The Best Man's Secret

"You look fkking beautiful tonight, Grace." I stared, wide-eyed, as he reached out to cup the side of my face. "But then, you always looked beautiful." My breath hitched, and my private part clenched when I recognized the telltale sign of damp panties.

"I would give anything to peck you right now," he breathed.

Maybe I wasn't as sober as I thought because a voice that sounded suspiciously like mine whispered, "So do it."

Harrison's nose flared, and his eyes melted into pools of lustful relief. "fkk, yes," he approved before he bent his head and slanted his mouth across mine

—

I followed at the back of the group, my eyes roaming the place as I entered. My mouth kicked up as I surveyed the familiar furnishings. T-shirts of different counties in Ireland lined the wall alongside photos of random Gaelic football teams. Guinness, Jameson, and Tullamore Dew posters hung around the wooden panel walls, and two hurling sticks crisscrossed the wall above the bar. There were tables and chairs littered around, as well as tall pub tables and bar stools. Towards the right of the bar was a stage and dance floor.

"Honey!" Amelia called out, walking fast towards the corner of the bar.

Oh great, the boys were already here. I couldn't handle seeing Harrison just yet, especially off the back of dealing with Jessica's winning attitude. Without glancing too closely at the group, I quickly made my way to the bar. A solo shot for courage was in order and then I planned on buying a tray of tequila shots for the girls. Harrison could buy his own crew their drinks.

As I motioned the bartender over and placed my order, I felt a tingle of awareness at the back of my neck. Sh1t, I was rumbled. And I knew precisely by whom.

"I'll get this, Pat," Harrison's deep voice sounded beside me. His forearm brushed against mine, causing the tiny hairs to rise. There was no reason for him to be standing this close. I faced him and used the change of body movement to discreetly move an inch away.

Harrison grinned down at me, the dimple popping on his cheek. He smelled good.

"It's okay, I'm getting these," I tightly replied. It was difficult being this close to Harrison without automatically batting my lashes up at him and flirting. That's what I usually did if someone of his caliber approached me at a bar.

"No, let me. You can get the next one if you like," he winked. The look in his eyes made it clear that my money card would not be used tonight. I shrugged and murmured a demure thanks. I was used to Southern male chivalry, so I would not protest a man buying me a drink. If he wanted to spend his money buying our party shots, that was on him.

I stood stiff and tense as Harrison signaled the bartender to add to my order, his rough timbre discernible without having to raise his voice over the loudness of the bar. His long fingers tapped against the bench, the tendons and veins mesmerizing me in their movements. He was just so annoyingly virile and strong. I hated it. Especially how they made my down-there parts feel.

I could sense his stare fixated on me, not bothering to be subtle like I had the decency to be. My body seared as self-consciousness trickled down my spine. So much for showing up here and making him eat his regrets.

"I love your hair." He reached out and stroked a strand briefly before dropping his hand back on the bar before I could protest. "It suits you. You look beautiful."

I cleared my throat, cursing the blush I felt on my skin for betraying my act of indifference.

Luckily, our bartender was quick on their feet with our order. Before we knew it, a crowded tray of tequila shots, lemon wedges, and a salt shaker was placed before us, ready to be consumed.

Harrison took charge, sliding the salt shaker and lemon wedge in front of me. Somehow, he knew I had planned on downing a solo shot of liquid courage before joining the group.

"Sláinte." He winked at me before tossing the shot back, never once breaking eye contact. Pink splotched my cheeks as I watched on, my breath labored.

He was so smooth with it, too. No coughing or eye-watering, and definitely no salt-licking or lemon wedge to suck on post-shot. A straight shooter.

He raised a brow at me, essentially throwing the gauntlet down. I shook my head to clear it.

Two could play at this game.

Needing to find myself on even ground with him, I decided to call to my inner siren. Feeling bold, I picked up one of the small glasses, ready to down it.

My blue eyes stayed on his as I slowly licked the hand holding the shot, before shaking the salt out. Wanting to remove the teasing glint in his gaze, I took another lascivious lick of my hand. Satisfaction warmed me when a smoldering focus quickly replaced that glint. To anyone else, my blatant display might have appeared cheesy and awkward. But given the way Harrison watched me with hooded eyes narrowed on my wet lips, I knew that the bar would have to crumble down before his gaze could be torn from mine.

I tossed my drink back and willed myself not to scrunch my face at the burn in my throat. That would defeat the purpose of my deliberate tease. Without breaking eye contact, Harrison held out the lemon wedge for me to take. Feeling emboldened under his enamored attention, I ignored his offer and instead leaned forward to suck the citrus wedge from his hand. The edges of my mouth brushed his fingertips, causing his pupils to dilate in unrestrained desire.

"Gracie," he groaned as if in agony. He stepped closer and bent his head. My breath suspended, unsure what his next move would be. Would he peck me?

