The Charmer (Harbor City 2)

How did the saying go? Never trust a rich guy bearing gifts. Okay, that wasn’t quite it, but it was close enough. She sniffed a trap of some sort, she just didn’t know what exactly. “What is this?”

His smile was anything but comforting. “A test date to determine what I’m working with.”

He crossed his arms over his broad chest and gave her an appraising look that went from the top of her head, where her more-than-damp hair was stuck to her skull, down past her T-shirt—that had her wishing she’d taken the time to put on a bra, skimmed past her yoga pants with the bleach stain spanning one thigh from a recent laundry accident, and down to her unpainted toenails. Tyler had known her since she had braces and zits, so the fact that she wasn’t a glamor girl wouldn’t be a surprise to him. That didn’t mean she wasn’t prepared to do a little…freshening of her look. Animals did it all the time to attract a mate, as Hudson rightly pointed out the other day.

Resigned to Hudson’s answer before she even put it out there, she asked, “Does that mean you want me to go get dolled up?”

“That’s just the glaze on the pottery.” Keeping his gaze on her, he reached into the pastry box and pulled out a bear claw before nudging the container across the counter to her. “I want to see the good stuff.”

Okay, she had no idea how to take that. She turned it over in her mind while she grabbed the chocolate croissant that was still warm. “You mean like conversation?”

Oh God, please say no. She hated small talk. It frazzled her brain and then her nerves kicked in and all that came out of her mouth was about ants.

“Sure, let’s start there.” He grinned and took a giant bite of the pastry. “Go ahead. Wow me.”

“Okay.” Her brain blanked, and her pulse kicked up a notch or twenty. She talked to people all the time. She had friends. She wasn’t a complete social dork. However, the pressure of being “on” had her palms sweaty as she grabbed the tea. “Um… How was your day?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Well, even though it’s hours earlier than I normally get up on a Saturday, and I’m not a morning person, it’s going okay. How about you?”

“I’ve been up since five.” She took a bite of the croissant and managed to bite back her moan of pleasure as the buttery, flaky, chocolate goodness melted on her tongue.

“Why?” he asked, before demolishing the rest of his bear claw in one bite.

She savored her next bite and tried to come up with the words to explain that nothing-can-touch-me feeling she got in the mornings. It was like the world was full of possibility and all she had to do was reach out and grab it. It was as close to fitting in with the world that she ever got.

“I like the city when it’s quiet,” A police siren blared outside the window. “Well, quieter. I have breakfast, read the paper, catch up on the latest journal articles, and go for a run.”

“Every Saturday?” he asked.

She nodded.

He grimaced. “That sounds horrible.”

“Not at all. It’s my favorite part of every week.” She sipped the green tea and then took a deep inhale of the hint of jasmine wafting out of the cardboard to-go cup as she did so, her gaze tripped on the early birthday card from her mom that she had stuck to the fridge with an ant magnet. That was the point of all this, not sugary carb goodness. For Tyler, she could push past her natural shyness and take a few steps outside of her comfort zone. That meant staying focused. “We need to get down to it. The clock is ticking, and I don’t need help talking to Tyler; I need to make him jealous. I did a lot of thinking last night about what you said.”

“But not the kiss,” Hudson said, his focus dropping to her mouth.

Hot spots blazed high on her cheeks. “And in the animal kingdom, creatures do have superficial, visual ways to attract a mate. An example is the Long-Tailed Widowbird.”

He gave her a blank look.

Okay, time to dial down the nerd a bit or at least translate it into regular English. “They’re these gorgeous jet-black birds in Africa with orange-and-white shoulders, a blue-tinted bill, and nearly two-feet long tails. The tails make them much more visible to predators, but it is the key to attracting a mate.”

“So, you want a longer tail?” he asked, swiping her cup and taking a quick drink of tea. His face twisted the moment the liquid must have hit his tongue. “Ugh. That stuff is awful.”

“It’s an acquired taste,” she retorted, taking back her tea. “What I’m saying is that I am prepared to go through some sort of superficial makeover to get Tyler.”

“Okay, that’s a start,” he said, resting his forearms on the counter and leaning forward—close enough that she couldn’t miss the musky tease of his cologne.

She couldn’t place the scent, but it made her eyes flutter just a bit and her thighs clench. Fucking pheromones.

“However,” he continued, “there’s more to catching Tyler than just looking the part.”

“Oh, I know.” She nodded her head in agreement, relieved that he was seeing the brilliance of her plan. She may not have a ton of confidence in human interaction, but when it came to arranging an experiment, she had absolute faith. “That’s why you’re going to be there making him jealous.”

“I don’t know about that.” He reached out and took a strand of still damp hair, winding it around his finger.

“It’s perfect.” Gaining inner sass from some place she hadn’t even been aware of, she smacked his hand away, freeing herself, and took a step back from the counter. Having the two feet of granite between them suddenly didn’t seem like enough. “You don’t even want to know the number of studies I found last night that delved into the effect of what wanting what someone else has on mate selection in humans.”