’t concerned for her, but I still am. The look on her face before she took off has nervousness brewing in my gut. So I head off to the bathroom to see how she is myself. And I don’t have to wait long. As soon as I reach the door, Cadence exits, one hand over her mouth and the other over her stomach.

  “Are you okay?” I ask the second we make eye contact.

  She pauses, her eyes going wide. Then she swallows, drops her hands to her sides, and shakes her head a little as if to clear it. After clearing her throat, she nods. “Better now,” she says. “Sorry about that.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for,” I tell her, holding hand out to her. “Let me get you some water.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she bobs her head again and takes my hand. Her tentative behavior had my heart in my throat for a second, but her skin on mine sends it back where it should be, though beating more rapidly than normal. Something about her touch, her hand in mine, puts butterflies in my stomach and hits me when I’m completely unprepared for it. I don’t know why I care so much or feel so much better now that I have eyes—and my hand—on her, but I don’t allow myself to think about it right now. Getting her some water is my top priority, so I shove these feelings down and guide us toward the bar.

  Once we get there, I flag the bartender down and order a glass of water. When it arrives, I hand it over to her, and she carefully sips it. Then Aidan claps a hand on my back, so I glance at him, but that’s all the time I give him. I keep my focus on Cadence.

  “Everything okay?” he asks.

  She nods as she sips more water, and I let that be enough of an answer.

  “Good. Look, man,” he says closer to my ear so I can hear him. “I think I’m gonna take off. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  I give him a single nod in response. In return, he gives my back a slap before he takes off for the door. I still don’t look at him though. No, instead, I watch her as she watches me. When she moves her glass of water away from her face, one eyebrow rises and a small smile starts to split her lips.

  “What?” I ask her, drawing my own eyebrows down.

  She opens her mouth and then closes it. She shakes her head, smirking and gazing at the ground. But then she flicks her gaze toward the door, where Aidan’s leaving the building, before looking at me again. “Is that your boyfriend?”

  At first, my eyebrows pull in even tighter. After that, I can’t help the laugh that shoots out of my mouth. This woman thinks I’m gay? I’ve clearly been doing some things wrong.

  Shaking my head, I run a hand over the stubble on my cheeks and my chin. Then I lean closer to her to speak near her ear. “Not unless something like that turns you on.”

  When I pull back, her mouth is a perfectly round O-shape. Which means she might be considering it—and I wasn’t really serious about that.

  “Tell me that’s not something that turns you on,” I deadpan.

  She purses her lips and shrugs, not giving me anything to work with. Toying with me.

  That makes me smirk at her. “Then I guess we’ll never know if I’m up for it.”

  A short burst of a laugh flies out of her mouth before she sips her water again. “You’re not very professional tonight,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest, careful not to spill from her glass.

  “I don’t have to be when I’m not on the clock,” I respond, mimicking her posture. “Besides”—I lean in toward her—“do you want me to be?”

  Again, she purses her lips and shrugs. But then she says, “Probably not.” She squints, staring off into space for a moment. “No, definitely not.”

  “All right, then,” I say on a small laugh. Then I jut my chin toward the exit Aidan walked out of. “Wanna get outta here?”

  She inhales a deep, lengthy breath before blowing it out, her bangs breezing around her forehead. “I probably should.” She pokes her thumb in the direction of the bathroom. “Can’t have that happen again here.”

  I hold my hand out to her, and this time, she takes it without any hesitation. I tug her closer to me and then throw an arm around her shoulder.

  Next to her ear, I say, “Should you say goodbye to anyone?”

  She peeks around me and finds her friends in the throng of swaying, sweaty bodies on the dance floor. Halfheartedly, she wags her arms to get their attention, her purse under one arm. When they look at her, she waves and points to the door. The one with the veil—the one who called me Brian—waves wildly and then raises and lowers her eyebrows several times while flicking her gaze to me.

  I don’t think it’s like that, seeing as she threw up in the bathroom not ten minutes ago. But hey, I’m not saying it can’t be like that. In fact, if I’m being honest, that’s half the reason why I came to the bar tonight. So I definitely want it to be like that. Just…maybe not right now.

