Best Man with Benefits

And if that scary thought didn’t get her butt in gear, nothing would, because falling for him was one thing, but falling so hard she lost sight of the limitations of their…whatever it was they had going on…was another thing entirely.

She gave him an awkward wave, then pointed to the door and mouthed, “See you later.”

He shook his head, put the phone face up on the desk, hit speaker, then another button, and then gestured her to come closer. She approached the desk as a man on the other end of the call said, “Thanks, everyone, for dialing in. While Logan’s booting up, I’ll take a minute to walk through the agenda, which is pretty extensive…” A series of groans from the other attendees followed that announcement.

Logan smiled, grabbed her wrist, and tugged her closer. “It’s on mute,” he explained, before his smile turned wicked and he slid his hand under her skirt. “I seem to recall ripping your panties off last night, so tell me, Soph, whatcha got on under this little red dress?”

The voices on the other end of the phone went quiet, and then someone cleared his throat.

Logan winced and slowly removed his hand. “Okay, I take it we’re not on mute?”

Several beats of silence greeted the question, and then a female voice said, “This is the best conference call ever.” People laughed.

“Glad to bring you your prurient moment for the day. Everyone, say hi to Sophie.”

“Hi, Sophie,” the disembodied group replied as one.

“Hello,” she somehow choked out. “And good-bye.”

Logan grinned and winked at her. “Sophie’s face is almost as red as her dress right now.”

The voices on the other end of the phone chanted, “Picture! Picture! Picture!”

“Sorry, team. I’m keeping her to myself for the time being. But if you all behave, and we get this freaking deal closed by the end of the quarter, I’ll see if I can talk her into being my date for the closing dinner.”

That statement brought a round of whistles and cheers.

Date for the closing dinner? Dear God, he was talking about taking this thing between them forward. Beyond Beaver Creek. Into their real lives. Her heart galloped off toward an uncharted horizon while he added, “Great. Now, Peter’s going to walk you through the agenda, and I’m going to put you on mute while I say good-bye to Sophie.”

Several “Bye Sophies” flowed over the line, along with a few kissing noises. Logan rolled his eyes, hit the mute button—took an extra second to make sure the icon came up on the screen—and then put the phone down and looked at her sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

She waved his apology away. “It’s me. My bad luck has rubbed off on you.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her forward, and rested his forehead against her middle before looking up at her. “Something about you has rubbed off on me, but I don’t think it’s bad luck. Sure you have to go? You could hang out here and…fuck…I don’t know…be bored to death. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

It did, which only went to show how far-gone she was. She needed to get out of there and figure out what the heck she was doing before she said something lame. “It’s the best offer I’ve had all day, but…” too late… “I need to go. I have some work to do, too. Plus my parents are arriving tonight. I have to mentally prepare for that.”

“Wow. They’re arriving together? I didn’t think they spoke to each other, much less traveled together.”

“Lord no. They’re arriving separately. We hope the resort offers enough neutral ground for them to occupy at once.”

“That bad, huh?”

“I should be used to it. I was too young when they split up to remember them any other way than how they are now. They’re just very different, and”—she shrugged—“incompatible. Mom’s outgoing and likes a busy social calendar. Dad prefers his own space and company.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry. But do me a favor and remember different doesn’t always mean incompatible.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I do. See you tonight at the rehearsal?”

She nodded and walked to the door. “Yes.”

When she reached out her hand to grab the knob, Logan stopped her. “I think you’re forgetting something.”

Was she? She turned around and surveyed the room, and then looked up at him. “What?”

“This.” He lowered his head and kissed her. Within seconds, all thoughts of conference calls and closing dinners fled from her mind, to be replaced by vivid memories of exactly what had gone down the last time she’d been standing between Logan and the door. She wrapped her arms around his neck while her body revved up for a repeat performance.

Logan groaned, tipped his head, and changed the angle of the kiss, and then groaned again when a voice from the other end of the room called, “Logan McCade. Paging Logan ‘Pantyripper’ McCade. Please return to your conference call.”

“Oh, goodness.” Sophie jumped, turned, and would have run smack into the door if Logan hadn’t grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back against him. He opened the door for her, kissed her again, and whispered “Bye, Soph,” before she floated out into the hall.

Back in her room, she showered, changed, and tried her best to push her whirling thoughts about Logan and his sort-of dinner invitation out of her mind. Work proved to be a decent distraction, but after a few hours, she’d answered all her emails, taken care of a couple quick projects, and received a text from her mom telling her she was on her way to the resort, as well as an email from her dad saying his flight had just touched down.

Great. Two and a half hours before the Bickermans hit Beaver Creek. Even as a divorced couple, they presented a strong argument for staying single. Forever.

Feeling restless, she changed into loose sw

eatpants and a long-sleeved workout shirt and went for a run-walk along the paths surrounding the resort. Somehow she found herself back at the same dress shop where she’d dropped her life savings yesterday. The same nice saleswoman talked her into “a sexy-but-classy wrap dress the exact same shade as your eyes,” a pair of black patent leather sling-backs, and another naughty set of underwear in deep violet this time. The shopping killed another hour and another three hundred bucks.

On her way back, she contemplated ordering a late lunch from room service and spending the rest of the afternoon indulging in her favorite guilty pleasure—reading. She had several new titles on her Kindle, but for once, an afternoon immersed in erotic tales didn’t sound enticing. It sounded isolated. And that’s when it hit her. She was tired of her own company.

Sophie Brooks, introverted lover of solitude, craved interaction. Lunch alone in her room held no appeal. Instead of cutting through the lobby to the elevator, she made her way to the Berlitz Bar, a Swiss chalet-style pub, with the idea of ordering some food and people-watching. The place was mostly empty, save for a foursome of seniors who looked as if they’d just strolled off a golf course, and a cozy couple lost in their own world, whispering and giggling at the end of the bar. She walked to an empty stool at the other end of the bar, tucked her shopping bags beside the stool, and took a seat. Her gaze wandered the room, searching for a bartender, and inadvertently landed on the couple.

Correction, make that Colt and Kady lost in their own world, whispering and giggling at the bar. As she watched, Colt tipped Kady’s chin up and kissed her.

Right. They were perfectly balanced. No need for a third wheel. She’d just sneak out before they noticed her. She hopped off the tall barstool, unbalancing it in the process, and then watched in horror as it proceeded to topple the next three barstools like a big, loud line of dominoes.

Every head in the place turned toward her. So much for sneaking out unnoticed. She busied herself picking up barstools.