“Listen, Martin is still attending because he’s the best man,” she explained. “We broke up two weeks ago and he wants me back. He won’t take no for an answer. There’s no way to avoid him here, so that’s where you come in.”
Mac’s dark brows drew in as the muscle ticked in his square jaw. “You told me you broke things off with him, but you never said why.”
“Well, you were gallivanting around the world—”
“In Barcelona.”
“And you didn’t return my call when I tried to reach you.”
“Because I was in a meeting when you called and your message said to come here.” Mac sighed. “Now, tell me what the hell is going on and why we’re dating, because if we are, my family needs to know. My sister will be thrilled.”
Jenna narrowed her eyes. “Now is not the time to be snarky.”
Mac crossed his arms over his massive, broad, extremely chiseled chest. She couldn’t help but stare as the material strained across his shoulders. They may be only friends, but that never stopped her from eyeing the goods. Mac made thirty-two look damn sexy.
“Martin was screwing his assistant.”
It hurt to say those words. Not because she’d been madly in love with him; they’d only been dating a few months. But to know he didn’t feel she was worthy enough for him to break up with first? Did men not consider women’s feelings anymore?
“He was a jerk anyway,” Mac commented. “Want me to rough him up?”
She laughed, though she knew he wasn’t kidding entirely. Rumors of the O’Sheas’ infamous ways of conducting “business” were strong enough that his words rang true. Mac’s father, Patrick, had passed away less than a year ago and the man wasn’t known for his gentle hand or kind mannerisms. Mac’s brother Braden had taken over as head of the family, and he and his fiancée, Zara, were much more personable, but Braden was still a formidable presence. He wasn’t a man to mess with, either, but had more tact, self-control—and quite possibly more power—than Patrick did.
“Seeing Martin in pain would be lovely, but no thanks.” Jenna patted his cheek and went on. “But since he has to be here, I refuse to have him believe I am available. As far as he’s concerned, I’ve moved on and I’m head over heels for you. He’s nothing but a bad memory.”
“And this is where my undying love comes in.”
Jenna swallowed hard. “If you want to put it that way, then, yes. But I really just need a favor without the sarcastic comments.”
Jenna didn’t want to think of Mac and love in the same sentence. That would be a cruel trick to play on herself. Yes, they’d been best friends since he tried to pick her up years ago at the party of a mutual friend. She’d blown him off, thinking there was no way a guy like that would ever find her attractive. Added to that, she’d been in Boston long enough to know the O’Shea name and hadn’t wanted to associate herself with people who were synonymous with “mafia” and “mob.”
Apparently he’d found her bold rejection appealing because he’d pursued her anyway. She’d told him she was a long-term type of girl, and he’d said he admired that but he wasn’t in the market for a relationship. Now she laughed at the fact that they were indeed long-term, but as friends only.
Jenna had to admit, he was like no other friend she’d ever had. She’d seen a side to him that didn’t seem ruthless or conniving at all. He made her laugh, made her relax. She didn’t know when the switch occurred, but one day she knew who her best friend was and that he would do anything for her. And his friendship wasn’t a bad connection to have. Mac wasn’t just a jet-setting playboy, his family owned auction houses around the globe, brought in billions each year and were a force to be reckoned with in the international business world.
Yet, after all these years of knowing him, she still wasn’t sure which side of the law the family truly operated on. Jenna had brought that topic up only one time in the past decade—a mistake she wouldn’t make again. She’d asked about his family business, why all the traveling and secrecy. Mac had turned almost cold and made it perfectly clear that topic was off limits and not to be approached ever again. Which is why she wasn’t asking about the Barcelona trip or the meeting he’d been in.
Mac stared at her for a moment, then hitched his hip onto the bamboo-and-wicker barstool at the island in the kitchen of her bungalow. “If your sister isn’t getting married for another week, why are we here now?”
Because her perfect sister wanted the perfect wedding to go along with her perfect life. Jenna loved her sister more than anything, but Amy seriously had it all. Jenna had...no. She wasn’t going to start down that path because she was happy for her sister and that’s why she was here. Jenna didn’t want to be the bitter bridesmaid simply because she had a cheating ex. Amy had actually found true love and this was going to be the best week of her life. She deserved perfect.
Jenna hadn’t told her family why she and Martin parted ways. A fake boyfriend would really go a long way to keep everyone all smiles until this wedding was over.
“Amy wants her wedding party and guests to enjoy the island. Kind of a mini-vacation for them and a giant party building up to the main event.”
When Mac didn’t say anything, Jenna sighed and tugged the top of her dress up another inch. Damn boobs. These little sundresses always looked so good on those plastic, size two models but were hard to pull off in reality.
“You don’t have to. I know it’s silly and desperate and ridiculous to ask—”
“What would you expect of me?” he asked, a naughty smile spreading across his face. “And don’t skimp on the details.”
Letting out an unladylike growl, Jenna rolled her eyes and marched through the luxurious hut and straight out the door leading to a small, straw-covered deck overlooking the crystal-blue water. Heavy footsteps sounded behind her and seconds later a familiar, firm hand settled over her shoulder.
“I’m not in the mood to be made fun of.”
With a gentle squeeze, Mac turned her around. “Fine. Tell me what you need me to do.”
She stared up into the emerald eyes she’d found herself getting lost in more than once. “You’ll have to stay in this hut with me.”
“Done.”
She swallowed. “There’s only one bedroom.”
His mouth quirked up. “Then try to keep your hands to yourself.”
“Can you focus?”
Jenna couldn’t help but laugh. He flirted with any woman between eighteen and death. He had no filter and she never took him seriously. The man loved life, loved women and loved his family. He was loyal to a fault. If she thought for even a second he could do long term, she could fall so easily for him. But she kept her heart guarded and firmly planted on the friendship side.
“I’m focused,” he insisted, holding his hands out. “One bedroom. I understand what we won’t be doing in there, so tell me what we’ll be doing outside our little house.”
“You’ll need to come to the evening events with me. There are only a few.” Jenna ran the list down in her head. “I’m doing all the flowers for the ceremony, so if you could make some trips with me to assist with the arrangements, that would look all boyfriend-ish. Oh, there’s the rehearsal dinner and ceremony, too, of course. But during the day, we may need to be seen on the beach together holding hands. I don’t know...doing lovey-dovey things.”
“Lovey-dovey? Whatever you mean by that, I can handle it.” He glanced