Tailored for Trouble: A Romantic Comedy (Happy Pants) (18 page)

“Who?”

“My mother,” he replied.

“Why does she want to talk to me?” she asked.

He sighed, cupping his hand over the phone. “She wants to check up on me. Just tell her I’m fine. I hate it when she worries.”

Taylor tried not to smile.

“You find this amusing, Ms. Reed?”

She nodded, biting her cheeks. Of course she did. It was completely adorable that this tall, overbearing, prickly as hell CEO was such a mama’s boy.

He shoved the phone at her. “Tell her,” he hissed.

“What’s it worth to ya?”

He narrowed his eyes and projected evil thoughts her way.

“It was just a joke.” She snatched the phone from his hand. “Mama’s boy,” she whispered teasingly. “Hi, Mom.” She looked right at Bennett when she said it to gauge his reaction and because she felt utterly drunk from that kiss. Totally. Out. Of. Her. Mind.

Bennett’s nostrils flared with contempt
.

Yep, he didn’t like that one bit.
It was just so damned cute. He didn’t want to share his mommy with anyone.

“Oh, Taylor dear,” Mrs. Wade said cheerfully, “I just wanted to check in with you. Is my Bennett behaving himself?”

Not even a little.
“Yep. No problems,” she replied.

“Is he taking care of himself and getting some rest, too?” she asked.

Not even a little
. “Well, you know your son.”

Mrs. Wade made a little grumble. “Well, you keep an eye on him for me, would you, Taylor? I worry about what will happen to him when I’m gone. He has the common sense of a pickle when it comes to his health.”

Taylor felt another now-familiar pang of guilt. She’d almost just left Bennett to his own stubborn devices.

Mrs. Wade continued, “Just remember what I told you. The moment he tries to push you away, you put your foot down.”

Taylor glanced at Bennett, who glared with irritation. “Yes,
Mom,
I certainly will.”

“Good. Because you’re my last chance to see him settled, and I know you’re the one. The cookies never fail. I’ve researched it.”

“Uhh…okay.” She tried to maintain a cheerful expression on her face, but it wasn’t easy. Being reminded that this woman was dying zapped the playfulness right out of her.

“You call me if you need any help, okay, Taylor? I’m here for you, honey. Anything you need until my last breath. That boy is everything to me. Everything. And someday, when you have children of your own, you’ll understand. There is no possible way for me to repay what you’re doing for him—and for me.”

Oh crap.
Now she was going to cry
. No, you
are
crying. Fuck, stop that. Stop. That
. She turned away from Bennett, hiding her face, because the drippy little faucet had turned on and she couldn’t stop it.

“Taylor? You still there, dear?” his mother said.

She sniffled involuntarily. “Yeah. I’m here.”

“You’ll come to me if there’s a problem. Won’t you?”

This was the most awkward situation she’d ever been in. This woman was crazy and brash and pushy and endearing. It was impossible to say no to her.

“Ye-yes, Mrs. Wade.”

“I told you, call me Mom. Or Linda. No more of this Mrs. Wade stuff. You’re going to be the mother of my grandchildren.”

“Yes, Mom.” Taylor ended the call, and without turning around to face Bennett, she handed the phone to him over her shoulder.

“What’s with the ‘Mom’ thing, Ms. Reed?” Bennett said.

Taylor shrugged, trying to hold it together. “I don’t know,” she lied. “She just asked me to call her that.”

“Well don’t. It’s not only incredibly inappropriate to take advantage of my mother’s shaky mind, but it makes me feel like you’re trying to be my sister, and I find it distur…” his voice trailed off. “Are you crying?”

Taylor wiped the tears from underneath her eyes. “No.”

He pulled on her shoulder, forcing her to face him.

He blinked at her. “What did my mother say?” he growled.

“Nothing. She’s just really sweet. That’s all.”

“My mother? Sweet?” He didn’t believe Taylor for a minute.

But no way would Taylor tell him the truth, so she said the first thing that popped into her head. “She reminds me of my grandmother.” Taylor sniffled. The truth was that both her grandmothers had died before she was born.

“She was ornery, nagging, and controlling?” Bennett asked.

“Bennett.” She smacked his arm again. His amazingly firm arm. “Don’t talk about
our
mother like that.”

He laughed, and it was a laugh filled with crisp, pure, in-the-moment joy. It mesmerized her.

