It Had to Be You by Georgia Clark (iphone ebook reader .TXT) 📕

back to the present. The Fitzpatrick-Maple wedding. The recalcitrant father. “If my father couldn’t walk me down the aisle, he’d be crying more than me.”

“Mmm,” said Liv.

“There must be some way of appealing to the general’s better self.”

“Mmm.” Liv’s eyes were glazed, somewhere between dreamy and worried.

“Liv!” Savannah peered at her. “Have you been listening to a word I’ve been saying?”

“No,” Liv sighed. “I haven’t.”

Savannah caught a whiff of intrigue. “Why not?”

“No reason. Let’s get back to… whatever it was you were talking about.”

Savannah folded her arms. “What’s going on?”

Liv sighed and recounted the World’s Most Awkward Date Rejection, explaining there was absolutely no way she could go out with Sam. No way she was ready or that it’d even be appropriate. He worked for her. And it hadn’t even been a year since Eliot had died. “I mean, I couldn’t very well say yes, could I?”

Savannah’s eyes were the size of beachballs. “Of course you should go on a date with Sam! Everyone should go on a date with whoever they want!”

Liv swayed back from Savannah’s gale-force enthusiasm. “I don’t think so. I mean, look at me.”

“I am looking at you. And I see a smart, successful woman who he is obviously attracted to. And why wouldn’t he be?”

Liv frowned. “What about Ben? Isn’t it too soon?”

“Of course it is—for Ben. But you don’t need to tell him you’re going on a date. It’s just one little date!”

Liv looked down at her baggy overalls. “What would I wear?”

“I’ll help you get ready!” Savannah was out of her chair, kneeling besides Liv. “It’ll be so fun, and I’m actually dying to give you a makeover.”

“You think I need a makeover?”

Savannah nodded, fervently. “Nothing drastic. We could just shape your brows and do a bright lip, and I bet I can do something cool with your hair—”

“Okay, point taken. I suppose I could ask Henry and Gor to babysit.”

“And if they can’t do it, I will!” Savannah clapped her hands. “You deserve this, Liv. And Sam is wonderful. You’d make the best couple.”

“ ‘Couple’? What happened to ‘one little date’?” Liv was up and pacing. “So, what, should I just call him back and accept? Isn’t that a bit weird?”

“I don’t think he’ll mind.” Savannah bounced back to her feet. “This is so exciting! And honestly, I need the distraction.”

“From what?”

From soft lips and summer tans. A woman’s curves; a topographic map she felt called to explore… “Nothing,” Savannah replied. “Go on, call him!”

Was there something perverse about convincing her dead ex’s widow to go on a date with another man? Yes. Yes, there was. Yet somehow, that’s what was happening.

Liv scrolled through her phone, locating the chef’s number. She winced, rubbing her stomach. “Gosh, I feel so weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Like I’m hungry. Or getting sick. Or like I’m… ” Liv’s eyes pulsed in recognition. She met Savannah’s gaze, looking a bit sheepish. “I think I’m excited.”

Savannah smiled. Liv deserved this.

Everyone deserved to love, and be loved. However they damn well pleased.

Liv tapped Sam’s number. “Here goes nothing.”

37

Zach’s thumbs moved cautiously over his phone. Hey! I’m here! No, too eager. Yo, downstairs. Too American. Miss Mitchell, your chariot awaits. Oh God, could he be more pretentious?

“Bloody hell.” Zach tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and raked his hair with both hands. What had gotten into him?

That was obvious. Darlene had gotten into him.

He’d always had a low-key crush on his bandmate, but it was filed in the Never Going to Happen folder, with a backup copy in Not Her Type and Off-Limits (re: Work). But one impulsive lie followed by two mind-blowing kisses had set those folders ablaze. The kiss outside Babbo started replaying, a tape so worn it was a wonder it hadn’t snapped. The feeling of her mouth against his: eager, passionate. All burning heat and crazed, pent-up desire. God, it was hot. So much more than a kiss. It was a floodgate smashing. A hundred wild horses stampeding. It’d taken him a full week to recover. The idea of texting Lauren or the handful of girls he was chatting with promptly seemed ridiculous. After you fly private, you can’t go back to coach.

And then there was the photo shoot. If the kiss had been hot, the shoot had been a nuclear explosion. The way she pulled him on top of her, definitely into it, both of them writhing and groping and grinding against each other—

“Oh, Christ,” Zach moaned. He’d always been horny. But Darlene Mitchell was turning him into thirteen-year-old boy. It was mortifying. The only way he could control himself was by remembering that Darlene was unquestionably out of his league. There was a photograph of her meeting President Obama while she was at Princeton hanging in her hallway! Darlene was beautiful and brilliant. And he was a ridiculously randy idiot.

“Go away!” he hissed at his lap. “Seriously, Jolly Roger, get the hell out of—”

Someone rapped on the passenger window.

“Darlene!” He hurriedly adjusted his pants, abandoning the plan to open the door for her. She slipped in next to him, filling the car with the sweet smell of coconut and jasmine. Somehow she managed to look both adorable and ravishing. Zach did not let his gaze linger on her luscious mouth. Or her perfect breasts. Or her gorgeous ass.

“Were you yelling at your penis?” Darlene asked, placing her purse on the back seat.

“No, don’t be absurd.” Zach started the engine. The Mercedes purred to life. “You look glorious,” he added, risking another glance over as he pulled into traffic. “I like the wig. I mean, I prefer the ’fro, but I like the wig.”

Darlene smoothed her neat, glossy bob. “Not a lot of Black people in the Hamptons. Didn’t want to freak your folks out with the ’fro.”

“Ha. They could handle it.”

Darlene flipped the passenger mirror down, checking her makeup, which was, as always, immaculate. “I want to make a good impression.”

“You always make a good impression.”

Darlene’s smile was complicated. “That’s because I’m always