Foolproof (7 page)

I turned the price tag over and smiled.

You
’re going down.

Chapter Fourteen

Ryan

I didn’t know what Jules had planned for Fourth of July weekend, but I doubted it was as important as the camping trip to the Sierra Nevadas that Blake and I had planned. I was looking forward to hiking and just getting away from everything.

Pulling on some gym shorts and a Baylor shirt, I made my way out of the locker room of Dixon, the Drexler University gym that I’d gotten a summer pass to, and met Blake at the weights. The way Jules stared at my arms made me want to double my reps, just to give her more to look at.

Blake may have had a few inches on me in height, but I more than made up for it with weight I could lift. He slid onto the incline bench and readied his hands on the bar. I walked around the back of the bench and positioned myself on the step, hands under the bar, ready to catch it if Blake slipped up or got too tired to push it back up. He never did.

He breathed roughly through his nose and pushed the bar off the stand. “So, you’re going for her?”

How did he know? I hadn’t even told him how I felt about Jules. I didn’t even know how I felt about her yet. “Who’s her?”

“Don’t play stupid. I saw the way you looked at her. It was written all over your face.” He lowered the bar and let out another harsh breath, pushing it back up.

“It crossed my mind.”

“She’s not really the hit and quit type.”

“Neither am I.” And maybe that’s where I’d gone wrong. If I’d just kept it casual, I wouldn’t have had my heart shredded.

“Just saying, she deserves someone who isn’t going to leave in a few weeks.”

I scoffed, focusing back on spotting Blake. “She’s not some delicate flower that I’m going to wilt.”

He pushed up the bar, his shaking arms placing the weights back on the rack with a loud clang. “She’s more delicate than you think.”

Were we talking about two different people? Delicate was the last word I’d use to describe Peach. Sexy and naughty fit the bill. That was made apparent when she bent her ass over the counter, like she wanted me to take her right then. I would have, too, if that damn customer wasn’t there. “Right, man.” My mission to hook up with her was in full swing. I wasn’t about to put the brakes on this because Blake thought she
might
be fragile. Plus, I’d make sure to handle every inch of her with care.

Jules was leaning over the counter, outright flirting with a customer while he filled out a rewards pamphlet, already off to a good start on the bet my dad started, as I walked into the store. I’d need to step up my game if I wanted the Fourth off. She straightened when she noticed me, the customer blatantly checking out her chest when she wasn’t looking. I clutched my fists, ignoring the need to physically remove this asshole.

It was my turn to change out prices today, which would take hours, especially since we were short-staffed. I’d need to steer customers toward the furniture center and sell them a chair and a protection plan in order to catch up with Jules. She definitely knew how to work people. Which made me wonder how those manicured nails would feel as they worked over my cock.

I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts out of my mind. I’d never sell anything at this rate if I had to face toward the shelves, hiding my erection.

Stepping behind the counter to grab the new product prices, Peach came up next to me and dropped a price tag into my hand.

“Read it later. Have a good day.” She winked and turned around to a customer who had walked up to the counter. “Did you find everything okay?”

Within seconds, she had another sucker signing up for a rewards card. Damn.

I unfolded the tag and pressed myself into the counter.

Going down is one of my specialties.

Fuck. She was going to be the end of me. My erection pressed against my pants, and I stood behind the counter trying to make it go down. Peach had a dirty mouth. One that I wanted on me, which didn’t help the pants situation.

Once everything was situated, I made my way out to the floor and replaced price tags, trying to come up with a response. Jules was nothing like Lex, who got pissy if I said anything dirty. Jules embraced it in the same way her work pants hugged her ass.

I peered around an endcap—another customer filling out a rewards pamphlet. Jules looked up from the computer screen and our gazes connected, a wry smile crossing her face.
Yes, Peach, I know you’re kicking my ass.
I needed to be up at the register selling products. It was the kiss of death that I had to spend the day changing out price tags. I scanned the store and spotted a customer milling around the office chairs and decided to go in for the kill. Peach wasn’t the only one who could flirt with customers. I was going to get the weekend of the Fourth off and spend time with my buddy. I needed to keep that at the forefront of my mind before I let thoughts of Peach get in the way.

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

A woman in her early forties swiped her thumb over her chin and appraised me in the same manner she’d been doing with the expensive leather chairs. “I think you can help,” she purred.

Cougar sighting on aisle fifteen.

I caught Peach staring at me from the register, her brows pinned together as she studied the older woman. Time to lay it on thick, show her she had some competition. I led the cougar by the arm to every expensive chair, complimenting how she looked wonderful in the chair, how it’d be a perfect addition to any office. She smiled and picked one of the thousand dollar ergonomic chairs. Jackpot. Dad would be pleased. These were a hard sell, not many people justifying a cloud for their ass.

As we walked up to the register, I made sure to say loud enough that Peach could hear, “I think it’d be a great idea to get a protection plan, just in case anything happens to the chair. Office Jax ensures your satisfaction.” Kill me. Dad must have come up with these slogans while watching eighties pornos.

