I Wish You Were Mine
Page 82
“Oh, you still have to wear a tux,” Cassidy said. “Those who aren’t best man are groomsmen.”
“Shit,” Jake breathed. “Fine, but no boutonniere.”
Cassidy leaned down toward Mollie. “Make sure to mention to Emma that I want boutonnieres for all the men, would you? Pink, something lavish.”
Jake ignored this and turned his attention toward the table. “Lincoln, what in the hell are you doing? Just flick the damn thing already.”
“Seriously,” Jackson muttered. “My hands are getting tired.”
“Sucks for you, Molls. The man has cramping hands,” Jake said.
“Not too cramped to do this,” Jackson said, lifting his middle finger at Jake with a grin before resuming the field goal position. “Mathis, for God’s sake, end this.”
“If Lincoln makes this, he wins,” Cassidy explained. “Although I’m thinking I should have set a time limit.”
“My chi has to be in the right place!” Lincoln called without looking back. “Also, hi, Mollie.”
“Hey! How’d you know I was here?”
“I’m in tune with female pheromones. I knew the second you walked in the building, love.”
“Christ. Just do it already,” Jackson growled.
Lincoln flicked the paper football. It sailed directly between Jackson’s hands, hitting him square in the tie.
Lincoln erupted from the table, hands held victoriously in the air as though he’d just won the Super Bowl.
Jackson cursed softly, but Mollie saw he was grinning as Lincoln burst into Queen’s “We Are the Champions.”
Mollie was shoved gently to the side as Lincoln came barreling at Cassidy, wrapping his arms around the other man’s shoulders in a comical, one-sided man hug.
“From here on out, just call me BM,” Lincoln said, resting his head on Cassidy’s shoulder and batting his eyelashes.
“Bowel movement?” Cole said in sham confusion.
“Best man,” Lincoln corrected haughtily.
“All right,” Cassidy muttered, trying to fend off Lincoln’s man hug. “That’s enough.”
Lincoln didn’t move. “I’m honored,” Lincoln said, his voice solemn for once. “Seriously.”
“Yeah, okay,” Cassidy said, giving Lincoln’s arm an awkward pat. “Thanks for doing this.”
Lincoln still didn’t release him. “Say it. ‘Thanks, BM.’ ”
“Okay, get off,” Cassidy said with a laugh as he shoved Lincoln away.
Still grinning, Lincoln held his arms out to the side. “Burke, is this what it felt like when you won the Super Bowl? All of them?”
“Yeah. Just like this,” Jackson said, adjusting his tie.
Lincoln’s blue gaze zeroed in on Mollie, seeing her for the first time. “There you are, love. I haven’t greeted you properly yet.”
“You greeted her fine,” Jackson said. “No touching!”
Lincoln ignored this, reaching for Mollie’s hand and lifting it so he could kiss the back of it. “I know I’ve said this a million times, but if I’d met you first, you’d be so in love with me.”
Mollie laughed and leaned toward him, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I’m on to you, Lincoln Mathis. You may have this city wrapped around your finger, but I know your secret. I don’t think you want anyone to fall in love with you. I think you’re terrified.”
Mollie meant what she said, but she’d also been teasing. So she was surprised when something sharp flashed in Lincoln’s blue eyes as he released her. “Keep my secret?” he said with a wink.
She rolled her eyes, thinking she must have imagined whatever she saw there, but he gently touched her arm as she moved past him to get to Jackson through the throng of guys she didn’t recognize. “Seriously,” he said quietly. “Keep my secret?”
Mollie blinked in surprise. “Yeah. Okay.”
He nodded in thanks just as Jackson came up and smacked his hand off her arm. “No touching my girl.”
“Fair enough.” Lincoln walked away, but not before he smacked Jackson’s ass.
“What the fuck, dude?”
“I’m trying to speak football,” Lincoln said.
“We do that on the field, not in an office!”
Mollie grabbed Jackson’s arm, dragging him away from the group and toward his office, but not before she gave a thoughtful glance at Lincoln. Something was up with that guy. She wondered if anyone knew what.
Jackson slung an arm over her shoulder, bringing her in for a quick kiss, and she forgot all about Lincoln. She had all the man she needed right here.
“Tell me you’re here for a little afternoon delight,” he said as they entered his office.
“Not quite,” she said. “I wanted to show you something.”
“Is it under your shirt?” he said hopefully.
Mollie gave him a look as she pulled a thick ivory-colored envelope out of her purse and handed it to him. “I finished up work early today. Stopped home and found this in the mail.”
Mollie had already opened the envelope flap, so Jackson reached in and pulled out the stack of thick card-stock paper.
“A wedding invitation?” he said in a puzzled voice.
An RSVP card fluttered to the floor, but they both ignored it as Jackson read the name of the bride. Then his hazel eyes flicked to hers. “Is this a joke?”
