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Authors: Mari Carr

Tags: #Erotica

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BOOK: Bachelor's Bait
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During their conversation last night at Patricia’s birthday party, he’d learned she’d been unable to reach Jasper to question him, though she’d stuck to her assertion that her father was innocent of any wrongdoing. Marc briefly wondered if Jasper’s leeriness over his daughter’s response could somehow be used to the community center’s benefit, but if so, he couldn’t figure out how. Sophie refused to believe her dad was trying to close the center and Jasper wasn’t around to confirm or deny it either way. In the meantime, the hourglass was running out and the center was in trouble.

Marc wasn’t sure why he kept making excuses to see Sophie. He’d pretended their grocery store run-in was a coincidence. Truth was, he had driven by the store as Sophie was walking in. And suddenly remembered that he needed milk. He’d turned his car around for an impromptu shopping excursion.

He didn’t have such a handy excuse for attending Patricia’s birthday party last night. When the brightly colored invitation had appeared in his mailbox a few weeks ago, he’d laughed out loud, tossed the thing aside and muttered something about hell freezing over before he went to the bash.

Next thing he knew, he’d found himself at the party and finagling a seat next to Sophie. Patricia had completely believed that he was hoping to chat with Ms. Kennedy in order to forge a business relationship with Jasper. Patricia—ever the social-climbing gossipmonger—had bought his story hook, line and sinker, and had been only too willing to change the table arrangements.

Marc was pleasantly surprised to discover how down-to-earth Sophie was. He’d assumed from the stories he’d read about her in the newspaper that she was another trophy-wife wannabe. He’d met enough of that type in his lifetime. It was one of the main reasons he’d walked away from a prosperous career in his family’s law firm and moved all the way across the country. He’d wanted to escape his family’s name and connections, to prove he could make it on his own.

He and Sophie had more in common than he’d let her believe. The Garretts were to DC what the Kennedys were to Portland. He’d left DC because he’d been working himself to death—and tired of fending off women who looked at him with dollar signs in their eyes, anxious to get a piece of the Garrett pie.

He’d expected Sophie to be shallow, more interested in her wardrobe than the needs of the community, but that wasn’t the case. And while her trust was misplaced, he’d been touched by her loyalty to her father. He’d been even more impressed by her genuine concern for the center.

After his research, he was less surprised by Sophie’s love for the place. He’d found several old pictures of her with her mother at community events and fundraisers. The center had clearly been an important part of her childhood and the relationship she’d shared with her mother, who had died when Sophie was a teenager.

Just seven days after running into her, Marc found himself knee-deep in an attraction he couldn’t understand, didn’t have time for, but wasn’t willing to deny. Despite the fact his pursuit of her was a freaking gigantic conflict of interest. Jesus. He’d never put his cock ahead of his career, but with Sophie, he found his sense of professionalism wavering.

Sophia Kennedy was beautiful, sexy as sin and, more than that, she intrigued him, a trait that had been absent in his last few girlfriends.

He recalled her response to him in the coat closet. He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to kiss her, but something in her face had told him she was equally aware of the chemistry between them.

Sophie continued to make her way around the room, stopping at Gabriel Lawson’s table to talk to the woman sitting there. He’d heard through the grapevine that the wealthy bachelor was dating Jordan, the bookkeeper for Books and Brew. She was the only friend he hadn’t met last week. The way they leaned closer, sharing confidences, indicated their friendship was as strong as those he’d observed between Sophie, Jayne and Stephanie.

Sophie had her back to him and seemed to be fixing her hair in a mirror, but he could tell she was really looking at him through the reflection. When Jordan’s gaze found him as well, he knew they were talking about him.

He winked at Sophie, enjoying the way her shoulders stiffened just before she snapped the mirror shut and put it away. He was getting under her skin.

Now if only he could get under her clothes…

His gaze was broken when an acquaintance, Chuck Nelson, came over and stood next to him. “Damn monkey suit,” Chuck muttered, tugging at his bow tie.

