Surviving Love (Montana Wilds Book 1) (24 page)

Greg shrugged and glanced out his window. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was embarrassed.
Odd.

“No comment about me looking into your life, huh?” she pressed, leaning forward to see more of his features. “No smart-ass comment?”

His grin didn’t resurface. He shrugged again.

Uncertainty niggled at her insides. Suddenly, there was a heaviness to this conversation she couldn’t interpret. Something weighed on his actions and hinted at a deeper meaning in his secrecy. She didn’t know if it was because of her, or something else in his life.

Backing off, she turned in her seat to face front. “So
she,
huh? This truck is a girl?”

“Of course. Can’t go around talking about a truck like it was a man. What’s wrong with you?”

“And why can’t you, sexist?”

Greg scoffed. “It’s a truck. I have to take care of it.”

“And you don’t take care of other guys? You don’t watch Mike’s back?”

“Sure, I watch Mike’s back.” Greg turned the wheel into a gravel driveway a dozen miles outside of town, and a mile from the nearest bus stop. “But I take care of a woman. Or…at least…I’d like to.”

A surge of butterflies swarmed Christie’s insides. “Aww. Aren’t you sweet.” She patted the dashboard. “So the truck is like a puppy, is that it? You’ll try to take care of it, and if you succeed, you’ll get a girlfriend?”

Greg shook his head and knocked the truck into park. “Something like that.”

“Well. Best of luck, Chuck. And thanks for the ride.” Christie pulled at the handle. The door stayed shut.

Greg swung his door open and got out.

A moment of aggravated panic arrested her. She searched the plethora of buttons at her disposal, found one that looked like a lock, and poked it. Her window jerked down. “Dang it!”

Greg crossed around the front, slow and purposefully, his weight shifting from side to side like a lumbering bear. The wind rippled the front of his white T-shirt in the valley between his pecs and attempted to affect the sleeves, tight around his biceps.

“Hur-ry…” Christie poked another button, lighting it up. She tried the handle again. Nothing happened. “Shit!”

Greg curved around her side, looking out toward the mountains. His dark hair ruffled and danced.

“What the hell, truck? Women shouldn’t hate on other women. We gotta stick together!” Christie jerked at the handle again before shouldering the door. She jabbed every button in sight, finally getting one that clicked. The lock on the top of the door popped upward. She snatched at the handle again, but grabbed empty air. The door swung open, revealing a straight-faced Greg. His dusty green eyes surveyed her.

She sighed. “Not fair. I couldn’t figure out how to unlock the door.”

“So I gathered. Not real bright, are you?” He held out his hand. “Ma’am.”

Her irritated growl didn’t match her smile. “Thank you.” She took his warm hand and allowed him to help her out of the truck. “Next time I’ll get out in time, though. Maybe fast enough to open your door. What would you say then?”

“I would say thank you, since you’d bested me in the gentleman department. Of course, you’ll never do that, because I am awesome, so you should just give up and take it like a chick.” He shut the door behind her. “Hear that?
Take it
.”

“Jerk.” Christie laughed and fished her keys out of her handbag. She felt his presence behind her and rolled her eyes. “Our deal doesn’t extend to the door.”

“Take it.” He waited beside her as she fit the key in the lock of the tiny one-bedroom house. Technically, it was an unused shed poorly turned into a house while ignoring all the building codes, but it was cheap and it did the job. It was
hers—
until the rental agreement was up—and that was more than she could say about any other place she’d ever lived.

She took her key out of the lock and pushed open the door. Turning to Greg, she opened her arms so he would lean down for a hug. His big arms dwarfed her waist and his warmth made her shiver, realizing how chilled the weather had become.

“How
are you not freezing?” she asked, leaning back and waiting for him to do the same. The skin on his arm felt cool to her touch. She put her hand in the middle of his chest, then laughed as his pecs turned into boulders. “Easy, killer. Just trying to figure out the cause of your genetic enhancement. Are you made of lava? Or, I know—” She snapped. “You’re a shape shifter, right? Like from
Twilight
.”