“I love being satisfied,” Cougar purred.

I bet she did. Jules raised a brow and shot Cougar a quick glare. I moved behind the counter and rung up the sale.

“I’m here for all your printer and office needs.”

“And if I’m unsatisfied, what days could I come back to make sure you satisfy my customer needs?”

Calm down, lady.
The desperation wafted off her surgically plumped lips. “I’m here every weekday and Saturdays.”

Jules loudly cleared her throat and drummed her pink nails along the counter, staring daggers in my direction.

Cougar beamed a smile in my direction. “Great.”

I ran my fingers along the waist of Jules’s pants, the high counter concealing Cougar’s view, and stuck a price tag in her pocket.

She grabbed the note and unfolded it, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink as her eyes scanned the message.

Chapter Fifteen

Jules

As much as I’d love to see you on your knees, I’d rather have you on your back.

My tongue about rolled out of my mouth when I read Ryan’s message. Mr. Future Policeman had a dirty mouth. Most guys weren’t that forward, or if they were, it came out disgusting. But hearing this from Ryan set my stomach coiling. He had the right mix of sexy and intrigue. The only two qualities that could pull off bold statements and send a flash of heat straight to the space between my thighs.

I’d composed my face a second too late, Ryan smirking at my reaction. The jerk liked to see me all hot and bothered. Well, he wouldn’t be smiling when I won this competition. I could just see him with that delicious bottom lip pushed out in a pout when he saw his name on the shift instead of mine.

Another stupid nineties song came on the sound system, giving me an idea.

He wanted crude? I could be crude. I quickly scribbled
I’d make you say my name
onto a price tag and handed it to Ryan. His father called him to the furniture section over the intercom before he could read it. When he came back, he shoved a price tag across the counter in between customers.

R:
So selfish. It could be the summer of ’69.

Each of his notes had jagged squiggles outlining the perimeter, like he doodled while pondering what to say next.

J:
I’m on bended knee.

R:
You’ll be screaming Mmm Bop.

He raised a brow. “Too far?”

“Once you bring Hanson into the mix, there’s no going back.”

“Good to know.”

Another customer walked up to the counter, a guy with a comb-over and frumpy shirt tucked into his work pants. I nudged Ryan with my hip. “Excuse me. I need to ring up this customer.” Ryan bumped me once more with his elbow and disappeared into the back.

Mr. Comb-over pushed an electric pencil sharpener across the counter.

“Hello, sir, has Office Jax fulfilled your every office supply need?” God, I hated these stupid cheesmo lines Jack made us say, but the customers really seemed to eat them up.

“Yes, thank you.” He beamed and handed me his rewards card. I rang him up and sent him on his merry pencil-sharpening way.

As soon as the guy exited the store, the phone rang. I balanced the receiver between my shoulder and ear while I wiped down the register area.

“Office Jax, the place where your office supplies are all top rack at unbeatable prices, this is Jules, how may I help you?” I rolled my eyes as I said this.

A deep, sexy voice came through the receiver. “I was wondering if you had a certain model of printer in stock.”

Mmm, yes, hot phone voice, maybe I do
. “Which model, sir?”

He rattled off a printer that I knew we had on display up front, but couldn’t see any stocked below the sample. I had to ask him the model number twice, his gravelly voice clouding my ability to process numbers. What was with me lately? Normally, hormones didn’t render me completely useless. This most likely was the result of the dirty-note-passing marathon today. Each time Ryan passed me a price tag, my stomach would dip as I waited for a moment without prying customers’ eyes. I focused back on Sexy Phone Voice Guy and wrote down the model number on a slip of paper and said, “Let me check, hold please.”

I turned to Courtney, who had just arrived for the afternoon shift, still tucking her Office Jax shirt into her pants. “Can you watch the registers for a minute? I need to check if we have a printer in back.”

She smiled and stepped behind the customer service counter, pulling her unruly curls into a ponytail. “No problem.”

I grabbed the slip of paper and looked at the printer endcap. No boxed printer underneath the display. The only other place it could be was in the warehouse area. I made my way to the back, casually eying the aisles for Ryan. Probably hitting on another cougar. I shouldn’t have cared, but I did. The way she looked at him, like he was something to eat, had my inner claws itching to protract. He was all sorts of lickable, but dammit, I didn’t want her to lay a hand on him.

As I stewed over stupid cougar lady, I pushed through the swinging double doors into the back warehouse. A strong arm gripped around my waist and pulled me into a cleaning supply closet, and Ryan slammed the door shut.

“You remember that printer model number?”

He kissed my neck, heat pooling in the bottom of my stomach like a volatile chem reaction. Ryan’s lips plus my neck yielded infinite endorphins named
please give me sexy times
.

“That was you?” I said between raspy breaths. God, he had a sexy phone voice, a little deeper than his normal tone. He lifted me and propped me on a step of a ladder leaning against the wall. My legs wrapped around his waist, and he moved closer, pressing his erection against me. Our mouths crashed together and I dug my fingers through his hair, fighting for breath.

