His Best Mistake (Shillings Agency) Read online

He’d never hear from her again.

  She’d ghost him.

  They had to keep it as it was, with fake names and no real details about one another, so they didn’t ruin what they had with one another with reality. After taking care of the condom and chucking it in the trash, he washed up. Hands on the edges of the sink, he stared at himself in the mirror, breathing unevenly, and thought of the woman back in her bed, waiting for him to leave. He would go. He’d walk away without giving her his name, or anything real about him.

  But, damn it, he didn’t want to.

  He shut off the water, dried his face, tossed the towel on the floor under the sink, and opened the door slowly. The lights were off, and she lay on her side, facing away from him. He bent down and searched the floor in the darkness for his boxers, trying his best to be quiet so he didn’t wake her. If he could just get enough of his shit together to—

  “Stay the night?” she asked softly. So softly he thought he might have imagined it at first. “Hold me close? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

  He hesitated.

  That was a whole other thing than a mutual agreement to appease one another’s needs, so to speak. But…he’d agreed to be here for her, for whatever she required, for one night. That night wasn’t over yet. And even though holding her as he slept felt way too damn intimate for a one-night stand, she would be out of his life tomorrow, and this intimacy of the softer variety would be in the past. It had been a hell of a long time since he’d held a naked woman in his arms as she fell asleep. Clearing his throat, he dropped his boxers on the floor, and walked over to the king sized bed. “Of course.”

  As he climbed in behind her, she snuggled back against him, and something weird happened in his chest. A warmth spread through him, something he wasn’t familiar with. It was like holding this woman in his arms made him…happy. What. The. Actual. Fuck?

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “Chris.”

  That warmth? Yeah. It spread at her soft words. He wiggled closer, spooning her, and kissed the back of her shoulder. She was still warm to the touch, and as naked as he was. “No. Thank you. I needed that as much as you, if not more.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. He couldn’t make out many details in the dark, but her eyes were wide open, and she stared at him curiously. “Are you happy now?”

  He thought about it. “Right now? Right here? Yeah. I’m pretty damn happy.” He hesitated, then kissed her shoulder again, just because he fucking felt like it. “Are you?”

  She took a breath, then nodded, not speaking.

  When she didn’t say anything, he kissed her shoulder again, using his teeth to bite gently, because her soft ass was pressed against his cock, and damn it all to hell, he wanted another taste. They’d promised each other a night…and the sun wasn’t up yet.

  This time, a small moan escaped her. He started to shift closer, to roll her underneath him, but then she asked, “Does it make you feel bad that you’re happy right now?”

  “I—” That was a tricky question. Tina was dead, and had been for a long time. She wasn’t coming back. But guilt…ah. That was an emotion he was all too familiar with. He drowned in it on a daily basis, every time his baby girl woke up without her mother at her side. But he didn’t feel bad for sleeping with another woman. For wanting another woman. Sex was sex. It was chemistry, and biology, and a release of tension. That’s it. “No.”

  “Me, either,” she whispered, rolling to face him. They locked eyes in the darkness, and she reached out tentatively, brushing his hair off his forehead. “This feels too nice to be wrong.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  Couldn’t.

  Something stuck in his throat, choking him.

  So instead, he rolled on top of her, cradled her small, perfect face in his hands, and kissed her tenderly, trailing his thumb over her soft skin as his mouth ravished hers. Some things weren’t worth articulating. Some things were better shown than said. So he showed her just how much tonight meant to him. Each kiss, each caress, was a sentence he’d never say to her, because this would end between them before it even began.

  And then, in the morning, when the sun started to rise…

  He walked away.

  Just like he promised.

  Chapter Five

  The man was a God.

  Every inch of her body was aching in the most delicious way as she woke up. Stretching, she winced when she discovered parts of her body that hadn’t been sore in years. She froze, eyes flying open as she remembered exactly why she was sore there. She…oh God, she’d made love to a stranger last night. Not once. Not even just twice. Three times.