“Admitting I knew what you were talking about would make me a laughing stock of this county.” Greg smirked and stepped away. He put his hands into his pockets and glanced past her. Inside.

“Okay. Well, thanks for the ride!” Christie threw him a wave and tramped into her house. Without a backward glance, she pushed the door shut. Then paused.

Blowing out a breath, she braced both palms against the worn wood, then leaned against the barrier for a moment, getting her bearings. Emotions, past and present, sifted down and settled around her, pushing and pulling. Warring with each other.

She turned and fell back against the door, breathing deeply and searching for that balance. She needed to find the calm of solitude. The safety of it. To shed the fear.

***

Greg blew out a breath and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. That hadn’t gone as he’d hoped. New job, new truck, more money, and just about ready to put an offer on his dream house—didn’t girls love all that stuff?

Or maybe she didn’t know about the house. He needed to be better at sharing his achievements.

Still, shiny new truck with an extended cab for kids or sex or a drum set—whatever.

He slipped his hands into his pockets and scuffed his shoe against the ground.

Good thing she didn’t have a peephole. She’d be able to see him standing there like a goon, trying to summon up the courage to knock on the door.

Hell with it.

He took three steps and raised his fist, ready to knock. Tense arm braced, he slightly leaned in and…dropped his hand with an exhale.

She’d say no. He knew she would. She didn’t let people into her home for some reason. It was like Fort Knox, protecting the most beautiful, pleasantly witty woman in the world. She’d say no, and he’d give away that he wanted more than friendship. That was the kiss of death. When a girl got a whiff that her guy friend wanted to knock boots, she hiked up her skirts and ran for the hills. That was Getting a Girl 101
.

Although, in a year of pursuing on the sly, he still hadn’t gotten any closer than a hug, a handshake, or a punch in the arm. He shouldn’t have asked her on a date those couple times. It had put her onto him. Women had long memories. Like elephants.

They could stomp on a man like an elephant, too.

He turned toward the truck and stared off into the distance. An image of her smile drifted into his memory, then the feel of her body as she pressed against him in that tight hug. Warmth seeped into his middle as other parts stiffened.

She really was a beauty. Those brilliant blue eyes, mischievous and kindhearted, sparkled right before she made him feel like a dummy. He liked smart women. She was funny, too. Perky and upbeat. She always had a quip to lighten anyone’s day.

For the millionth time, he wondered why she was so closed off. Was it him?

Another memory surfaced—her outside Sara’s hospital room nearly a year ago after the…
incident.
Christie had stopped, stared at nothing for a second with glistening eyes, and scowled. Then she’d swallowed, taken a deep breath, and shook herself out. After that, she was like an archangel, handling Sara and those around her with a practiced hand and a knowing, haunted look in her eye while working with Jake on how to get the best revenge. A woman didn’t know how to do all that off the top of her head. She must’ve lived through something terrible. Life changing.

Greg climbed into the truck and layered the top of the steering wheel with his forearms. The raspy bark of a raven sounded from a tree to the right. The great bird studied his truck with a beady black eye.

The girl even had attack birds. Fort Knox mixed with Alfred Hitchcock’s
The
Birds.
Horrifying stuff.

Greg turned the key with a shake of his head. Whatever had happened to her, she hadn’t explained, not even to Sara. From what Greg had heard, the few times Christie had broken down, she quickly wiped her face, and a moment later found a smile to beam at the world. She didn’t stay down for long.

Before he pulled out of the shoddy excuse for a driveway, Greg sent a last glance at that broken, disheveled door. Maybe she didn’t let anyone in her house because it was too like letting someone into her soul. She hid behind that old, decaying door, praying it held up through winter, never asking or accepting help to fix it, and never allowing anyone to pass through to the girl inside.

