Best Man Under The Mistletoe

But he’d be lying if he claimed he wasn’t irritated by the fact she thought he had something to do with those leaked pictures. What on earth would his motive be? There was no reason for him to go around with his uncle terrorizing the people of this town. Gabe actually liked those who had been affected by his uncle’s activities and would never want to see any of them harmed. Shane and Brandee had even been targeted, for pity’s sake. Dusty’s antics were absolutely inconceivable.

As Gabe slid behind the wheel and started the engine, Chelsea came strutting out of the barn straight toward him. He rolled his window down.

“I knew you’d chase after me.”

Rolling her eyes, she propped her hands on her hips. “Brandee just texted me and asked if we’d run to Natalie Valentine’s bridal shop so I can get my last fitting.”

“As much as I’d love to help you with a fitting, I’m afraid I have work to do. My uncle, as you know, is ruining my name even in his death and I have too many clients to coddle during this sensitive time. Besides, how could you ever bring yourself to trust me at a fitting?”

Chelsea’s lips thinned and she gritted her teeth before saying, “Brandee wants us to stop at Priceless to pick up her wedding present to Shane. She bought a table and chairs for their dining room, says it’s just like the one his grandmother used to have, and she wants to surprise him. The dress fitting just makes sense because we’ll already be there.”

Gabe dropped his head back against the headrest and groaned. “You know, I do have a company to run.”

“Yes, and here I am with nothing to do. Or maybe you’ve forgotten I have a demanding position, as well.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he argued. Blowing out a sigh, he glanced back up at her. “Get in. We’ll swing by my place and pick up my truck so we can go get this furniture.”

“I’ll drive myself.”

“There’s no reason we can’t ride together. I have to take the truck anyway to pick up the table. Unless you’re afraid to be alone with me.”

Chelsea narrowed her eyes. “I hate your inflated ego.”

“Duly noted. Now, get in.”

He couldn’t help but smile as she rounded the hood of his car. He didn’t know why he wanted to provoke her, but he couldn’t help himself. In actuality, he wanted to spend more time with her. Seducing her was something he wanted to pursue, sure, but more importantly he wanted her to know that he would never, ever, treat a woman the way she’d been treated by his uncle. Above all else, he needed her to know that. And she wouldn’t just take his word for it. She needed to see that he wasn’t some jerk that got off on blackmailing people and ruining reputations.

As soon as she got into the car, he put it in gear and set off toward his downtown loft.

He kept his truck in the second bay of his garage, for which he paid a hefty monthly fee to have parking beneath his downtown loft apartment. But a man couldn’t live in Texas and not own a truck. It was practically against the law.

“You know—” he began once they’d switched to the truck and were back on the road.

“We don’t need to talk.”

Well, apparently this was going to be more difficult than he’d thought. Gabe tightened his grip on the wheel.

“Yes, we do,” he countered. “As I was saying, you know there are many people in this town who know me and know I would never side with my uncle. I wouldn’t have covered up such maliciousness.”

“I know you were cleared of any wrongdoing. The sheriff told me he’s positive you had nothing to do with the scandal. But at the same time, he was your only family member. How did you not know what he was up to? He was old and feeble. Someone had to know something about what he was doing.”

There was bite to her voice, but beneath that gruff exterior there was pain. Gabe hated what she’d gone through, the humiliation and embarrassment. The fact that so many had suffered at the hands of his uncle didn’t sit well with him, but he was especially upset about Chelsea. Her betrayal had taken on a darker, more personal feel than the others.

No matter how much anger she projected toward him, he was hell-bent on proving to her that he understood, that he totally agreed with her, that they were on the same page. He knew his uncle was a bastard, but just because Gabe’s last name was Walsh didn’t mean he knew what had been taking place in the months leading up to his uncle’s death.

“I can’t imagine how difficult this has been,” he started, hoping she let him finish. “I know you’re angry, but I swear I didn’t know about those photos until they were leaked. I never even looked at them.”

Chelsea snorted and shot him a glare. “If you think for a second I believe that lie, you’re more of a fool than I thought. You’re a guy. You looked.”