When his laughter finally died down, he rubbed his beautiful eyes, one of which was still surrounded by a deep purple bruise. It gave him a rugged, mistreated, and in need of serious lovin’ look. She could practically see his head filling with heavy thoughts. She really wished he’d tell her what was going on.

“I’m sorry about your meeting,” Taylor said.

“I couldn’t leave Tokyo not knowing if you were okay.” He looked out the window away from her.

He gave up a very important meeting because he thought something was wrong with me.
The true meaning of that hit hard, and she heard a nonexistent splash inside her head. It was the sound of her jumping into that ocean. An ocean named Bennett Wade.

The only question was, would she sink or swim?

After they arrived at the airport, she and Bennett silently made their way to the private hangar where his plane awaited. Bennett hadn’t said much since those last words in the limo, and neither had she. It seemed, for the moment, that they both had decided to retreat back to their corners. What Bennett truly thought about her and this thing between them, she had no clue. But she felt terrified. It was too late to turn back. After all, one cannot unjump a cliff. At best, you could slowly climb up again, a very difficult and arduous task.

Not that she wanted to climb back up, because every time she thought of that kiss and how he’d grinded against her; or how he’d given up a meeting with Mary Rutherford to come find her; she knew in her gut that Bennett was a passionate man who kept it hidden from the world. Then there were those other undeniably kind gestures: his mother, Candy, the restaurant owner. Really, at this stage she didn’t know much about him, but she knew how she felt. She wanted him.

But how the hell would something like this work?

It won’t
, she realized. Bennett didn’t date people he perceived as employees. Even if she wasn’t working
for
him, he was her client, and she couldn’t argue with that.

Then, it was very clear the man had commitment issues. His own mother had been so desperate to see him settle down that she’d opted for getting him to eat love-cookies—a completely ridiculous idea.

Really, Tay? Because I’m pretty damned sure the seven days aren’t up, and look at you.
To be fair, she wasn’t in love with the man; she merely had a thing for him.
Oh, look. Now you have a “thing,” too. Match made in…a very, very confusing situation?

She schlepped her way up the portable steel staircase behind Bennett. She was exhausted and frazzled both emotionally and physically.

Candy, who wore a fitted blue Wade Enterprises golf shirt, khaki slacks, and her red hair in a ponytail, greeted her with a warm smile. “Well, good morning, Taylor. How are you on this lovely day?”

“Hi, Candy,” Taylor replied miserably.

“Oh, my. Looks like someone had a rough night.” Candy reached over to give her a quick hug, but then Taylor found she didn’t want to let go. Candy just had a warm, loving, comforting vibe. Taylor could see why Bennett had helped her. She was definitely one of the good ones.

Candy patted her on the back and whispered in her ear. “You okay, darlin’?”

Taylor nodded.

“Just take a deep breath, sugar. Mr. Wade might change his mind and hire you back.”

Taylor pulled away, and from the corner of her eye she saw Bennett staring at her, frowning in a perplexed sort of way.

She looked at Candy, turning away so he wouldn’t see her hobbled expression. “He said he was going to…
fire
me?” Taylor whispered meekly.

Candy’s mouth pulled down in one corner. Then she made a little nod. “Oh no. Please don’t tell him I told you—I thought he’d already done it.”

Fire me. He is going to fire me.
“Fire me for what?” Taylor whispered.

“Ladies,” Bennett barked from the back of the plane. “May we leave now or you two going to chitchat all day?”

Taylor shot him a “thou shall be silent and take your seat now” look. Bennett’s stern expression shifted into something half-docile, half-irritated. Kind of like a kid who has just been told to eat his broccoli or he won’t get dessert.

Being the fiercely loyal and caring person that she was, Candy still felt obligated to make amends. “Yes. My apologies, Mr. Wade. Just telling Taylor here how happy I am to see you found her safe and sound.” Candy looked back at Taylor. “Ms. Reed, if you’ll take your seat?” She gestured to the front row and then leaned in to whisper while Bennett occupied himself with removing his jacket. “I’ve never seen the man so upset. His underpants were in a big ol’ bunch all mornin’, and when he got that alert on his phone that your tracker had gone off. Woo!” She fanned her face.

“He gets alerts when my cellphone signal drops?” Taylor asked.

