His Best Mistake (Shillings Agency) Read online

  A night. An hour. Whatever.

  “Hey, man.” Someone clasped his shoulder in that bro-code way, squeezing. “How’s it going?”

  It was Holt Cunningham, one of the men he worked with. Holt was in IT at the Shillings Agency, while Mark did security, like Steven…who was also here somewhere. Mark was a little bit relieved he hadn’t seen him yet. Steven hated him because of a blind date Lydia had set him up on. Lydia had hooked him up with a girl who had turned out to be secretly dating her best friend, who was also Lydia’s brother—none other than Steven Thomas.

  Steven still didn’t like him because of that one damn night.

  It hadn’t even been Mark’s idea in the first place.

  He smiled at Holt. “Good, good. You?”

  “Excellent.” Holt grinned, watching his fiancée, Lydia, who was still across the narthex on the phone. “Lydia’s checking home every five minutes because she misses Gabriel, but he’s fine. He’s got the cleanest babysitter in the world—I made sure of it.”

  “Full background check?”

  “You know it,” he said, grinning. “You’d do the same.”

  “I have my mother, so I don’t need to.” He rubbed his jaw. “But, yeah, if I needed to hire someone, I’d totally do a check on them.”

  Lydia came over, smiling. “Hi, Mark.”

  “You look pretty today, Lydia.”

  And she did. She wore a teal dress and her strawberry-blond hair was down around her shoulders. She looked so much like her brother Steven that he involuntarily stiffened, because Mark wasn’t all that fond of him, either. All the dude ever did was stare at him like he was trying to steal Lauren from him. He didn’t steal people’s lovers. It wasn’t how he rolled—not to mention he didn’t want a girlfriend. But Steven would never believe that.

  He was happier hating him on principle.

  “Thank you,” Lydia said, her cheeks flushing with color. “Are you here with someone? A date? Your mother? Ginny?”

  “Nah. I’m stag for the whole weekend.” He grinned. “It’s kind of nice to be alone. I don’t get that very often, between taking care of Ginny and my mother hovering, worrying about me.”

  She reached out, grabbed his hand, and squeezed. “I get that all too well.”

  “Hey.” Holt frowned and pushed his glasses back into place. “Are you calling me annoying?”

  “Never, babe.” She patted his arm and winked at Mark. “Never.”

  He leaned in, whispering something in her ear.

  Her cheeks turned brighter red, and she smacked his chest, laughing. “Holt.”

  As Mark watched the two of them, something in his chest hollowed out. There was such an easy comradery between them, such trust and love, apparent in everything they did.

  Him and Tina, they never got to that point in their relationship.

  He’d loved her, and she’d loved him, but they’d only lived together for a few months. The rest of their time had been spent on deployment, at war, or…dead.

  For as long as he lived, he’d never forget the day he got that visit. He’d been covered in baby vomit, and Ginny had been screaming her head off because she was sick. He’d been juggling a crying baby, a bottle, and a dirty diaper when the doorbell rang. He’d hurried to it, thinking it was the pizza he’d ordered for dinner…but it had been two officers in Dress Blues. When he saw them standing on the porch through the front window, he hadn’t wanted to open the door. He just froze, holding Ginny in his arms, and dropped the diaper.

  Because they were there to tell him his wife was dead.

  And he didn’t want it to be real.

  Holt waved at someone, smiling. “There’s Steven and Lauren. Once they get here, you guys can all head in together.”

  Holt and Steven were in the wedding, so he’d agreed to sit with the ladies, since their men would be busy. Knowing Steven, he’d shoot him a warning glance before walking off. “Yeah, man, sure thing. Glad to have company.”

  Steven and Holt were attached at the hip, which was ironic, considering Holt was marrying Steven’s little sister. Word was, news of their hooking up hadn’t gone over very well with Steven initially. He seemed to have warmed up to the idea since then, though.

  “Sounds good.” Lydia waved. “Daisy’s with them. Have you met her before, Mark?”

  “No,” he said, checking his phone absentmindedly. “Not yet.”

  Daisy was a cop, and Lauren kept trying to convince him they would be the perfect match. He had no interest in dating a female cop. If he broke his ironclad rule and decided to actually date someone, it would be because he saw a possibility of himself wanting to spend the rest of his life with that person. With Ginny, he couldn’t afford to get sucked into anything else. It was either a one-night stand, or the possibility of forever.

  There was no in between.