“We could argue this till we’re both blue in the face, you still wouldn’t believe me,” he growled. “But you’ll see. Once the truth is revealed and they catch whoever this accomplice is, you’ll realize that I truly knew nothing. You think I’d actually keep information like this to myself? Dusty self-destructed and that has nothing to do with me. I have a reputation, a multibillion-dollar security business to look after. The last thing I want to be involved in is a scandal.”

Gabe had to believe she’d eventually come to see that he wasn’t lying. He prided himself on honesty, and liked to think he was a man of integrity. Sure, he could be hard when it came to work, but when it came to his personal life, he could admit he was a bit softer when it was necessary. And this situation called for delicate measures unlike anything he’d ever known.

As he pulled into the Courtyard Shops, Gabe figured that even though he’d rather do anything else than wait on Chelsea to try on her dress, at least this forced time together was giving him the prime opportunity he needed to win her over. Which was important to him, even though he had big problems to deal with at his business right now.

“You can go on into Priceless while I try on the dress.”

Gabe hopped out of the truck and shot her a wink. “If it’s all the same, I’ll just stick with you. You won’t be long and then you can help me load the table next door.”

Chelsea groaned as she jerked on her door handle. Normally, Gabe would get the door for a woman—he was raised in the South by a well-mannered mother—but he also had a feeling if he tried to get the door for Chelsea, he’d just be taking a step in the wrong direction.

But the moment he stepped inside Natalie’s shop, Gabe started to reconsider his ploy to stick close to Chelsea. There were dresses everywhere. Fluffy, lacy, silky dresses, and the place smelled...pink. If a smell could have a color, this place was definitely pink.

The peppy little shop attendant greeted Chelsea and promptly went to get the dress from the back. Gabe spotted a lounge area in that direction and made his way to a white sofa in front of the wall of mirrors. He could catch up on a few emails that needed his attention and check in on his right-hand man doing some security work in Dallas for the next few weeks.

Nothing was as important as his business, especially during this crucial time. He’d already reached out to some of his closest clients and assured them that Dusty’s scandal had nothing to do with the Walsh Group. He’d also made sure they knew they could come to him personally with questions or concerns.

The unfortunate, untimely setback wouldn’t change the way Gabe handled his business. But it sure did complicate matters. If ole Dusty weren’t already dead, Gabe would have no problem driving out to his mansion and beating the ever loving sh—

Every single thought vanished when Chelsea stepped from the dressing room and came to stand in front of the three-way mirror. The fitted gold gown shouldn’t have looked so damn sexy, seeing as how it was long, with full sleeves, and a high neck. But the material hugged every single curve and dip on Chelsea’s luscious body, mocking him. He’d seen her in jeans, even in little flowy sundresses, but nothing like this, all sultry and glamorous.

She smoothed the dress over her flat stomach and turned from side to side. The innocent gesture shouldn’t have gripped his attention, but this woman had him in a total trance.

Emails and damage control forgotten, Gabe set aside his phone. He had nothing else to be doing right this second except for admiring her as she watched her reflection.

Hell. This wasn’t the time or the place to be getting uncomfortable in his jeans. Just who the hell was seducing whom here? But from the unsure look on her face—her brows were drawn, her mouth turned down in a frown—it seemed she had doubts about how damn perfect and sexy she looked.

“It’s fine,” he growled after what seemed like an hour of pure torture. “Can we wrap it up here?”

Hands on her hips, Chelsea glared at him from her reflection in the mirror. “I need to make sure I can breathe and sit without busting a seam, if you don’t mind. It seems tight.”

Actually he did mind, and it was damn tight...the dress and his pants. He should’ve gone to the antique store because this was pure hell. Then again, at least he had a heads-up for how she’d look when he had to escort her down the aisle. He’d hate to be all mouth agape and drooling in front of Shane and Brandee’s friends and families.

The idea of Chelsea and him walking down the aisle shouldn’t have made him feel awkward, yet it did. Weddings in general made him twitchy. That whole happily-ever-after wasn’t for everyone; he’d even managed to dodge being in any type of wedding party his entire life. But there was no way he could say no to Shane, his very best friend.

