The Best Man Read online

  “Noon,” I mimicked his voice snidely under my breath. Ugh. How in the hell was I going to pull this off?

  I went straight to my room and lowered my shades. It was time to get serious, and Andy didn’t need to look across the yard to see me planning as he assumed I would be. I paced back and forth a few times before stopping in front of my full-length mirror. I looked like a little girl, dressed in Andy’s loose clothing. I frowned at my reflection and tried to think.

  In fewer hours than I was comfortable with, I would have to play basketball with a bunch of tall, sweaty, beer-drinking men. If I remembered correctly, every one of them was at least six foot tall and athletic. Well...maybe Dan wasn’t as tall. Still, it would be very hard for me to keep up with them and manage not to be a drag while playing a sport in which my small frame was going to be a problem. Any team saddled with me would automatically be at a disadvantage. Damn that Samuel for being so devious.

  I tugged my lip between my teeth and stared hard ahead of me. Their advantages? Height. And power. What did I have to my advantage? What did I have to offer that they did not?

  I turned to the side and pulled Andy’s sweatshirt up my body so I could see my tiny tattoo. I grinned. Luck was on my side. Critically, I stared at the exposed skin and tried to imagine myself through Samuel’s eyes. While living in Florida didn’t give me a deep, tropical tan, I did cultivate a light-golden skin tone that was healthy and attractive when compared to the pasty-white complexion I managed while living at home in Astoria. And running as often as I did had conditioned my profile to be slender and firm. Samuel hadn’t been treated to an embarrassing amount of pudge at my waistline. My body looked pretty damned good.

  It was then that inspiration struck. I had a whole arsenal of weapons at my disposal. Grabbing Dad’s truck keys, I picked up my purse and headed out the door. If I’d had enough time, I might have considered training to get ready for this type of sporting event. That just wasn’t possible. Instead, I would borrow from Samuel’s stereotypical assumptions of how women operated. I would go shopping.

  Just before noon, I sat on the edge of my bed and bent at the waist to tighten the laces of my tennis shoes. And while in the almost reverent position, I said a quick prayer to any deity within hearing distance to help me not trip over my own feet while trying to play basketball with the guys. My entire game plan would be blown if I ended up knocking them down like a stack of dominoes on the playground asphalt.

  A quick glance in the mirror almost made me want to slap myself and call the whole thing off. Almost. The men would be using their physical attributes to do well today. Why couldn’t I do the same?

  I had carefully curled my hair before pulling it back into a high ponytail. The artificial curls added to my own waves to give it a little more bounce. And while mascara and lip gloss could hardly be considered cosmetic overload, it was more than I would usually wear while playing a sport. The men would be relying on their height and brawn to play this game. I had speed on my side...and hopefully, a healthy dose of distraction to offer. Samuel was smart in his planning. The men I would soon join liked basketball. And beer. But they also liked women. I didn’t have to win the game. I just had to prove that I was fun to be around. I gave myself this last-minute pep talk and then turned from my room before I could change my mind.

  When I jogged up to the basketball court, my nerves gave way to immediate irritation. Samuel already stood on the free throw line, taking shots at the hoop. The not-so-subtle reminder of his small-town glory days on the high school team made me grit my teeth.

  “What’s up with the early practice?” I grumbled.

  “Just goofing around, passing the time,” Samuel shrugged and smiled over at me. The look in his eyes clearly stated he understood I was on to him, and he was amused. Unfortunately, our judges pulled into the gravel parking space next to the basketball court before I could suggest that Samuel “pass the time” by shoving the basketball right up his...

  “Emmy?” The surprised tone of one of the men who exited the car made me spin on my heels. Dan Warner. His face was familiar, though his tone was friendlier than I ever remembered him being in high school.

  “Dan? Hi. Nice to see you guys.” I waved at the other two men who walked a half step behind their friend. I recognized Zack immediately. He smiled awkwardly. The taller, dark-haired man caught my attention, and I looked at him quizzically.

  “Nick.” He gave me his name while leaning forward to offer his hand. I shook it.

  “Formerly known as Nicholas Smith.” Andy tried to jog my memory.

