Suddenly Sexy (5 page)

At least she didn't tell him he was an idiot like Carla, his girlfriend.
Ex
-girlfriend. She'd decided she preferred dating a CEO to a nobody and had packed her bags after telling him how selfish he was for not thinking of her before quitting. It seemed she was under the impression that using his corporate credit card to take her friends out to dinner when he worked late was in his job description.

"Still want to go on a date with an unemployed bum?"

"Of course. But maybe we should go Dutch."

He grinned. "No way. I asked you out, so it's my treat. I think I can still manage a pizza."

"Are you sure?" She glanced over her shoulder at him as she walked back into her bedroom to retrieve her purse. "Because I can eat a lot of pizza."

Joey's Pizza Parlor was full of families enjoying a Friday night out. Sam seemed to like the noise and activity of excited children high on Coke and junk food. Maddie wasn't so sure. She liked kids, but a volume control would be nice.

They sat in a corner and ordered a pizza each. Sam doubtfully asked her if she could manage on her own.

"I told you I liked pizza," she said. "And I've got a big appetite."

"I like that in a woman. And you don't show it."

"I hope not. I've worked hard enough on the treadmill to make sure it doesn't."

"You run on a treadmill?" He shook his head. "You should try the great outdoors. It's much more exhilarating running in the open air, the breeze on your skin, the smell of—"

"Dog doo-doo on your shoes? No thank you. Besides, I run kind of funny. People will laugh."

Sam laughed.

"See!"

He took her hand and rubbed his thumb across the fleshy part between her thumb and forefinger. She froze. Sam Hennessy was touching her again. Twice in one night! Wait till she told Cynthia Bolowski. Damn, but it felt good. Made her feel warm and gooey inside.

He let go, and Maddie missed the intimacy.

"I'm not laughing at you," he assured her, glancing around the restaurant. He looked a little flustered but she didn't know why. She was the one sitting opposite her high school idol. He was sitting opposite the high school nerd. Maybe he was embarrassed.

But he seemed to compose himself. "If you come jogging with me tomorrow around Albert Park I promise I won't laugh. Even if you run like a girl."

She rolled her eyes. "I think I'll pass."

"Why?" He studied her and she glared back at him but lost her nerve after only a few seconds because he had eyes like a deep lake, easy to drown in. She didn’t want to drown. She focused on the table instead.

"It'll be fun," he went on. "I like company when I go jogging."

"Well I don't." Maybe. She had no idea because she'd never run with anyone else before, and she wasn't going to start now. She had to be careful not to get too comfortable around Sam, or too close. This fling wasn't permanent and certainly wasn't going to last beyond the weekend. Probably he'd regret asking her to join him by Monday morning, after she stopped using Pheramour. No point starting something now that would only make them feel awkward later.

"So tell me, Sam," she said, hoping to distract him, "why did you leave National Paints? I thought you had a great job there."

"I did. I gained a lot of experience, but it was time to move on."

"So you've got another job to go to?"

"No."

"Oh. But you'll be looking of course."

He shook his head. "I think I'll start my own business. I've always wanted to renovate houses. I love restoring old places, peeling back the layers to discover their original glory then breathing new life into them."

"Sounds wonderful." She meant it. It
sounded
great, romantic even, but the reality was probably quite different. Dusty for starters, and messy. Very messy. "Old places have character. Take my house for example. It's got so much character it gets frightened during thunderstorms. Seriously, it trembles and everything."

He laughed, a deep, throaty laugh that resonated in his chest. Maddie wanted to press her ear to his ribs and listen to that laugh all night. Of course, the added bonus would be feeling the hard muscles she suspected lay beneath his shirt.

"How about I make your place my first project. You live in an inner city weatherboard don't you?"

Uh-oh. "I can't afford to pay you."

"I won't charge an old friend."

"We weren't friends. You barely spoke two words to me in high school and when you did—"

He held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I get the picture. So we weren't close. I was two years older, so I guess it's not surprising. Anyway, I won't charge you. You're my best friend's sister-in-law. Besides, Linda would skin me if I asked you to pay."

Maddie relaxed. Thank God he'd stopped her before she put her foot in her mouth and mentioned the nerd thing. She didn't want to dig up the past when the evening was going along so nicely. "Lucky you worked at National Paints," she said. "I guess you gained a lot of knowledge about the right paints to use."