Greg knocked the truck into reverse.

Or maybe it was just him.

C
heck
out this light erotic romance
here
.

S
ynopsis
:

How far would you go for a job?

Hunter Carlisle is looking for a new admin. Filthy rich and sinfully handsome, he’s the bachelor everyone wants. But the job isn’t just getting him coffee. He wants complete control. Intimately.

Two rules: No kissing. No falling in love.

My bank account is nearly empty, rent is due in a week, and this is the only job available. But I don’t know if I can follow his rules. Just being in his presence sets my body on fire. Where is the line between duty, and pleasure?

My only defense is saying no, but everything in my body wants to say yes…

Can I decline the offer?

C
hapter One
:

I
dodged
a tourist on the busy sidewalk in downtown San Francisco. After stepping around another, I pushed through the glass door into the café before someone could bulldoze into me. The chill of the October day turned into lovely warmth as I did a quick sweep with my gaze. I noticed my friend immediately, sitting at the counter in the back with a book and a cup of coffee. It was hard to miss her. She had a shock of perfectly coiffured red hair falling in a loose curl to her mid-back. Her stylish clothes fit her body perfectly, accentuating her trim waist and natural curve. The latest in fashion, the knee-high boot on her left leg bounced slightly where it was gracefully draped over her right knee.

I threaded through the bustling space, dodging a chair that unexpectedly jutted toward me as someone tried to get up. “Oh, sorry!” I said as I turned sideways to squeeze by.

Kimberly looked up at the sound of my voice. She greeted me with a flawless smile and moved her Louis Vuitton handbag off the chair beside her.

I’d met Kimberly during my freshman year in college. She had been a senior at the time and in the university’s program to get promising freshmen on the right track. Most freshmen met their assigned senior once or twice, and then continued on with their lives. I would’ve done the same, not wanting to bother her, but week after week she’d checked in. As the year passed by, she was always there, supporting me and giving advice. And she still was. Nothing changed when she graduated. We weren’t in the same social class and came from different backgrounds, but still she called me every week. She was sweet as well as beautiful, and I was thankful for her friendship.

I pulled out the high seat and hoisted myself up into it. “Hi,” I said, laying the newspaper I was carrying on the counter and dropping my bag to the floor.

“Don’t put it down there, it’ll get dirty!” Kimberly started to bend for my bag.

I put my hand on her arm to stop her. “Kimberly, the thing is eight hundred years old, five shades lighter than when it was new, and probably dirtying the floor. It’s fine.”

She crinkled her nose at me but didn’t argue. Instead, she glanced at the counter next to me. “Olivia, is that a
newspaper
?”
Her incredulous gaze colored with humor. “Nineteen-eighty called—they want their communication device back.”

I smiled as a server stopped by. The woman braced a pen to her green notepad. “Hi, what can I get for you?”

My mind went to the bills sitting on my bookshelf. If the stack were any taller, Godzilla would try climbing it. “Just a coffee, please.”

“Do you want something to eat?” Kimberly asked me.

“Nah. I’m not hungry.” To punctuate my lie, my stomach rumbled.

Kimberly looked at the server. “A turkey sandwich, no pickles, with a side of potato chips.”

“You got it,” the woman said as she scribbled down the order and moved away.

“When did you start eating meat?” I drummed my fingers on the counter to offset the sound of my stomach trying to tattle on me again.

She dropped the menu behind a napkin dispenser, where it flopped against the salt and pepper shakers. “I don’t. But you’re hungry, and you hate asking for handouts. It’ll come, you’ll bitch, and then I’ll get to treat you to lunch. Just call me mastermind.”

“Kimmy,” I whined, picking at the edge of the newspaper. I could feel the heat saturate my cheeks. Pale skin and easy embarrassment were a couple of life’s really cruel jokes. “You don’t need to buy me lunch!”