“Shit,” Jake breathed. “Fine, but no boutonniere.”
Cassidy leaned down toward Mollie. “Make sure to mention to Emma that I want boutonnieres for all the men, would you? Pink, something lavish.”
Jake ignored this and turned his attention toward the table. “Lincoln, what in the hell are you doing? Just flick the damn thing already.”
“Seriously,” Jackson muttered. “My hands are getting tired.”
“Sucks for you, Molls. The man has cramping hands,” Jake said.
“Not too cramped to do this,” Jackson said, lifting his middle finger at Jake with a grin before resuming the field goal position. “Mathis, for God’s sake, end this.”
“If Lincoln makes this, he wins,” Cassidy explained. “Although I’m thinking I should have set a time limit.”
“My chi has to be in the right place!” Lincoln called without looking back. “Also, hi, Mollie.”
“Hey! How’d you know I was here?”
“I’m in tune with female pheromones. I knew the second you walked in the building, love.”
“Christ. Just do it already,” Jackson growled.
Lincoln flicked the paper football. It sailed directly between Jackson’s hands, hitting him square in the tie.
Lincoln erupted from the table, hands held victoriously in the air as though he’d just won the Super Bowl.
Jackson cursed softly, but Mollie saw he was grinning as Lincoln burst into Queen’s “We Are the Champions.”
Mollie was shoved gently to the side as Lincoln came barreling at Cassidy, wrapping his arms around the other man’s shoulders in a comical, one-sided man hug.
“From here on out, just call me BM,” Lincoln said, resting his head on Cassidy’s shoulder and batting his eyelashes.
“Bowel movement?” Cole said in sham confusion.
“Best man,” Lincoln corrected haughtily.
“All right,” Cassidy muttered, trying to fend off Lincoln’s man hug. “That’s enough.”
Lincoln didn’t move. “I’m honored,” Lincoln said, his voice solemn for once. “Seriously.”
“Yeah, okay,” Cassidy said, giving Lincoln’s arm an awkward pat. “Thanks for doing this.”
Lincoln still didn’t release him. “Say it. ‘Thanks, BM.’ ”
“Okay, get off,” Cassidy said with a laugh as he shoved Lincoln away.
Still grinning, Lincoln held his arms out to the side. “Burke, is this what it felt like when you won the Super Bowl? All of them?”
“Yeah. Just like this,” Jackson said, adjusting his tie.
Lincoln’s blue gaze zeroed in on Mollie, seeing her for the first time. “There you are, love. I haven’t greeted you properly yet.”
“You greeted her fine,” Jackson said. “No touching!”
Lincoln ignored this, reaching for Mollie’s hand and lifting it so he could kiss the back of it. “I know I’ve said this a million times, but if I’d met you first, you’d be so in love with me.”
Mollie laughed and leaned toward him, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I’m on to you, Lincoln Mathis. You may have this city wrapped around your finger, but I know your secret. I don’t think you want anyone to fall in love with you. I think you’re terrified.”
Mollie meant what she said, but she’d also been teasing. So she was surprised when something sharp flashed in Lincoln’s blue eyes as he released her. “Keep my secret?” he said with a wink.
She rolled her eyes, thinking she must have imagined whatever she saw there, but he gently touched her arm as she moved past him to get to Jackson through the throng of guys she didn’t recognize. “Seriously,” he said quietly. “Keep my secret?”
Mollie blinked in surprise. “Yeah. Okay.”
He nodded in thanks just as Jackson came up and smacked his hand off her arm. “No touching my girl.”
“Fair enough.” Lincoln walked away, but not before he smacked Jackson’s ass.
“What the fuck, dude?”
“I’m trying to speak football,” Lincoln said.
“We do that on the field, not in an office!”
Mollie grabbed Jackson’s arm, dragging him away from the group and toward his office, but not before she gave a thoughtful glance at Lincoln. Something was up with that guy. She wondered if anyone knew what.
Jackson slung an arm over her shoulder, bringing her in for a quick kiss, and she forgot all about Lincoln. She had all the man she needed right here.
“Tell me you’re here for a little afternoon delight,” he said as they entered his office.
“Not quite,” she said. “I wanted to show you something.”
“Is it under your shirt?” he said hopefully.
Mollie gave him a look as she pulled a thick ivory-colored envelope out of her purse and handed it to him. “I finished up work early today. Stopped home and found this in the mail.”
Mollie had already opened the envelope flap, so Jackson reached in and pulled out the stack of thick card-stock paper.
“A wedding invitation?” he said in a puzzled voice.
An RSVP card fluttered to the floor, but they both ignored it as Jackson read the name of the bride. Then his hazel eyes flicked to hers. “Is this a joke?”