  “Nicholas Smith?” I asked. Hello, Gorgeous! His sky-blue eyes sparkled from under a curtain of long, side-swept black bangs.

  “Umm...It’s just Nick, now.”

  “Nick was in my band class,” Andy explained. “Drummer?”

  “Acne...buzz cut?” Nick went on to describe himself with a self-deprecating laugh.

  “I’m sorry. I guess you’ve changed a lot. I wouldn’t have recognized you.” I smiled up at him. Oh boy, had he ever.

  “My parents moved here just before our senior year,” Nick shrugged. “I was pretty shy. I don’t think we ever formally met.”

  Samuel cleared his throat loudly behind us, and Andy began making introductions. Just as I thought, all three men remembered Samuel for the accolades that lined the hall outside the high school gymnasium and launched into a conversation about their time playing for the high school team. I walked over to the cooler and popped open a beer. I needed something to steady my nerves and get my head in the game.

  “Emelia?” I turned my head to see Samuel motioning me over to the group. I took another deep drink and put my bottle down on the bench before plastering a grin to my face and skipping back to the men.

  “We are going to play three-on-three, half-court,” Andy explained. “You and Samuel can be the captains. Why don’t you pick someone for your team first?”

  “I choose Andy,” I said quickly. My best friend grinned and moved to stand next to me. He was not the most athletic on the asphalt, but he was the tallest man out there, and he’d played against Samuel too many times to count. He knew how to beat his brother on the court.

  “Zack.” Samuel pointed. Zack had been captain of the basketball team in high school. I could have guessed Samuel would choose him.

  “Nick.” I tried not to smile too widely while I said his name. He was also at least six feet tall, and the way he looked at me made me want to blush.

  “Okay, Dan, you round it out,” Samuel said pleasantly. Dan wasn’t as tall as the other men, but he still towered over me. At least the teams were divided somewhat fairly. I turned to walk toward the bench but stopped when Samuel called over to me.

  “Shirts or skins?”

  “Excuse me?” I turned and put my hands on my hips. I wasn’t sure if I heard him correctly. Samuel twisted a devastatingly mischievous smile in my direction.

  “Shirts...or skins?” He repeated the question slowly, and I frowned over at him. He was already trying to point out my differences on the court.

  “Shirts.” I flipped my ponytail and pretended he wasn’t getting me flustered. I jogged over to Nick and Andy, who were removing their jackets and getting ready to play.

  “Don’t let him psych you out,” Andy encouraged me. “He’s trying to mess with your head.” I gritted my teeth before donning a careless expression. Turning to send Samuel a look that would let him know his little games weren’t working, I stopped and had to force my mouth to close. Samuel, Zack, and Dan were peeling their shirts up and over their heads. My gaze locked on Samuel’s long, taut obliques which stretched down to his narrow waist while his arms were over his head. He dropped his shirt to the ground while chatting with his teammates. I swallowed hard while he pulled his shorts away from his flat stomach and tightened the drawstring.

  Damn. Now I was thinking about apple pie. Samuel was already messing with my head, and he wasn’t even trying. My momentary distraction caused me t
o turn with a stronger resolve. I quickly removed my running pants and discarded my own zippered jacket. Andy snickered and took a drink when he saw my clothing. Nick eyed me appreciatively with a soft smile in place. I looked up from under my lashes and smiled at him.

  “I sure hope I don’t slow you boys down too much.”

  “It’s only a game, right?” Nick said sweetly. “Let’s just have fun with it.”

  I smiled again to show him I appreciated his attitude and then moved to join the other men on the court. I tried to pretend not to notice the attention my clothing was garnering from Zack and Dan. My shorts were small and pink. And my white tank could hardly be considered more than a sports bra. Samuel turned mid-drink, saw me, and beer sprayed loudly from his mouth in his surprise. I controlled my expression to look innocent.

  “What in the hell is that?” Samuel wiped his chin with the hand that still held his beer, pointing an accusing finger at my chest.

  “They’re called boobs, Samuel.” Andy grinned. “And she started to get them when she was fourteen. Nice, huh?”

