“Would you help me?”

He stared down at her, clearly unable to believe what she was proposing. “Hold up a second, Nice. You want me to help you make some loser ex-boyfriend jealous?”

She gritted her teeth at his use of her nickname—and the fact that he immediately assumed any boyfriend of hers had to be a loser—but forced herself to let it go. For now.

“You didn’t bring anyone to the wedding, right?” A few weeks ago he’d told her he was coming stag so that he could keep watch over his staff at the bar. Sophie figured it was also a good way to make sure he had his pick of hot single guests for an after-party in his bed. She forcefully tamped down the surge of jealousy at that vision as she said, “Please, Jake, will you help me?”

But he was already shaking his head. “No one will ever believe it. And your brothers will kill me if they think I’m looking at you that way.”

Damn his bad reputation and her crystal clear one.

And damn her brothers for being so protective.

Jake was right. They would tear him to shreds if they ever thought he’d so much as had an impure thought about her or Lori. But she refused to give up now, not with his disdainful, “You’d better go get pretty then, shouldn’t you, princess?” still running through her head.

“Are you kidding?” she said with a laugh. “Of course none of them would believe it. You?” She laughed harder. “And me?” She shook her head as if the whole idea were utterly preposterous...even though she’d written their love story a thousand times in her dreams. “We’ve all seen the kind of girls you go for. I would be surprised if half of them can even spell their own names.”

When he scowled, she belatedly realized she might have gone too far.

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“Don’t worry,” she reassured him, “we’ll make sure none of my family or friends sees us. Just my ex.”

“Does this guy have a name?”

The way Jake looked right then, like he was going to tear her ex apart with his bare hands, she didn’t think it would be fair to give him Alex’s name.

Thinking fast, she said, “I don’t like saying it aloud.”

“Did he hurt you?”

She was glad she hadn’t had too much to eat for breakfast, otherwise it would have threatened to come back up as she moved her hand over her heart and said, “Only here,” in an overly theatrical way.

Sophie was certain anyone else would have seen through her terrible acting job, but Jake was so bound and determined not to notice anything about her it looked like she was actually going to get away with this.

Knowing it was make-or-break time, she played her final card. “Please, Jake. You’re the only one I can ask to help me get a little revenge on a big jerk.” She leaned in close to his ear and said in a hushed voice, “It will be our little secret.”

God, he smelled good, so good she wanted to rub her lips over the faint stubble on his cheek. Instead, she forced herself to shift her weight away from him.

Finally he said, “Fine. If you’re that desperate, I’ll do it. Although I still don’t think this plan of yours has much of a chance of working.”

“Oh,” she said softly, the word desperate grating along with princess and Nice, “it will work all right. I’ll make absolutely sure of it.”

* * *

What the hell had just happened?

Jake McCann knew how he was supposed to feel about Sophie Sullivan. He was supposed to love her the way a guy loved his little sister, to watch over her, to make sure she was safe and happy. He was supposed to be blind to the way Sophie had filled out over the years.

He shouldn’t have been appreciating her curves beneath her clothes as she’d stood in the middle of the vineyard and surveyed the wedding preparations. And when he was putting her hat back on her head and her eyes had gone all dreamy, he sure as hell shouldn’t have felt the crazy urge to drag her against him and kiss that soft mouth.

But he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she walked away, couldn’t stop thinking about how soft her cheek felt against the pad of his thumb and the way her hair slid like silk through his fingers.

Damn it.

How long had he worked to deny the way he felt about Sophie? How many years had he told himself it was nothing he couldn’t work out of his system with other women? Women who were good for a few hours in the sack, but who didn’t have an ounce of Sophie’s natural elegance. Her brains. Her gentleness.

How was he going to make it through an entire wedding with Sophie when his self-control had slipped a little more each time he saw her over the past months? Sitting close to her as she ran through the wedding plans with him, breathing in her sweet scent, wondering if she would taste just as sweet against his tongue, had been slowly driving him crazy. Day by day she’d crept into his thoughts, his dreams, more and more.

Standing in the middle of Marcus’s vineyard with Sophie near enough to pull her into his arms, he’d been caught between two impossible choices. Reach out and finally claim her the way he’d fantasized about taking her for far too long...or push her away for her own good.

His chest clenched with regret as he remembered Sophie’s wounded expression after he’d made those cracks about her clothes and needing to be made pretty for the wedding. She was the last person in the world he wanted to hurt, which was exactly why he’d made sure to keep his distance as much as possible over the years.




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