Free A Matchless Romance (Aisle Bound) by Christi Barth

Village, a Mexican high jumper showed him how to make coffee like this, and Drew loved it. “Besides, sex is a distraction I can’t afford, especially right now.”
    Tabitha swished away a few steps, paused, then swished back. “If this was you, trying your hardest, then I’ve gotta say—I’m pretty close to giving up on you. It isn’t going well.”
    Drew jerked, sloshing coffee all over the pristine white tablecloth. It had only been one day. And she was his only hope. He couldn’t let her call it quits. “But it wasn’t. The only thing I did different was get dressed up. You told me to be myself.”
    “True.” Her eyes narrowed and her tiny nose crinkled. Drew ignored the total cuteness of her expression. Mostly. After all, he was focused, not blind. He barreled on.
    “And this is the worst possible place to do that. I’ve never been to a wedding before. I don’t go to fancy dinners and make small talk. You tossed me into this without any hints at how to survive. Basically,” he set his legs wide and crossed his arms, “you set me up for failure.”
    “So what do you suggest?” she asked, drumming long purple nails that matched the flowers in the centerpieces. “I should come and watch you in your natural habitat? Like doing a photo safari of a leopard on the savannah?”
    Tabitha might be teasing, but Drew seized on her words. “Exactly. Come watch me at marathon training tomorrow. It’s co-ed. You can see how I interact with women there. Then you’ll have enough information to figure out a plan to get me up to snuff. Just don’t give up on me yet.”
    He realized he’d grabbed her hands at some point. Her soft, small hands that fit inside his. And that she was close enough he smelled her perfume. Something flowery and sultry at the same time. The scent burrowed straight from his nose down to his dick. He’d need to run an extra half mile tomorrow. Hell, considering all the times he’d looked at her tonight and batted back a surge of lust, he’d need to leave his car here and run all the way home to clear his brain. Instead, Drew lowered his head for another sniff.
    Tabitha’s eyelids flared wide, as if she sensed danger. For a split second, Drew contemplated tossing his pride out the window. Risking the inevitable rejection just for the chance to steal a single kiss. Wondered if there was a chance she might just kiss him back. Then she pulled her hands out of his and took a step back. “Fine. I’ll meet you tomorrow. But stay off the dance floor. And keep out of trouble.”
    Only way to do that would be to keep away from the all-too-tempting Tabitha.

Chapter Four
    Milo dropped into a crouch, his butt almost touching the white sand of the Ohio Street Beach. “Tabby, make it stop,” he moaned.
    “Which? Your pounding headache? The feeling of fur crawling across your tongue?” She looked down at his obvious bedhead in disbelief. It said a lot about his level of misery that Milo would leave the house looking so disheveled. For God’s sake, the man was wearing sweatpants and a faded Wicked sweatshirt. “Or the borderline nausea induced by the last two rounds of berry vodka shots you insisted would ‘seal Ivy and Ben’s love forever’?”
    “All of it.” He ground the heels of his hands against his eyes. “The sunshine feels like a fire-tipped whip on my eyeballs.”
    “How very melodramatic of you. Here’s a novel approach. Put these on.” Tabitha pushed his sunglasses off the top of his head—where he’d insisted they looked sportier nestled in his lilac-tipped hair—to land on the bridge of his nose. Neither of them looked anything above exhausted and uber-casual. Not that it mattered at nine on a Sunday morning at the deserted lakeshore. In an attempt to soothe her danced-out feet, Tabitha wore sneakers with her yoga pants and ancient UNLV sweatshirt.
    “You’re very unsympathetic,” he huffed.
    Yep. Because she’d missed out on a second piece of cake while she tried to