My heart pounds in my chest.
I’ve been watching this man for ages. I know what he likes—my ass—and what he hates—my age, my family, my wealth, my presumed immaturity, although that last point isn’t really fair.
But he doesn’t know that.
So this is like high noon at the O-K Corral, because we’re going to do this. One last show-down.
Not really the way a one-night stand should start. I shake my hair out and try to smile, but I’m nervous.
Hailey’s gotten my hopes up. Tell him what you want. Just like that, and she thinks it’ll work.
I think she’s insane.
But I’m genetically designed for bat-shit crazy. I’ve got this.
—four—
Scott
Alison is nervous. f*ck
me, she’s nervous.
I can handle her brassy. I can handle her coy. I can handle her waving lace panties in my face and promising she’ll wear them for me later.
I can’t handle her like this, raw and real and exposed.
It’s not fair, because I’m locked tight behind layers of lies, and she’s just shown me a sliver of herself straight through to her soul.
I don’t think of her as a kid. Not at all. She’s a woman, through and through, but she’s a young one, and right now, she’s wearing her heart on her sleeve.
I’m going to break her heart, and it’s going to hurt.
That little black dress swings around her hips and her hair bounces around her shoulders as she makes her way over to me. The whole picture is the definition of temptation. Long, smooth legs. Black heels. Bright eyes and lips with just a hint of shiny colour. Enough that my eyes are drawn to her mouth, but a promise that when I kiss her, all I’ll taste is eager, ready woman.
If. Not when I kiss her.
And not if, either.
I’m not going to kiss her.
Keep telling yourself that, Mayfair. I take a deep breath and shove my hands in my pockets to keep from pulling her close to me.
“Hailey’s calling Cole,” she says as she stops in front of me. Even with her in those gorgeous heels, I’m tall enough that I’m looking down at her. She’s small enough that she needs to tip her face up to talk to me, exposing that long stretch of creamy skin from her heart-shaped face down to her—
First step in not kissing her would be not looking at her perfect tits and the intoxicating shadow between them in the cleavage created by that bra she teased me with earlier, and the dress that, upon closer inspection, looked like it was offering her breasts up for a taste.
Second step would probably be not inspecting her God damned dress.
I nod and glance over her shoulder. “I’ll wait until he arrives, then I can escort you wherever you want to go next.”
A small smile twists at her lips. “Do you…” She trails off, then squares her shoulders. The nerves flee her face. She may be young and innocent, but she’s strong as steel at her core. “I want a cupcake.”
I don’t know what I was expecting her to say. That wasn’t it. “A cupcake? That’s all?”
She grins, her eyes crinkling, and she shakes her head. “Nope. That’s not all. But that’s what I want first. Can we do that?”
I glance back at her sister. Cole’s walking in the door behind Hailey. We make eye contact, and I nod, first at him, handing over his fiancée to his care, then again down at her little sister. “Yeah. We can get you a birthday cupcake.”
We hit a late-night bakery two blocks away, halfway back to the hotel, and end up buying a six pack because Alison can’t decide what she wants. At first it was lemon meringue, then chocolate raspberry, then vanilla bean… finally I just cut her off.
“We’ll take those four that she mentioned, and two of those Death by Chocolate ones.”
The girl behind the counter winks at Alison. “Your boyfriend likes chocolate, huh?”
Alison laughs and throws me a saucy look. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she says, her eyes dancing. “He’s just my booty call. I’m feeding him to be polite.”
I growl at her, which both women take as foreplay, and maybe it is. I hand over my credit card. “It’s her birthday. She’s not feeding me, it’s the other way round.”
“So that’s the only part of my statement you’re going to dispute?” she asks as we step back into the cold night.
I look at the cashmere wrap she’s holding tight around her body. “Are you warm enough?”
“No,” she says baldly. “But it’s not much further now.”
I stop and take off my jacket and sling it around her body. I’m not carrying my handgun this weekend, so I don’t need to keep it on, and two blocks of her shivering will just about kill me. “Come on, let’s get you back to the hotel.”
“But I need a coffee to go with the cupcakes,” she says with an innocent look.
“I know what you’re doing,” I mutter, steering her into Starbucks.
“What am I doing?”
“You’re turning this into a date.”
She laughs. “This is the world’s worst date. I promise that’s not what I’m doing.”
I snort.