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She didn’t say anything.
Just stared at him.
Inclining his head, he stopped at the pew next to Lauren and Lydia, who were watching them. “Ladies first, Sc—Daisy. Sorry. Slipped up for a second there.”
She turned her back to her friends and shot him an eat-shit-and-die look. “Thank you, Mark. You’re such a gentleman.”
He smiled back, winking. “In all ways but one.”
Lauren choked on a gasp.
“Uh…” Lydia said with wide eyes.
Daisy flushed and sat with a thunk.
For a second, he almost felt bad for antagonizing her, but she made it so damn easy. And it bothered him that she was so bothered by him. Why didn’t she want anyone to know they’d fucked? He had his reasons for not being with her, but he wanted to know hers.
And he wanted to know them right fucking now.
He sat beside her, close enough that their arms and thighs touched, and she went stiffer than a corpse in a morgue. Turning to him, she seethed between clenched teeth, “Back. Off.”
“Oh. Sorry.” He scooted away. “Why don’t you want to go on a date with me?”
She shot him an incredulous look, turning her shoulder to Lydia and Lauren so they couldn’t hear them. “Seriously? You want to have this conversation now? Here?”
“Seriously.”
She shook her head, turned her back on him, and proceeded to shut him out. He fisted his hands on his thighs, letting her win this one, but determination was laced in his blood, making him even more stubborn than before, and that was saying a hell of a lot.
Scarlett—Daisy—was a one-of-a-kind woman, and now that he knew who she really was, everything had changed…and yet one thing hadn’t. He still wanted her more than he wanted air.
God damn it.
Chapter Seven
Why? Why? Why?
Out of all the men in the world—all the men in this hotel, for a smaller scope—why did she have to sleep with frigging Mark Matthews? There were a million reasons why she didn’t want to want him, but the sad truth was his identity didn’t change the impossible attraction she felt for him…or her inability to ignore it.
Pull yourself together, O’Rourke.
All throughout the wedding, he’d remained close to her, “accidentally” brushing his thigh or his arm against hers. Each time, he apologized, but he was definitely messing with her.
And she was tired of it.
Now that they were at the reception, people congregated on the dance floor, and at the head table Kayla and Cooper kissed, looking completely in love and way too frigging happy for one couple. To Cooper’s left were Holt and Lydia, then Steven and Lauren, a guy named Jake and his fiancée Tara, and finally, Gordon and
his wife, who was a frigging princess of all things. Mark was the only one not in the wedding.
For some reason, that made her feel bad for him, even though she shouldn’t give a damn if he felt left out. He was the new guy. Clearly, that was why he wasn’t in the wedding.
And yet…
She kept seeking him out.
He watched her from across the room, a glass of whiskey in his hand and a dance floor full of people separating them. They’d been at the same dinner table, seated next to each other, and Daisy had wanted to punch her best friend in that moment.
Damn Lauren and her unwanted matchmaking.