  He’d made her come more times in one night than in the rest of her whole freaking life—which made her feel guilty, because she loved William, but he’d never made her feel like that—and then, to top it off, he’d held her all night long after. And she didn’t even know his name.

  Not his real one, anyway.

  Slowly, she rolled her head toward where he’d slept last night, directly behind her. The pillow was empty except for a note scribbled on the hotel’s notepad. Swallowing hard, she reached out and grabbed it, squinting as she read the messy handwriting.

  Scarlett,

  Last night was amazing. Thank you for giving that to me, and showing me that life can still be fun. I hope I did the same for you. Reminded you to live. You’re way too beautiful to spend the rest of your life missing a man who would have wanted you to be happy. Remember that.

  Chris (Evans)

  A smile lifted up the corners of her lips, and she hugged the note to her chest. Last night had been…well, perfect. She hadn’t gone to that bar looking for a man, or even a flirtation, but she’d found that and so much more. As silly as it might sound, he had absolutely reminded her that she shouldn’t want to spend the rest of her life alone. She wasn’t ready to jump in the ring yet, so to speak, but she would be ready when she found the right guy.

  A guy like her “Chris.”

  Her phone buzzed, and she reached for it, smiling when she saw the alarm clock was back in place on the nightstand. She read the text then sat up straight. It was from her best friend, Lauren.

  Coming up to the room with coffee.

  Crap. She cast a quick glance about the room, taking in the clothes that, to her, had clearly been taken off during a hot and heavy session of sex.

  She replied, Okay. See you soon, then hopped out of bed, hurriedly threw on her usual oversized T-shirt and plaid pajama pants, threw her messy hair in a ponytail, and brushed her teeth to remove the lingering taste of vodka from her mouth. As she spit, she heard a knock on her door, and cursed under her breath. Running across the bedroom, she picked up all her clothes, threw them in the corner, and gave the rest of the room a cursory glance.

  Nothing looked weird, so she put on a smile and opened the door to her best friend. “Hey!”

  Lauren looked at her, frowning. “What’s up with you?”

  “Huh? Nothing.” God, how did she always know? “Why?”

  “You just look…” Lauren tipped her head, her brown hair falling over her shoulder as she came inside holding two to-go cups from Starbucks. “Different.”

  “I, uh, slept well,” she said calmly, despite her rising panic that her friend was going to figure out her secret. “I drank, then passed out. I didn’t even wake up until you texted me.”

  “Seriously?” Lauren asked, setting the coffees down and propping herself on the edge of the unmade bed. “You just woke up?”

  “Yep. Like I said. I drank last night.”

  Lauren’s face softened, because she, of course, knew what last night had been. “Are you doing okay?”

  “I am,” she said quickly. And the thing was…she was. Thanks to a certain blond, brown-eyed, talented man. “I’m okay. Honestly.”

  The other woman stared. Just…stared.

  She wasn’t buying it. Daisy could tell.

  The last thing she needed was her best fri
end finding out she’d had sex with another man. Then Lauren would expect Daisy to be ready to move on and find love again, but she didn’t want to. Not yet, anyway. Her career was all she needed right now, thank you very much.

  Which was why it was so important to keep all this on the hush hush.

  News of her night on the wild side would be an invitation for Lauren to start setting her up with men her friend thought would be perfect for her—including that Mark guy that Daisy swore she would never, ever date. She had a strict “no military men” policy.

  Her father had been military. He’d been a drunken, abusive asshole. She’d seen enough men like him over her years in the force to know that, more often than not, the military had a way of changing a man for the worse. Sure, there were exceptions to that rule.

  Some people got out of the service without scars, visible or not.

  But she wasn’t willing to gamble on whether the man she was dating was one of them. She’d survived one abusive vet. She wouldn’t try to make it through another.

  There were plenty of men out there without a military history.

  Men like Chris.

  Was he still here, in the hotel? Even though she wasn’t supposed to…she wanted to see him again. To thank him for a magical night. And then maybe…

  Lauren waved a hand in front of her face, her blue eyes narrow. “Hellllooooo?”

