Speed King (Men of Action 1)
“Do you know how?”
“I may not drink this girlie shit, but doesn’t mean I’m clueless.”
He expertly whips up a concoction using ingredients I didn’t know were here. When he pours me a sample, I moan in appreciation. “This is fantastic.”
“Groan like that again and you’ll get something else fantastic.”
Swarms of little tingles take flight in my stomach, and I glance up to find his eyes boring into mine. Just like that first time, he continues to take my breath away. So ruggedly gorgeous.
He jolts, his gaze turning heated and hungry.
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Yeah, and baby, fair warning. You give me something that sweet again, everyone at this party will witness me hauling you to my room with my intentions clear.”
I ignore his warning, curl my hand around his neck, and tip up on my toes, urging his face down. “I’m glad Grandma Lucy didn’t scare you away.”
A smile plays at his lips. “She called me on my shit. Knew I loved you all those years ago and thinks I was reckless by risking the chance of losing you. Then she told me she expected our house to fill with babies as soon as we’re married. She’s completely on board.”
My jaw drops and a bubble of a squeal gets out before he crashes his lips over mine. His tongue sweeps through, twirling with mine briefly before breaking away. “Don’t tempt me, Harley. My room.”
A collective sigh sounds out, and I swivel my neck to find all eyes on us. Mom and Grandma are grinning approvingly, Aunt Tina a mix of happiness and envy.
“Drink your drinks, enjoy your family, and tonight, I’ll show you my appreciation for that sweetness.”
“We have a house full of people sleeping everywhere.”
“We’ll deal.”
I sigh in appreciation. “Can’t wait.”
“Baby, really? You got me halfway hard just being around. Now I’m solid.”
“Sorry.” I push back and motion for him to fill my glass. “Let’s head down where they can gossip about us without embarrassing me to death.”
He folds my hand in his and leads us to the back yard. “So, you probably picked up that Mom has been running her mouth.”
“Hard to miss.”
“I forgot you hadn’t met Mike before. But we’re close, well, as close as his schedule allows.”
“He’s the one with the record label?”
“Yes, the man is the definition of a workhorse. He’s also a master entrepreneur. The label that started small has grown into an internationally recognized name. He’ll humbly argue the success is a result of his team. But we all know the truth. It’s his own hardworking sweat equity. He’s married to his job, and his clients are a part of his family. Aunt Tina is scared he’ll never slow down enough to find a woman and fall in love.”
“He will.”
He says it with such confidence, I stop and glance up at him. “You think?”
“I’m familiar with hard work and sweat equity. Sometimes a man needs to lay the foundation, so when he finds the one, he can balance it out. Sounds like his foundation is solid. He needs to find the one that takes his breath away with the first glance.”
I melt into him, memorizing the way he’s staring at me with such love it’s a miracle my heart doesn’t burst from my chest. “God, I love you.”
No matter how many times I’ve repeated the words, his expression always grows thoughtful. He steals a quick kiss, then guides us to the circle of people, positioning us close to Mike.
“Not to sound like an ass, but I didn’t believe Dad when he told me they moved her party because your boyfriend offered. I called Uncle Rich to see what the hell was happening.”
“Mike, that’s tacky.”
“Harley, I have clients that live in this neighborhood.”
He doesn’t have to explain further. Mike represents some of the best musicians and hottest musical talent in the country. He’s had full bands relocate to Nashville to work with him and his team. He’s made many people very wealthy.
“When Uncle Rich explained the situation to me, it made total sense,” Mike finishes.
“It’s still tacky.”
“I disagree. I see it as looking out for my baby cousin. Seems like my worry was premature. Heard you bought a lot to build her a home—congrats, man.” He tips his beer in Achilles’ direction and warmth fills me inside.
“How is the glamorous life of jet-setting with the rich and famous?” I tease, moving the subject along.
“Not nearly as glorious as you may think.”
“Must be tough.”
“Would be less tough if you’d come work for me.”
My stomach drops to my feet, and I swing to face him in disbelief. “What?”
“There’s an opening in my marketing department that sounds perfect for your expertise.”
“How do you know my expertise?”
“Jewls’ been filling me in.”
“Launching a ladies’ night and creating an upstart campaign for an exercise studio isn’t exactly your level.”
Achilles squeezes my waist with a low grunt. He’s not a fan of me dismissing my efforts.