Delicious Deception Page 20

  “You and Cullen are perfect for each other,” Kennedy responded. “Jerry and I … weren’t.”

  “We are hardly perfect for one another, although Cullen is the perfect guy.” She absently twisted the engagement ring on her finger, a dreamy smile on her lips.

  Cullen was often gruff, swore like a sailor, and quite possibly did not own a razor. He was lousy at small talk and awkward at family functions. But he was loyal to a fault, adored Sabrina to the point of obsession, and if one liked scruffy guys, he was definitely handsome.

  Sabrina laughed. “You don’t think so. I can tell. Which is okay, because he’s about to be my husband, not yours. What’s your version of the perfect guy?”

  “No guy is perfect.”

  “Fair enough, but what type of guy would make you happy?”

  “Anyone besides Jerry.”

  That earned her a stern look from Sabrina’s reflection in the mirror.

  “Okay, okay,” Kennedy relented. “I’ll play your game. Let’s see … perfect guy …”

  “Someone who doesn’t cheat.”

  “That’s a given,” Kennedy pointed out, although she understood why her cousin mentioned it.

  “What else?”

  “This is hard.” She pondered the question. “I guess I’d like someone who proves he cares by his actions instead of just saying it all the time.”

  “That’s reasonable.”

  “And I’d like someone who has his own life, too. You know I work a lot of hours at the hospital, and I like what I do. I imagine I’d come to resent a guy who expects me to work a nine-to-five schedule just because it fits his needs.”

  “Considering I’m marrying an FBI agent, and agents definitely don’t work regular hours, I get that. Anything else?”

  “I’m not into going out on the town all the time, clubbing and such. So when we would get to spend time together, I’d want to do it at home, cooking together or watching a movie or, I don’t know, just hanging out—that’s my idea of a perfect evening.”

  “So no party animals for you.”

  “Nope. But he still has to be—” she cut herself off.

  “Good in bed?” They shared a laugh. Sabrina abruptly sobered and said, “I think you should start dating again. In fact, Joey, one of the groomsmen, is single, and he’s really sweet. Good looking, too. I bet he fits at least some of your criteria.”

  “Don’t even think about setting me up at your wedding.”

  “Weddings are the perfect place to meet someone.”

  “Weddings are the perfect place to meet a one-night stand, and if I’m not interested in dating, I’m sure as heck not interested in that.”

  “Why not? Not about the one-night stand necessarily, but about dating at all?”

  Sabrina’s earnestness invited an honest response. But Kennedy didn’t know how to respond. Five years ago, she’d married a man who’d swept her off her feet, who’d given her empty promises about rainbows and unicorns. Two years later, he’d stolen every last nickel and charged her credit cards to the max before disappearing out of her life.

  The official story was that he’d cheated on her, so she’d demanded the divorce. That was humiliating enough, but she figured if everyone knew the truth—that he’d literally stolen everything while she’d been stupidly unaware—that would be ten times worse. Cheating was, unfortunately, a fact of life. It happened, you moved on, and you hoped to find someone new, someone who wouldn’t cheat. But your own husband leaving you with literally no recourse whatsoever? There was something far more … embarrassing about that, at least in Kennedy’s mind.

  “How can I?” Kennedy asked, sticking with the lie she’d told everyone, even her cousin and best friend. “How can I trust someone again?”

  Sabrina adjusted her veil and squeezed her fist around the white-with-blue-embroidery handkerchief in her hand. “You just do. I don’t know how to explain it. You just reach a point where you realize this man is the one, and you are going to put all of your trust in him because you are so in love you don’t really have a choice.”

  “I did that with Jerry, remember?”

  “Did you, really?” Kennedy averted her eyes. What her cousin implied was right. The hurricane on the day of her wedding hadn’t been the only warning sign. She had just been a fool and refused to pay attention.

  “I won’t ever make that mistake again,” she vowed.

  “Certainly not if you never date again.”

  She smirked. “It’s safer that way.”