Marc gave him a companionable nod. While he didn’t mind dressing up occasionally, he suspected Chuck’s tux had fit better when he’d bought it. The obnoxious real estate agent had gained quite a few pounds in the past year or so.

Marc suspected if he looked up the word
blowhard
in the dictionary, he’d find a picture of Chuck. Nevertheless, it was a charity fundraiser, so Marc pasted on a false smile and pretended to share Chuck’s derision for the formal attire. “I suppose the ladies like to see us dressed up and since they’re the ones putting on the shindig, they decide the dress code.”

Chuck sighed heavily. “Yeah, I guess so, but just once I’d like to see the invitation for one of these damn events say it’s okay to wear sweats and football jerseys.”

Marc laughed, though he didn’t relish the thought of seeing Chuck in sweatpants at some swanky restaurant. “You should pass that suggestion along to Sophie Kennedy. Isn’t she behind the planning for most of these events?” Marc hoped Chuck would take him up on his suggestion, perfectly aware he was setting her up for his own personal entertainment. He’d love to see Sophie’s face and hear her response to Chuck’s inane wish.

“Not likely she’d listen to
me
,” Chuck replied. “We dated a couple of years ago, you know.”

Marc plastered a nonchalant expression on his face, though he couldn’t imagine Sophie seriously being interested in the buffoon. “Is that so?”

“Yep.” Chuck leaned closer and lowered his voice. “She broke up with me because I was too
big
. If you know what I mean.”

Chuck gave him a cocky wink that had Marc’s hand balling up in a fist. He wasn’t sure exactly why he felt the urge to knock the guy on his ass, but it was pulsing strong and hard. He needed to put some distance between them.

“Excuse me, Chuck. I promised Mrs. Clarkson a dance.”

“Oh yeah. Sure thing.”

Chuck turned around to converse with another real estate agent who’d just joined them. Marc walked straight past the dance floor and outside to the patio, seeking some fresh air.

What the hell was wrong with him? He’d had a handful of conversations with Sophie and they’d shared a single kiss—albeit a hot one—less than an hour ago. So why was he feeling jealous, almost possessive of her?

Shit, she was the type of woman he’d spent a lifetime trying to avoid. He didn’t pursue country-club queens, and despite the fact Sophie owned and ran her own business, she was also a big part of the upper crust as well.

Not to mention he was currently the lawyer working to stop her father’s purchase of the community center. Hell, as long as she continued to defend her father, she could technically be considered not just a conflict of interest, but an adversary.

He took a deep steadying breath and forced himself to face the truth.

She’d never be his foe. And now that he thought about it, her past lovers didn’t mean a damn thing either. It was only her
future
partner he was interested in, because he didn’t have a doubt the next bed Sophie Kennedy slept in would be his. He wanted her. And despite the fact his attraction was dangerous and unbelievably stupid, he wasn’t a man who denied himself what he wanted.

He took a few minutes to enjoy the quiet evening, letting his new reality sink in before rejoining the party.

The rest of the night passed quickly as he conversed with several fellow lawyers over Scotch and sodas at the bar. Ordinarily he would have escaped the party shortly after dinner, but tonight he remained, content to chat and watch Sophie in her element.

As the gathering began to wind down, he offered to walk her to her car. “Thanks for attending.”

“Anytime.” He considered trying to steal another kiss, but Sophie anticipated the move. She claimed her seat behind the steering wheel so quickly she almost hit her head on the car door.

He resisted the urge to chuckle and call her coward.

“Well, good night.” She slammed the door, clearly desperate to make her escape. He took a step away from the car but made no move to head to his truck across the parking lot. Truth be told, he needed her to drive away so he could adjust the hard-on residing in his pants. He’d risk an injury if he attempted walking with it in its current position.

Sophie turned the key—and nothing. The engine didn’t fire. Twice more she twisted the key, but he could tell from the silence her battery was dead. Marc glanced around the parking lot. They were the last two guests to leave.