His lips brushed my ear. "That was the hottest thing I have ever seen," he growled.

The warmth of his breath brushed the delicate shell of my ear, sending delighted shivers down my spine.

A glass breaking pulled me out of my stupor. The noise of the crowded bar entered my psyche, and I became aware of where I was. And who I was with.

What was I doing? I stepped back on shaky legs before grabbing the tray of drinks. "We should take these back before they start to revolt." I was proud of the calm tone in my voice even though I avoided his knowing gaze.

"Let me." He carefully lifted the tray out of my hands. It was probably for the best because even though my voice sounded stable, my hands definitely weren't. The group would not be happy if half their drink was pooled on the tray.

They all cheered as we approached, and I pasted on a bright grin. Liam, his brother Michael, James, two of his school buddies, and Harrison made up his party. Only Harrison and Michael were to be groomsmen, alongside Hannah and me as bridesmaids.

As the group mixed and mingled, more drinks were poured and served. We were all in good spirits, laughing and joking with the happy couple, who seemed to spend a lot of time with their lips locked. I was enjoying myself, too, even though I was very aware of Harrison's presence—and vice versa.

Every time I glanced up, my gaze was trapped by his. He would watch me unashamedly, his eyes hooded with focused intent. My heart was hammering a solid beat, and I could feel the alcohol loosening my inhibitions. Soon, my own eyes lingered and played with his. I couldn't stop myself from finding him, from remembering the feel of his hard body pressed up against mine at the bar. Or the warmth of his breath caressing my ear as he admitted how hot he found me.

Something in the back of my mind was pulling me back. Like some unseen force yanking on my collar, feet digging for purchase as it attempted to rein in my libido. It was the only thing stopping me from climbing over these couches to reach him.

The live band started to set up, so I decided to take a quick trip to the ladies' room before they started their performance. Maybe the change in scenery would do me good and keep my intrusive thoughts about a certain hot and out-of-bounds Best Man at bay—or squash them completely.

The bathroom was located upstairs in a quiet section of the bar. The welcome transition to a calm sensory environment helped sober me up a little, and I took my time washing my hands and fluffing my new hair in the mirror.

Once done, I strolled out before jerking to a comical stop when I spotted Harrison leaning against the wall, clearly waiting for me.

"If I were a betting man, I would put money down on you avoiding me," he drawled.

I laughed a little too loudly. "Don't be silly. I haven't seen some of them in years. I was just busy catching up."

He smirked at my answer, obviously recognizing it for the lie that it was. Slowly, he stalked towards me. "You look fkking beautiful tonight, Grace."

I stared, wide-eyed, as he reached out to cup the side of my face. "But then, you always looked beautiful." My breath hitched, and my private part clenched when I recognized the telltale sign of damp panties.

"I would give anything to peck you right now," he breathed.

Maybe I wasn't as sober as I thought because a voice that sounded suspiciously like mine whispered, "So do it."

Harrison's nose flared, and his eyes melted into pools of lustful relief. "fkk, yes," he approved before he bent his head and slanted his mouth across mine.

I eagerly opened my mouth under his and felt his tongue sweep inside. He tasted like sin and spice, with a hint of the beer he had been drinking. I moaned, unable to stop myself, as I angled my head back under his peck.

My hands clenched around his waist as his sizable palms framed my face, his fingers stroking my cheeks and jaw. Lips ravaged lips, and tongues dueled in frantic urgency.

I would be lying if I claimed that I never wondered what it would be like to peck Harrison. And if he weren't the best peck I'd ever experienced. It figured that he would look like a intercourse god and also peck like one. Lord knows what he would be like in bed.

Not that I planned on finding out.

But as Harrison moved me a few steps until my back hit a wall, his mouth still fused with mine, I wasn't entirely sure I could resist the temptation.

Especially when he tore his mouth from mine and moved his lips down the side of my face, pressing feverish pecks up and down my neck. His breath was labored from our passionate embrace, and my own breathing came out in hot, short pants.

My eyes closed in pleasure as I thrust his shirt up and caressed his smooth back, taking delight in the way his muscles moved under my strokes.

"Feel how much I want you, baby," Harrison panted in my ear. He moved his hands down around my waist, squeezing my hips through my dress.

My hands were also busy, moving up to his broad shoulders as I tilted my head to the side, silently consenting him to administer more hot pecks against my neck.

His big hands roamed down to my hip, palming it while grinding my lower half closer to his body.

I could feel how much he wanted me.

His shaft was hard and felt... oh, god, it was fkking magnificent. He looked like a intercourse god, pecked like a intercourse god, and most likely had the shaft of one. Some people really were first in line when God was handing out traits.

