Wicked Grind (Stark World 1)

I conjure an ironic smile. "It's like you were sitting right next to me."

"All the more reason for you to come be my model."

I stretch my legs out in front of me and lean back, propped up by my arms. "How do you figure?"

"You say you get it. That you know your dad was full of it. You just don't believe it."

"So?"

"So let me help you believe it. You work for me and you'll be cutting loose by definition. I mean, it may be art, but you're still going to take your clothes off."

I laugh. "Gee. You're so convincing."

"And you get to dance. And you get the money. All that's good, right?"

I nod, then frown as something else occurs to me. "You really didn't know why we left town? You didn't hear about the fire?"

"Not a thing. I left for Boston soon after, but I'm not sure I would have heard even if I stayed. The house didn't burn, right?"

"No. Griffin bore it all."

"That's part of it, then. It probably made the news, but I didn't bother reading the papers. And that wasn't a neighborhood that would have been on my radar."

"Nobody mentioned it at the club?"

"Not that I heard, but I mostly kept to myself. And I only went back a couple of times after you dropped off the planet."

"I really am so sorry."

He stands, then reaches a hand down. I take it, then laugh when he pulls me up so quickly I end up pressed against him, his arm around my waist.

"How sorry are you?" he asks, his voice rumbling through me.

"Wyatt . . ." His name is a protest. It's also the only sound I can manage. Because I'm desperately fighting the urge to lean into him and let him close his arms around me and simply hold me tight.

"I'm just saying that if you think you owe me, you can always offer compensation by way of doing my show."

Immediately, I relax. And when I tilt my head up to look at him, I see him looking back with equal amusement.

"It's true that I tend to be highly motivated by guilt," I admit. "But I'm also working hard to fight that impulse."

"Don't fight it," he says as he takes a step back. "Listen to your brother. He seems like a smart guy. Go a little wild, Ms. Draper. Cut loose. Take a risk."

"Is that what you are? A risk?"

"Risk, reward. I'm pretty sure the two are tied together."

I grimace, but mostly because I don't have a snappy comeback.

"Seriously," he says. "You're just going to ignore your little brother's advice? Your poor brother Griffin?"

Now, I laugh. "You're terrible. You know that, right?"

"Terrible, but also brilliant. Give me your purse."

"What? No."

"Fine. Then just give me your keys."