Why Not Tonight (Happily Inc. #3)

“Jasper Dembenski,” the man said, holding out his hand. “You’re one of the Mitchell brothers, right?”

“Ronan.” He almost said “Mathias’s twin” but caught himself in time. He wasn’t, they weren’t, and he still hadn’t figured out how to accept the truth.

The man’s name was familiar. Before Ronan could place it, the woman he was with spoke.

“I’m Wynn Beauchene.”

She was beautiful with high cheekbones, black curly hair and brown eyes. For a second Ronan wished he sketched more, or painted. Wynn would make an excellent subject.

He sat down. Natalie took the last seat and grinned at Wynn.

“It’s Latice night.”

Jasper glanced at her. “What does that mean?”

“Wait and see,” Wynn told him with a smug smile.

“I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” He glanced at Ronan. “Wynn loves it when I get beaten by a woman.”

“I confess, I do. Maybe it’s wrong, but I’m willing to live with the flaw.”

The games were passed out. Wynn and Natalie put the tiles face down and swirled them around until they were all mixed up.

“I believe I’m the youngest person at the table,” Natalie said with a grin as she started taking tiles.

Wynn groaned. “I’d forgotten that part. Yes, Natalie, you get to start.”

Natalie leaned close and lowered her voice. “Wynn gets crabby when she loses.”

“You know I can hear you,” Wynn said. “And that’s not true.”

“It’s a little true,” Jasper told her.

Wynn laughed. “All right. Maybe. I’ll try to be on my best behavior.”

One of the servers got on the loudspeakers and went over the rules. Ronan only half paid attention. He was more interested in how Natalie had shifted her chair a little closer to his.

Their server appeared with a beer for him and a glass of white wine for Natalie. A bell rang and play started.

The premise was deceptively simple—match tiles either by color or image. There was a strategic element Natalie had nailed. He knew that wind tiles allowed you to move a piece, and sunstones...well, he wasn’t sure what they did, but within fifteen minutes, Natalie had an ongoing collection and seemed to play three turns for every one of his.

She won the first game. “We’ll play two more rounds,” she said, “with the winners advancing to the finals.”

“Uh-huh. So I’ll be going home early.”

“We all will be,” Wynn said with a grin. Then she touched Jasper’s arm. “Come on. Let’s get something at the bar. On our way, we’ll discuss ways to end Natalie’s reign of terror.”

Natalie grinned as they left. When they were out of earshot, she leaned close to Ronan.

“So what do you think? Are they a couple? I mean, I think they are, but Wynn never says anything and I don’t want to ask.”

“Since when? You ask me personal questions all the time.”

“That’s totally different. Wynn’s one of my girlfriends. I have to respect her personal space.”

“But not mine?”

“Not really.”

She was tantalizingly close. He wanted to move that last inch and kiss her. But they were in public, and when he made his move, he wanted them to be alone.

“Who is Jasper? He seems familiar.”

Her brows rose. “You don’t know his face—it’s his name. He’s a writer. His books are thrillers and you’ve probably read them.”

The information clicked into place. “I have. He’s great.”

“Are you going to go all fan-boy? I’m not sure how Jasper will react. Maybe it will be a sweet moment for both of you.”

“Very funny.”

“I am funny.”

She was a lot of things, he thought as he stared into her eyes. Pretty and sweet and sexy. The kind of sexy that made a man ache all over.

“Am I interrupting?” Wynn asked as she returned to the table. “You two are looking intense.”

Ronan straightened, not sure what to say. Natalie grinned at her friend.

“We were talking about you and Jasper, wondering if you were a couple.”

So much for respecting a friend’s personal space, Ronan thought with a chuckle.

“It’s an interesting question,” Wynn said serenely. “Now if only there were an answer.”

*

NATALIE MADE IT to the final round only to have an unexpectedly bad couple of games. She wasn’t sure how she’d become so distracted. It might have been the second glass of wine—something she rarely indulged in—or maybe the blame lay with not having Ronan sitting next to her.

She’d thought it was impossible to concentrate when the man was right there—breathing, talking, laughing. She’d been aware of everything. Of his broad shoulders, of how she could almost feel the heat from his body, of the way he had of looking at her as if she were the most interesting person in the room. It was a heady combination. Yet when she’d moved on to the final round and he hadn’t, he’d left. Just like that, and she’d had, well, nothing.

The whole evening was confusing. While they’d been playing, she would have sworn he was interested in her. She’d tried to tell herself not to read too much into his attention. After all, he’d turned her down before. Yet she couldn’t help thinking, wishing, that he were a little bit interested. But then he’d left and she’d realized she must have misread everything.

What was it about that man? Why him and why did he get to her the way he did?

She crossed the street and walked to her converted house. The front door opened onto a small foyer with three mailboxes, a table for packages, the doors to the two downstairs apartments and a staircase leading up to her larger apartment. She’d barely taken the first step up when she became aware that, despite the late hour, she was not alone. But before her breath could catch or she could start to panic, she recognized the man sitting halfway up the stairs. Recognized his light brown hair, green eyes and faint smile. When her heart rate picked up again, it had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with anticipation.

“Ronan?”

He stood. “I thought you’d be longer.”

“I didn’t make it past the final first round.”

He waited until she reached his stair, then took her hand in his and led her to her front door. She unlocked it and they both stepped inside her apartment.

She had no idea what she was supposed to say or do. Offer him a beverage? Ask what was wrong? Throw herself at him and beg him to take her? The latter was the most intriguing but she couldn’t help remembering the last time he’d turned her down. He’d been kind and gentle, but it had still been a no.

“So, ah, why are you here?” she asked.

He shoved his hands into his jeans front pockets. “I was waiting for you. I meant what I said before—at my place. I couldn’t do anything while you were my guest. You’re not anymore and I can’t stop thinking about you, about what it was like having you in my house. Your invitation haunts me. I keep reliving our kiss and wanting to do it again. That and more. I want you, Natalie.”

Oh. My. God! No one had ever said anything like that to her before. No one had ever been so blunt, just putting it out there.

Deep inside, she felt a shiver, then another until she was trembling. She felt herself melting before he’d even touched her and wished she had something sophisticated or badass to say in return, but all she could muster was “Me, too.”

Which, it turned out, was enough.

He reached for her, pulling her hard against him. Before she could catch her breath, his mouth claimed hers with a delicious power that left her gasping. His tongue teased hers even as his hands began to roam her body.

Everywhere he touched, she burned. Wanting exploded, shocking her with intensity and need. She’d always been a slow-build kind of girl. The sluttiest thing she’d ever done in her life had been to offer herself to Ronan a few nights ago and look how that had ended. Only now he was kissing her as if he couldn’t possibly get enough.