  Since Ginny had already lost one mother to a dangerous job, he’d sworn to never date another woman who thrived from danger like that again. Yes, shit happened, and a meteor could fall from the sky and kill everyone. But why tempt fate more than necessary?

  Why date a fucking cop?

  “Well, you’re about to. You’ll like her. She’s cool,” Lydia said, smiling. “Something tells me the two of you could hit it off quite nicely, if you know what I mean.”

  Here we go again.

  Women couldn’t stand to see a single man, especially if he seemed perfectly content to be that way. And he was. He didn’t need a woman in his life, fucking everything up. He had Ginny.

  That was all he needed.

  Without warning, a flash of Scarlett laughing as he kissed a path down her body for the third time that night, her thighs falling open as she buried her hands in his hair and gave herself over to him, hit him in the gut. If he met a woman like her, who didn’t live in Colorado…maybe he’d change his stance. But for now, he was alone, and that was okay.

  Being alone was safe.

  “Mark!” Lauren said from behind him. “I was hoping you’d be down here. I wanted to finally introduce you to Daisy. I’ve told her so many good things about you.”

  He stiffened, because her excitement to see him wasn’t exactly helping his cause with Steven. But he liked Lauren a lot more than her fiancé, so he forced a smile and turned. “Hello, Laur—” He froze, the words dying on his lips, because there, standing next to Lauren, was Scarlett.

  What the hell was she doing here?

  Scarlett, for her part, was just as frozen as he was, as she stared at him with horror. Her face was pale, and she wrung her tiny purse in front of her, staring at him like she was seeing a ghost instead of a man she’d fucked last night.

  Hell, he felt the same damn way.

  Why was she here, with Lauren?

  And how did she know Steven?

  Steven frowned when Mark remained silent, just staring at Scarlett because he didn’t know what to say, or do, right now. He glanced at Lauren, then Mark, and moved closer to her side. He was protecting the wrong girl. “Something wrong, Mark?”

  “You okay, man?” Holt asked, his voice laced with concern when his best friend stepped closer to Lauren. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Sorry, I… I got lost there for a second.” He forced himself to straighten and snap the hell out of it, though he didn’t stop staring at Scarlett, and she certainly didn’t stop staring at him. So, another contest of wills, was it? Well, he’d win. And then he’d find out who the hell she really was, and why she was at the same wedding as him. He couldn’t think of one possible reason Lauren would be with a girl from Colorado, at Cooper Shilling’s wedding. Unless…no. Fuck no. “Who’s your friend, here?”

  Scarlett stiffened, narrowing her eyes at him.

  “This is Daisy,” Lauren said, grinning, because she clearly saw the two of them having a stare down and probably thought it was a good thing. It fucking wasn’t. “She’s the girl I told you about, remember? Daisy, meet Mark. Mark, meet Daisy.”

  Rage, pure rage, h
it him like a sucker punch.

  Colorado, my ass.

  She’d lied about where she lived. If he’d known she was local, if he’d had even a hint of her real identity, he never would have touched her. “Actually, we’ve met.”

  Lauren blinked, clearly confused. “You did? When?”

  “Last night, we—”

  “Saw each other in the check-in line.” Daisy interjected quickly, shooting a quick glance at her friend before tucking her purse under her broken arm and holding her good hand out. “If I’d known who you were, I would have introduced myself then. It’s nice to officially meet you, Mark. I’ve heard so much about you.”

  So, she wanted to play it that way, then.

  Pretend they hadn’t seen each other naked.

  Fine.

  He reached out and closed his hand over hers, tensing because that jolt of attraction between the two of them sparked to life again. He’d hoped last night, and learning her true identity, had killed that. But, apparently it hadn’t. He let go immediately, and she tucked her hand behind her back. “I’ve heard wonderful things about you, too, but the stories didn’t do you justice. Nice to meet you…Daisy. Has anyone ever told you that you look like Black Widow?”

  She flushed, clamping her mouth into a thin line. “No.”

  “Funny. Because you do.”

  “Awesome. So glad to hear it,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “She’s pretty kick-ass, so I don’t mind being compared to her.”

  “I bet,” he replied, giving her an equally fake smile. “So. You’re a cop.”

  She lifted her chin. “I am.”

  “Cool.” He gave her a once-over. “I never would have guessed.”

  “Most don’t,” she shot back, her eyes flashing angrily. Her casted arm hung at her side, and she moved closer to Lauren. “So…time to go in, right?”