“Oh, posh!” She snatched her phone off the counter, checked the screen, found no one had called or texted in the thirty seconds since she’d probably checked it last, and dropped it back down to the counter. “I got lucky and graduated when there were still jobs. I figure my luck will run out soon, and I’ll get laid off. By then, you should be working, and you better expect to buy me lunch. See? Just planning ahead. So…”

She reached around me and grabbed the newspaper. “What are you doing with a newspaper? Old school. Why not look at Craigslist like everyone else?”

I blew out a breath. “My computer died. Actually, not true—it comes on. I can hear it buzzing, but the screen stays black. The tech guy I know said it’d be about four hundred dollars to fix, and that I should just buy a new one. Which is a great idea—I’d love to have a new computer. I’d also love to have four hundred bucks.”

Kimberly tsked. “I have a computer you could borrow—it’s old but it works. Robby bought me a new Mac.”

Robby was Kimberly’s rich, handsome boyfriend who was about five seconds away from slapping a ring on her finger. She was a great catch, and he was smart enough to realize it.

“Thanks! That’d be great. The library is fun and all, but my bedroom doesn’t have stinky people leaning against the back of my chair.”

Kimberly grimaced and ruffled the newspaper open like a father in a 1950s sitcom. The smile dripped off her face as her brow crinkled. “Admin assistant?” She glanced up at me.

I shrugged as my coffee arrived. I immediately reached for the creamer.

“But you got a degree in computer science…” Kimberly looked down at the listing again. “Computer science pays well. This… The salary isn’t listed, but it can’t be much.”

I dumped two packets of sugar into my coffee. My spoon clinked as it whirled around the cup. I took a sip. The scalding brew raked down my throat and set my esophagus on fire. I coughed and beat at my chest. It didn’t help. Eyes watering, I braced the counter until the heat dwindled.

“You should blow on it,” Kimberly said.

“Mastermind, indeed,” I wheezed. After the burn died away, I said, “I’ve been job hunting for six months, Kimberly. I started applying a month before I graduated, remember? A solid six months, too. No slacking. Out of applying for hundreds of positions, I’ve only gotten a handful of interviews. Then I always hear the same thing—the school I went to is impressive, my list of achievements are even more so, but I have no practical experience. Then I never hear from them again.”

A surge of hopelessness welled up inside of me. Soon I’d have to start applying to fast food chains just to get some money coming in. The problem with that was it wouldn’t be enough to keep a roof over my head. Not in this city, not even in the surrounding areas. Moving was inevitable, but I needed money for that, too.

Life was sure kicking me in the lady balls.

“I’m just looking for anything that pays at the moment,” I said before chancing another sip. “I even applied to be a dog walker—turns out, there are more dog walkers around here than dogs.”

“What about your mom?”

I scoffed. “On a safari with someone else’s husband. She’s never been much into the mothering game.”

I shook my head and traced the cup’s handle. “If I could just get
something—
literally anything that paid decently—I could keep afloat until the economy improves.”

The sandwich arrived. With a busy smile, the waitress lowered the plate in front of Kimberly. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, thank you. We’re good.” Kimberly pushed the plate in front of me as the waitress moved way. “Eat. This place does the best sandwiches.”

I gave Kimberly a grateful smile. “I don’t deserve you.”

She laughed and picked up her phone. “I know of something…” she said slowly, cutting into the fog of a truly delicious sandwich. She chewed her lip, hesitating. Leaning forward elegantly on the counter, she lowered her voice to a soft whisper. “You’re single, right?”

“Huh?” I asked, chewing.

“You’re single?”

I rolled my eyes. “Kimberly, I love you, but for the love of God, don’t try to set me up anymore. Either the guys take one look at me and make an excuse to get out of the date, or they just use me and dump me when they get bored. No thanks.”

She flushed. “Sorry. I really thought Jonathan would’ve been a good match.”

