Elevator Kiss

“Jokes about my interests are getting stale, dude. Pick something new.” She smelled like the florist shop section of the grocery store on Ninth Avenue.

“If you want, I’ll take you. And I’ll float your name in the executive meeting today for the Amzaz account.” I narrowed my eyes. I had her. “Creative team.”

“Calvin!” Her eyes lit on fire. “Thank you for picking this moment to stop being a hedonistic jerkface.”

“Was that a compliment?” I’d take it as one, even though my dating habits didn’t constitute hedonism. One and done, in most cases. Despite my unwholesome reputation, I barely got kisses goodnight at that rate. “No guarantees, though. I don’t make final decisions.”

“Hold on.” Amanda held up a palm. “I know you. If you’re offering, there has to be a catch. What am I missing here?”

She was right. There was a catch. A huge one.

“One thing.” I looked at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but in her eyes. “A minor detail. You have to convince my friend Parley, the groom, and the rest of the people at the pre-wedding festivities that you’re my Serious Girlfriend.”

Her glower darkened. “I’m not sleeping with you, Calvin. Forget it.”

I hadn’t even let myself wish that far. Yet. “Of course not. You’re not that kind of girl.”

“Correct. I’m not.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I’m not even close to that type.”

Her mussed-up hair contradicted her statement. I didn’t mention it.

“Are you the kiss-of-affection type? Because that would be required. At least to be convincing as my Serious Girlfriend.”

She thought a moment, her gaze getting smoky. “For a chance at the creative team, I can be very convincing.”

My stomach dropped into my knees. Had the icy Amanda flirted with me? Had to be a mistake.

I pasted on a grave mask for our solemn business transaction. “Hand-holding, and some hugging as well.” I could almost feel her curves against me now.

She bit her lips together.

I held my breath.

“Fine.”

Yes!

“But no wandering hands.” Her hand strayed to her ribcage and slid slowly downward to her hip. Interesting. Amanda Starkey had an imagination—and it might include visions of me.

Or, more likely, one of those Halfling things. “Fine. Hands will be in check. We’re set, then?”

“Hold up. Will the wedding festivities take up every minute? I need a vacation, too. Tourism to see the beauties of New Zealand. Promise to take me to check out tourist sites?”

“As in, to see hobbits?” Ha. No way. Not even for her. “You do realize they’re fictional. You’re on your own, my Mandy-girl.” Now I was nicknaming her?

“I’m not your Mandy-girl. And what will your friend say if you send me off to experience my hobby alone?”

Blast. She had a point. “Fine. On one condition—you convince them we’re together, and if one of them mentions how good we are together as a couple, you earn another nerd day trip.”

“If!” Her stance went defensive. “Hey, I starred in three high school drama productions, dude, and the school newspaper reviewed me as best stage kiss of the decade.”

My heart rate tripled and I stepped closer to her. “Any chance I could get a preview?”

She tilted her head. “No free samples. This isn’t Costco on a Saturday afternoon. All displays of affection will take place in New Zealand territory—and in front of other people.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” I gave her my sexiest grin, still hoping for that free sample.

“Oh, you’ll see it.” She turned ice cold again.