Temptation on Ocean Drive - Jennifer Probst Page 0,12
before, and it’s a hell of a gig. Hard work, and not many can handle the hours. How long have you had it?”
“Going on my fourth year and making a profit, so it’s all good.” Her stare deepened, and she took a casual step closer. “I’m in town for another two days before I head back home. I’d love to see you again. Grab a coffee. Chat?”
He hesitated. She was close by, had a great career, and seemed like his type.
His ears tuned to the sound of warm laughter. On cue, his gut twisted with longing. Someone had made her laugh. He mourned the fact he hadn’t been the one to do it, and his next words came out instinctively. “I’d love to, but my schedule is jam-packed with events the rest of the week. I’m really sorry.”
She eased back, smile still in place. “I understand. Do you happen to have a card?”
He pulled out his business card from his suit pocket. She plucked a pen from her clutch and scribbled on the back. “Call me if you change your mind. Or if your schedule opens up.” She handed it to him, her fingers curling intimately around his.
He smiled. “Got it.”
He watched her walk away and tucked the card back in place.
Great. Another possible love interest thrown away because of his obsession with Bella.
His heart still yearned to spill all his private secrets. To release all the pent-up emotion he’d been stuffing for the past few years and deal with the fallout. To stare into those gorgeous blue eyes and declare he wanted so much more from her than a casual business-colleague relationship.
Of course, odds were high she’d be shocked and walk away. God knew Bella had never showed him any interest before. The occasional glimpses of sexual attraction were brief and strictly physical. She wasn’t interested in the man he was. Hadn’t he been told his entire life that women fell for him based on his appearance? It wasn’t ego—just fact.
After all, his father had repeated it like a mantra.
He turned to go check on the table, then stopped when he caught Bella’s familiar scent. The light floral teased his nostrils, making him crazed to explore every inch of her skin. Her black pants and turtleneck sweater shouldn’t be so sexy. Of course, the woman owned some killer curves, and those white-blonde tendrils of hair clung to her nape, begging for a man’s lips to press against the sensitive skin. The tall cream boots emphasized the sleek length of her calves. She was the perfect package, yet she was completely unaware of her effect on men. Including him.
She gave him a dazzling smile for the benefit of the guests, contradicting her whispered words. “Uncle Arthur is beginning to get a bit overzealous with his political discussion. We need a distraction.”
“I’m not doing another dance,” he quipped. Humor danced in her blue eyes, and he couldn’t help the rush of pride. He loved making her laugh.
“You’d never be able to duplicate such success. How about a toast? Should I grab the MOB?”
He glanced at the mother-in-law, used to deciphering the acronyms to describe each role, and shook his head. “No, definitely the FOB. He likes to talk.”
“Good idea. I’ll make sure the staff pours everyone a mimosa.”
They split up, and soon the father of the bride was in his element, and all talk of politics had faded from the group.
Too bad they rarely worked together. Other than the benefit of enjoying her company, she was just as good as Avery during an event—sharp eyed, quick to make a decision, and able to smooth over any bumps with an easy smile and calm demeanor.
As the witching hour of one p.m. neared, when Eloise and her prince would be whisked off for their honeymoon, a large woman with bright-red hair in a flashy yellow dress marched toward him. He didn’t recognize her from last night, so she wasn’t within the bride’s or groom’s immediate family tree.
She jabbed a finger in the air at him. “You! You planned this wedding for Eloise, correct?”
Uh-oh. He flashed a grin that hid the sinking feeling in his stomach. He was really not in the mood to hear complaints or fix any big issues when he was twenty-seven minutes away from freedom. “Yes. My name is Gabe, and I work with Sunshine Bridal. I hope you enjoyed everything?”
Her face was quite fascinating—a rather large nose set off sharp, high cheekbones; intense golden-brown eyes; and red-painted lips. Her