I waved it away, ignoring the little twinge in my gut from the handsome man who had taken my heart on the third date. He’d been charming and affectionate, and I was so blindly in love that when he broke it off, I laughed. I’d thought he was joking. He wasn’t. Apparently I didn’t fit in his world. He’d said, “You’d do better with someone more…your level.”

“My level?” I’d screeched. “My level of awesome, you mean? Because yeah, I would!” And then I’d just started yelling nonsense and crying. It wasn’t my finest moment.

“No big deal,” I said to Kimberly. “Par for the course in my love life.”

Kimberly gave me a beautiful pout before ducking her head. “Well…I do know of something—work related. It’s kind of hush-hush, but…” She smiled in a dreamy way, and then flushed. “Hunter Carlisle is looking for a new assistant!”

“Hunter Carlisle?”

Her jaw dropped. “What rock have you been hiding under? He’s the CEO of Primner and Locke! The youngest CEO they’ve ever had. And incredibly gorgeous.” She paused and leveled me with a stare. “Incredibly.”

The reference dawned as I sipped my coffee. From the little I’d heard, he was in his late twenties but had the business sense of someone far more experienced. He was shrewd and serious and in charge of a giant company with an equally large payroll. Getting my foot in there, in any capacity, would be a godsend.

A grin hijacked my confused expression. “I’m listening.”

“So…I can get you an interview. He looks for intelligent women with raw talent, so your lack of experience won’t be a problem as long as you tell him why you’re looking for admin work when you are obviously way overqualified.”

My heart sank, dwindling my smile. “Yes, but then he’ll tell me that I’ll get bored since I am overqualified. Either that, or he’ll suspect that I’ll try to transfer as soon as I can. I’ve been down this road before.”

She shook her head adamantly. “No. He won’t. He challenges his admins. He delegates work. He’s really smart. I bet you’d learn a lot from him.”

“Sounds too good to be true…”

“Well…” She hesitated. “There’s a catch. He…um. Well, he kind of has a…strange contract. He requires long hours. As in…like, really long.”

I shrugged and bit into my sandwich. Kimberly stared at me until I swallowed and finally said, “I don’t mind long hours. For experience and a paycheck, I’ll do just about anything.”

Her stare intensified. “Well, that’s just the thing. See, his life is the business, right? He’s got a fiancée, but that’s an arrangement to keep his family happy. He’s not into her, and she doesn’t bother with him. They don’t get it on.”

“I don’t know what getting it on has to do with anything, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t care about long hours. I have no life.”

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Well, he’s always working, and he’s not into her, so he kind of has it set up where his admin fulfills all roles, you know?”

“What do you mean, all roles?”

“He…sorta…has his admin do work stuff, right? But then, when the mood strikes, she’s like the girlfriend, too…”

I frowned as my brain slowly made sense of her words. I paused halfway to biting my sandwich when the full meaning hit me. Shivers worked up my body. “She does sexual stuff for him?” I whispered incredulously.

Kimberly flushed again, but this time, it was teamed with a light sheen of sweat. I realized something that made my heart beat faster and a strange tingle work through my core. She was aroused! The prospect of being an admin for a guy like Hunter Carlisle had her pupils dilating and her nostrils flaring. She was even breathing faster, as though she’d just finished running a mile. Or having sex.

I leaned in, suddenly feeling like two naughty schoolgirls in detention. “Why don’t you apply?”

A sly smile crept up her face. She glanced around before lowering her voice to match mine. “I did. Last time he was looking. I got to the second round, but he chose someone else.”

“Are you serious? You’re not that kinda girl!”

She giggled, hiding her face in her hands. “I know! But the pay—” She dropped her hands and leaned back, rolling her eyes in delight. “The
man.”
She inhaled and fanned her face. “I had just that one time with him in the second interview. Oh my God, the way he—”

“Wait.” I held my hand up to stop the words. Strange quivers filled my body. “Are you telling me he tries people out? Like…has sex with them?”