Dirty Deal (Perfectly Matched 2)

He swallowed hard. “Shoot.”

“That’s the question, actually,” she said with a chuckle. “Piper doesn’t…I mean, she can’t operate a weapon, right? I’m not putting my life on the line for this, am I?”

“I think if she was homicidal, it would have come to light sometime in the past nine years.”

Serena shook her head incredulously. “I still can’t get over that. Nine years.”

“Oh yeah. Actually, a little longer than that, now.”

“Spill it. I have to know. What are you doing to these poor women? Is it some sort of brainwashing thing, or a trick in the bedroom?”

“Hell if I know.” He bit back the urge to offer her a free sample if she wanted to know that bad. “Maybe it’s just the old adage. You know, a good man is hard to find.”

“Amen to that.” Humor colored her tone, but there was an unexpected edge there, too. Interesting.

“Speaking of which, you asked me all about my love life. I should know some things about yours. Don’t you have a boyfriend? It’s not like you’re bad-looking.” He parroted her half-assed compliment from earlier, and she nudged him gently with her shoulder.

“I’m not about that boyfriend life. Dating is…” She stared out over the ocean and shook her head. “Dating is not my style.” Her tone was thoughtful this time, but she didn’t turn to look at him.

This woman was full of surprises.

“You’re a matchmaker,” he reminded her.

“You’re a doctor. Do you go around…just, like, sticking Band-Aids on yourself?”

“That analogy doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah, well, your…mom doesn’t make any sense.” She offered up an expression of mock anger before her face finally split into a wide grin again. Just like that, the cord of tension fell away.

“Very mature.” And way to change the subject. He considered not letting her off the hook, but opted to drop it. Pushing the issue would make it seem like he was interested in changing her mind, and he definitely wasn’t. But if she needed someone to call at night and help her with any pesky urges that might arise due to the lack of dating, well…

She raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been called worse than immature.”

“I bet you have.”

“Oh, look who suddenly found their biting wit.”

A platinum lock of hair whipped in front of her face, obscuring part of her heart-shaped pink mouth from view. She surveyed him hard, standing stock-still in front of the water until the tide lapped her ankles.

She was inching nearer to him now, and with every movement her tight black dress rode up her thighs.

“Funny, I hadn’t realized I’d ever lost it,” he said, but it was just words. There was nothing funny right now. Or if there was, he couldn’t focus on it. In that moment, there was only Serena and the sound of the waves licking the shore in time with the pounding of his pulse as she edged toward him. It had been months since he’d slept with a woman. Surely that explained why he felt like a caged beast every time this one came within two feet of him.

Finally she was beside him, only inches from his touch. Another long moment passed, and the air flowed thick with the sounds of summer and the pull between them.

“Did you know, before they built the restaurant, the old-timer locals used to call this little spit of beach Slap and Tickle Shore? It was even more secluded then and youngsters used to come here all the time to make out.”

He raised his brows. “Seriously?”

“Yup. Actually, this is where my grandparents fell in love.” Her expression softened.

“At Slap and Tickle Shore?” He could only imagine what the youngsters did when they were here, and he clenched his hands again, trying to control the very physical reaction that thought inspired.

Her eyes. He needed to focus on her eyes. It was the only way to keep his gaze from devouring those lean curves and trying to picture what lay beneath that tight dress.

“That’s not the official story,” she said, bringing his attention back to her tale. “Not according to my parents. They always said my grandparents’ eyes met across a dance floor at a sock hop and had a very proper courtship. If you ask my grandma, though…” Her sly grin spread wider, revealing a hidden dimple on her left cheek. “If you asked my grandma, she had Grandpa take her here on their second date, looking for some action to make sure they were compatible in all areas.”

“That’s a riot,” he said with a grin. “She sounds like a smart lady.”

Serena reached for the champagne bottle and took a long gulp before swiping a hand over her mouth. Something about the contrast of her almost surreal beauty and polish versus her bawdy laugh and not-so-proper manners made his blood run hot.

“She was. And pragmatic but also a little bit of a wild child for the time period. The headmaster at my old boarding school would say that I take after her, I think.” She plopped into the sand, stretching out her feet so that the cool water lapped at her ankles again.

“Ah, a troublemaker, huh?” He could see that. Serena raising hell, taking unsuspecting boys to Slap and Tickle Shore and having her way with them. Actually, he would love to see that right now.

“Sort of. Partly for attention from my parents but also because I don’t like being told what to do.” She chuckled and splashed her foot against the current, spraying tiny diamond-like droplets onto her mile-long legs.

“So what’s your grandmother’s version of what happened that night? Did they make out and then hit the sock hop?”

“They hit something,” she said, waggling her brows up at him.

“She told you that?”

“As she got older, she sort of lost her filter. It made for some truly excellent Thanksgiving dinners, believe you me. She was kind of my hero. Like, back then, a girl asking a guy to the shore was probably très scandalous. But she didn’t give a shit. She knew what she wanted, and she took it. I can respect that.”

This time when she surveyed him, he knew it wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He met her gaze, watching as her pupils dilated. She might be anti-relationship, but she wanted him, and he’d be damned if he went home tonight without finding out how much.

…

What was it about this guy?

She never talked about her gram. Ever. And boarding school was a topic she avoided at all costs. But here, two words from him and she was practically transcribing the story of her l

ife and handing it to him. Why should he care about any of that? They weren’t friends. Hell, they were barely even acquaintances. And still, with every word she was inching closer to smell that alluring mix of leather and cinnamon that hung on the air around him. That, combined with the way his eyes undressed her, had her every breath coming shallower than the last.

She’d started out with one intention. Make Grace happy by convincing him to do the promo. How could she have known there would be this kind of pull between them? If they were going to spend a decent amount of time together between his events and the ad stuff for her business, maybe it would be better to get it out of the way. Sleep with him, find out what all the fuss was about so she could stop wondering, and then get down to business.

Having finally discarded his shoes, he stretched out his legs to mirror her, and their shoulders brushed. It had only been an inch of skin, maybe less, and still a shot of electric heat pulsed through her whole body.

“So what about you?” she asked, desperate to buy a little time. Get her head straight before she did something stupid. “You’re calling me trouble—what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done, Bryan? I mean, other than having me be your fake girlfriend and agreeing to be the face of a matchmaking company,” she asked, leaning back on her elbows in the soft sand.

“I thought we were supposed to be discussing terms of our agreement out here?” His voice was low and growly, and she wondered what it would be like to hear him say her name in that same voice.

A shiver stole through her. “We are. We’re learning about each other. If I really was your girlfriend, I’m sure I’d know the craziest thing you’ve ever done.”

“Well, there was this one time,” he started.

The way he was shifting around in the sand next to her got her curiosity flowing. “Yeah?”

“I should probably keep it to myself.” He looked away, and she gave him a gentle shove.

“Don’t be a baby. Tell me.”

“Okay. But promise you won’t tell anybody. Ever.”