Without a word, Gia slid out of the booth. He watched her return to a cluster of women, and as if to illustrate her earlier point, she slung her arms around two of them—Wendy and Jane, clad in matching “I Do Crew” T-shirts. Wendy continued the skirt theme, but not his Jane. Nope, she had on her usual jeans—dark, dressy ones, and a pair of pink flats that matched the shirt. She would say that the shirt was too small for her. He would say that the shirt fit just right. Damn. Gia was a model. She was beautiful, objectively. She was also about six feet tall and built like a beanpole. Jane, on the other hand…you could grab on to Jane.
“Cameron!”
His dirty thoughts were interrupted by the fourth member of Gia’s self-proclaimed sisterhood and his future sister-in-law. Elise slid right up next to him and kissed him on the cheek. “Jay says I have to be nicer to you.”
Jay, sliding in on her other side, said “Lise, give it a rest.”
“What?” She batted her eyes with faux innocence. “You know I always do what you say, Jay.”
Whoa. That last bit was delivered in a sultry tone that made Cam flick his gaze to his brother. If Cam wasn’t mistaken, there was a bit of heat in them as he looked at his bride-to-be. Well, damn. Apparently his mild-mannered accountant brother had a bit of the bad boy in him, too.
His other conclusion: everyone in the world was getting laid except him. Because it wasn’t only the sparks flying between the bridal couple as Jay leaned over and whispered something into Elise’s ear that made her suck in a sharp breath, it was the scene around him. The bachelorettes had dispersed themselves among the bachelors, and the air was charged. He started to slide out of the booth, figuring a trip to the bar to replenish the drink that Gia had stolen would be an excuse to give the lovebirds a little privacy. He’d only just made it to his feet when he heard a quiet voice from behind.
“I want you to make me eggs Benedict tomorrow.”
He jumped about a foot even though the voice was low-pitched so only he could hear it. How had she managed to sneak up on him? He’d barely had his eyes off her since she arrived. And, more importantly: holy fuck, was she propositioning him?
“Jane,” he said, trying to buy some time to get his bearings—and possibly also to get his dick to calm down. He looked at her feet, which was dumb because he already knew her toes were going to be covered by her shoes. “How are you?”
“I am hungry. For eggs Benedict. In the morning.”
Jesus Christ, she was propositioning him. “What happened to pregnancy scares? Ax murderers? What happened to efficiency?”
“Cameron, I’ve just come from a gay club. It was full of hot, shirtless men writhing against each other. The girls have been talking about sex all evening. I’m starting to think you might be onto something with that whole human touch theory of yours.”
“Aha!” He couldn’t help gloating. “You’re horny.” And so was he. She was right; there were pheromones in the air tonight, and that shit was contagious.
“You are correct.”
“You’re also drunk.” And thank God for it. He needed an out, an excuse to do the honorable thing. “I don’t do drunk hookups.”
She tilted her head at him. “Why not?”
“Because there’s this little thing called consent? Give me a little credit, Jane.”
She smiled, a slow, knowing Cheshire cat sort of smile, and lifted a glass that appeared to be full of cola. “I am stone-cold sober, my friend. Which is another reason this party is wearing on me.”
His dick twitched. “Yeah, you don’t realize how stupid drunk people are until you’re the only sober one in a group of them.”
She hitched her head toward the exit. “So let’s get out of here.”
He sighed. “I can’t.”
“You’re turning me down.”
He winced, and though she hadn’t phrased it as a question, he nodded, trying to think how to say some variation on “it’s not you, it’s me,” and not sound like an asshole. “It’s not a good idea, Jane. I can’t be the kind of guy you—”
“It’s just sex, Cameron. That’s all.”
Her declaration gave him pause. Was it possible that he and Jane really could enjoy a fallout-free hookup? Because, damn, he could get into that idea. But no. He thought of Gia all up in his face a little while ago. It was too slippery a slope.
“Are you, who have been talking about nothing but getting laid since you got to town, trying to tell me that I’m not allowed to have meaningless sex?” Jane went on.