  “Safe isn’t fun. Live a little. Enjoy yourself today. Dance with Joey. Flirt with him. See where it leads.” Before Kennedy could protest again, Sabrina turned away from the mirror and lifted the billowing, white skirt. “Now come on, I want to get married.”

  Kennedy grabbed the train to make it easier for Sabrina to walk. I can’t take the chance, she thought as she followed her cousin out of the bride’s room.

  • • •

  They met the groomsmen in the lobby, just outside the chapel. Cullen’s brother, Marshall, was the best man, a less scruffy and slightly shorter version of the groom. When he saw the bride, he smiled widely and spread his arms as if he intended to hug her, but caught himself and squeezed her hand instead, murmuring that she was beautiful and Cullen was a hell of a lucky guy.

  Cullen’s FBI agent partner, Jack Boudreaux, wasn’t nearly so couth. When he saw the bride, he gave a loud wolf whistle and pulled her into a bear hug, lifting her off her feet and causing her to squeal. Kennedy expected the bride’s uptight sister, Vanessa, to snap at him for crushing the bride’s dress, but she simpered instead.

  Kennedy supposed she could understand. Cullen’s partner was an incredibly attractive man. Although Cullen and Sabrina had been dating for a year now, Kennedy hadn’t yet met his closest friend. Now that she was admiring him from only a few feet away, she was sort of glad she hadn’t. He was James Bond with thick, blond hair and a clean-shaven jawline, and he looked damn good in a tux.

  Damn good.

  It wasn’t like she hadn’t come across hot guys throughout the course of the last three years, so why was her heart racing? Why did she feel flushed? She forced herself not to fan her face, even as she worried that she was breaking out in a sweat and might ruin her makeup.

  Not going there. Jerry had been good-looking, too, and look where that had gotten her.

  He wasn’t this good-looking.

  Kennedy wanted to tell her inner voice to shut the hell up. Besides, Joey was the groomsman Sabrina had suggested she get to know better. Sabrina had said precious little about Jack over the course of her and Cullen’s courtship, other than the occasional comment about him being a playboy. Which explained why she wouldn’t have suggested Kennedy break free of her self-induced, nun-like lifestyle with him. Another cheater wasn’t on the agenda.

  “I was just informed that you and I are walking into the chapel together.”

  Kennedy shifted her focus to the man who was speaking, the very man she had just been salivating over. “Uh, we are?”

  He did that slow perusal thing with his eyes that guys did when they wanted a girl to know they liked what they saw. A slow smile curved his lips. “Yep.”

  She recognized that look. She may have been out of the dating game for far too long, but she still understood the process. What she didn’t know was how to respond.

  “No, no,” Vanessa interrupted, as she wedged herself between them. “You and I should walk down the aisle together.” She batted thickly mascaraed lashes and smiled coyly. Kennedy resisted the urge to stick her finger into her mouth in a gagging motion. They weren’t in high school anymore, even if Vanessa was acting like a lovesick teenager.

  “Cullen told me he’ll kick my ass if I don’t do what the wedding planner tells me,” Jack commented. “And she said I’m supposed to walk in with the hot brunette.”

  Hot brunette? Was he talking about her?

  Vanessa brushed a perfectly coifed blond curl off her shoulder and
lifted her chin. With an audible sniff, she said, “The pictures will look better if you and I are in them together.”

  Jack arched his brows. “I could’ve sworn this wedding was about Cullen and Sabrina. Not you.”

  Vanessa opened her mouth to retort, but the wedding planner grabbed her arm in a vise-like grip and dragged her away to stand alone at the end of the processional.

  “Where’s the best man?” Kennedy asked, as she watched Vanessa argue with the wedding planner.

  “Already inside with the groom. Cullen was looking a little panicked, so the priest suggested his brother be up there for moral support.”

  “Oh no. He isn’t having second thoughts, is he?”

  Jack chuckled. “Hell no. If he could’ve had his way, Cullen would’ve carted her off to Vegas a year ago. Sabrina wanted this dog and pony show, and he’s doing it because he loves her, but he hates being in the spotlight like this.” He abruptly changed the subject. “So Cullen tells me you’re the bride’s BFF.”

