How to Ruin a Wedding(44)

“This is bringing the vibe down,” Valerie says. “We need more drinks.”

“I’ll get this round,” I offer, trying to wiggle out of the booth, but Anders is in the corner seat, and I need him to move, or I’ll have to shove my ass in his face to get out.

When I see his mischievous smirk, I shove him. “Get up,” I say, the words caught in a laugh.

He moves out, takes my hand, and helps me up. “I’ll go with you.”

I place my hands on his shoulder and shove him back down. “I’m a big girl,” I say, and he grabs my arm, pulling me toward him.

“Take my card,” he says, and though half of me thinks the sound and feel of his words on the skin beneath my ear is more pleasurable than humanly possible, it’s a little embarrassing he thinks I can’t cover one round of shots.

I can’t, but still. That’s what credit cards are for—future me problems.

“I can handle it.” I tap his cheek gently and head to the bar.

There’s no real line anywhere, just pockets of people all trying to flag down the bartenders. After scanning the crowd, I set my sights on a man with cropped hair and a shirt nearly bursting at the seams around his biceps. I pull my white top lower, so my breasts—aided by my very best push up—nearly spill out.

This maneuver gets several men to offer me their spots, so it takes mere seconds for me to reach the sticky bar, and even less for my target bartender to ignore his other patrons and come to me.

“What can I get you, beautiful?” he says in a drawl.

“Three double shots of whiskey.” I lean in, pressing my breasts together, fluttering my eyelashes.

“Keep looking at me like that, darling, and I couldn’t possibly charge ya.”

“Yeah.” I reach over and run my nail up his arm. “Prove it.”

He holds a hand over his heart before moving along, making my shots like a good, easy man.

Life is hard, but taking advantage of horny men is always easy.

He gives me a performance as he pours my shots, then places them across from me. “What’s your name?” he asks, his gaze trained on my chest.

“Lucy.”

“Lucy,” he repeats, “and what’s your number?”

I gather the drinks close to my chest. “You’ll learn that when I get my second round.” I wink at him and turn, nearly spilling all the drinks on my chest when I bump into Anders.

Before I have the chance to feel embarrassed by being caught in the act, he reaches to help hold the cups. “That,” he says, “was—”

“Manipulative?” I offer.

“—magical,” he counters, “and for some reason”—his hand lingers over mine as he takes the remaining drinks—“incredibly sexy.”

It’s not that I disagree—I know it was; it’s why I got the free drinks. But in this moment, I know with full certainty that Anders is attracted to me. More than a general appreciation of acknowledging someone is just conventionally good looking.

But witnessing me charm another man, hike up my breasts, and flirt my way to a deal has made him look at me like he wants to devour me. And God, do I want to let him.

Which is exactly why I chose not to drink. I’m going to be clear headed. Focused on Valerie, my actual job, and not what sex-hungry Lucy wants. Though it pains me to, I move away from Anders and give him a friendly shove.

“Well, hope you enjoyed the show,” I say as we weave through couples and rowdy groups. “Now that he sees me with you, he’s not going to offer me another round.”

“Do exactly what you did to him to me,” he says as we reach the table, “I’ll give you my bank account information.”

I laugh so hard it shakes me, and I smack his arm enough some of the drinks spill before he can place them on the table, and we take our spots again.

“What’s so funny?” Valerie asks as we rejoin. “I like to laugh.”

“Lucinda charmed the bartender.”

“Scammed,” I say, though I appreciate the fluffed words. “I could have got several more rounds if somebody hadn’t shown up.”

Anders grabs my hand, presses a kiss at the center of it. “My deepest apologies.”

It is so teenage-like, this night, the way Anders is pulling giggles from me every other minute. The way my cheeks are forcing themselves to keep from smiling. The way I keep catching him watching me, smiling too.

“Gross,” Valerie says, “and cute.” She scans the space behind us, so I turn to find where she’s looking. “No more free drinks from that guy, but look for the redheaded woman. She owns the place and always gives me drinks on the house.” As though the woman hears herself being talked about, she catches our gazes and waves. “I’ll tell her to look out for you.”

“Noted.”

Anders wraps an arm around me, pulling me as close as possible beside him. Though I know he’s playing it up for our lie, I can’t help but notice the inches of distance between John and Valerie. I’m struggling to see the connection, the romance, and I can’t tell if I’m biased by Anders’s wish for them not to be together, or if there’s something off about them in general.

“What’s next for wedding planning?” I ask Valerie, knowing changing subjects is better in the long run. I don’t want to make it obvious I’m prying. “Anything I can help with?”