“I didn’t say anything was wrong.” She shook her head, unsure what prompted his question. “Actually, I thought things were going pretty well.”

“Yeah?” He glanced over her shoulder again as they danced.

“Don’t you?” She cupped his jaw and gently turned his face back to hers.

“It’s fine. I appreciate you holding up your end of the deal. I’m sure this is boring as hell for you.”

She blinked. Where was the passionate man who’d made her see stars last night? Where was the man who had given her courage when her own father cut her down? He wasn’t in her arms. That much was certain.

“Paul, I’m trying to tell you something.” She sighed, tension coiling her body tight like a spring.

“Then spit it out.”

She closed her eyes. “I love you.”

“What?” He jerked in her arms, reeling back as if she’d slapped him.

The three words swirled in her mind as loud as a raging storm, but her heart couldn’t put them out there again, not when he looked at her like that. “I had to say it. I need to know if…if you feel the same.”

He stood stock-still in the middle of the bustling dance floor. Only when curious stares came from the other wedding guests did he step back into her arms, though she may as well have been holding a plank of wood.

“Libby, we agreed not to go down that path.” He shook his head as if trying to shake her words away. “No emotions, right?”

“We said no sex, too, but you didn’t seem to have a problem with that.” Pain spiraled through her uncontrollably, her breath caught in her throat.

“Neither did you, if memory serves me correctly.” His mouth set into a firm line, and he avoided her gaze. “I didn’t force you into anything.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t feel anything for me,” she said. “I know I take risks, but they’re not on a whim. I’ve thought about this, I’ve analyzed it.”

Silence. They moved awkwardly to the music as she waited for his response.

“Answer me, Paul. Is this relationship totally fake?”

He let out a breath. “Yes.”

Libby’s eyes lowered, and she nodded slowly. The disappointment on her face scythed through him like a blade. He should never have crossed the line with her knowing he wouldn’t be able to be the man she wanted.

Lying to her was torture, but it was for the best. She was a brilliant, intelligent, and passionate woman who deserved more than a bartender who failed so badly at relationships that he drove people away. Drove them toward other people. Deep down he knew Libby would never cheat on him the way Sadie had, but she would become unhappy and eventually leave. Knowing how much he felt for her now, before they’d even fully explored the potential of each other, would mean her leaving would kill him. Whether it happened in six months, a year, five years…he couldn’t take it.

“Here I was thinking that your speech last night was about me. How naive is that?” She steeled herself, tilting her face up to his and setting her shoulders back.

“It’s not naive.”

“Yes, clearly it is. Because if it wasn’t you’d be telling me the truth right now.”

“The truth?”

“You do feel something for me, I know I didn’t imagine it. But for some reason you’re too frightened to admit it.” Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glimmering. “Or do you think you’ll get bored only being with one woman?”

“You want the truth?” He struggled to stay calm amid the melange of emotions battling inside him. “I was ready to propose to Sadie. I’d picked out the ring, and I was going to lay myself on the line for her.”

She didn’t say anything, but he saw the flicker of her eyes, the softening of her lips. Pity. Empathy. Two things he neither wanted nor deserved.

“I would have given her everything, and it wouldn’t have been enough. Now I know not to go down that path in the first place. I’m not cut out for relationships.”

“But you are,” she said, her eyes wide and pleading.

“Libby,” he growled, the emotion he’d tried so hard to pack down bubbling up inside him like hot lava. “Don’t.”

She swallowed “Don’t what?”

“Try to make me believe. I’m doing the right thing by both of us.” He sighed. “I’m keeping us to our agreement.”

“How very noble of you,” she spat. “But it’s complete crap. What you’re actually doing is punishing me for her mistakes…and I deserve better than that.”

The chatter and cheer of the crowd drowned out the rest of her words, though there was no mistaking her feelings from the look on her face. Her eyes narrowed at him, the scrutiny making his skin itch.

What could he say? If he told the truth about how he felt she’d want to pursue it, to understand his feelings, to ask questions. All of those things would strip him back, make him vulnerable to her. Sadie was right, he didn’t want what they wanted. Right now he wanted to protect them both from the future disappointment.

A squeal of a microphone cut through the air, and the emcee announced it was time for speeches. Before he knew what was happening, a cocktail was thrust into his hand: the pink Bellini made from Libby’s vodka and his recipe. Their first creation as a team.

She looked at him, analyzing and cataloging his every movement. The glimmer of hope in her eyes slayed him. He’d extinguish that flame, like he had with Sadie.

“I have to go,” he said touching her shoulder lightly. “It’s speech time.”

She flinched. “Go. I’ll be ready to play happy fiancée when you get back. Enjoy it, because after this I’m outta here.”

Better now than later.

Chapter Sixteen

The surface of the bar was smooth beneath his hands. Paul looked out over the restaurant, surveying the boxes displaying Libby’s logo piled up on the tables. Tonight Libby Gal Cocktails had its official launch at First.

But he’d be gone before the first champagne cork popped.

It’d been a month since the wedding. Des had delayed the launch until he returned from his honeymoon to ensure he could endorse the product in person. He’d wanted to give Libby the best possible chance of exposure and, since the article in Gastronomy magazine had exploded, his word meant something in the industry.

A few days after Des had returned from Europe, Paul broke the news to him and the whole family. He and Libby had not only broken up, but they’d never really been engaged.

Spilling the whole truth had been her idea. It was the single source of contact he’d had with her since the wedding. An email requesting he tell his family the truth so she could front up to Des and give him the option to back out. She said she’d wanted her business to succeed without lies.

His mother was devastated, and Des had been understandably angry. But he’d grown to like Libby enough to hash it out with her personally, and he hadn’t spilled a word of their conversation to Paul.

You broke up with her for a reason, so move on. Stop thinking about her.

To keep his mind off the gaping hole Libby’s absence made in his life, he’d thrown himself into setting up the mixology school. Business plans, budgets, and forecasts had become his language. He was going to make this idea work no matter what it took.

No matter how many stupid details he had to wade through.

“It’s time we had a talk about my idea,” Paul said as he leaned against the bar and shoved thoughts of Libby aside.

The thoughts would be back, he knew it. But he had to try.

Des watched him from the corner of his eye as he scribbled a note onto the staff roster. “Is that so?”

“Yep.” He nodded. “I’m ready to take it seriously.”

“Good.” Curiosity colored his brother’s expression. “What caused that?”

Paul reached for the printed plans he’d stashed in a folder behind the bar and handed one to his brother. “I realized that I needed something more in my life than what I have now, and I need to fight for it. I thought I was sick of trying to prove myself, but I realized it wasn’t about that. It’s about giving myself my best shot at success.”