  I smirked to see our judges nodding at each other. Andy laughed, and Samuel scowled.

  “I wasn’t talking about her...uh...um...” Samuel’s hands waved in front of me like he was trying to erase the image from his sight. I grinned and looked down to inspect the area that had him so flustered.

  A quick trip to the craft store had led me to purchase bright pink, sparkly, iron-on letters. The words “Best Man” were proudly stretched across the thin cotton on my chest. I gave the words a sneaky little bounce by clasping my hands low in front of me and pulling my arms toward one another.

  “I thought it was cute...” I pretended to pout. All three judges hurried to reassure me that I was right. I tried not to smile at Samuel’s fierce look of disapproval.

  “Are you ready to play?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  “Are you?” I asked softly. He looked into my eyes and contemplated me in silence for a moment. I could see a look of determination there that matched my own.

  Good. We understood each other.

  I did my best to keep my mind focused on the game and not on Samuel’s abs as we all started playing. After a short while, it wasn’t an issue. I had to work hard to play basketball with the guys. Amazingly enough, I managed to help my team instead of hindering it. I was small and fast. Andy and Nick passed me the ball often, so I could sneak it into the fray and pass it to them when they got closer to the hoop. It was a strategy that served us well and kept us neck and neck with Samuel’s team in points. We were all sweating and cussing and laughing. I had to hand it to Samuel. The basketball game was lots of fun.

  “Last point wins,” Zack called out, spinning the nubby orange ball on the end of his index finger. He looked smug from having made the last shot to tie things up for their team.

  “Get the ball down the key,” Andy said, forming a huddle with Nick and me. “We’ll set ourselves up for a shot. All you have to do is get the ball to one of us.”

  “I can do that.” I nodded. Nick grinned at me. It was the move we had employed throughout the game so far, with much success.

  Nick stood on the grass and tossed the ball to me. I began dribbling the ball in, staying low to the ground. I hesitated when I saw Dan was covering Nick completely, and Samuel and Zack were both covering Andy. I feinted left, then right, pivoting while trying to lure someone away from their blocking to give me an opening to pass. I caught Nick’s eye then and saw him tilt his chin upward...his eyes flashing toward the basketball net. “Take the shot,” he mouthed over Dan’s shoulder.

  I licked my lips and stepped a little closer. If I missed the shot, one of Samuel’s teammates would likely get the rebound, putting them in position to win. My eyes darted over to Andy. He was twisting and trying to move away from the cover of Samuel and Zack. Biting my lip, I took another step and moved my arms into position to shoot the ball.

  My arms were over my head, and my toes had just left the ground in my jump when a blur of a figure tore across my line of sight. Samuel noticed I was going to take the shot and had leaped up and over me to block my efforts. Our bodies crashed in midair. I twisted under the impact and fell hard on the ground, scraping my knee into the rough surface below me.

  “Ow...Shit!” I yelled out. Immediately, I turned to sit on my bottom while I surveyed the damage to my knee. Small black rocks were stuck into a large scratch, and blood was already pooling to the surface. The game had stopped completely, and the sun was blocked by the large shapes of the men who stood in a circle around where I sat.

  I felt embarrassed tears spring to my eyes that had nothing to do with the blood that was starting to trickle down my calf. I picked the rocks from my skin and watched as blood dripped down my leg. It was what I had feared. Now I looked weak in front of the guys.

  “Emelia, honey...I’m so sorry. Here, let me help you up.” Samuel had his hands toward me. I frowned and stood without his assistance. I tried to keep my voice from wavering, but I failed.

  “I’m fine. You guys...should finish without me. I’m just going to go down to the house to get cleaned up.”

  “Would you like a ride?” Dan offered to drive me, and I smiled.

  “I live two houses down. I can make it. Thanks.”

  I started to hobble off the basketball court with as much dignity as I could muster.

  I could hear the men talking quietly behind me.

  “Wait up!” Samuel was calling my name, but I ignored him. “Come on! At least let me apologize.”

  “Piss off, Dalton,” I growled over my shoulder.

  “Emelia...I’m sorry!”