  “Yes. We’re cousins as well.”

  “How come stalker woman is the maid of honor?”

  “You mean Vanessa? She’s Sabrina’s sister.” Kennedy giggled, taking herself by surprise. When was the last time she’d giggled in the presence of someone of the opposite sex who wasn’t related to her?

  “She’s scary as hell. I haven’t been pursued like that in a long time.”

  “Vanessa has been pursuing you?”

  Jack nodded. “She practically attacked me as soon as I walked into the church. I’m not really into that. I’m into more subtle women.”

  She ignored the last bit and blurted, “She’s married.”

  Jack arched those sleek, blond brows again. “Now I’m really glad I didn’t let her catch me. I’m not into married women either.”

  He gave Kennedy’s left hand a pointed look. She squeezed her bouquet until she was afraid she would snap the stems on the burgundy and cream-colored roses. She was so lousy at this game. Besides the fact she wasn’t even sure she wanted to play it in the first place.

  “What about divorced women?” Oh my God, did I just say that out loud?

  Jack shrugged. “I like single women. Divorced is single.”

  Kennedy’s chest heaved as she sucked in air. “I’m not—” She lost her train of thought when he reached over, cupped her wrist, and pulled her arm through the crook of his, resting her hand on his forearm. Not only did he look amazing in the tux, but he felt good, too.

  Not good.

  “Showtime,” Jack murmured, and Kennedy realized that the doors to the chapel were open and the music started, indicating it was time for the processional to begin.

  She struggled to fill her lungs. Jack gave her a concerned look. “You okay?”

  Kennedy shook her head and focused on breathing. In and out. That’s it. This wasn’t her wedding. It was Sabrina’s, and Sabrina was marrying the man of her dreams. The right man. Her forever happily ever after.

  “I just don’t like weddings as a rule.”

  “Why not?”

  “My own was a disaster.”

  • • •

  Jack watched Kennedy watch the bride. A slow, sad smile spread across her face as Sabrina began to make her way down the aisle. He turned his attention to the bride, too.

  She looked like a frigging princess in that big, white gown. Her smile was so wide that he was half-afraid her face would split in two. He glanced at his partner and best friend. The deer-in-the-headlights look that had been on his face since early this morning was gone, replaced by adoration, as his eyes never left his almost-wife. Cullen was hooked, no doubt about it. Sabrina was, and now always would be, the center of his world.

  Lucky bastard, Jack thought, even as he followed that thought with, I couldn’t imagine being so beholden to another person. It worked for Cullen—which was a hell of a surprise, frankly—but he knew marriage wasn’t for everyone.

  Kennedy was married?

  He shifted his gaze to watch the hot bridesmaid standing across the aisle, who was now watching the bride and groom with rapt attention. He’d missed that little tidbit of information somewhere along the way. She wasn’t wearing a ring. He’d noticed that because he’d been scoping out the various options for a little after-reception female companionship.

  Weddings were a great place to pick up a one-night stand, but you had to be careful to pick a woman who didn’t have forever on her mind at the moment. The good thing was, the generous pours at the open bar tended to make almost anyone forget about forever, at least until the next morning. And Jack was good at slipping out of bed and out of their lives before they could even suggest exchanging phone numbers, let alone talk about a second—or hell, how about a first?—date.

  He’d narrowed his focus to Kennedy, and had assumed she was single. While dodging the maid of honor, he’d caught sight of the willowy, brunette bridesmaid and his interest had immediately been piqued. He could tell she was one of those women who didn’t demand to be the center of attention, who was probably more of a wallflower. In his experience, women like that tended to be wildcats in the sack. Perfect for a temporary wedding pickup.

  Whether she preferred to duck the spotlight or not, she was definitely sexy. Besides that thick, chestnut-brown hair that trailed halfway down her back, she had expressive, green, doe eyes set into a heart-shaped face, along with Cupid’s bow pink lips that caused his imagination to wander into seriously smutty places.

