2. Anything for You
Anything for You
Mina
I duck behind the coffee bar and set about making two cappuccinos, sans poison, at least for the moment.
My mind races, trying to build a perfect fiancé in my brain. One who might exist in reality, should the need arise to fake an introduction.
How hard can it be?
There must be a man somewhere, who isn’t related by blood, willing to step up for the interim. I’m not a bog witch, for God’s sake.
“Morning, Mina.”
And just like that, the butterflies in my stomach commence fluttering because I know who that sexy drawl belongs to.
Braden Hammond.
Turning on my heel, I shoot Braden and Zane a smile as they lounge against the bar. “Be right with you guys.”
“Take your time.” Braden drags a hand through his hair, his gaze wandering around the bookstore interior, drinking in the slow hum of the customers as they browse.
He’s completely unaware of how stunningly and stupidly gorgeous he is .
And Zane is no slouch, either.
Both are aces in the looks department. Must be a requirement for working at the upscale tattoo shop.
Normally, I’d focus 100% of my attention on Braden—his forest green eyes, his crooked grin, his muscles flexing beneath his tattoos. He’s a delicious distraction, and since I’m always tongue-tied around him, looking and trying not to drool is about all I manage.
But today, I’m too focused on another matter—my cousin attempting to bullshit her way into ownership of the dance studio.
She has several advantages, too. Vanessa swings in the same social circles as Bitsy. She already possessed all the right connections and the proper pedigree. Now, she has a perfect fiancé to boot.
But looks can be deceiving.
Vanessa isn’t in love and despite the diamond weighing down her hand, she isn’t properly engaged, either.
How do I know? Because I saw her just two weeks ago in a tiny dump of a bar on the edge of town. I went there for line dancing. She was busy riding a cowboy.
So, unless Mr. Wall Street wears different hats on different days, it’s all a ruse. A plan to ensure the studio passes into the right hands, i.e., her hands.
The worst part is that my aunt is buying it.
“Ouch,” I yelp, jerking my hand back as the steam hits my skin. “Damn it.” I clasp my injured digits, the pain rushing up my arm.
Braden ducks beneath the counter and grabs my hand. He runs it under cool water before placing a tepid teabag against the injury. “Old trick my mom taught me. Helps to ease the burn.”
“Thank you.”
He lifts my hand to his mouth and gives it a gentle kiss. “ You’ve got to be more careful, sweetheart. Your hands are too pretty to scar up.”
I’m sure he’s just being nice, but the feel of his lips against my skin does something to me.
Doesn’t hurt that he hasn’t moved from my side yet.
Why don’t you ask Braden? Ash’s words flash through my brain as I stare at our intertwined digits and I realize he’s right.
It’s now or never.
“Will you help me?” My voice is barely above a whisper as my gaze darts toward my family.
“Of course. Whatever you need,” Braden replies.
“Don’t you want to know what it is first?”
A smile stretches across his face as he traces an idle design on my palm. “If you’re asking, it can’t be that bad.”
I glance back at the table; aware my aunt is watching the two of us with a great deal of interest.
What’s the worst that can happen, right?
I mean, outside of total mortification and never being able to look at Braden again.
Oh, and my aunt cackling with glee as she hands the studio keys to my cousin.
Braden ducks his head, his mouth near my ear. “Mina, what do you need?”
I pull in a fortifying breath and lift my chin, our lips mere inches apart. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
I don’t give him a chance to argue or ask for clarification.
Instead, I bury my fingers in his dark hair, manage a shaky smile, and then… I kiss him.
A jolt of adrenaline shoots through me as I press my mouth to his, daring to flick my tongue along the seam of his lips.
Braden’s breath catches as he stands frozen. He doesn’t touch me. Doesn’t move. And for one terrifying second, I fear he’s going to push me away .
But I refuse to break the kiss, desperate for any sign that I haven’t lost my mind completely.
Then it happens.
His hands settle on my waist as his mouth relaxes against mine. And then he takes over.
He cages me between the coffee bar and his broad chest, his hands drifting up to cup my jaw. I taste his hunger as he deepens the kiss and feel the tremble in his body as he presses me against the counter.
His tongue meets mine—slow and searching—coaxing a response I give him willingly.
With every passing second, I fall deeper into the moment.
The blood pounds in my ears as the din of the bookstore fades away, leaving nothing but the feel of his mouth against mine.