She wearily climbed out of the car. “I don’t suppose you have jumper cables, do you? And if so, do you know how to use them?”

He shook his head. “I loaned my set to a client a few weeks ago. She hasn’t returned them yet.” He actually didn’t expect to see them again at all. He’d planned to buy new ones. Unfortunately he hadn’t had the time.

“Great.”

“How about I give you a ride home? I’ll buy some cables and pick you up in the morning. I can bring you back here and give you a jump before work.” His cock thickened even more as he thought about exactly
how
he wanted to jump her.

“Oh, you don’t have to go to all that trouble. I’ll take you up on the ride home then figure out the jumper cables tomorrow. I’m sure Jared, Stephanie’s boyfriend, has some.”

He gestured toward his truck. “It’s no trouble.” Sophie walked toward his vehicle. He let her get a two-step lead before he did a quick pants adjustment and followed. He opened the passenger door, enjoying her impressed look at his chivalry.

“I’m not a total heathen.”

She laughed softly. “I never said you were.”

Marc climbed behind the steering wheel and started the car. The devil inside prompted him to tackle an issue that had been niggling at him all night, despite his mental pep talk. “So…you and Chuck Nelson were an item.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Jesus. He never wastes much time spilling that tidbit. We dated for two months. It’s a time I like to call my ‘era of low self-esteem’. Fortunately it didn’t take me too long to snap out of it and dump his ass.”

Marc couldn’t resist teasing her when he stopped at a red light. “According to Chuck, you dumped him because he was too big.”

Sophie’s jaw dropped.

He reached over, lightly closing her mouth. “Careful,” he joked, “or you’ll catch flies.”

“He
said
that?” Her voice was filled with so much anger, he worried he may have to represent Sophie in court. Her face reflected pure murder.

“Sophie—” he began, wondering how to calm her down.

She cut him off. “I said he
was
the biggest dick, not he
had
the biggest dick.”

“Oh well, that’s an easy mistake to make,” Marc teased.

“I think Chuck and I are going to have a little come-to-Jesus meeting tomorrow. There’s no way I’m going to let him keep spreading that bullshit around. Goddamn pencil-dick ignoramus.”

Marc laughed. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Sophie tilted her head, her anger dissipating quickly. “Since when have you ever been on anything
but
my bad side?”

“Aw, come on, Soph. You know you’re hot for me.”

She gave him a wicked grin. “Now that I think about it, you and Chuck have a lot in common.”

He narrowed his eyes, unhappy about being compared to her idiot ex. “We have nothing in common and if you continue to insist we do, I’ll be forced to prove just how different we are.”

“Turn here. My house is the third one on the left,” she said as he approached her street. A successful dodge for Ms. Kennedy.

He pulled into her driveway. Again, he was taken aback. Her little house wasn’t ostentatious or fancy. It was small, simple. It actually reminded him a great deal of
his
house. “Nice place.”

Sophie’s smile proved she was quite fond of her home. “It’s a rental, not mine, but I love it. The neighborhood’s quiet and safe and the rent is affordable. I’ve been here for nearly two years.”

Marc got out of the car, intending to open Sophie’s door for her. She beat him to it, stepping out. As he rounded the hood, he caught her wince. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, though she was still grimacing. “My feet are killing me.”

He glanced down at her high heels. “No wonder.”

She gave him an annoyed look. “I’m usually fine in my heels, but I was on my feet more than I’d expected tonight. Plus these shoes are new and not exactly broken in.”

He offered his arm, which she took with unexpected ease, leaning on it enough to let him know she wasn’t kidding about her aching feet. When they reached the front porch, she opened the door then turned to smile at him.

“Thanks for the ride home.”

He glanced through the open doorway. She’d left a light on in the living room, allowing him to see part of her couch. “Come on.”

BOOK: Bachelor's Bait
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