All coherent thought left me as Harrison started grinding my private part against his front, his long fingers digging into my hip cheeks. My panties were soaked, rendered useless against the onslaught of his touch.

I started unconsciously moving my hips against his shaft, mimicking the very act that I was dead set against doing with him. The friction of his pants felt like heaven against my cloth-covered mound.

I grabbed his head in my hands and directed his mouth back to mine. There was no pause as he eagerly returned my peck. His mouth felt hard and punishing against mine, desperately eating at my lips, sucking my tongue over and over and over. I was so close to coming that I blacked everything out. I didn't care that we were in public and anyone could see us—and since we were out in the open, I was pretty sure a good few who needed the bathroom received quite an eyeful.

But I didn't care.

All I cared about was reaching that peak of pleasure. And as long as Harrison kept pecking and grinding me just right, that would happen...Ah yes, there...right there–

"Oh, my God!" A loud squeal abruptly pulled us apart, our chests heaving and hair disheveled.

I peeked over Harrison's shoulder and spotted a grinning Amelia. I cursed and yanked my dress down while Harrison stayed covering me with his back to Amelia, his reasoning obvious.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt," Amelia sang out. "I swear, I didn't see anything. Carry on!"

She covered her eyes and stumbled forward with one hand stretched out in front of her as she tried to find her way to the ladies' room.

"Oh, my gosh, Amelia, uncover your eyes!" I grabbed Harrison by the arm and dragged him to the stairs. "We're going back down; I don't want to tell Liam why you cracked your head."

After ensuring that Ameilia made it safely into the bathroom, I hurried down the stairs with Harrison hot on my heels.

"Gracie, wait!"

"That was a mistake!" I hissed. "Blame it on the alcohol or whatever, but that can't happen again."

"Can't or won't?"

I turned on my heel and poked my finger at Harrison's chest. "Both!"

Harrison grabbed my hand and held on tight. "That was a long time comin', sweetheart. And believe me, it won't be the last," he warned.

I rolled my eyes despite my heart kicking up a few beats at his words. "Think what you like. C'mon, let's go back to the rest of the group before they send out a search party. And not a word to anyone, Harrison!"

"Believe me, what I want to do and say to you I prefer to be done in private."

I glared at him before storming off in the direction of our group. I knew it wasn't fair to be pissed at him when I was more than a willing participant. But I was kicking myself that I had pecked and fondled Harrison frickin' O'Connor that I needed to direct my anger somewhere.

As I approached our table, a tall, willowy blonde caught my eye. She had on a tight red dress and black heels. My stomach dropped. I knew that body. After all, I had just seen it a few hours ago.

"Harrison!" Jessica gasped when she spotted us coming towards her.

Her shrewd gaze darted between Harrison and me, taking note of our disheveled hair and swollen lips. Her mouth tightened in displeasure before quickly clearing. An overly bright smile smoothed her features as she traced our approach.

God, I needed another drink.

"fkk!" Harrison said under his breath when he spotted her. "fkk, Grace, I don't know what she's doing here. I swear–"

"Why you feel you need to explain yourself to me, I have no idea."

"You know why. Stop acting indifferent. I haven't spoken to Jessica in a long time."

"Well, then you have heaps to catch up on." I wasn't jealous, although I refused to examine the relief I felt knowing that Harrison wasn't currently hooking up with Jessica.

"Oh, Harry!" Jessica cooed. "I've missed you! I've gotten so used to seeing you every day and having lunch together."

Aaaand I was out. I crossed directions to the bar. I was only going to order cranberry juice because the last thing I needed was more alcohol to impair me.

"Sooo." Ameila's voice cut through my thoughts, and I cursed at her timing. "Care to enlighten me on what that was?"

I was starting to regret the alcohol ban.

"Leave it, Meils. It was just a drunken peck, that's all."

"Didn't look like "just a peck" to me. If I arrived thirty seconds later, I would have a view of his hip pounding you into–"

"Okay, thank you, I get it."

She leaned on the bar, her shoulder pressed against mine. "Would it be so bad?"

I let out a choked laugh. "Yes! Amelia, not only is he the Best Man, he's Liam's new best friend–"

"Actually, they've been close for years."

"Well, whatever. He's also the man who bullied me relentlessly for years; I mean, three weeks ago, I still hated his guts. And even if he wasn't my mortal enemy, even if I started up something with him, I'm going to go back to San Francisco. And then what? Keep bumping into him every time I come back?"

"Or you can stay here?"

I snatched up the glass of cranberry juice and took a large gulp. I had heard this plea from her before.

"No. My area of expertise is needed in big cities. Even if I wanted to move back, I wouldn't find work here or in any of the surrounding towns that utilize my skills."

Her heavy sigh was wrapped in disappointment, even though my answer was expected. "Would a casual fling be so bad, then? He's always asked about you while you were away. I think he's always harbored a secret crush."

