Until You

Tyler Norris…This is the last place I ever expected to see you.” The blonde was eyeing him like he was the last margarita on ladies’ night at La Fuente Bar and Grill.

Tyler leaned back in his patio chair and sipped his beer, hiding his annoyance with a smirk. This was the fourth woman to approach him tonight, and while he was used to women hitting on him, this seemed to be a bit much given that he was a single man at a couple’s wedding shower.

“How’d you get roped into it?” she asked, her right hand on her hip.

Theresa Fink. He hadn’t seen her since high school, but the look in her eyes told him she was very happy to see him. She lifted the wineglass in her left hand, spotlighting her bare left ring finger, even going so far as to slightly wiggle it to catch his attention.

She continued studying him with lust-filled eyes, apparently expecting an answer. He finally shrugged his nonchalance. “Turns out being groomsman means the bride can strong-arm you into anything she wants.” That wasn’t entirely true—he had a soft spot when it came to Brittany—but no need to tell Theresa that.

Her eyes lit up. “Maybe she can spill some of her secrets. Your legend precedes you, Tyler Norris.”

Chuckling, he took a drag of his beer. “And which legend is that? I hear there are many.” He winked. “And the ones about my size and endurance are all true.”

Theresa flushed, pressing her hand against her chest and fluttering her eyelashes.

Jesus. Why did he tell her that? Old habits were still hard to break, but now she looked like a barracuda ready to gnaw off his leg. Or more specifically, another body part in very close proximity.

“Tyler,” a deep voice said behind him. “Holly needs your help with the ice.”

Tyler tried not to look relieved when he jumped to his feet and turned to face Kevin Vandemeer. “Yeah. Be more than happy to.”

Disappointment washed over Theresa’s face, but he ignored her as she called after him, “Want to get drinks later?”

Tyler walked through the suburban backyard, feeling like he was about to break out into hives just being here, let alone sitting outside in the hot and humid Missouri August evening for the last hour. He tugged at his collar, regretting his decision to wear a tie.

“Thanks for the save,” he said as he followed Kevin to the back deck, then stopped to grab another beer from a bucket of ice water.

“The save comes at a price,” Kevin said with a chuckle. “You’re refilling the drink tubs with ice.”

“Me?” Tyler asked, standing upright and turning to face his friend. “Shouldn’t that be your job since your wife is in charge of the party?”

Kevin’s wife. Damn, that was hard to spit out. Not that he had anything against Holly, he actually liked her, and if Tyler was honest, she was a good fit for his friend. But of his two best friends, Kevin had been more like Tyler when it came to women. Lots of girlfriends that never lasted. So when Kevin had moved back home two months ago after his last tour in Afghanistan, the three friends had commiserated on their extremely unlucky love life and decided to give up on marriage, imposing a ban on women and forming the Bachelor Brotherhood.

Kevin Vandemeer had lasted one fucking day.

“My wife,” Kevin said in a warning tone, “was the one to suggest I save your ass, you dickweed. So get out to the garage and grab a couple of bags of ice out of the freezer or I’ll tell Theresa Fink that you want to leave the shower and go out for a candlelight dinner. Just the two of you.”

“You suck, Vandemeer,” Tyler grumbled.

Kevin’s answer was a shit-eating grin.

Tyler would have loved to kick his friend’s ass right then and there, but Brittany would have killed him. And while he considered doing it anyway, instead he went into the dark garage, deciding this wasn’t such a heinous task after all. It had to be ten degrees cooler in the two-car garage, and he was alone. Maybe he could hide in here for ten minutes or so, then tell Britt a work emergency had come up and he needed to go.

She’d see right through it and call his assistant to verify. And since her fiancé worked at his law firm, she definitely had the number.

Shit. He was stuck.

Tyler had been at Randy’s house enough times to know the garage refrigerator was stocked with beer, some of which were Randy’s precious import beers. Tyler opened the door and grinned. Jackpot. He grabbed a Stella and popped off the top using the opener attached to the wall, then took a long drag, letting the cold beer coat his dry mouth.

“I see you found Randy’s stash,” a woman said in the darkness.

Caught off guard, he choked, spitting beer down his shirt. He spun around and found her sitting on Randy’s workbench with her own bottle. Unlike every other guest at the shower, with the exception of him, she was still dressed in business attire—a sleeveless, light gray dress that ended just above her knees. Her legs were crossed, and she bounced one black, three-inch pump as she watched him, lowering the bottle from her mouth. She wore her long, dark hair down, and he couldn’t help but notice the strands that lay over her shoulder, brushing the tops of her breasts. He forced his gaze to rise to her face.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, her dark eyes dancing with amusement.

She was gorgeous, and damned if he wasn’t intrigued. “I didn’t see you over there.”

She grinned. “Obviously.”

He moved toward her, unable to stop himself. “Looks like we both have the same idea.”

She laughed. “If your idea is hiding from Brittany and drinking Randy’s import beer, then we do.”

He gestured to the empty spot on the workbench next to her, and she lifted her shoulder into a half-shrug invitation. Tyler hopped up on the bench and perched next to her, leaving a few inches between them. “So what’s a nice girl like you doing in a musty garage like this?”

