I shake my face and bat his hand away, and not gently. "Get your hand out of my face, you damn tree."
He just smirks, a cocky little half grin that makes my nipples turn to glass cutters. "You're standin' here lookin' like you're lookin' for something." He shrugs. "Just offering my services. Gallantry ain't entirely dead, you know." He cuts those Kelly green eyes down to mine. "So. You lookin' for something?"
I sigh. "Yeah."
I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration because I just know this isn't going to turn out well, but I promised Emily, so…
"You."
"Me?" He quirks an eyebrow. "Come again?"
"Gotta come first to come again," I quip, the sarcasm splurting out of me unbidden, as is my wont. "And your smile isn't that pretty."
He laughs, and the genuine humor lightens his features, making him that much sexier. "All right, I'll bite. What do you mean, you're lookin' for me?"
"I need a date for a wedding."
He frowns, and even a frown only makes him hotter. "When?"
"Now."
"Now? Like now now?"
I roll my eyes. "No, genius, yesterday now. Tomorrow now. Yes, now. Like right now."
"Um."
"You got a tie with that getup?"
He tugs a slim black tie from his suit coat pocket. "I do."
"You're not marrying me, so don't get your hopes up."
I grab the tie from him, snag his lapels and haul him down to me, looping the tie over his neck. I pop his collar and knot the tie in short order, smoothing his collar down.
I pat his chest. "There ya go, handsome. Come on."
Belatedly, he straightens. "Um..."
I grab his hand and haul him toward the hotel. "Come on, you big weenie. It'll take half an hour. You walk down the aisle, listen to the priest, pose for some photos, and you can back to your life. You wanna stay for the reception, be my guest. Or, rather, Emily and Tom's guest since it's their wedding."
He lets me pull him into a walk, but hauls me to a stop once through the doors. "Wait, wait, wait. Hold up."
I huff, turning to face him. "What? Scared of weddings? Trust me, I won't be catching the bouquet. You've got nothing to worry about."
"No, it's not that."
I give him an impatient look and a shake of my head. "Well then? What? Spit it out, pretty boy."
"Jesus, you've got a mouth on you."
I shoot him a droll look. "Yeah, and under other circumstances I'd show you what else I can do with my mouth besides talk mad shit, but we don't have time. And trust me, that's your loss—I can suck a marble through a drinking straw. Now. If you've got something to say, say it. We gotta get my best friend married so I can get good and trashed."
He blinks down at me, absorbing what I've said. "Marble through a drinking straw? Fuck me."
"As I've said, no time. Maybe after, if you get your shit in gear. I know a good broom closet."
He laughs, scrubbing a paw through his hair, making it messy and so sexy my thong sizzles. "I just want to know your name."