“It’s his ‘thing,’ ” she replied, using Bennett’s exact word. “And that man’s head nearly exploded right off his big man-shoulders. Said he was going to find you and, I quote, fire. The. Hell out of you.” She made a little shrug. “Guess he decided to wait until after Paris.”

Taylor didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or what. “Are you sure he’s going to fire me?” Taylor asked.

“You broke two of his biggest rules: you made him miss a very important meeting and you turned off your tracking.”

Taylor sighed exasperatedly. “Thanks for the warning.”

Candy gave her a consoling look. “I’ll bring you a mimosa, sugar.”

Sure. Why the hell not.
“Make it a double!” she called out.

Taylor grabbed a folded blanket on the seat next to her, covered her tired body, and tilted back her seat. So Bennett had kissed her just to get her into the limo and on to Paris, where he planned to fire her after he got what he wanted. How insane was that? Because as far as he’d been concerned, she’d already quit and had been on her way home.

She looked over her shoulder, contemplating asking him “WTH, Bennett?” but was too exhausted to confront him yet again. And getting Candy into trouble didn’t seem like a great idea. The woman had been through a lot and had been kind enough to warn her.

Taylor looked at her trembling hands and for a moment envisioned wrapping them around Bennett’s neck.
Oh, stop, Tay. You know that’s not going to help anything
. The worst part was she could no longer afford to buy a ticket to…anywhere, frankly. She’d maxed out her last emergency credit card buying that one-way ticket home.

I can’t believe Bennett is going to can me after he kissed me and insisted I come to Paris.

No. This is so irrational. It has to be some sort of misunderstanding. Or maybe he was just angry when he said it.
But then she remembered the one key thing she’d forgotten. Telling a man like Bennett “no,” only revved him up and made him more determined to win.

Was that what his coming to carry her off caveman-style was all about? And then, just for fun, he decided to kiss her in a way that made her panties want to go on an extended vacay? And for good measure, he let her have a little taste of his hard, thick, long cock so she’d salivate and come running like a dog for a…well…bone?

No. I’m not going to play this sick game anymore.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and got up to go talk to him. As she made her way down the aisle, she watched Bennett talking on his phone, looking out the window. “You think I care?” he growled at whomever was on the other end. “No. Fuck no. The only thing that matters is this deal. Period. And anyone who gets in my way can go fuck themselves.”

Taylor’s eyes went wide.
What?

She was about to turn back when he looked at her and smiled—just as the plane jolted forward unexpectedly. Taylor flew past Bennett into the small galley at the back, landing with a belly flop on the floor and smacking her head right into a cupboard.

“Owww…” she groaned.

When she rolled over and opened her eyes, Bennett kneeled over her, cupping her cheek. “Taylor? Don’t move.”

“Motherfucker, sonofabitch that hurts.”

Bennett gave her a look. “Wow. You’ve been possessed by an angry sailor.”

She slid her hand to the throbbing spot on the top of her head. “I have a dirty mouth,” she groaned. “It’s part of my charm.”

“I don’t know. Your mouth tasted pretty clean to me.” He flashed a devilish smile.

She grumbled in response.

“Think you can get up?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He stood and held out his hand. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s dangerous to get out of your seat during takeoff? You could’ve been seriously injured.”

She took his warm hand and tried to ignore how good it felt when he pulled her up.

“Sorry. Wouldn’t want to do anything to get in the way of your deal.”

He gave her a look. “That was a discussion with one of my attorneys who’s being difficult.”

They stood face to face, and she stared up into his eyes. He hadn’t let go of her hand, and the other arm—large and well defined beneath his tailored white shirt—lifted as he reached out to cup her face again. His thumb traced along her bottom lip as he stared lustfully at it.

Jellybean wants.

Shut. Up.

“Bennett, can I ask you something?”

“I already told you. We had our little honesty session for the day. I’m not ready for more.”

“Fine. But I need to know if you really want me to come with you and stay or if this is just one gig.” Because the ride on the Bennett roller coaster was giving her whiplash.

He gave her a strange look.

“I mean,” she clarified, “changing the way you do things will take time. Are you in this for the long haul, totally committed? Or am I just a quick fix to get you across the goal line?”

He smiled at her. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

What sort of answer was that? But if that’s how he wanted to play, she could reciprocate with a non-answer, too. “You need to sleep and rest.”

“What are you, my mother?”

She laughed. “I’m afraid my balls are too small, so that would be a no.”