The more Chelsea shifted and turned and smoothed her hands over those luscious curves, the more uncomfortable Gabe became.

Commotion behind him had him tearing his gaze from the mirror and glancing over his shoulder. A slew of teenage girls came in the door, chattering and giggling about homecoming and needing perfect dresses. He could not get out of there fast enough. Between the lace, the satin and the chatter in such high octaves, this place was sucking the testosterone right out of his body.

“This will just have to work because I don’t have the time to do more measurements,” Chelsea muttered as she stepped off the platform and headed back into her dressing room. “Give me two minutes and we’ll be out of here.”

Gabe came to his feet, more than ready to get the hell out. As he shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, he heard Chelsea mumbling and cursing from inside the dressing room. Seconds later, the door eased open just a crack.

“Um... I’m stuck.”

He eyed the narrow strip of her face showing through the door. “’Scuse me?”

“The zipper,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “The damn thing is stuck. Get the salesclerk to come help me.”

Gabe glanced over his shoulder at the mayhem of teens and fluffy dresses. The two workers were running in all directions accommodating parents and demanding girls.

He could do this. How hard would it be to get a zipper unstuck? Pulling in a deep breath, Gabe pushed open the dressing room door and offered up his assistance.

Three

“Gabe. What—?”

She backed up and stared as he shut and locked the door behind him. The narrow space seemed to shrink even more with his broad frame filling the area.

“You said you needed help.”

Chelsea crossed her arms over her chest. “I said to get the salesclerk.”

“Well, darlin’, there’s about a dozen teenage girls out there and only two staff that I saw. That’s not a great ratio, so if you want out of this dress anytime in the next few hours, I’m it.”

That gleam in his eye was just about the naughtiest, sexiest thing she’d ever seen. Which was one of the many reasons she shouldn’t be closed in with him, and definitely why he shouldn’t help unzip her dress. Being half-naked and in close proximity with Gabe would only lead to...

She couldn’t even let her mind wander down that path.

“I’ll do it myself,” she claimed, though she’d already tried that. “Go on to the antique store and I’ll be right over.”

Gabe took one step and was right against her. “We both have other things to do today, so you might as well let me help you out.”

“You seem to be enjoying this a little too much.”

His hand skimmed up her side where the zipper was carefully hidden. “I’ll be enjoying this even more if you’d let me work this zipper down.”

The image that immediately popped into her head had Chelsea thinking for a half second of lifting her arm and letting him have a go. But then she remembered who he was...or rather who his uncle had been.

“This isn’t a good idea,” she told him. Surely he saw that...didn’t he? He knew her feelings and knew full well she didn’t trust him.

“What’s not a good idea?” he asked, his eyes traveling over her face, landing on her lips. “Us in this confined space alone or the fact that you’re attracted to me?”

Chelsea fisted her hands at her sides—to keep from hitting him or grabbing his face and kissing him, she wasn’t sure. Her attraction wouldn’t be such an issue if Gabe wasn’t a Walsh. If his uncle hadn’t tried to destroy so many lives, hers included. The guilt by association was enough to have her emotionally pulling back.

But the sizzling attraction didn’t let up, no matter how much she tried to shove it aside.

Chelsea’s body trembled, betraying her vow to keep him at a distance. When his fingers skimmed over her again, he quirked a half smile as he brought his eyes back up to meet hers.

“Is this the part where you deny your attraction?” he asked, still using those clever hands. His fingertips circled around to where the dress exposed her back.

Chelsea sucked in a breath and cursed every single goose bump that popped up along her skin. They were both fully clothed, yet his fingertips on her bare back was something too akin to a lover’s touch. And it had been too damn long since she’d taken a lover; she was clearly letting this affect her more than it should.

She’d not made the best choices in men. When she’d been younger, she confused attention with attraction. Then as she’d gotten older she’d distanced herself because she didn’t trust her judgment. The scandal had her more than hesitant at getting close to any man. Now, here she was attracted to a man who was the next of kin to the bastard who’d humiliated her.

“Turn around,” he whispered in her ear.