She laughed again, uncrossing her long legs and turning toward him, her eyes full of mischief. “I bet you use that line on all the girls.”

“Only the ones I find in musty garages.” Up close like this, he could see that her dark eyes were a milk chocolate brown and framed by long, sexy eyelashes. She lifted her beer and took a sip, and he suddenly found himself jealous of the bottle in her hand.

“I know why you’re hiding,” she said as she set the beer next to her on the bench.

He smirked. “Okay, tell me why I’m hiding.”

“Brittany. She’s playing matchmaker again.” His eyes widened and she gave him a knowing smile. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out. For the last hour, she’s been sending women to you like they’re going through the turnstile at a ride in Disneyland, and you keep sending them away.” She flicked her fingers to demonstrate.

He lifted his eyebrows as he studied her face, then teased, “You’ve been watching me? I haven’t seen you before now.”

She cocked her head to the side, rolling her eyes. “Amateur. I’ve spent most of my time hiding. You obviously haven’t known Brittany for long.”

“About a year.” While they’d gone to high school together, they hadn’t been friends. He’d gotten to know her through Randy.

She laughed again. “I have about thirty years on you.”

Thirty years? Had she gone to school with them?

She gestured to his beer. “Since you have exceptional taste in beer and hiding spots, I’ll be generous and give you a few pointers.”

“Should I be taking notes?” he teased. While she was flirty, she wasn’t coming on to him, and it only intrigued him more.

She shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt, but I suspect we’ll be seeing each other again in a month, so I can give you a refresher course at the wedding.”

Finally. Something to actually look forward to at the wedding.

“First,” she said in a conspiratorial tone,“Britt comes across as this sweet and unassuming woman, but don’t let that fool you.”

“No?”

“No,” she said, pointing her finger at him. “She uses her charm to get you to do what she wants.” She stabbed his chest to make her point. “Look at poor Randy.”

Tyler was loyal to the people who stood by him, and he was about to defend Britt until he saw she was teasing. There was no doubt that Randy had been ensnared by Brittany, but it was just as obvious the adoration went both ways.

“You have to be firm.” She brought her hand down sideways onto her open palm, like a karate chop. “If you show the slightest sign of waffling, she’ll pounce.”

“So,” he said slowly, “you’re saying I haven’t been firm enough? That I can’t hold my own?” He gave her an arrogant grin. “Because I have a nickname that disputes that.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, her face lighting up in mock surprise. “Are we talking about cute nicknames that your guy friends have given you? Like The Terminator? Or Maverick?”

He shook his head and laughed, trying to think of the last time he’d enjoyed a woman’s company so much. “Sounds like somebody’s been binge-watching eighties movies on Netflix.”

“Busted.” She laughed, leaning her head to the side and exposing her long neck.

A wave of lust washed through him, and he struggled to control it. It was obvious she wasn’t an easy conquest. Oddly enough, he considered playing the long game with her.

What the fuck was wrong with him? He wasn’t supposed to be playing the game at all.

She shook her head, her grin tugging at the corners of her full lips. “So what’s this awesome nickname of yours? I take it my suggestions came from the wrong decade.”

He gave her a long look, now reluctant to share. “The Closer.”

Her eyes widened in amusement. “Because you’re so good with the ladies?” She waggled her eyebrows.

He laughed, feeling like an idiot. “And because I can close a case before it goes to trial.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” She hopped off the bench and wobbled a little on her heels, cluing him in that she’d had more than the one beer tonight. “Well, Mr. Closer, Brittany Stewart is much more subtle than that.” She pushed his legs open and stood between them, grabbing a handful of his tie and pulling his face inches from hers. “She sees you as a challenge. She thinks everyone in the whole wide world needs to be in love, and she won’t rest until it happens. And you are the perfect challenge.” She dropped his tie and spread her hands out. “Big bad womanizer who can’t bring himself to let his guard down and let a woman in, much less love her. Why Britt just can’t resist.” She laughed and grabbed his tie again, slowly leaning closer. “The more you resist her efforts, the more determined she becomes.”

Her breath fanned his face, and it took everything within him to keep his hands to himself, because instinct told him that if he made a move, she’d give him a brush-off so epic, an 8.0 earthquake would pale in comparison.

And he definitely did not want her to give him a brush-off.

“And how do you know all this?” he asked, proud that he sounded so in control.

Her lips hovered inches over his, and she whispered, “I’ve been her number one project for the last ten years. Lucky for me, it looks like I’ve just been usurped.” She dropped her hold on his tie, then smoothed it down his chest, her fingertips trailing to his abdomen in small sweeps.

A fresh jolt of lust rushed through his blood, and he gripped the sides of the bench, hoping she didn’t see how much she affected him when her eyes lifted to his.

“So why didn’t she try to fix me up with you?” he asked, his voice husky despite his intentions.

Her smile became sardonic. “Because she’s figured out that I’m a lost cause.” Then she turned and walked back into the kitchen, her tight dress perfectly hugging her rounded ass.

As he took the last drag of his beer and tossed the bottle into the recycling bin, he realized that never in his thirty-three years had he been so turned on by a woman.

And he didn’t even know her name.