His brows forked. "I guess. I never thought of it that way."

"You never planned it to happen like this?" That didn't make sense. Everyone with a dream made sure they followed a path that would help them to fulfill it one day. Sort of like studying or doing an apprenticeship. Why else would he work for a paint company if he wasn't interested in using paint in his dream job?

"I only recently decided I wanted to start my own renovating business." He shrugged. "I mean, I've always been a handy man and I like old houses, but I didn't think about turning my hobby into a job until I quit National."

"Oh." She blinked at him. He quit
before
he made his decision? "How strange," she said weakly.

"You think so?" He rubbed his jaw. "I never plan too far ahead. I prefer to go with the flow. If a job offer comes my way and it feels right, I take it. When it no longer feels right, I quit. I guess I'm fortunate in that I'm in a financial position to start up my own business now. It'll take a while to get going and money'll get tighter but," he shrugged, "I'll just ask the bank for a loan when that happens."

Maddie couldn't believe what she was hearing. She wanted to stand up and shout "madness, just madness" like some loony character from a B-grade horror movie, but that would attract too much attention.

"Have you worked out how long you can survive before you'll need the loan?" she asked.

"Nope."

"But surely you've got a plan, at least in your head."

"A plan? You mean a financial one?"

She leaned forward and nodded. This was her area. Plans were what she was good at. "Yeah, like the cost of materials, a fee schedule that you'll charge in the first year, the second and so on until the business becomes viable."

He shrugged. "I used to do all that stuff in my day job. It got pretty dull after a while."

"The banks will need it."

"And I’ll give it to them when the time comes." He gave her a typical Sam Hennessy lopsided, who-gives-a-damn grin. "Don’t worry about it, Maddie. It’ll all work out fine."

That grin unhinged her. She’d been thinking about financials and business plans and then he completely turned her mind to mush with that smile. Not to mention what was happening to her insides. Her stomach was flip flopping all over the place and her inner thighs, well, she never knew there was a pulse located down there.

Damn, but he was handsome. Gorgeous. The best looking man she'd seen. So why was such an attractive and friendly man still single? Usually she'd be asking herself an additional question—what the hell was he doing there with her? But she knew the answer to that. Pheramour.

She hid her smile behind her hand. Thank God for chemical reactions because she was going to enjoy this while it lasted. As much as her conscience would allow anyway.

Or maybe beyond that, like into the bedroom kind of beyond. Definitely maybe.

"Answer me one question," she said, trying to focus. "How did you get to be CEO of National Paints with such a lousy business brain?"

His frown deepened. "Gee, don't spare my feelings or anything."

"Sorry. But I
am
a little curious."

He shrugged. "No big secret. I can talk. End of story. I know what to say, when to say it and," he leaned forward and brushed his fingertips lazily down her cheek to her chin, "how to say it."

Oh yeah, did he ever. That one simple movement, so tender but so masculine, unlocked something deep inside. Her throat and chest constricted. Her tongue went dry and thick. Imagine that seductive touch over her entire body, down her stomach, her thighs, her...oh boy.

"It's a talent, and it's got me through more interviews, press releases and meetings than I can count."

Get a grip, Maddie. It’s only the Pheramour talking.
"How many different jobs have you had?"

He glanced up at the ceiling just as their pizzas arrived. "Including the gig where I dressed as a hot dog at Jerry's Hot Dog House when I was fifteen, I think it's about twenty-eight."

"Twenty-eight! I've only had two. One during university at a book store and this one at BioDerma was my first after uni."

He picked up a slice of pizza and piled the topping back on when it fell off. "You haven't lived until you've had at least ten."

She shook her head. "I won't have
that
many. I plan on moving up the ranks at BioDerma in the next eight years but after that I'll consider switching companies, unless BioDerma can offer me something worthwhile to stay. Then I'll be where I want to be and I'll retire at around fifty. Of course, if I have children that'll put everything on hold by about a year but that's okay because I've factored that in." She'd been factoring it in for years now, readjusting every time a relationship fell through.

He stared, mouth open to receive the pizza halted mid-route. "Sounds like you've got it all figured out."