  Cadence throws a dismissive wave at her friend before walking with me out the door of the bar. With my hand on her back, I guide her toward the parking lot. Then I ask her if she drove here.

  She shakes her head. “Nah. We took a limo, so I don’t have a car here.”

  Good. Then I’m in control of where we go. So I lead her to my car. And then drive her straight to my place.

  ∞∞∞

  Cadence

  I assume we’re headed to his house. Or apartment. Whatever. He’s not asking me for directions, and I’m okay with that. But it’s going to be on my terms. And there’s just enough darkness in the car to hide behind and I have just enough tipsy left in me to voice those terms.

  Only just enough. Most of it went down the toilet with all the alcohol. Which is fine, actually. Obviously, I’d rather be clearheaded at a total stranger’s house.

  I swivel my head toward him. “I would like to propose some terms here.”

  He glances at me before focusing on the road again, his hand on the gear shifter between us. “Would one of those be calling me Brian?”

  Unable to stop it, I gasp. “Why would you think that?” Then my hand flies to my mouth. “Did you talk to my sister?”

  A one-sided smirk rises on his lips. “Was she the one wearing the veil?”

  Without moving my hand, I nod slowly. “What did she say to you?”

  “That you were looking for someone named Brian, so I said I was him.” Then he rushes out with, “Just in case you were sick.” After a breath, he says, “I didn’t want to not be able to help you if not being Brian was a bad thing.”

  Well, there goes the tipsy. His words sober me like nothing ever has before. In case I was sick. He lied to my sister to make sure he could take care of me. And, now, I don’t even remember what my terms are. Because he told my family that he’s Brian. The guy I said I was bringing to my sister’s wedding.

  This may be easier than I thought it was going to be. He’s already aware that a Brian exists, so maybe he won’t mind pretending to be him for another two weeks. It could be that simple, right?

  No, it also may turn out to be a terrible, awful mess. I still have to get him to said wedding. Not just allow my family to assume he’s who they think he is. He’ll need to be my date. Do date-type things with me. It can’t be that simple.

  “What’s going on over there?” he asks as he makes a right turn.

  “Hmm?” I ask now that I’ve been pulled from my thoughts.

  “You sighed. Everything okay?” He glances at me again but returns his focus to driving shortly after.

  In the darkness of the car, I thank my lucky stars. He can’t see how red my skin likely is. I’m sure I’m flaming red, considering how toasty I feel right now. This whole thing is kind of embarrassing. I lied to my family, and now, he got caught in the web before I could warn him. Or before I could t
ake it all back.

  I can still do that. We can have whatever this night is and then we don’t ever have to see each other again. I’ll never order things that have to be delivered to my house. Or I’ll find out what streets are included in his delivery route and buy a house outside of that. I’m a realtor after all. That’s possible.

  Dramatic, but possible. Whatever.

  I shake my head, ready to be through with this nonsense. I’m not nearly drunk enough to deal with it. “It’s nothing.”

  “Seems like something to me,” he says before pulling into a driveway. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay.”

  Because he wants to do all kinds of other things besides talking? At this point, I can get behind that. Less talking sounds good to me. Talking is what got me into this mess, so no more talking sounds like a lot less trouble.

  “I don’t,” I tell him, willing whatever seduction I have in me to find its way out of my mouth. “Let’s go inside.”

  He wastes no time before opening the car door. I, however, don’t miss the way my hand shakes as it hovers over the handle. Luckily, he’s already outside my door, opening it for me, so he doesn’t notice. I shake my hand out as I step out of his car. There’s no time for that. The only thing there’s time for is moving on.

  It’s been a long-ass time since I’ve slept with anyone, but it’s time I change that. I previously thought that one night with him wouldn’t be enough, but if all goes according to plan, I’ll have at least two weeks with him. It’s going to be two stressful, busy weeks anyway. Not a whole lot of work or marathon training getting done. So it’s the absolute perfect time to finally get over the hump. Or get humped.

  That thought makes me giggle. Out loud. Which makes me stare at me funny.

  “Obviously, something is going on in that head of yours.” He opens the front door and gestures for me to go inside, a smile tipping his lips up. “Feel free to let me in on whatever it is.”