Making the Grade (5 page)

“I know.”

She groaned. “Freddy’s your sister? Damn.”

“Tell me about it. All I knew was that the woman I finally had a chance to go out with blatantly admitted to wanting to be with me for my millions. Then she kept mentioning my connections and my money throughout dinner.”

He had the satisfaction of seeing her turn red as she answered, “I was teasing you.”

“I know that now. At the time, I’d thought you were another scheming user out to take me for what you could.”

She scowled. “So you thought to teach me a lesson by fucking me?”

The crude words sounded odd on her lips, but the images they provoked made him hard. He sat beside her, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“No. I was going to call it a night and just not talk to you again. I’ve been with women wanting nothing more from me than my wallet. It burns. I’m tired of being used. I thought we’d go our separate ways.”

She seemed to soften. “But…?”

“But then I put my hand on your shoulder, and I couldn’t think of anything but getting closer to you.”
Like right now.
“I didn’t mean to kiss you, or to take it that far.” He cleared his throat and stood before he kissed her all over again. Then he backed away from her, trying to get a handle on his resurgent lust. “I lost all control. That kiss… I know it’s no excuse, but you went straight to my head.”

To his relief, she blushed. “Oh. Well, that chemistry worked both ways. I can’t blame you for all of it.”

“Yeah.” He swallowed hard. “I’m not sorry for what happened between us, only for how it ended. I swear, I never meant for things to get ugly. It’s just… I’ve been used before, and it’s not a great feeling.”

“I can empathize.”

“I’ll bet. You’re gorgeous. You must have guys hitting on you all the time.”

Her cheeks remained pink. “Kind of.”

“So you know how hard it is to be looked at for more than what you can do for people.”

“Yes, but Brian, you’re really good-looking. Any woman would want you for more than your wallet. You have to know that.”

It was his turn to feel uncomfortable. “I guess.”

“Please. You’re handsome, built and come with your own cheering squad. You can’t be having that much trouble getting a date.”

“I could say the same about you.”

She didn’t answer.

“My point is that I overreacted instead of asking you if you meant what you said, and I’m sorry. I didn’t like having sex with you and walking away.”

“Oh?”

Realizing how that might have sounded, he hurried to clarify. “I mean, being with you was incredible. I want to do it again. But I wanted us to know each other first. To like each other as people.” He felt like a moron when she just stared at him. He wondered if he sounded weak and needy. Maybe his father was right about him after all. “Shit. This was a mistake. I just wanted you to know the truth of what happened. It really wasn’t you. It was me.” He turned to go, wishing he could be as smooth with Faith as he was during board meetings. For that matter, he was usually pretty good at talking to women. With Faith, he seemed to constantly say or do the wrong things.

“Brian, wait.”

He turned to see Faith unfold from the couch.

“Maybe…maybe we could start over.” She paused. “Just how rich are you?”

He quirked a brow. “This is starting over?”

“Sorry. Forget I asked. Look, I’m not into rich guys and their need to be better than everyone else.”

“That’s not me. And for the record, I’m not into spoiled women and their need to be coddled forever. I just want to find a woman I like and can have fun with.”

“Right.”

“Right.”

After a moment Faith said, “We obviously find each other attractive. We have friends in common. And we don’t want to be used.”

“All true.” He crossed his arms over his chest and hid a grin when her gaze followed the movement and lingered.

She glanced back at his face and nodded. “So maybe we should start over. Slowly. And we should wait on being intimate again.” Her gaze slid down his body. She bit her lip, then returned her gaze to his face.

He hated to agree, but she made sense. “Not until we’re both comfortable with each other.”

“Yes. That means we get to know things about each other.”

“Like what?”

“Like favorite colors, foods. Stuff we like and don’t like to do. Opinions on things.”

He nodded. “I’d recommend meeting in public.” Since the truth had been working for him, he added, “Because this close to you, all I want to do is strip you down and make love to you again.”

She swallowed. “Really?”

Brian blew out a breath. “Hell, yeah.”

Her gaze lowered again to his evident erection. “Oh, um. Sorry.”

“I’ll live.”

She smiled at him, and his heart thudded in his chest. “How about bowling tomorrow? Martinez Lanes?”

“I’m game. I’m also a helluva bowler. You won’t cry when you lose?”

She snorted. “Please. I can bowl you under the table, lightweight.”

This was the Faith he’d been dying to take out. The fun, charming, sexy woman with the wide grin. “You’re on, Sumner. I’ll meet you at the alley at seven.”

“Fine. But loser pays for the beer.”

A bet he could live with. “Bring your wallet.”

“You too, moneybags.”

He left her apartment with a smile on his face. The possibilities were endless…now that he had a second chance.

Chapter Four

Faith bowled like a champ, but that was hardly a surprise to her.

“I think I’ve been swindled.” Brian glared as he saw her numbers add up on the screen above them.

“I was champ of my bowling league years ago. Of course, I played because I worked at the alley.”

“This alley?” He stepped up, released his ball, and watched as he knocked down eight of the ten pins. “Hell.”

“At least it’s not a split.” She sipped her sweet tea and smiled, surprised to be having so much fun.

“So you’re a ringer. What else do you do abominably well?”

She liked his snooty tone, especially because he was putting her on with that voice and the way he pretended to look down his nose at her. The real Brian, she was coming to find out, liked to laugh. He preferred beer to wine, pizza to anything gourmet, and jeans and a sweatshirt to a suit.

She decided she might as well lay it all on the line for him. “I’m hell on wheels with a gun, a tent or a fishing pole.”

He stared at her.