She chewed and nodded. Her work life was running like clockwork. It was her private life that lagged behind the schedule by approximately three years. She was supposed to be married with one child by now, the second one to be conceived early next year.

If only meeting decent men was as easy as studying for an exam or mixing a few chemicals to develop a non-allergenic hand cream, she'd have the whole marriage and baby thing all wrapped up by now.

Sam was the complete opposite. He'd floated aimlessly through life but somehow managed to land on solid ground. Women fell over themselves to date him, he drove a Porsche and he was about to turn his hobby into his dream job.

The only way
she
could get a date was to trick a man with a synthetic pheromone.

Life really sucked sometimes, but it could be worse. She could be sitting across a pizza tray from Beaker right now if he hadn't left work early.

***

Sam tried not to look at the woman sitting in the passenger seat of his car, but he was a sucker for a curvaceous figure and a sexy mouth.

He couldn't believe how much fun the date with Maddie had been. Not only was she easy on the eyes, she was great company. Funny, smart and a sassy attitude to keep him on his toes. Not to mention challenging. He liked a challenge.

He tried to remember what she'd been like in high school but he couldn't. She was a distant memory. Not a bad memory, just a fuzzy one. She'd been quiet, shy and, as he'd said to Linda earlier, immature. Considering he was two years older, a huge gap for teenagers, it wasn't surprising he thought of her that way.

The only other clear recollection he had of her was the time she'd made him feel stupid. He'd had a science test to study for and she'd tried to explain her sure-fire way of remembering the chemistry symbols in the table of elements. To have his friend’s little sister tutor him had been embarrassing enough, but when he’d failed miserably because he couldn’t remember a single element, it had been downright humiliating.

Ever since then he'd been a little intimidated by her intelligence and purposely avoided her. He hated admitting that, but fifteen years later, thankfully, he was man enough to understand it at least.

Not that he could say it out loud. His ego would never forgive him.

"Where are we going?" Maddie asked.

"Mount Dandenong."

"Make-out Mountain? I haven't been there for years."

"Me either. Thought it would be nice to reminisce up there. It's got a great view of the city."

"It might be full of horny teenagers."

Then he'd blend right in. He felt like a teenager again, wanting to touch this sexy woman everywhere and hear her whisper his name. Or shout it. Yeah, definitely shout it.

Only this time, it wasn't just any girl he happened to ask on a date at the last minute. This time it was Maddie Clarke, high school brain who'd turned into the only woman he wanted to be with right now. He'd known it since last night at Pete's place. Thankfully, she hadn't taken much convincing. And thankfully Linda had pushed him to take the first step.

Mount Dandenong's lookout was deserted so Sam was able to angle the Porsche to get the best view of the city. Not that he planned on seeing much of it.

"Guess the teenagers have found another place to make-out," said Maddie, digging her nails into the car seat and staring straight ahead.

Sam leaned across and touched her hand. "Don't be nervous."

"Nervous? I'm not nervous." She laughed. "What makes you think I'm nervous?"

"You're tearing up my car seat."

She retracted her nails. "Sorry."

"Don't be." He rubbed his fingers along hers. She had nice hands, fine-boned and slender with shortish nails. He liked short nails. The long, talon-like ones made him anxious during foreplay. "They're just car seats."

"Expensive car seats."

He shuffled closer and placed his arm across the back of her seat. "Don't worry about it. I'll be selling the Porsche now that I'm going into the building trade."

The Porsche was just a car. It hadn't always been just a car, it had once been his kick-ass dream car. The one he'd always wanted to own. The one he'd wanted to drive past Mr. Dixon, his English teacher, and shout, "See! I did amount to something."

But that was when he'd graduated from high school. The sentiment disappeared when he left Melbourne, but his idea of the dream car had remained. Eventually that had evaporated too when he actually bought the Porsche three years ago and he realized it was nice to drive and great for picking up women, but Chewy, his golden Labrador retriever, didn't fit in the back seat unless he had the sun roof open. Combing out the knots from Chewy's coat was a chore he could do without.

Sam would sell the car as soon as he bought a place of his own. Not that he didn't like living with his mother again—it was nice having home cooked meals—but he hated the constant questions about where he was going and with whom.