His Off Limits Best Friend - Vivian Wood Page 0,19

figured you knew that. Considering we met because I went to your office to get the financial mess of it fixed.”

“I know, but… I don’t know, I didn’t know you came to my work right after your engagement ended,” she said.

He shrugged. “Why let tasks wait?”

“So why did it end? If you don’t mind me asking.” Sam had heard some of the details at the office, but wanted to know if there was more to the story than what Connor had said before.

He sighed. “It’s not a very unique story. I thought we were happy enough. I went by her place to surprise her and take her out for lunch, and caught her on her knees with some guy’s cock in her mouth.”

Sam put down the cornbread slathered in butter. “Are you serious?”

“Afraid so,” he said. “And the thing is? She didn’t seem particularly embarrassed or anything. In fact, she tried to turn it around on me. Said that I just wanted some little military housewife or something.”

Sam was shocked. He was cheated on? She couldn’t fathom it. He could have anyone he wanted. “Wow,” she said. “I mean… I guess I get now why you wanted to do the fake engagement.”

Connor cleaned his hands with a wet wipe and leaned back. “So. Why are you doing the fake engagement? What are you going to use the money for, if I can be so bold as to inquire?”

She blushed and reached for the first lie she could muster. “Down payment on a house,” she said.

“That’s really mature,” he said, and looked at her thoughtfully.

Sam turned redder and dug back into the cornbread. She’d never even thought of owning property.

9

Connor

New Rihanna pulsed through the sound system at Kabin Lounge. The girl grinding into his crotch grabbed his hands and placed them dangerously low on her hips. She was hot with her hair styled into perfect beach waves and wicked coffin nails, microbladed brows and eyelash extensions—but for some reason he wasn’t feeling her. Connor couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I’m going for a drink,” he shouted into her ear.

“Bay Breeze!” she said.

“Right,” he said as he exited the dance floor. There’s no way in hell I’m getting this girl a drink.

Connor leaned against the wall by the bar as he waited for the bartender to slide over a scotch on the rocks. His eyes were drawn to the entrance, and he saw Sam enter, flanked by what was clearly a model on one side and a hot couple on the other.

He squinted into the flashing pink lights. Sam was dressed in a white bandage dress that clung desperately tight to her. It glowed in the club’s lights. The couple was made up of a man who was obvious military stock, though he had at least a decade on Connor. The girl had lush, thick red hair to her waist. Although the redhead seemed to be into the scene, the guy she was with had that telltale expression of boredom most men adopted in clubs when they were over the age of thirty. About ten feet behind them, two men in dark suits with clipped haircuts entered.

Connor took his drink, tipped the bartender exorbitantly, and moved farther into the shadows to watch Sam and her crew. Maybe she wasn’t bullshitting about the model thing after all.

Sam placed her hand on the model’s shoulder, threw back her head and laughed. However, when the model touched her waist and reached for her ass, she smoothly stepped away. The couple they’d come with had disappeared, and it was just Sam and her model.

Her date stepped up right against her and buried his head in her hair. She bit her lip and nodded, but when he went to put his arm around her she moved away. What’s her deal?

Finally, he watched Sam say something to the model as she made her way—alone—to the bar. Connor walked briskly to the other end to cut her off and take her by surprise. He walked up behind her. “What would your husband think if he knew you were here?” he asked in her ear.

She jumped and turned around, her eyes big. “Connor!” she said and slapped him. “You scared me.”

“That was the point. Drink?” he asked.

“Whatever you’re having,” she said.

“Expanding your palate,” he said, “I like it.” He gestured to the same bartender for another. “So, who’s your date?”

“You certainly get right to the point, don’t you?” she asked.

“I have a right to know who my wife is fraternizing