  “Right,” Steven said, frowning and staring between the two of them. “Ready, Lauren?”

  She studied Daisy carefully, then smiled at Mark. “Yep. You ready, Mark?”

  “Sure thing,” he said, returning her smile.

  Steven stiffened, then leaned in and whispered something in Lauren’s ear. Her eyes went wide, and she nodded. After staring at Daisy for a second, she cleared her throat.

  Steven and Holt wandered off toward the back of the church, and Lydia watched everyone else with wide eyes. She looked like she understood more than she let on.

  Hopefully he was wrong about that.

  Lauren cleared her throat. “So. Let’s go in?”

  “Yes, please,” Lydia said, locking arms with Lauren.

  That left Daisy and Mark to pair off.

  She looked as if she’d rather swallow a bug.

  Daisy started to follow her friend.

  Mark caught her hand. “Please. Let me escort you, ma’am.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she said, smiling. As soon as Lauren and Lydia turned their backs, the smile faded. “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?” he asked, blinking at her. “Being a gentleman?”

  “Stop having eye sex with me.”

  He choked on a laugh. “Eye sex?”

  “Yes. Eye sex. You’re looking at me like we slept together.” She tried to pull free of his grip, but he stubbornly refused to let go, knowing she wouldn’t make a scene and yank free. “And let me make this perfectly clear. We didn’t.”

  He cocked his head, purposely slowing his steps so there was more distance between them and the other women, who were whispering to each other furtively. “Funny, because I’m pretty sure we did. I was there, too. And I remember every delicious inch of your—”

  “Don’t you dare say another word. If Lauren knows we were together last night, she’ll never stop pushing you at me,” she whispered angrily. He couldn’t help but be insulted by the way she said that last part, like he was some sort of disease she couldn’t risk catching. When Lauren glanced over her shoulder, Daisy smiled and waved like nothing was wrong. She was a far better actor than he was. “So, as far as I’m concerned, we didn’t sleep together. Scarlett and Chris did.”

  Jesus. He’d never felt so unwanted as he did right now, with her on his arm, acting like being forced to date him would be a fate worse than death. “She hasn’t exactly been subtle in her attempts to get me to date you, either. She’s been pushing you at me since the second she found out I was a widower.”

  She stiffened. “With a kid.”

  “Oh.” He curled his lip up, every illusion he had about his Scarlett shattering with those three little words. Turns out, she was just like the rest of the women out there who wanted nothing to do with his kid. He’d feared as much, but it still sucked to find out he was right. He’d never wanted so badly to be wrong. “You’re one of those girls.”

  She shot him a narrow eyed look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you’re not the only one who’s been avoiding this meeting. If I’d known who you were, I wouldn’t have been so fast to sit down next to you at that damn bar,” he growled.

  “What’s wrong with me?” she asked, her eyes narrowed.

  Besides the fact that he could never date her? Nothing. And that was the damn problem. He shrugged. “What’s wrong with me?”

  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.

  After suffering through a full meal trying the best that they could to ignore that they’d been naked in bed together last night, she’d escaped to the bar. And she hadn’t gone back. When he saw her watching him, he smirked and lifted his glass to her in a salute. She spun, giving him her back, trembling with anger and something else that she refused to name right now.

  She picked up her bottle of water and chugged the rest of it. Before she even set the empty bottle down, she felt his presence behind her, and smelled his addictive, irresistible scent.

  Seriously, what is that crap? Crack in cologne form?

  She stiffened, not even bothering to face him. “Go away, Mark.”

  Completely ignoring her, he held his glass up to the bartender. “I’ll have another, please. And a cosmo for the lady.”

  “I don’t want a cosmo,” she said, her tone caustic.

  “What would you like, then?”

  She smiled at the bartender. It wasn’t his fault that Mark couldn’t take a hint. “A Diet Coke, please.”

  After the bartender started making their drinks, they stood in silence for a while. Mark sighed, dragging his hand through his hair until it stood up. Seeing it all messy like that reminded her of last night, when it had been her fingers running through his hair. “Look. I’m sorry, okay?”

  “For?” she asked slowly.

  “Poking the bear, so to speak.” He shot her an apologetic look. “I just didn’t expect you to be…well, you know. You.”

  “Yeah.” She lowered her head, avoiding his gaze, because for the first time since she found out who he was, he was acting like her Chris…and that was a dangerous, dangerous thing. “I didn’t expect you to be you, either.”