Grinder (Seattle Sharks 1)

“Fine,” Paige relented, as did I, and we clinked our glasses together.

We each drained the contents, and I took a seat on my bed once Jeannine had refilled mine.

“Now, honestly, tell me, how difficult is it living with that hard cut of man?” Jeannine retook her seat, crossing one long leg over the other. The black pumps and dark jeans she sported contrasted with her blond hair, making her look like a badass biker version of Barbie.

I grinned. “It’s actually really easy. I love Lettie, and Gage has been super accommodating.” I raised my hands to indicate the ginormous room he’d given me.

It was big enough to hold the king sized bed, have a lounge area and the huge Cherrywood desk holding up a computer that cost more than three of my car payments. I’d told him when I’d moved in it was all too much, but he’d insisted all his guest rooms had always been set up that way.

I highly doubted it, especially because just off my room was one packed with nothing but art supplies—the best paints, brushes, canvasses, and easels—and with each adult version he’d gotten Lettie a child-sized one to match. It was one of our favorite activities and the girl was a natural artist. She had a knack for focusing when the paint ran between her fingers as she smeared it around the canvas, something I understood well, at least with a brush in my hand.

“I know you two are used to this kind of thing,” I continued. “Fitting back into this lifestyle has been an adjustment.” My family had always had money, and if I wanted to live off a trust fund I could, but I didn’t. I wanted to earn my way, and my life, I just had to figure out what the hell to do with it first.

“Please,” Jeannine said. “You fit here. Just like I think you’d fit with Gage. There is something there.”

I shook my head, not that I hadn’t fantasized about what it would be like if we’d crossed the lines we never had as kids. “You’re sensing history, not chemistry. We’ve known each other since kindergarten.”

“I have an excellent heat-sensor and there are definitely sparks between you two.” Jeannine got up and refilled our drinks faster than we could drink them. “You should act on it.”

“What about Paige?” I motioned my glass toward her and earned a good glare for it.

Jeannine smiled at her. “Yes, we need to work on her too.”

“Thanks,” Paige said. “I’m totally fine with my life.”

“Nope,” Jeannine shook her head. “You’re not. Think about it, you’re about to take over your father’s position in the most uptight, moral company in the US and Bailey over here is playing house with a man she doesn’t get to fuck. Y’all need to make a list of everything you want to do before you’re too old to do it.”

“I’m only twenty-six!” I shouted but giggled at the same time. The margaritas were working wonderfully, turning stress and tension into fuzzy words I didn’t care about at the moment. “I’ve got time---“

“Fine, but Paige doesn’t.”

“Wonderful.” Paige raised her glass. “Here’s to you as Jeannine puts me out to pasture.”

Jeannine pursed her lips at her. “Not what I meant. You’ve got a handful of months before you’re under the microscope for the company. The morality clause and all that. We need to make you a list, a dirty girl bucket list and you need to accomplish every task before you take over the company.” She opened a few drawers of the desk until she dug out a blank notebook and pen. “We’ll make Bailey one too.”

“Not scheduled to take over any fortune five hundred companies anytime soon, but thanks,” I said and finished the rest of my drink.

“I’m not doing any list,” Paige said firmly but I could see a small glint of hope in her eyes. Looked like she was craving a taste of the forbidden as bad as I was.

“Sure you are, and the first thing on it will be to sleep with Rory Jackson.” Jeannine quickly wrote the task down.

Paige spit half her drink back into her glass and my mouth dropped.

“You have a crush on the enforcer for the Sharks?” I asked, shocked. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Rory was one of Gage’s best friends, it wasn’t like I didn’t have access to him.

Paige’s cheeks flushed as red as her hair. “It’s a fantasy for God’s sake! I don’t actually want to sleep with the man.”

“Of course you do,” Jeannine said.

“If that’s the case,” I said, standing up and opening my bedroom door, “you know he’s playing poker with the rest of the boys upstairs, right? Now is your chance.”

Paige’s eyes widened and she scoffed. “I will if you will.”

My hand gripped the doorknob a bit tighter.

What if I did? What if I acted on the deep ache that begged me to touch Gage any time he was within ten feet of me? To trace the cut lines of his muscles with my tongue. The scene flashed behind my eyes, his lips on my skin, his body flush with mine…

I shut the door, the mere fact I was entertaining the thought was enough to cool the fire pulsing inside me. Damn margaritas.

“Didn’t think so.” Paige grinned triumphantly at me.

“Yeah, well, I’m not employed by Rory Jackson and neither are you. You could do anything you wanted if you simply chose it.”

Paige swallowed her response and poured her and myself another glass.

“All right so far I’ve got: Fuck Rory Jackson, Have sex in public, and make a sex tape, on Paige’s list. What else?” She bit the end of the pen she held before her eyes lit up. “Kiss a woman!” She laughed so hard each of us joined in.

“Might as well throw in Have a threesome for good measure,” Paige said, shaking her head.

Jeannine quickly nodded and jotted the task down. I laughed so hard my sides ached. The sensation felt wonderful, clearing out the icky negative trend I’d received from the puck-bunny-parade I’d been privy to the past six months. These were my girls and they understood me, built me up, and made me relax all at the same time. I’d never been happier that we’d all taken up yoga at the same time four years ago, and that the pair had instantly welcomed me into a friendship they’d had as long as Gage’s and mine.

“Perfect.” Jeannine handed Paige the list, which looked to have nearly ten dirty tasks on it. “Get to work.”