In Too Deep (Man of the Month 10)

Her blond curls bounced in the September sunlight, streaks of copper giving credence to his memory of the sparks that seemed to have arced between them. She wore a maxi skirt that clung to her hips and accentuated her thighs, along with a pale pink V-neck blouse that managed to look both casual and classy. She wore minimal makeup, but her lips were lush and red and so very kissable.

"You look fabulous," he said as she stepped inside, and damned if his voice didn't break like a teenager's.

"Thanks. So do you."

"I wasn't sure about the dress code." He was wearing jeans, a plain white tee, and a pale blue button down shirt.

"You look perfect. Very Texas. And if my parents are true to form, this will be a cocktail party on the ground floor, with the doors to the patio wide open. An indoor-outdoor thing with lots of alcohol and limitless barbecue."

"Well, at least that part won't suck."

She laughed. "So you're expecting the rest of it to be a nightmare?"

"I'm just hoping I don't screw it up for you."

Her sweet smile shot straight to his heart. "You couldn't possibly." She nodded to the leather duffel he was using as an overnight bag. "If you're ready, we should probably hit the road."

He bent to pick up the bag. "Yeah," he said. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

*

Nervous wasn't exactly the right word, but Hannah had definitely been feeling some trepidation before she and Matthew started out on their two hundred-mile journey from Austin to Dallas. Highland Park, actually. An upscale community surrounded by the city of Dallas.

By all rights, she should have been nervous about the upcoming party. Ernest wasn't a fool, and neither was her mother. If they knew that she was putting on a show just to get the money...

But what choice did she have? And besides, it was too late now. She'd made her plan; now she just needed to follow it.

That, however, wasn't what had set her nerves to humming before they'd hit the road. Instead, she was all too aware of the man who would be joining her. A man who--for no reason other than loyalty to his sister and the kindness of his heart--was doing this awesome favor for her. Maybe she was making more out of it than she should, but the whole thing seemed so sweet. So chivalrous. Like she was a lost princess and he was a knight in shining armor.

All of which was why she'd expected the trip to be mostly quiet and a little awkward, with the two of them being overly polite in order to compensate for her ridiculous case of nerves.

Instead, he'd plugged in his phone, hit a button, and within minutes they were jamming to a playlist full of everything from Michael Jackson to Ed Sheeran to P!nk. Then, after a dozen or so tracks, he'd turned down the volume, and they'd slid seamlessly into a conversation about their first concert experience.

"I was twelve," he told her, "and still getting used to having a real family. Don't get me wrong, I adored the Herringtons, but they weren't even officially our parents yet. We were still fostering. And then one day they said they were taking us to a concert. They took us to see Eminem--because someone had told them that was who all the kids loved."

"But you didn't." Laughter filled her voice as she tried to picture him politely telling his new parents that he'd love to go.

"Not me. Not even Selma. But we bo

th pretended like we did. We faked singing along. We screamed when he came on stage. We ended up competing against each other to see who could fake being a bigger fan. And in the end, we had one of the best nights we'd ever had."

"Did you tell them?" She took her eyes off the road only long enough to see his face.

"Not even to this day."

"They sound really great."

"Yeah," he agreed. "They are. We drew the short straw at birth, but we got lucky in the end. What about you?"

"I was a toddler when my dad died, so no concerts with him for me."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks," she said, because what else was there to say?

"I know your mom struggled after that, but she obviously held onto the life insurance money that your dad had earmarked for you. She still has it, after all."

Hannah tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "Yeah. She's still got it."