He chuckled. “Right you are. So am I to take your lack of an answer as a yes for dinner?”

Back to square one, are we?

“Long haul or goal line?” she asked.

“You’re difficult.”

“Mmmm…Yes.”

“Great,” he said. “I’ll have Robin change the reservation to four people.”

“Wait. That wasn’t my reply; I was agreeing with you about me being difficult. And what do you mean four?”

“The dinner is with Mary Rutherford and her son, Chip.”

“Oh.” Of course it was. She’d helped him arrange it. Indirectly, anyway.

She felt a tiny twitch of disappointment. A dinner alone in Paris with him had sounded romantic and far better than being fired, but she just couldn’t figure out what was going on with this man. Was he using her? Interested? Was this business or pleasure?

“So you need a wingman, huh?” She obviously knew both Chip—dirty, dirty man whore—and his mother—a dictator in a pink suit—so it would make sense he’d want her to come along as buffer.

He gently pinched her chin, tilting her head up toward him. She wondered if he might kiss her again. “Ms. Reed, I’m Bennett Wade. I don’t need a wingman. I’m asking you to be my date.”

Her insides got all jittery and cancan-y. She liked the sound of being his date. She liked it too much. “And then what? I mean, what happens after?”

“What would you like to have happen?” he asked suggestively.

She would love it if he kissed her again. She would love it even more if he held her down naked and thrust his thick hard cock—
Tay!

She shrugged coolly, trying to mask her dirty thoughts. “Long term or goal line?” she repeated her question.

“Are you asking for a relationship? Because I don’t do those—not anymore.”

“What? No!”
Ohmygod. He thinks I was begging him to be my boyfriend?
And why “not anymore?” Was it because of that Kate woman?

“I was referring,” she said, “to your commitment to the program—but what’s your issue with relationships?”

“I thought you just said you weren’t talking about that.”

“You brought it up. Now I want to know.”

He shook his head. “Dinner. Yes or no.”

She wanted to say no, just to see what he’d do, how far he’d go to make her say yes, but that would be childish.

Don’t neglect your inner child.

Okay. Compromise.

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

Agitation flickered in his eyes. “I’m going to get some sleep. When I wake, you can give me your answer, and we can go through your training. I have some questions about the material and want to make sure I handle Mary correctly.”

Taylor scratched her head. His comment made her feel uncomfortable, like she was helping him deceive Mary.

“She’s not an animal, Bennett. You can’t ‘handle’ her.”

“No. She’s not. She’s a woman—complex, stubborn, and intelligent. Just like you. Which is why you are the perfect person to help convince her to sell fifty-one percent of her company to me.”

Anything to win. Anything.

Taylor sighed. She needed to get off this mental roller coaster before she lost her damned mind. One minute, she swam in Bennett’s ocean, wanting him. The next she was angry because she felt like he was using her for this deal. One second, he flirted with her, the next, pushed her away or acted like it was all business. Being around Bennett felt like being in a crazy bipolar-flea rodeo.

Tay, you’re letting him wag you. Stand firm.
She understood there was more going on with him than he wanted to share, but she needed to put her foot down.

She stared up into his eyes. “I’ll go to dinner with you. But after that, Bennett, you’ll either have to tell me what’s going on—really going on—or I can’t stay.”

He placed his hand on his hip, jaw pulsing, and looked toward the tiny window.

Now she felt bad
. Dammit! Fucking flea rodeo!
“I’m not trying to be mean or ungrateful, but within the space of a few hours, I’ve been snubbed, rescued, yelled at, kissed, flirted with, asked to work on your deal, tickled, pushed away, and then pulled closer. Not to mention, you still haven’t explained why you participated in that a-hole-category bet with your friends that has absolutely reduced my self-confidence down to the size of a shriveled raisin, which is smaller than an actual raisin. And all you can say is ‘trust me.’ And that you have panic attacks when you can’t reach people. Are you beginning to see how you might be asking a little too much?”

Bennett’s strong jaw clenched hard, and his dark brown brows furrowed with deep emotion.

“Look at me, dammit,” she said.

He did, and then she wished he hadn’t. The anger in his eyes was palpable.

“I’m doing the best a man like me can be expected to do. Given the circumstances,” he added.

What circumstances?

“But you’re right,” he nodded. “This isn’t fair to you. I’ll make sure you get home after we land in Paris. Just forget the dinner.”