  “Hi,” Daisy said quickly, forcing a smile and a lighthearted laugh. “When do we need to be downstairs for the wedding?”

  “Four.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “It’s noon now.”

  “Wait. What?” she cried. She hadn’t slept in past nine since she graduated high school. “No way.”

  “Yep.”

  Daisy sat down, staring straight ahead.

  Apparently Chris wore me out in more ways than one.

  She smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Guess I better get moving then, huh?”

  “After coffee.” She handed Daisy the coffee, still staring, then lowered her head. “You seem…” She leaned forward, eyes wide, lips parted. “Oh my God, who is he?”

  Crap, crap, crap. “Who is who?”

  “Daisy Violet O’Rourke, you have a condom wrapper under your bed, you’re smiling, and you seem way too frigging relaxed considering you probably have a hangover, so that means one thing. It doesn’t take a cop to figure this mystery out.” She stood up—jumped up, more accurately—and pointed a finger in her face. “You had sex last night!”

  Daisy’s cheeks went red hot. She’d made a rookie mistake and missed a frigging condom wrapper, of all things. Way to go, dumbass. “God, could you shout that any louder? I don’t think the wedding party downstairs heard you.”

  “Who is he?” Lauren cried out again, sitting down but bouncing with excitement. “Do I know him? Is he a guest here? Can I meet him? I need to meet him.”

  “No, yes, no, and absolutely not.” Daisy stood, bent over, picked up the wrapper, and crinkled it in her hand. “It was a one night thing. That’s it. I don’t even know his name.”

  Lauren’s jaw dropped. “Daisy. You didn’t even ask him his name? After all the lectures you gave me when I was single and dating, about how I should never be alone with someone without telling someone else who I was with, and you were with a guy whose name you didn’t even know?”

  “Well, I gave him a name. A fake one. Chris.” Daisy smiled. She couldn’t help it. Just thinking about him, and how they’d come up with those names, made her all warm and fuzzy inside. Oh God. She was broken. Chris had broken her. Turned her into a sap. “And I was Scarlett.”

  Lauren blinked for a beat, clearly caught off guard, but she rebounded quickly. “Was he good? Was he cute? What did he look like? Can I meet him?”

  “You already asked that,” she said, smiling despite her friend’s overenthusiasm about her sex life. “You can’t meet him, because I won’t be seeing him again. He doesn’t live around here, I don’t think. And…I might have told him I live in Colorado. Possibly. Hypothetically.”

  Lauren snorted. “Nice.”

  “When he asked where I was from, I told the truth. I just don’t live there anymore, is all. Like I said, it was just a night. A fun night. And I needed that.” She walked over to the trash can and threw away the piece of evidence she’d missed. “But, anyway, this changes nothing.”

  “The hell it doesn’t. It means you’re ready.” She stood, fairly trembling with excitement. “And how convenient, too, since we’re at a wedding with a bunch of eligible men…including Mark. You remember him, right? The guy I was telling you about—”

  “No. Absolutely not.” She crossed her arms, even though she was fully aware that the only reason she’d been invited to this wedding was because Lauren wanted to hook her up with her fiancé Steven’s coworker. They both worked for the groom at the Shillings Agency, which was why they were in attendance. “I told you, I don’t do military men.”

  “He’s not in anymore.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I can’t. I won’t.”

  Lauren bit her tongue. “Fine. Whatever. But still—you’re ready, and that’s amazing, Daisy. And once you meet Mark, you’ll change your mind.”

  Daisy rolled her eyes. “You just won’t give in, will you?”

  “Not until you do,” Lauren said way too cheerfully. “I know when I’m right, and I’m right. You two are meant to be.”

  Her stomach tightened at the same words Chris had said to her last night. “Then you’ll be waiting a hell of a long time, because that’s never going to happen. Been there, got the T-shirt, wore it out. Not buying another.”