His mouth grows more demanding, more desperate, his beard scratching my skin as heat sparks through my veins, making my thighs clench in reflex.
A low moan escapes my lips as his hips press into mine, bold and sure.
He tastes better than any fantasy I’ve dared to have about this moment.
He’s perfect.
“Uh… Braden? Braden? Seriously, could you stop for a minute?” Zane’s voice cuts through the moment, and we tear apart.
My fingers fly to my kiss-swollen lips, acutely aware we just crossed a line.
Correction, I did, and now that Braden has a second to consider what just happened, he’s likely going to race out of here, never to return.
Congratulations, Mina. You just made the dumbest move of your life—with your dream guy.
Although it was also the hottest, most intense moment, too. Hands down .
Here’s hoping he doesn’t hate me forever.
Braden doesn’t move right away. One of his hands still rests on my waist, warm and heavy, like his body hasn’t gotten the message yet.
Then he blinks, dazed, and slowly steps back, biting his lip as he looks at Zane. “Wha—what?”
Zane’s eyes volley between us, a smile quirking his lips. “I’m heading back. I’ll see you two later.”
I have two choices, let Braden escape… or throw myself on the mercy of the court.
“Please don’t leave yet.” I rest my hands along his chest, daring to meet his gaze. “Can you play along for a few minutes? I’ll give you anything you want.”
I mean it, too. If he demands my soul as payment, I’ll deliver it gift-wrapped.
Braden’s gaze narrows as he grips the edge of the coffee bar. “What do you mean, play along?”
“That’s my family. My aunt, cousin, and my mom on the right,” I mumble, catching my lower lip between my teeth. “Just… pretend you’re in love with me. Can’t get enough of me. Like I’m the best damn thing you’ve ever seen.”
“Best thing ever, huh?” A smirk quirks the corners of Braden’s mouth and, once again, I’m replaying that intoxicating kiss.
No man should be that talented, which makes me wonder how good he is at everything else.
Color flushes my cheeks under his intense gaze. “Hey, I said pretend.”
I expect him to beg off, make a joke, something —but he glances toward the table and nods, like he instinctively knows what I need. “Okay.”
“Really?”
His face relaxes into a smile. “Like I said, Mina, anything for you. ”
We’re about to test that theory.
I grab his hand and lead him to the table, trying desperately to ignore my mother’s shocked expression.
Please Mom, don’t say a word. I beg of you.
“Braden, this is my Aunt Bitsy and my cousin, Vanessa.” I motion to each. “This is Braden Hammond… my fiancé.”
You know those moments where things could go either way? This is one of them.
Braden’s hand slips from my grasp and I draw in a breath, certain he’s about to drop the truth bombshell.
But he doesn’t.
He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close, dropping a soft kiss on my forehead.
Forehead kisses are one of my favorites. Especially when given by a gorgeous, tattooed man.
Although that kiss earlier?
That one is going down in history.
Focus, Mina. Stop thinking about Braden’s mouth for two minutes.
So not happening.
Braden nods toward my aunt, offering her a warm smile. “Pleasure to meet you both.”
My aunt looks Braden up and down before clicking her tongue against her teeth. “What is it you do, Braden?”
Braden jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “I work at Black Lotus.”
“Black Lotus?”
“Tattoo parlor next door.”
Her eyes widen and I see the gears turning in her head. She hates everything about Braden Hammond, from the tattoos littering his exposed arms to the hair hanging too low over his ears to the silver hoop in his nose.
And that realization makes me even more protective of the man.
I glide a hand along Braden’s chest, smiling up at him. Another thing I love? He’s taller than me and trust me, when you’re 5’9”, that’s not an easy accomplishment.
“Braden is the most amazing artist. You should see his animal designs. He did this one of a fox that is truly spectacular.”
“That’s one of my favorites, too.” His brows raise, seemingly surprised that I’m familiar with his work.
Braden, I know all the little details about you.
“So, you two are getting married?” Aunt Bitsy pinches the bridge of her nose, no doubt replaying the horror she felt when my mother announced her love for a mechanic.
Here’s what Bitsy doesn’t know. Braden is ridiculously smart and a great reader of people. He knows exactly what my aunt is trying to do, and he’ll be damned if she gets away with it.
She wants a show. He’ll give her one.