“Brian, your ball is back.” She nodded at the ball return.

“Let me get this straight. You like shooting guns, camping and fishing? And bowling,” he tacked on as he grabbed his ball.

“Yep.”

He shook his head, then stepped up to the lane and paused before letting the ball fly. The sneak bowled a spare, tying her score.

“Guess I’m not the only one good at bowling,” she muttered.

 
He walked back to sit beside her. As usual, just being close to him made her sizzle. No doubt about it, she and Brian had a unique chemistry. She would have sworn he was wearing some kind of cologne to attract her, but she didn’t recognize any scent on him but pure Brian Goode.

He shook his head. “You’re too good to be true. You wear a manicure, could earn a fortune as a model if you wanted to, draw attention even in those ratty jeans—”

“Hey.” True—they were ratty. Just another test Brian had passed by not judging her for it.

“And you like fun stuff too. Never dated a woman who admitted to liking to fish before. I mean, getting your nails done, going to wine tastings, art museums, those I could see you liking.”

“Now who’s stereotyping?” She rose and took her turn on the lane, doing her best to ignore his stare burning into her back. To her chagrin, she only knocked six pins down. Damn it.

“I am, I admit. But women who look like you normally don’t ’fess up to liking manly crap.”

“Is this some sneaky way of charming me with an obnoxious front?”

He chuckled. “Hey, you wanted honesty. I’m giving it to you. Personally, I love your interests. Well, all except fishing. Frankly, it bores me. But hunting, camping, bowling, sure. You could add golf to the mix. It’s addictive.”

She wouldn’t know. She’d never had the money to afford the greens fees. All the other activities she’d grown up with, a result of a poor family and living in a trailer in the bumfuck country outside of Grovetown, Georgia. She shot a rifle so they had deer during the winter. She fished so they had other things to eat beside peanut butter and jelly and ramen noodles.

“Not a fan of golf.” She shrugged.

“Ever been?”

“No.”

“We’ll have to go. Don’t worry, we’ll take it slow and hit some balls.”

She gave him a wicked grin. “Now
that
sounds like fun.” He made a face and crossed his legs, and she laughed.
 
“Doofus.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep taunting me, sugar.” He had a Southern accent he hadn’t been able to mask, despite his years away from Augusta. She could tell he’d grown up Down South. “Still won’t keep me from beating your ass—
my
kind of fun.”

She flushed. They could talk, but somehow the conversation always hit on something sexual. Even worse, she read into everything he said with her dirty, dirty mind.

Frustrated, she tossed him a glare before knocking down the rest of the pins.

“Ha. Take that, Goode.”

“Bring it, Sumner.”

They continued to banter until the last frame, when Faith pulled ahead by four points.

“You cheated,” he complained as he walked her out to the parking lot. They’d parked next to each other, under an orange street light.

“Oh?” She unlocked the door and moved to enter, but he stopped her.

Just his hand on her arm made her tingle in all the wrong places.

“Yeah. You kept wriggling that ass at me. When you bent down… I’m only human.”

She grinned at him. “Please. You were doing your own bumping and grinding, but you don’t see me complaining.”

He moved closer. “Yeah?”

She put her hand on his chest to stop him and froze. The heat under her palm, as well as his racing heartbeat, aroused her like crazy. What was it about him? “Um, yeah.” She licked her lips, not thrilled when he followed the movement with his darkening gaze. She only had so much willpower… “Brian, we’re not doing this, right?”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “We’re meeting in public. No sex until we know each other better.” Then he kissed her, his lips caressing hers, his breath a whisper into her body. He pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers. “Faith, you’d better go.”

She nodded and kissed him back, lingering over his taste. She wanted more, and damn him for not protesting when she pulled him closer.

“Yeah, I’d better.” She settled against his erection, remembering how good he’d felt inside her. So crazy to be so in lust with the man. She still knew little about him.

He put his hands on her hips to stop her, and she realized she’d been grinding against him to get closer.

“Stop moving,” he growled and lowered his voice. “Unless you want me to come in my pants.”

Knowing he wanted her, was so affected by her, gave her a heady sense of her own power. But she’d made the rules. If she wanted him to abide by them, she had to color within the lines as well.

“Sorry.” She stopped moving while every cell in her body screamed at her to press harder. “Th-thanks for the game.”

“My pleasure.” He took a deep breath, then stepped back, keeping his hands on her hips. “My sister is having a dinner party this Thursday. You going?”

She nodded. “Harper texted me the invitation. He said it was a housewarming party.”

“Yeah. For him, Freddy and Dylan.” He chuckled. “I don’t know how Freddy handles two lovers. I can barely handle one.”

She raised a brow.

“Sure, every guy fantasizes about two women. It’s what porn dreams are made of.”

“Nice, Brian.” She grinned.

“Fortunately, I’m not that crazy. One woman is hard enough. Imagine trying to deal with two women so in love with me they’d fight tooth and nail for my attention.” He winked, smoothing his arrogance with humor. “I figure one woman is all I can handle. Especially when she’s so sincere about telling me to shove it up my own ass.”

Faith blushed. “You deserved it.”

“I did.”

They stared at each other, and his grip on her hips tightened before he let her go and stepped back. “So, Thursday.”

She nodded. “I’ll be there.”

“Then Friday, you owe me a date.”

She frowned. “I owe you?”

“For letting you win tonight.”

“
Excuse
me?”

“Something I said?” He chucked her under the chin, laughed and darted around to his car before she could curse him out. He rolled down his passenger-side window. “Thursday, Faith. I’ll pick you up at seven.”