Undercover Engagement (Private Pleasures 5)

Head high, she marched into the house.

And…scene. Cut. Print. Done. Yes, she’d sidelined herself this time and left him to fly solo, but it worked too well not to play it that way. She trusted his instincts on how to use the situation to their advantage. Continuing through the house to the bedroom, she selected an old concert T-shirt she’d had since high school and a pair of soft, gray sweat shorts and slipped quietly into the bathroom. While she cleaned up and changed as silently as possible, she listened to the conversation on the porch.

“…has a point, man. She totally risked her life to save Gracie Stevens—never mind that kid was born with no fear and an honest-to-God death wish. It’s not fair that Eden has to give up something important to her because she stepped up.”

Good old Kenny.

“I never said it was fair,” Swain shot back. “Life’s not fair. Money’s for sure not fair. Some people work hard day in, day out and never have jack, while some people barely do anything and always seem to have plenty of cash for gas and beer and weed or whatever.”

Eden bit her lip. Swain was clearly making his move, but that might have been a little too on the nose. They still had the meeting with Kenny’s mom tomorrow afternoon about the wedding reception, which would give them yet another opportunity to stress their strapped financial situation to the guys.

“I mean, seriously,” Swain went on. “How much do you guys spend on that shit you smoked out back last week? Two hundred an ounce? Two fifty?”

“Well, I have a job at the Gas N Go,” Dobie explained, “and I live at home, so my, uh, overhead is low.”

“And I DJ at the Inn,” Kenny chimed in, “which is good for a few hundred bucks a gig. Living at home is what you’d call a trade-off. But it’s not like we’re loaded.”

“Nah. Not you guys. But whoever you buy from—think about it. That guy is making serious bank, free and clear, for doing next to nothing. Where do I find a setup like that? If you want to pay me back that favor, find me one, because I tell you, boys, it’s the only way I’m going to be able to afford the wedding she wants. That hero in there? Compromise is not in her vocabulary.”

Mouth full of toothpaste, Eden froze and held her breath. He’d positioned himself well. The setup should work. Long, eternal seconds ticked by in silence. Finally, Dobie laughed. “Dude, we could start one of those pay-me pages for you. It’s the ultimate easy money. By tomorrow, everyone in town will know what Eden did. They’ll trip all over themselves donating money to cover her medical expenses. Put the page up, sit back, and let the cash roll in.”

Dammit. She spat and rinsed while Swain rejected Dobie’s idea.

“I can’t do it. A man’s got to have some pride. I work. I pay my way. I don’t want charity. I just need a low-hassle side hustle is all I’m saying, but something that’s worth my while. It makes no sense for me to bust my ass on a second job, working for minimum wage, so I can pay most of it to the government and never get an inch ahead.”

“We’ll keep thinking on it,” Kenny promised.

“You guys are awesome. Want another beer?”

They declined. Swain asked them if they’d be at Rawley’s tomorrow night, which was smart because it would give them another chance to stress the wedding costs. When Dobie said yes, Eden’s spirits stopped sinking. Swain told them they’d see them there. At the sound of farewells and footsteps on the porch, she turned off the bathroom light, dumped her dirty clothes in the laundry room, and went into the bedroom. Muted dusk filtered in from the window, filling the room with deepening shades of blue. It suited her mood. She crawled onto the bed and sat there, cross-legged in the center of the sagging mattress, absorbing the setback.

After a few moments, the closing blast of the front door shook the windows. Swain’s footsteps came down the hall and stopped at the bedroom door. She turned to see him standing in the shadows.

“Did you hear?”

“Yep,” she said softly. “I heard. If it’s any consolation, I thought it was going to work.”

Swain let out a breath and came into the room. “Me, too.” He stretched out on the bed beside her, propped his head on his hand, and ran the other along he

r bare thigh. “I fucked up and pushed too hard. They’re not going to do it.”

“Not yet. Maybe tomorrow at Rawley’s, after we meet with Kenny’s mom, they’ll decide to help you out and set up a meet.”

“I took my shot tonight. A swing and a miss.” He dropped his head into her lap, creating a vision of masculine defeat he couldn’t possibly realize. “Does this hurt?”

She ran her fingers through his hair. “No.” Still stroking his head, she asked, “So how do you want to approach things tomorrow?”

A low sound of appreciation rumbled from his chest. “Tomorrow night, the ask has to come from you. They’ll do it if you ask.”

“You think?” The notion of everything riding on her set off a small earthquake of nerves epicentral in her stomach.

“Yeah.” He turned his head and kissed high up on the inside of her thigh. “Does that hurt?”

Her hand went limp on his head. “No. Um, what if they say no to me, too?”

“It’s not going to happen. Trust me. How ’bout this, choux?” He kissed her at the apex of her shorts, moving his lips firmly enough to massage her clit through a layer of cotton. “Hurt?” His voice, low and a little hoarse, set off another small quake of a different sort low in her belly.

“Uh-uh.” Her blood felt heavy, and her limbs, and her eyelids. “Feels good.”