He pulled away and cupped my face in his hands. “I’ve been thinking about you since last night.” He ran his hand over my thigh and gripped my hip tightly. “You’re driving me insane. Next time you stick your ass in front of me, I won’t hesitate to take you right there.” He rocked his hips into me for emphasis. I let out a whimper, wanting exactly that.

“I’d like a demonstration for clarification purposes.”

His mouth crashed into mine again and his hands worked at unbuttoning my pants.

Just as he made his way to my zipper, a voice boomed over the speakers, one placed right above the storage room, echoing through the small space. “Ryan, please report to the furniture section for customer support.” Jack’s tone held an edge of annoyance. Why did he always seem mad whenever he talked to his son? Shit.
His
son. The one I had my legs wrapped around, getting freaky next to a bucket full of bleach water and moldy mops.

“We’ll continue this later.” He nipped on my collarbone as I unwrapped my legs from his waist. He walked out of the supply room, the door shutting quietly behind him. I heaved out a sigh and banged the back of my head against a rung of the ladder. What was it about him that I couldn’t resist? I needed this job more than anything, but there was no way I could quit this now.

After taking a minute to compose myself, I headed back to the front, Courtney still manning the Customer Service counter. Her bushy brows furrowed as I slid behind the counter. Crap, was I still flushed? I must have been if she was giving me weird looks.

“Find everything you need?”

“Yeah. It was hot in back.” I fanned my face for emphasis.
Please buy my bullshit,
I thought
,
while pleading with my eyes that she should let it go.

She shrugged and went back to organizing the junk drawer. “Jack needs to put an AC back there.”

I blew out a silent sigh, thanking the gods that she bought my response. The last thing I needed was someone to tell Jack what Ryan and I did during store hours.

I peered across the store, where I caught Ryan and his dad arguing in hushed tones in the furniture section. Even without yelling, his body language screamed
you, child of mine, piss me off just by breathing.
I knew the look. Same one Mom gave me
.
Guess they were done playing nice with each other for today. What was their deal? How could he always be so mad at him when Ryan wasn’t doing anything wrong? Well, he didn’t know Ryan had done anything wrong, at least.

Definitely needed more information on the Ryan front. And I knew just who to go to for the 411.

Payton was mixing cookie dough in her red KitchenAid when I walked into the apartment after work. I threw my purse on the counter and ran my hand through my hair as I tried to decide how to ask her about Ryan. He said she thought he was the devil’s spawn. Why?

She stopped the mixer, took the blade out of the bowl, and handed it to me. “Convert anyone’s software into hardware today?”

If she only knew. “Ha-ha.” I licked off the cookie dough and with my mouth full, I said, “No, but I unzipped someone’s files.” I waggled my brows.

“Check them for malware first?”

“Virus report came back clean.” I licked another glob of cookie dough off the beater and asked, “So, what’s the deal with Ryan?”

Might as well shoot straight from the hip. With a Ruger.

Her brow shot up her forehead, but she kept focused on the task of balling up cookie dough and placing it on the cookie sheet. “What about him?”

“The night of the beach trip, before we left, you called him a douche. Just wondering why.”

“Because he is one?” She sighed, clutching the ball of dough. “Ryan’s just Ryan. He’s always been a little immature, although he seems to have gotten better since he went to Baylor. Too bad he failed out.”

“Failed out?” I thought he’d quit.

“Yeah, I don’t know the whole story. Didn’t even tell Blake until he got back to Spring Hill. Must’ve been pretty embarrassed if he withheld that.” She raised her hand, her index and middle finger intertwined. “Those two are like Thing 1 and Thing 2.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know how I felt about him flunking out. A lot of my friends from freshman year dropped out after first semester when they realized that partying every night wasn’t conducive to making grades. Not many people made it three years just to drop out. He seemed like a smart guy, didn’t scream marathon partier, so what was the deal?

“Why?”

“Nothing.” I kept my eyes trained on the cookie dough. “I just think he’s cute.”

“Don’t get me wrong. He’s a nice guy. Just has a lot of growing up to do.”

“What’s up with him and his dad?”

“Ryan’s dad is super controlling. They used to be…not well off. And now that he is successful, he wants to make sure Ryan is as well. Even if Ryan doesn’t want to follow in his footsteps. It’s been like this since high school.”

“Sad.” I knew what it was like to have parents push you into things that you didn’t want. But unlike Ryan, I was still on the escalator of parent appeasement. Not only my career, but counseling—which ended up being a good thing. And there was that horrible three year stint of oboe lessons. Seriously, who thought making their tone-deaf kid play an instrument was a good idea? My music teacher sure didn’t appreciate it, if her glass full of scotch during our private lessons was any indication.

God, two peas in a pod with the messed up family situations. Not like it mattered, though. Hookups didn’t need to know the nitty-gritty details, they just needed to know how to insert tab
A
into slot
B
.