Chapter 17 Puppy Love （Lena） #2
The Lab happily confirms it about twenty minutes later, after I’ve cleaned up and clocked out, by putting her head above the back seats and grinning at us, tongue flopping on the way home.
“She’s one lucky pup, with the richest foster dad in Seattle,” I say with a sigh.
He smiles at me, the corners of his eyes creasing and those blue eyes flashing like lightning.
No mortal should be actually perfect.
I keep waiting for a land mine, thinking I’ll trip on some fatal flaw that will blow my silly crush to pieces.
But so far, there’s nothing.
The vortex of Brady Pruitt just keeps spinning, pulling me deeper, and soon the only one to blame for the impending heartbreak will be me.
I can’t fall in love.
The thought is alarming, but it’s there, roots twisting through my brain until they crowd out everything else.
Nice reverse psychology, Lena.
But I’m not sure anything could persuade my dumb heart.
A few weeks in, and I’m dangerously close to catching feelings.
And he’s oblivious to the minor breakdown I’m having right next to him as he hands me his phone and tells me to pick out some music for the drive.
With the windows down and a soft summer breeze kissing our faces, this feels like a movie scene.
You know the one, where the jaded woman who’s been beat around before by love falls for the jock, and everything is perfect—right before the world comes crashing down.
Brady glances at me and reaches over, resting his hand lightly on my thigh. His long fingers curve along my inner thigh, and—
I’m blushing.
Even though we’re in public, at a stoplight in thick evening traffic, with a rescued dog in the back seat, I’m swooning.
Flipping swooning.
And I don’t swoon.
Honestly, it’s embarrassing he has that power. But the giddy buzz in my veins tells me I want him to keep touching me.
Keep the illusion alive just a little while longer.
His fingers press lightly against my skin until I can feel his pressure.
He glances in the rearview mirror, out the window, and then at me, mouthing along to the song I’ve put on—Sabrina Carpenter.
I didn’t even know he was a fan.
But there’s a fire in his eyes, the same way the sun gleams off the mountains as it slips toward the horizon. There’s also an ache between my thighs.
Then he gives me that lazy, heart-shredding smile and moves his hand down to my knee, only releasing me when I’m nearly biting my lip through.
He puts his hand on the wheel again.
And I’m left wondering how the hell any girl can ever resist this without losing her mind.
It’s only Queenie’s first night in Brady’s penthouse, and they’re already inseparable.
She has her bed set up in his room, slumped across it with her head up, looking at us. Every time we look at her, the dog’s tail thumps for attention, but otherwise she’s content.
That makes two of us.
I’m perfectly happy to stay where I am, nestled in Brady’s arms.
He drops a kiss on the end of my nose, which shouldn’t make me want to giggle and squeal the way it does.
Thank God my filter is titanium.
“I’m glad you’re off tomorrow,” he says.
“I know this is a foreign concept to you, but I get days off.”
“Brat, that’s not what I mean. Tomorrow’s important.” He smacks my butt, looking briefly distracted before returning his gaze to my face again.
“Is it?” I frown, trying to remember why it’s so big.
“The charity event I told you about.” He takes a lock of my hair in his fingers and flicks it back and forward.
“Oh, right. Sorry, nurse brain. What’s this thing again?”
“An excuse to meet my father.”
Queenie looks at us curiously, wagging her tail. She must notice the way my body tenses.
“It’s okay, girl,” I say.
“The old man softened up after my mother raved about you,” he says. “For him, it’s a rare public appearance. He doesn’t do them often since he had his heart attack. If he wants me to show up with my girl in front of the local money circle, that’s giant.”
Is he staring through the wall?
I’m actually nervous.
But I also know I can’t refuse.
This is his life, and I signed up for it the minute I agreed to the sham and put my name on that contract.
These are his parents, including what sounds like a hard-ass dad who won’t be so easy to convince.
I think about his reputation again, and my stomach flips. Not in the cutesy way that means attraction and yummy things.
“If you’re game, it’ll mean the world for the family business. Lots of big players there,” he says, still playing with my hair.
Of course. Networking. Critical to high society.
I try to smile, cursing how weak it is.
“It should be fine. I have lots of practice playing your fiancée by now.” I force a smile.
“Don’t need you to be anything but yourself, Sass.”
“But you do,” I insist, leaning forward so he meets my eyes. “You need me to be polished and on point, ready to make your dad love me. Or at least believe we’re in love.”
That won’t be difficult to fake.
My stomach lurches again, and I lock that thought away.
He smiles, though it’s not his usual rakish grin. It’s softer, lighting his eyes sky blue until I’m a gooey marshmallow.
“Lena, my dad will love you the way you are. Be yourself. He’s a beast—always has been—but Alec Pruitt respects strength. You don’t have to change shit.”
“No, but I should have my shit together.” I smile.
He kisses me then, his teeth tugging at my lower lip. “Just the way you are, woman. You won Mom over caked in mud.”
“Will you ever let me live it down?”
“Nah. And if you can impress when you’re dirtied up, this should be a cakewalk.” Another kiss turns me to jelly. So does the way he squeezes my ass. “No buts. None except this one.”
I shudder.
There’s definitely a but that has nothing to do with how his hands make me feel.
From what I’ve gathered from Brady plus my own online sleuthing, Alec Pruitt hasn’t ever approved of much in his life. The only reason he wants to meet me now is because his wife wore him down.
That’s not being receptive.
That’s no guarantee he won’t be holding a shotgun to Brady’s face, and to mine.
I have to dazzle if we want this to work.
“I’m not sure how these things work, but I’ve always heard a lot of business goes on between throwing money around. Are you going to be approaching people about your project?” I ask between kisses.
“My pet food venture, you mean?” He pauses and looks down at me.
“Yeah, that’s the plan. The pressure’s less intense to stand in for all of Pruitt Ag with Dad there.
I won’t big-deal it. A few polite pitches to the people who typically show up when there’s enough money in the room to choke an elephant.
A few willing suppliers who could help get this off the ground faster, even if there’s a long way to go before we get to that point. ”
Just like I thought.
It’s doubly important I’m on my best behavior.
And he knows it, too, judging by the way he asked and the stark reassurance in every kiss.
Seeing Brady nervous leaves my heart in shambles.
So, I take his face in my hands, looking him deep in the eyes so he knows how serious I am.
“I won’t let you down, Brady.”
“I know. Never an option with you.” His smile is all butter, and his hand slides through my hair.
This time, when he kisses me and his hands roam wild, we don’t stop until I’m a screaming mess.