"That's the problem, Amelia. If he felt that way, secret is the keyword. He didn't have the guts to stop bullying me or to tell his friends to stop. So even if he did like me back then, he didn't have the balls to do anything about it."

Amelia's face dropped. She knew I was right.

"Besides." I tipped my glass towards the corner where our party was congregated.

"Looks like Jessica is eager for that fling. Shouldn't be too hard for him, considering their history."

Amelia glanced over just in time to catch Jessica leaning into Harrison to utter God knows what in his ear.

My stomach lurched.

Amelia simply snorted in dismissal. "They broke up not long after high school. If you can call whatever they had a relationship. She's been eager to sink her teeth back into him ever since." She turned back to me. "I've never seen him take the bait."

I shrugged, attempting to appear unbothered. "Let's not talk about it anymore. This is your night. And Liam, of course. Let's dance, this band is great!"

Amelia knew when to let sleeping dogs lie, so she simply grinned and let me drag her onto the dance floor. I sunk into the gyrating crowd, determined to avoid Harrison for the rest of the night.

The band was playing a cover of a popular rock song, and I lost myself in the music, letting the rhythm wash away my conflicted feelings. Amelia and I danced together, joined by Hannah and the other bridesmaids. The floor was packed with bodies moving to the beat, making it easy to pretend I didn't notice Harrison watching me from across the room.

"They're playing our song!" Liam appeared suddenly, grabbing Amelia's hand and twirling her. She laughed as he pulled her into his arms, her face glowing with happiness.

I smiled at the couple, genuinely happy for my best friend. The band had shifted to a slower song, and couples were pairing up around me. I took this as my cue to retreat to the bar for a refill on my cranberry juice.

"Dance with me," a familiar voice said behind me. I didn't need to turn to know it was Harrison.

"I think Jessica is looking for a dance partner," I replied, keeping my eyes fixed on the bartender.

Harrison moved to stand beside me. "I don't want to dance with Jessica."

"Funny how you didn't have that problem in high school." The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His jaw tightened. "That was a long time ago, Grace."

"Not long enough," I muttered, taking my drink from the bartender.

Harrison gently turned me to face him. "One dance. That's all I'm asking for."

I should have said no. Every logical part of my brain was screaming at me to walk away. But something in his eyes—vulnerability mixed with determination—made me hesitate.

"Fine. One dance."

He smiled, taking my drink and setting it on the bar before leading me to the dance floor. His hand was warm against my lower back as he guided me through the crowd. When we reached a small clearing, he turned to face me, pulling me closer.

I tried to maintain some distance between us, but as his arms wrapped around my waist, my resolve weakened. I rested my hands on his shoulders, careful not to get too comfortable.

"You really have no idea, do you?" Harrison said after a moment of silence.

"About what?"

"How much I've thought about you all these years."

I laughed, but it sounded hollow even to my own ears. "That's hard to believe considering how you treated me."

"I was an idiot," he admitted. "A stupid, immature kid who didn't know how to handle his feelings."

"So you pulled my pigtails instead? Come on, Harrison."

"I know it sounds cliché, but..." He sighed, his breath warm against my hair. "I didn't know how to tell you I liked you, and by the time I figured it out, it was too late. You hated me."

The admission hung between us as we swayed to the music. I wanted to dismiss his words, to protect myself from the vulnerability creeping into my heart.

"Why now?" I finally asked. "Why wait until I'm back for a wedding to suddenly decide it's time to confess your feelings?"

"Because I'm afraid if I don't tell you now, I'll never get another chance." His eyes searched mine. "You're going back to San Francisco, and I'll be left wondering what might have happened if I'd been brave enough to say something."

The song ended, but neither of us moved. Around us, couples began to break apart as the band launched into a faster tune.

"One dance," I reminded him, stepping out of his embrace. "That was the deal."

Harrison nodded, though disappointment flickered across his face. "Can we talk later? Somewhere quieter?"

"I don't think that's a good idea." I glanced over his shoulder, spotting Jessica watching us with narrowed eyes. "Besides, you seem to have other admirers waiting."

"Grace—"

"I'm going to check on Amelia." I turned away before he could say anything else, weaving through the crowd until I found my friend at a table with Liam and some of the other wedding party members.

As I sat down, trying to calm my racing heart, my phone buzzed in my purse. I pulled it out, expecting a message from my mom or someone from work.

Instead, the screen displayed a text from an unknown number:

We're not finished talking about this. Meet me on the patio in 10 minutes. —H

I stared at the message, wondering how he'd gotten my number. Probably from Amelia. I should ignore it. I should put my phone away and focus on having fun with my friends.

But even as I tried to convince myself to forget about Harrison and his confessions, I knew I'd be heading to the patio in exactly ten minutes.