Chapter One #3
The back door finally opened, and a pint-sized girl with black curls, lots of curves, and a ring on her finger stepped down from the truck. The platter she balanced on one hand was almost as big as she was.
Not Legs and off limits, but which voice did she belong to? Sultry Jo or Twangy Viv?
She turned to wait for Legs and gave him his answer when she opened her mouth to ask, “When’re you gonna tell her to shove her ol’ petit fours where the sun don’t shine? Me and Theo are countin’ the days ’til we can come work for you.”
“The bank said no, so unless you know where I can find a money tree, we’ll have to stick it out with Giselle.” Legs’ seductive rasp and a tray of little white cakes preceded a pair of sticks he could now pick out of a lineup. Legs he could imagine wrapped around him. Christ, his dick flexed.
As she shut the door, he rounded the corner of the van. “Good evening, ladies.”
Both women startled.
Viv recovered first, eyeing him with unconcealed interest. “Good-lookin’, you mean, cuz you’re a whole lotta that, mister.”
Her cohort however…
“You.” The word dripped with acid, and glacial blue eyes narrowed on him.
Making an allowance for her less than gracious welcome—she was obviously having a bad night—Avery let the smile tugging at his lips go full tilt and aimed it at Viv. “Thank you, Ms.…”
She blushed a bright pink.
“It’s just Viv,” she said.
“Might I have a word with your friend?” He winked. “In private?”
That got him a third eyeroll. “I’ve heard all I can stomach from you tonight.”
Legs swept around Viv, and Avery did the same, blocking her exit. The tray she carried teetered, but somehow, she righted it. “Watch it.”
“Should I call security?” Viv asked, taking a wary stand beside her friend.
She balanced the tray in one hand and fished a phone from her pocket with the other, then leaned closer.
“He’s mighty pretty and looks like a real good time, but if he ain’t to your likin’, I’ll make a call. You just say the word.”
He held up both hands. “I promise to be good.”
“I’ll just bet you are,” Viv muttered under her breath.
Haven’t had a complaint yet.
Legs closed her eyes, sucked in a long breath, and let it out slowly. She turned to Viv and held out the tray. “Would you mind taking this inside so I can find out what Mr. Preston wants?”
“Oh, I know exactly what he wants.” One brow climbing her forehead, Viv gave him a once-over as she repocketed the phone and took the tray from Legs. “Mr. Preston, huh?”
“It’s just Avery,” he insisted, offering a mock bow.
Viv chuckled. “Okay, Just Avery. I’m getting’ good vibes from you, and I’m not usually wrong, but I know where to find you if I am.”
He saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.”
When Viv was out of sight, Legs folded her arms under her breasts and inspected him, not bothering to hide her disgust. “What can I do for you?”
He could think of so many ways to answer that, but he had a feeling he had to play this one differently. Besides, she seemed angry with him. Why was that anyway? He hadn’t done anything to her. Yet.
Maybe she was playing hard to get. Or “come and get me.” Some girls liked to be chased. Or maybe… Damn, had they already—
Nah, no way. The odds of hitting on two women he’d fucked and forgotten in the same night were—he made a quick calculation—one in a million, give or take a few K.
Eh, I’ll take those odds.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. This one would take a little more finesse. “It’s not about what you can do for me. It’s about what I—” Muffled voices came from the veranda, and he recognized one of them. “Fuck.”
His mom stood at the top of the steps talking to Giselle. About the menu? Or was she still looking for him? And here he was breaking her fucking rules.
Self-preservation kicking in, he grabbed Legs, opened the back door of the van, and thrust her up the steps. He ducked in after her and shut them in as quietly as he could.
“What the—”
“Shhhhh,” he shushed into hair that smelled like cake batter. “Be still.”
She gasped as he flattened her against a bank of cabinets. Not entirely necessary with the dark tint of the back windows, but this was him playing it subtle, and fuck, she felt good in his arms, soft in all the right places.
“Get your hands off me.” The heels of her hands dug into his pecs. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Saving us both.” He angled his head toward the clubhouse.
She stretched to look through the tinted window, her grapefruit-sized tits mashing against his shirt.
“Oh.” The pressure of her hands lessened as soon as she spotted her boss and his mom. “Thanks, I guess.” She scowled up at him. “But you can let go of me now.”
“Sorry.” Not sorry.
He let her slide away and deeper into the van.
The inside was a lot bigger than he’d thought, even if he had to duck his head to accommodate his six-foot-three height.
Besides the bank of cabinets and shelves lining one side, a stainless-steel prep counter ran the length of the other with space cut out for a small sink and refrigerator.
Propping a hip against the counter, Legs resumed her position, arms folded. Too late. He’d already seen those high beams poking through her shirt, felt them grazing his chest through layers of clothing. He couldn’t wait to feel them skin to skin.
“Look,” she said, “I apologize if I offended you earlier. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped.”
With one more peek out the window—still there—he turned to face her, mimicking her stance. She thought this was about her reactions to his flirtation with Tits?
Okay, so maybe it was. He’d enjoyed the silent commentary early. His dick had, anyway. “You sound about as apologetic as you did about the raspberry.”
Her mouth dropped open. If only she was on her knees. “You were listening?”
“Eavesdropping.”
