Temporary To Tempted. Jessica Lemmon
to the after-work beer, not thinking it’d be any different than any other hangout they’d had before. It had been different, though, since the couple couldn’t keep their hands or eyes on anything in the room but each other. But he couldn’t begrudge his friends. A few months back, Flynn and Sabrina had slipped from the friend zone to the in-zone. Flynn was the happiest he’d been in a long while.
“Here you go, sweetheart.” The cute blonde winked at him and moved away to greet another patron.
If he wasn’t mistaken, that lifting feeling in his chest was relief at his decision not to dance the dance with her. Flirting was easy—hell, second nature—to him. Asking her out wouldn’t be an issue. He had it down. He’d heard yes more times than no, and often heard “Yes!” shouted with exuberance later the same night in his bed.
Over the past few weeks, however, he’d noticed he was tired of the game. Going out on a few dates, a round or three of spectacular sex (or okay sex—but even okay sex was pretty damn good), and then finding his way out before things progressed to anything serious... If they got that far. Lately, he’d grown tired of the awkward parting in the middle of the night or the next morning. Tired of the walk of shame.
Thirty years old was too young to be this jaded.
You’re just tired after a long week. Don’t analyze it to death.
He leaned forward to pull his wallet from his back pocket, ready to pay and take his gloomy self home, when he noticed a stunning vision striding toward him. He froze, the scene unfolding in slow motion.
Strawberry blond hair washed over slim shoulders in a waterfall of color, bright against the narrow black sheath dress draped over her slender form. Electric blue eyes flashed with determination. She was long-limbed, her walk confident, and her full pink mouth was set in a firm, unsmiling line. One eyebrow was arched and she homed in on him like he was the target and she was a missile.
With his next breath, his libido returned. Lust slammed into his solar plexus and dried out his mouth.
Which made no sense.
In those heels, in that dress and with no smile to speak of, it was obvious he was in the presence of a way-too-serious woman. He’d had a close call with a woman like this one in his past, and he’d since decided that cute, bubbly bartenders were more his style.
Even so. Intrigued and more than a bit curious, he shoved his wallet back into his pocket when it became clear that this striking woman was coming right for him.
This one, he’d dance with. If only to shake things up a bit.
He’d buy her a drink, turn on the Fleming charm and see what happened. It’d been a while since a woman had snagged this much of his attention. Whether it was the strawberry blonde’s determination or the set of her small shoulders, he couldn’t be sure, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off her. How could anyone look that damned delicate and at the same time like she ate nails for breakfast?
He didn’t know. But he was going to find out. Something told him that she’d be worth it, no matter the cost.
“Shelly, I’ll have another IPA after all,” he said to the bartender, and as the strawberry blonde placed a manicured hand on the back of the bar stool next to him, he smoothly added, “and whatever she’s having.”
“You got it.” Shelly dipped her chin at the strawberry blonde. “What’ll it be?”
Strawberry yanked her gaze from Gage, her expression almost shocked that the bartender was talking to her. “Um. Chardonnay.”
Shelly fetched their drinks and Gage turned to greet his guest, pulling the stool out for her to sit.
“No. Thanks,” she replied coolly, almost like the “thanks” part was an afterthought.
Instinct told him that she wasn’t as cool and calm as she pretended to be. If she was actually the man-eater she portrayed, she’d look him in the eye right now. Instead, she appeared to be steeling herself for some sort of proposition. Maybe she’d had a bad breakup, needed a little rebound.
That he could do.
“Can’t enjoy your chardonnay without having a seat,” he replied easily, patting the stool with one hand. Her eyebrows slammed down over her pert nose and she pegged him with an expression that bordered on fury.
A zap! hit him low in the gut. A warning drowned out by intense curiosity.
Let’s tangle, honey.
A glass of chardonnay and a bottle of beer appeared in front of him, and without breaking away from her fiery blue gaze, he handed over the wine. Strawberry’s nostrils flared, but she took the glass, tipped it to her lips and had sucked down a third of it by the time he’d lifted his bottle.
Yep. She was definitely here on a mission.
She set the glass down with a loud clink. “I’ll pay you two thousand dollars to spend a weekend with me.”
Gage lowered his beer without taking a sip. His mouth was poised to say the word what but he didn’t have a chance to say anything before she was opening her purse and showing him the contents. Stacks of twenties were packed into it, facing every which way like she’d robbed a convenience store before propositioning him.
“I’m attending a destination wedding in the Midwest in two weeks. Your flight and separate room will be paid in full. I’ll give you two thousand dollars to go with me.”
Just as he’d settled on the notion that this beautiful creature was certifiably insane, a flicker of doubt lit her expressive eyes.
“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for the duration. I know Ohio doesn’t sound scenic, but Crown is a beautiful, quaint town. And there will be food,” she added with a touch of desperation. “Really good food.”
Her throat moved as she swallowed thickly, her outer layer of surety and confidence flaking away.
Seemed he was right about her being on a mission, but damn, he’d been wrong about her not being a man-eater. She was so similar to his ex, he wouldn’t be surprised if she pulled off a mask to reveal Laura herself.
He took a long slug of his beer and then swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. This woman was either crazy or desperate or both. Figured. He should’ve known a woman this beautiful would be nuttier than a sack of trail mix.
“Well?” Her eyebrow arched again, her too-serious expression snapping seamlessly into place. “I don’t have much time, so I’d appreciate an answer.”
Was she for real?
He’d never imagined she’d march over here and demand to...to...hire him to be her date, let alone expect him to agree without so much as a casual introduction. For all he knew, she would lure him in with promises and then steal his identity.
Or my kidneys.
The answer was an easy no, but he wouldn’t let her off the hook without making her explain first. He opened the edge of her purse with his index finger so he could examine the cash inside as he pretended to consider her offer.
“How will payment work? You just hand me all the money in your purse and then I give you my phone number?”
“No. Of course not.” She snatched her bag out of his reach. “Then I’d have no guarantee you’d show up. I’d give it to you at the wedding.”
“Why would I clear my weekend plans and fly with you to Ohio on a promise of two thousand dollars if I don’t have any of it?”
A frown muddled her pretty face. “You can have half. But I need your phone number. And your address. And your word.”
Unbelievably gorgeous and absolutely crackers. It was a shame.
“But I need your answer now.”
“Right now.” His gaze locked