  “The T-shirt fits pretty well on me and Steven,” Lauren said defensively. “He has his rough days, but I love him, and he loves me, and that makes it all worth it.”

  “I’m sure it does. But I’m not you, and he’s not Steven, and I’m not going there.”

  Lauren sighed, but nodded. “All right. I get it. But this Chris guy…tell me everything. Don’t leave out a single detail.”

  Daisy grinned, sat down next to her best friend. “He came up to me at the bar…”

  …

  A few hours later, she’d told her whole story, leaving out nothing, and she and Lauren were dressed, their hair was done, and they had on enough makeup to put a group of middle school girls to shame. Laughing, they left Daisy’s room and closed the door behind them. As they turned, a man closed his arms around Lauren from behind, making her squeal. Daisy stiffened, about to kick some ass, but then recognized the red-haired man holding her friend.

  It was Steven, Lauren’s fiancé. He worked at the Shillings Agency, along with the groom, Cooper Shillings, and a bunch of the groomsman, including Holt Cunningham, Jake Forsythe, and the always mentioned Mark Matthews, the man Lauren was determined to hook her up with.

  “Hey, cupcake,” he said, his voice low. He buried his face in her neck, kissing it gently. “I missed you.”

  She snuggled back into him, her face becoming instantly…brighter. There was no other description for it. Steven made her happy, there was no denying that, and for a while, Daisy had had that, too, with William. She’d been stupidly happy. So happy it hurt. And then he’d died.

  “It’s only been four hours,” Daisy pointed out logically.

  “That’s four hours too long.” He kissed Lauren’s neck one more time, then grinned at Daisy. “Hey. Nice hickey.”

  Daisy slapped a hand on her neck, eyes wide? “What?”

  “Let me see.” Lauren peeled her hand away and laughed. “He’s right. I don’t know how I missed it, but you totally have a hickey on your neck.”

  Inwardly groaning, she pulled her keycard back out and said, “Give me a minute. I need to fix this.” When she was alone in her bathroom, she pulled her makeup out, frowning at the telltale mark on her skin. But, in all honesty, Chris had marked her in more ways than that. He’d gotten his wish. She had a feeling she’d never get in a hotel bed again without thinking of him.
/>   And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that yet.

  All her feelings were a jumbled mess right now. She was still tingling from all the orgasms Chris had given her last night, but she was never going to see him again, and even though that was for the best, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit sad about that. And, as if that wasn’t enough on the anniversary of William’s death, she was now at a wedding. A wedding she’d never gotten to have.

  Because William went and died.

  Leaving her all alone with a wedding dress.

  She still had it, in the back of her closet, along with his tux. They just hung there, alone for all eternity, never to be worn, or seen, or even touched. She just pretended they didn’t exist.

  Most of the time it worked.

  “Daisy? You ready?” Lauren called out. “We’re late.”

  “Yeah. Hold on.” After she covered the mark up with concealer, she nodded at herself in the mirror. You’ve got this. It’s just a wedding. You’re going to go. You’re going to smile. Maybe you’ll even dance with a cute guy, because that’s something people do at weddings. And you won’t think about William, or how you didn’t get to do this, because it’s time to move on. It’s time to live and be happy, and stop clinging to a memory instead of real, live people.

  It was a good speech. An awesome pep talk.

  Too bad she didn’t believe a word of it.

  Chapter Six

  Mark tugged at his tie, watching everyone rush through the narthex of the church in their dresses and suits. He’d just gotten off a FaceTime video with Ginny and his mother, and to be honest, he’d rather be home with them right now, or standing in the hotel lobby secretly hoping to see the bright red hair of the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about.

  His Scarlett.

  After leaving her room at dawn, he’d crashed for a few hours, and when he woke up, the urge to go back to her room and knock was strong. It wasn’t that he wanted anything real with her. He hadn’t changed his mind on that. And even if he had, she lived in Colorado and he was here. That wouldn’t work. It was just…

  He wanted more.