Without thinking, she turned to face the mirror. Gabe stood directly behind her, his body practically plastered against hers and those fingers still roaming over her heated skin. His eyes met hers in the mirror as he raised his other hand to the top of the zipper. Just the brush of his knuckles on the underside of her arm had her shivering even though the thick material served as a barrier.

Chelsea closed her eyes, hoping that if she didn’t have to look at their reflection she could ignore this entire moment.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

She gave in way too easily as her gaze met his once again. “Stop,” she muttered.

“Stop what exactly?” He gave the zipper the slightest tug. “Stop helping you out of this dress or stop tormenting us both?”

She’d never been one to think of having sex in a public place, but right at this moment, she’d give just about anything to alleviate this ache caused by a man she shouldn’t want.

“You had to know when we kissed that there would be more,” he whispered. Though he didn’t need to keep his voice down. The chaos of teen girls on the other side of that locked door drowned out anything they were saying...or doing.

“There can’t be more.”

The zipper gave way just as he brushed his lips along the side of her neck. Chelsea’s body betrayed her...much as it had ever since Gabe had stepped foot into this tiny room. Closing her eyes, she dropped her head against his shoulder. Maybe she just wanted to take this moment, maybe she wanted to ignore everything and let him pleasure her. He was doing a damn fine job already.

Why did she have to be so torn? Why did he have to be such a mystery?

The hand on her back came around to her throat, tipping her head just enough for him to trail his lips over her exposed skin. He continued to work on her zipper just as expertly as he heated her up. She was about one strategically placed kiss away from moaning.

“Don’t lie to me again and tell me you don’t want me,” he murmured in her ear. “You’re shaking in my arms and I haven’t even gotten you out of this dress yet.”

He cupped her jaw and turned her head toward him. As his mouth crashed onto hers, Chelsea turned in his arms, threading her fingers through his hair and taking what he so freely gave.

Just for a minute. That was all. Then she’d go back to loathing him and believing he was a liar. But right now, common sense and reality had no place here.

Nothing lied about his lips or the hands that roamed all over her body. He wanted her just as fiercely as she wanted him.

Gabe backed her against the wall and gripped her hips, pulling her toward him. His arousal was obvious.

If he lit her up this quickly, this intensely, what would happen once they were skin to skin? Would he take his time and savor the moment? Would he—?

“Excuse me?” A knock came on the door. “We have several girls who need to try some things on.”

Gabe eased back slightly and muttered under his breath. Chelsea wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. First, there’d been the naked pictures and now she’d been pretty much caught getting it on in the dressing room of the only bridal shop in town. Could she provide more fodder for the gossip mill? Maybe she should parade down the main street of Royal in the buff.

“My zipper was stuck,” she called out, realizing how lame that sounded. “Be right out.”

Chelsea pushed Gabe back, but he couldn’t go far considering the narrow space. “Either help me with the rest of this zipper or get out.”

His dark eyes were heavy with arousal, the bulge in his jeans an added reminder of what they’d nearly done. Heat crept up her neck and flushed her face. She reached to the side of her dress and found that he’d actually gotten the zipper all the way down. When had that happened? Likely somewhere between that first touch and when he’d nearly kissed her to orgasm.

“Your work here is done,” she told him, more than ready to get out of this dress and back into her jeans and boots.

Gabe took one step toward her, framed her face in his hands and leaned to within a breath of her mouth. “My work with you hasn’t even started.”

Releasing her, he stepped from the room and out the door just as casual as you please. Chelsea sank onto the tiny accent chair in the corner and took a deep breath. Right now the least of her worries was the people on the other side of that door when she walked out.

No, her greatest concern was the man who’d just left her aching even more than before. Nobody had ever gotten her so worked up, and here she was still trembling and in desperate need for him to finish the job.

Damn it. How was she going to keep her distance while they worked on this wedding, and not fall into bed with Gabe Walsh?

Four

Gabe shut down his laptop and came to his feet. It had been two days since his close encounter with Chelsea at the bridal shop and he was no closer to finding relief than he was then.