  She wore the bridesmaid dress well, too. It was a simple number in a bronze color, with a halter neckline that emphasized the top swell of breasts that were neither too small nor too large. All things considered, his choice of a bed partner for the night hadn’t been difficult at all.

  Except for the whole marriage bit. He wasn’t into married women, no matter how attractive they were. He’d hooked up with a handful of married women throughout his misspent youth, and each time had been a disaster—an emotional roller coaster for the women and mediocre sex for him. It was hard to get excited when a woman either cried or talked about another man constantly. In his experience, women who cheated didn’t really want to cheat; they just wanted their significant other to notice them.

  The roar of applause, catcalls, and wolf whistles indicated that the ceremony was at an end, and Jack shifted his focus to watch the groom bend his bride over his arm and kiss her with such enthusiasm that the priest blushed.

  • • •

  Kennedy felt a pang of jealousy combined with regret as she watched her cousin and new husband make out on the altar. Five years previously, she’d received no more than a chaste peck on the cheek from her groom. Two years later, she’d sat in her living room and cried frustrated tears and thought, I should have known it wouldn’t last.

  As Cullen and Sabrina posed for the photographer before proceeding down the aisle after being pronounced husband and wife, Kennedy tortured herself by comparing the ratio of couples to individuals in the church. She realized the number of married couples far outweighed the number of single people. Those couples were happy, too, as far as she could tell, which only added to her misery. Kennedy wanted to be happy.

  She eyed her wedding counterpart. Jack was single, and he seemed happy. Maybe he knew something she didn’t.

  “Stay away from him,” Sabrina had warned her a half dozen times. “The women love him, but he only wants one thing.”

  Considering how just the simplest touch from Jack had spiked her blood pressure, she suspected it was not difficult at all for him to pick up women when he was in the mood for a little action.

  Was that the key to happiness as a single person? Occasional one-night stands, with no other expectations? Jack looked, at the very least, content and comfortable in his own skin.

  Kennedy certainly wasn’t happy, and neither did she feel comfortable in her own skin half the time. She tended to dress down, to hide herself, to try to avoid being noticed by the opposite sex. It was easier that way. Otherwise, she might have t
o be forced to address unwanted attentions from men like Jack.

  They were unwanted, weren’t they?

  Since her divorce three years ago, Kennedy had not dated at all. She was too afraid. She’d fallen for her lying ex-husband, let him talk her into moving from her comfort zone—her hometown of Dallas—to New Orleans, a town that was an entirely different world. She’d let him talk her into marrying him. And then he’d taken everything, including her pride, right from under her nose.

  She glanced at Jack again, caught him watching her, and averted her eyes.

  Kennedy’s experience with one-night stands was limited to two times in her entire life. There was that one time in college, when the guy had bet his friends that he could convince her to sleep with him. She thought he wanted to date her, wanted so much more, until the next morning when he laughed while he pulled his shorts over his thighs and said, “Thanks for that, Kennedy. I’m strapped for cash right now and that twenty bucks will sure come in handy.”

  The other time had been a stupid mistake she’d made with the divorce attorney she’d hired when her ex stole all her money. So she probably shouldn’t be open to attempting another one-night stand.

  Except that, honestly, wasn’t it different if she knew about it up front? If both parties had the same expectation? While the outcome had been humiliating, she could admit that the sex with the attorney had been good, at least while she’d been in the moment.

  Maybe it had been good because it was a one-night stand.

  She eyed Jack again. He certainly looked like he could please a woman in bed. Those big hands, with lean, nimble fingers. What would they feel like, caressing her breasts, sliding down her belly to the apex of her thighs?

  Those full, slightly pouty lips trailing kisses along her throat, over her chest, suckling her nipples. His tongue darting out to tease her skin as he continued his downward path, until his lips were pressed against that part of her body that hadn’t felt the touch of a man’s lips in …

  “Almost done,” Jack murmured, pulling her abruptly from the impromptu fantasy. His chocolate-brown eyes watched her from under hooded lids.