  I felt tears sting my eyes. I was embarrassed more than I was hurt. His following me and calling out apologies was probably just to make himself look good to the men judging us. Once in my house, I gingerly made my way up the stairs to the bathroom. I could hear that Samuel was still following me.

  “Go away!” I hissed.

  “No. Let me see.”

  I turned to face him once I got into the bathroom. Samuel stood there, gloriously disheveled, sweaty, and half naked. Suddenly, the small room seemed impossibly tinier.

  “It’s bleeding.” I glared. It wasn’t a mortal injury, but I hoped to at least make him feel bad for it. My stony gaze lost its effect, however, when my eyes seemed unable to look away from his bare chest. If he noticed where my attention had shifted, he hid it well. Samuel was running water over a washcloth in the sink. “Sit on the edge of the tub,” he instructed. “Let me help you.”

  “You’ve done enough,” I grumbled.

  “Stop arguing.” Samuel put his hands on my hips and turned me while pushing me down to sit exactly as he directed.

  “You don’t have to manhandle me,” I pouted.

  “You weren’t listening,” Samuel rebutted. “Now just stay still. I think I remember where everything is...”

  I folded my arms across my chest and muttered under my breath about stupid, pushy ambulance chasers. Samuel turned with a smirk on his lips and his hands full of first-aid supplies. He dropped the items on the floor next to my shoes while he lowered himself to his knees in front of me.

  “I’m barely out of law school, and I’m already getting called dirty lawyer names.”

  I turned my head and studied the wall, trying to ignore the fact that his head was bowed close enough for me to reach out and push my fingers through that messy hair of his. I flinched a little when I felt him press the warm cloth to my knee, cleaning the area.

  “I don’t know any others,” I confessed. “Rude names for lawyers, I mean.”

  “I’m sure you’d use them if you could,” Samuel chuckled while wiping the blood away from my leg. “You know, the last time you and I were in this situation, you sat up on the sink. I didn’t have to bend over so far to clean you up.”

  “I was smaller then,” I whispered.

  “Yeah, I know. You’ve, uh...changed a lot.” Samuel cleared his throat and shoo
k his head slightly before looking back down at the abrasion.

  He referred to a time when I was nine years old, and I had fallen while roller-skating on the sidewalk in front of our homes. Samuel saw the accident and helped me up. I was crying like a baby when he lifted me to sit on the edge of the sink and bandaged my knee.

  “You told me I was your hero,” Samuel said in a husky voice. I opened my mouth to point out how silly I was as a girl, but then I hissed instead when I felt the sting of the antiseptic spray he applied to my torn skin.

  “Shit.”

  “Sorry,” Samuel murmured. And just as he had when I was nine years old, Samuel moved his face closer to my leg. My fingers dug into the side of the tub painfully when Samuel pursed his lips and blew his breath across the pooled disinfectant to cool my skin as it dried.

  I could only swallow hard and mentally curse my body for overreacting to such an innocent gesture. Despite the physical changes we had both undergone since seeing each other last, Samuel was treating me the same as he always had. There was no reason for my heart to be pounding so rapidly in my chest. In a second, I felt his hands smoothing a bandage over my knee.

  “There...all done,” he spoke, looking up at me. His face was so close. His eyes glinted darkly in the bathroom light.

  “You cheated,” I breathed. What was wrong with my voice?

  Samuel raised his hand and traced the strap of my tank with the back of his fingers. My skin burned where he touched me, causing an involuntary shiver to race up my spine. His eyebrows lowered, and a confused expression pulled across his features as his gaze moved to where his knuckles brushed against my bare shoulder. After a moment, his eyes darted back to meet mine.

  “You were playing dirty too. And you know it.”

  Our eyes warred. Neither of us was willing to back down.

  “What’s the damage?” Andy’s loud voice from the hall caused us both to startle guiltily. “Does Emmy need stitches?”

  Samuel stood and opened the door quickly. “Hell no. It’s barely a scratch.”

  Samuel dismissed the injury and took his T-shirt from his brother’s hands. He pulled it over his head and stepped into the hall while Andy moved into the bathroom with me.