The damn woman had gotten to him. Perhaps it was her sassy mouth, or maybe it was the fact she hadn’t initially believed him when he’d said he was in no way involved in leaking those nude photos. Maybe it was the way she wore jeans and tanks like they were made for her. Hell, he didn’t know. All Gabe knew was that Chelsea Hunt was an enigma that he simply couldn’t solve.

He’d been a damn special agent and still he couldn’t figure out how someone as smart-mouthed and difficult as Chelsea had gotten under his skin. He could find any woman to scratch his itch, but he wasn’t that guy anymore. In his twenties, he’d been selfish, falling into the bed of any willing woman. He was more particular now, definitely busier with work. And no one had pulled at him like Chelsea Hunt. So, no. No other woman would do.

But right now he had a few other pressing matters. Several of his clients had questioned him about his connection to his uncle. He’d already spoken with quite a few of them and he wasn’t done yet. Gabe planned to spend the rest of his day running interference and hopefully smoothing ruffled feathers.

He grabbed his hat and headed out the door of his loft apartment. He loved the prime location in downtown Royal. There were shops, restaurants, and it wasn’t too far from the Texas Cattleman’s Club. He planned to head over later to get some riding in. Getting on the back of a horse and taking off into the fresh air always calmed him and helped to clear his mind.

The only drawback to living in a loft in town was that he couldn’t have his own horses. Growing up outside Dallas on a working farm had been every little boy’s dream, and riding had been a staple in his life. At least being a member of the Texas Cattleman’s Club offered him anything he could want, including access to the club’s stables. So he had the best of both worlds right now.

Gabe’s cell vibrated in his pocket as he headed to the garage beneath his loft apartment. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen and swiped to answer.

“Shane. What’s up?”

“Just checking in on you, man. How are you holding up with all the fallout from your uncle?”

Gabe tightened his grip on the phone and resisted the urge to groan. “It’s been a bit of a nightmare, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Brandee and I are here for you, whatever you need. We know you’d never have a hand in anything this scandalous and cruel.”

Gabe slid his sunglasses from the top of his head and settled them in place. “I’m doing damage control with the company. There’s not much else anyone can do. I appreciate the offer.”

“Of course. I hate how all this is happening on top of the wedding details,” Shane added.

“Not a big deal. Like I said, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Speaking of wedding details, my fiancée is not happy.”

Gabe laughed as he settled in behind the wheel of his truck. “Sounds like your problem, not mine.”

“Oh, it’s every bit your problem,” Shane corrected. “Were you in the dressing room at the bridal shop with Chelsea? Wait, I know the answer to that. What the hell were you thinking, man?”

Blowing out a sigh, Gabe started the engine. “Does it matter? Nothing happened. Her zipper was stuck, that’s all.”

Well, that was all he’d own up to. Whatever was brewing between Chelsea and him was their business. As much as he’d like to claim there was more, things hadn’t progressed near to where he wanted them. This was the slowest form of torture and foreplay he’d ever experienced in his life.

“Listen, whatever you do with anyone else is fine.”

“Glad I have permission, Dad.”

“But,” Shane went on, “Chelsea is different. After what she’s been through and with her being Brandee’s best friend, this is a little more delicate than you just messing around with any other woman.”

“I’m well aware of how vulnerable Chelsea is.” Anger simmered as Gabe clenched the steering wheel. “And we’re not messing around. How the hell did you find out anyway?”

Because he knew for a fact Chelsea wouldn’t have run to Brandee and spilled. Even though this was perfect girly gossip, Gabe liked to think he knew Chelsea pretty well and this wasn’t the type of chatter she’d take part in.

“You think a shop full of teens and their mothers didn’t know you or Chelsea?” Shane asked in disbelief. “This town isn’t that big, man. And if I know about it, you don’t think Daniel hasn’t heard by now?”

Daniel Hunt, Chelsea’s brother. Chelsea’s older, overprotective brother. He and Chelsea had been through so much with the loss of their parents. Everyone knew their mother had run out on them and their father had passed a year later, some said from a broken heart. Was it any wonder Chelsea was so closed off, so leery and untrusting? Add in the scandal over the photos and she’d had quite a bit thrown at her. More than most people should endure. And other than Daniel and Brandee, who did she have to lean on?