“That’s not what I’m saying…” I’m saying I like you too much to have sex with you. I’m saying you deserve someone better. I’m saying I’m not sure it would be just sex, and it’s not just your reaction I’m worried about.
He wished she would interrupt him again, but she did not. She simply stared at him with that single damned eyebrow raised. He started again. “Of course you can have meaningless sex. I just don’t…”
“You don’t want to,” she said, and the hurt that flared momentarily in her eyes might as well have been an inferno engulfing him.
“No!” God, could he dig a bigger hole for himself here? He was trying to protect her from him, but was it possible he was hurting her more by turning her down?
The answer to this late-breaking question was irrelevant though, because the hurt disappeared from her eyes, replaced by steel, as she said, “That’s okay. I’ll find someone who does.”
And eff him if she didn’t then turn on her heel and march up to a group of guys at the bar. And they weren’t even bachelor party guys. No, they were, to use her term, “randoms.”
Ten minutes later, Cam was accosted again, this time by two of Jay’s groomsmen, a fellow accountant named Kent, and Andy, who was Elise’s brother.
“She’s cute, eh?” said Kent, a quiet guy who hadn’t made much of an impression on Cam.
“Who?”
“Jane,” he said, nodding to where Jane was clinking her glass against the beer bottle of some pretty, overgrown frat boy type. “You know, the one you’ve been staring at?”
Andy snickered.
“I haven’t been staring at her,” Cameron said, staring at her. Shit. She leaned in to let Captain America whisper something in her ear, and then she threw her head back with laughter that seemed irritatingly genuine.
“I’m just checking because I’ve been thinking of asking her out,” Kent went on. “Wanted to make sure that you guys weren’t…you know.”
Cam shook his head as Jane put her hand on the Ralph Lauren model’s forearm. For someone who claimed to not date and not hook up, she was pretty good at flirting. He had to make a conscious effort to unlock his jaw to say, “Jane doesn’t date.”
“What do you mean, she doesn’t date? She’s single, isn’t she?” It was true, but even if it wasn’t, this unassuming Kent dude was not the guy for her.
“Yeah, but she’s not in the market for a guy,” Cam said. Except tonight, apparently, she was. Kent, however, did not need to know that.
“I have to say, I’m afraid he’s right,” Andy said to Kent, nodding in Jane’s direction. “I’ve known Jane since she and Elise were freshmen in university. She’s had one boyfriend in all that time. She doesn’t seem interested.”
Cam refrained, but only just, from turning to Kent and saying neener, neener, neener.
“So what is that, then?” Kent asked, nodding as Jane went on her tiptoes to say something into the prepster’s ear that made him drop his drink like a hot potato, grab her hand, and start towing her out of the pub.
“That is…”
…not happening.
Cam was up, propelled across the room by pure unadulterated jealousy that was as shocking as it was strong. He had never been jealous before, not even when he’d walked in on Christie with his replacement, not really. He’d been angry, yes, but more at the loss of the life he’d thought he was coming back to. And even that had rapidly been replaced by resignation.
But right now he could murder both Kent the Accountant and Captain America without blinking. And he’d do it, too, before either of them touched Jane.
Goddammit. If Jane was bound and determined to pick up a guy tonight, he was the least problematic one here. Which was ironic as hell, because the whole point of rejecting her had been to protect her from him. But despite his many faults, Cam appreciated Jane—her quirks, her insecurities, her humor. He knew how to make her loosen up.
He would regret this later, but not as much as he would regret watching her leave with one of the other assholes here.
When he came up behind Jane and Captain America, the dickhead had his hand on her lower back as he propelled her toward the door. Cam reached out and took hold of the guy’s cuff between his thumb and forefinger and lifted his arm away from Jane like it was a bag of stinky garbage. He was wearing a long-sleeved pinstriped button-down, for fuck’s sake. Even if she was only in it for a hookup, this banker-wanker was not the right guy for the job.
“Excuse me?” The dude turned with a kind of amused superiority that drove home Cam’s point.