She clamped her mouth shut. “Hmph.” Her frown deepened. “Do you blame me? I mean, how can you not remember the name of a woman you slept with?”
“That’s why they call it a one-night stand.”
She scoffed and waved a hand at him.
“Can you remember all the names of the men you’ve fu-er, slept with?” A flush stained her cheeks, enticing him. He straightened and took a predatory step closer. “You can’t, can you?
Her chin lifted. “I assure you, I can. Every one of them.” She leaned forward. “I have them written in a little black book with stars for each orgasm, hearts for the ones who fell in love with me, and a number to describe the size of their dick.”
“Really?” He grinned at her sarcasm and couldn’t resist reaching out to wipe the lie from her lips with his thumb. The pulse at the base of her throat ticked faster. “Can’t wait to put them all to shame.”
“Oh no, fuckboy.” She swatted his hand away. “You couldn’t pay me to sleep with you.”
“Sleeping is not what I have in mind.” Planting both palms on the cold metal counter on either side of her hips, he moved in for the kill. “What I want from you is a long night of hot and sweaty, down and dirty fucking.”
Her lips parted on a gasp, but a flush stained her porcelain cheeks a pretty shade of pink, and her gaze flickered to his mouth for a fraction of a second before flittering away.
Maybe she wasn’t as immune as she professed.
He lowered his head, a breath away from taking advantage of a weak moment.
One kiss and she’d be putty in his hands.
As if to prove him wrong, her head snapped back, the lips he’d been about to plunder curled into a snarl, and one hand flattened on his chest, halting his momentum.
“Whoa, there, Romeo. I think you must have me confused with What’s Her Name. Remember her?” Blue eyes rose to the heavens in a mocking roll, and her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth. “Oh, wait, that’s right. You don’t.”
The way she deadpanned the last part tugged at the grin he was fighting. Legs wasn’t just hot. She was fucking spicy.
Mmm, I’ll bet she’s wild between the sheets.
“Well, let me tell you,” she added, “I’m not going to fall for that malarkey.”
“Malarkey?” Is that even a word? “Sounds like something my grandpa used to say.”
“Yeah, it means flattery will get you nowhere, asshole. Ugh. Does that shit really work for you?”
He shrugged. “Ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time.”
“You need a more discerning audience.”
“Are you offering?”
“Ha! It’ll take a lot more than a pretty face and a few insincere platitudes to turn my head, especially when I’m obviously second choice.”
“You think I’m pretty?” He preferred hot as fuck, but whatever worked.
Ignoring him, she ranted on, “Not every woman wants to sleep with you, you know. You might have the morals of a tomcat, but some of us have scruples and don’t need a man to make our dreams come true.”
Something Spencer said earlier jumped to the front of his brain and lodged there, followed by her conversation with Viv. Dreams. She had one. “The bank said no, so unless you know where I can find a money tree...”
“Hmm,” he muttered, rubbing his chin as a plan began to take root, “that’s not a bad idea.”
The V of her auburn brows plunged deeper. “What?”
He tilted his head, studying her. What if she really was immune to his charm? It seemed implausible, but the law of percentages was bound to catch up to him sooner or later. And if that was the case, even better. “I can make your dreams come true.”
“Oh my god, you’re such a conceited dick.” She shoved him hard, swept past him, and bent to peer out the window.
He groaned. That ass could be a problem.
“Of all the—argh!” She threw open the door and, skipping the steps, leapt gracefully to the ground, like the deer that played in the meadow on his family’s ranch.
And those legs…
Avery made sure the coast was clear and launched himself after her, his plan evolving. It was perfect. She’d be perfect. “Wait, I could pay you.”
She stopped in the middle of the parking lot and spun to face him, that red braid whipping out like a blade to slap his chest as he nearly plowed into her.
If only.
Twin flames of angry blue seared into him. “Excuse me?”
“I could—”
“I heard what you said.” Small fists found purchase on her hips. Her whole body bristled. “Are you seriously proposing that I prostitute myself? What kind of creep are you?”
He backed up, palms forward. “That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s what it sounded like.” She advanced a step, heels crunching on the gravel.
“Actually,” he said, a smug smile tilting his lips, because, yeah, he couldn’t not poke the bear. “I should be the one who’s offended. You’re the one who brought up paying you.”
The hole he was digging for himself grew deeper, and she looked like she wanted to hit him over the head with a shovel and bury him in it, but he couldn’t help himself.
Legs was glorious, spitting fire, challenging him with every verbal parry and thrust. And fuck, his sword was hard as steel and ready to do some thrusting. Which posed a problem. Maybe his friends were right. If this was going to work, he had to take a beat.
He retreated another step to put more space between them. Cool night air slid under his collar, doing jack shit for the heat in his blood. “I’m sorry. Banter is a turn on for me, and you’re really good at it, but I’ll dial it back if you’ll just hear me out. Please.”
“You’ve got one minute to convince me you’re not a perv.” She barked out a laugh that reeked of derision. “Like that’s possible.” She folded her arms over her chest again. Her foot tapped, and her eyes—blue, unblinking, unbothered—remained locked on his. “Tick tock. I’ve got things to do.”
Avery straightened the noose hanging around his neck, drove his fingers through the hair hanging in his eyes, and shot her his best pussy-winning smile.
Here goes. “I need a date.”