“That’s the plan. Unless she changes her mind, of course.” Braden squeezes my fingers and shoots me a crooked grin. “I have to prep for a client. Do you think we shocked your family enough for one morning?”
I bite back a laugh. “I’m sure they’re reeling.”
Braden offers my aunt and cousin a mock salute. “Nice meeting you two.”
Then he leans over and kisses my mom on the cheek. “Always a pleasure seeing you.” He stands and tilts my chin up with his finger. “And you, I’ll see tonight, okay?”
“Absolutely.”
Mischief dances in his eyes as he steals a quick kiss from my mouth. “You do not play fair.”
I watch him stroll out of One More Page, biting my lip as he blows me a kiss from the doorway.
Talk about an Oscar worthy performance.
One thing is for certain. Braden Hammond would be the world’s most perfect fiancé.
Too bad he isn’t mine in reality .
Vanessa drums her nails on the table and shakes her head. No doubt my fiancé has thrown a kink in her plans. “Cute, Mina. Is this your pathetic attempt to snag the dance studio?”
“No. This is me introducing my fiancé to my family. Can’t wait to meet Mr. Wall Street.” I fix Vanessa with a stony gaze. “Does he enjoy line dancing?”
It’s then my cousin realizes I’m on to her. Her face blanches beneath her spray tan as she squirms in her seat, fighting to regain the upper hand.
Sorry cousin, this round goes to me.
“Line dancing?” My aunt asks, her lips pursed in a thin line.
“Inside joke,” Vanessa mumbles.
I slide into a vacant chair and rest my chin on my hands. “So, what do you two think of Braden?”
“He’s… interesting. Colorful.”
Code for too trashy for Bitsy’s liking.
But I don’t argue with her. Instead, I lean into it. “You’re not kidding. Braden is amazing.”
Bitsy tosses down her napkin, her expression withering. “He’s a tattoo artist.”
Ori sets down the long-forgotten cappuccinos and muffins with a huff. Seems she overheard my aunt’s less-than-stellar description of Braden and stands poised to enter the conversation. “Braden makes a great living. Loves what he does. Owns a home. I don’t see a problem here.”
Bitsy blinks up at Ori, surprised by her uninvited entrance into our chat. “And what makes you an expert?”
“I’ve been around plenty of men and slept with plenty more. Both Hammond brothers are the epitome of good and decent men.”
Fire flashes in Ori’s eyes as she defends Ash and Braden.
No one talks trash about her man, unless it’s me and I only dared do that when he shattered my best friend’s heart.
Now that Ash is utterly devoted, I’m devoid of any malcontent. But I’m enjoying the hell out of watching Bitsy on the hot seat.
It’s about time.
“Personally, I’m thrilled for my daughter,” my mother replies. “Braden comes from a good family.”
“Really?” Bitsy’s sarcasm drips off that single word.
My mother sips her coffee and releases a slow breath. “Just because they’re not members of your country club doesn’t mean they aren’t upstanding citizens. One doesn’t need to be pompous to be worthwhile.”
My mother never, and I mean never , raises her voice. Seems even someone with the patience of a saint has their limits where Bitsy Farnsworth is concerned.
Bitsy isn’t used to being called on the carpet, especially not by us lowly blue collars. She taps her fingers on the table, motioning to Vanessa. “I look forward to spending time with you and Braden in the very near future. Until then.”
A snort of laughter sounds to my right, and I peel my eyes from my aunt’s retreating form to look at Ori. “What?”
“Didn’t know you had it in you. Here I thought you were shy and sweet. Little did I know, you’re a regular femme fatale, Mina.”
With a groan, I bury my head in my hands. “What was I thinking?”
“That you wanted to kiss Braden? About damn time, too.”
“Come on. Braden played it off right now because I begged him, and because he’s a nice guy.
There is no way he’s going to sign on for the duration of this fiasco, and you know Bitsy plans to put him through his paces.
” I huff out a breath as my headache makes a resurgence. “He’s going to hate me, isn’t he?”
“Of course not,” my mom and Ori respond in stereo.
But I have my doubts. About everything.
Ori pulls her phone from her pocket, a smile breaking across her face. “Time to face the executioner, love. ”
“What?”
She shoves the phone under my face.
There’s a message. From Braden.
I need to speak with Mina immediately. Can you send her over once she’s done?