Read The Expert's Guide to Driving a Man Wild Online

Authors: Jessica Clare

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General

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BOOK: The Expert's Guide to Driving a Man Wild
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“Pfft. Are you kidding? That’s a piece of cake.”

Grant stared down at her. “How is that a piece of cake?”

She leaned forward and straightened his collar, then brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. For some reason, he got a soft look in his eyes, and she felt a shiver of desire race through her. “See? That right there was a total girlfriend move. I just act like you belong to me, and they’ll buy it.”

“I see.” He appeared to think this over for a minute. “I hate to deceive them.”

“I don’t. You want them to stay out of your hair, don’t you? To quit pushing dates on you that you don’t want? Because if you
do
want them, I’m more than happy to break up with you in the next thirty seconds and you can go to dinner a bachelor.”

“No,” he said thoughtfully. “Your plan could work. I don’t suppose there has to be much kissing. We can just hold hands.”

“Oh, there’ll be kissing,” Brenna said. “You were pretty rusty at it.”

“I was not.”

“You were. And they’re not going to find it believable if we’re not all kissy on each other.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

He looked at her as if she’d suddenly sprang another head. “And you’re okay with kissing me?”

She snorted. “It’s just kissing, Grant. It’s not a marriage license. Don’t you ever kiss people you don’t give a shit about?”

“Of course not.”

“Oh.” Well, it seemed like they were two different creatures, then. “Huh.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I’m your assistant. I’ll just think of it as assisting you.”

He considered her for a long moment, and then sighed. “You’ll have to change for dinner.”

She gave him a mock-lascivious look and ran her hands down her front, over her breasts. “Want me to wear something slutty?”

The look he gave her could have peeled paint.
“No.”

 • • • 

Grant paced in the living room of the main lodge, his thoughts in turmoil. When he was mulling through a problem, he liked to pace in front of the large stone fireplace. It was the feature he’d liked best about the cabin, and he often walked back and forth in front of it to work through a problem. Exercise always cleared his mind.

Normally it helped. Today? Not so much.

In one afternoon, it seemed that his calm, ordered life had been completely torn open and upheaved.

His family was here. That was a pain in the ass, but an expected one. He enjoyed seeing his sister, Elise. She was quiet, gentle, and wouldn’t probe on painful subjects. She seemed to know instinctively the kind of company he needed and was happy to just be quiet moral support for her brother. Elise wasn’t the problem. It was his parents. Or rather, his mother, since his father tended to give in to everything his mother wanted. Justine Markham was not used to hearing the word
no
.

She’d flown to his side the moment he’d returned home for Heather’s funeral. She’d been sympathetic and caring and handled all the details while Grant wallowed in his grief. It was only after the first anniversary of Heather’s death had passed that she’d started to press him a bit.

You should date.

You’re too young to be a widower, Grant. Get back out there.

I can introduce you to a few lovely girls, Grant. I just hate to see you so lonely and unhappy.

You’ll want children someday, Grant. I want grandchildren. It’s not going to happen if you keep mourning a woman who’s been dead for years.

His mother’s arguments had gone from sympathetic and understanding to annoyed and frustrated. So he’d been grieving for a while. So what? He’d loved Heather. Why shouldn’t he miss her? Why did his family insist on pushing him toward other women? It wasn’t as if he had a biological clock that was ticking. He wasn’t even thirty yet. Plenty of time to meet someone new and start over again.

People just needed to back the hell off.

Of course, that was what made Brenna’s absurd defense of him so bizarre and out of left field.

He’d been simmering with irritation when his family had started in on their favorite subject, though he hadn’t been surprised that his mother had invited a girl to dinner. He expected that sort of thing from Justine.

But he’d been shocked as hell when Brenna had grabbed him by the collar and kissed him, and then pronounced them as a couple. His parents’ stunned looks of astonishment probably echoed his own, but Brenna had taken her lie and ran with it. She’d been incredibly believable, too, reaching over and playing with his hair as they’d driven back to town, acting affectionate and silly toward him. He imagined that would be how she would act in a relationship normally.

He should have nipped her lie in the bud. He didn’t like deceiving his family. Elise had looked hurt that he’d never mentioned things to her, and his mother had looked briefly furious, then just confused.

And yet for some reason, he didn’t correct Brenna. He’d let the lie stand, let his parents think that they were an item. Why? He had no idea. Brenna’s defense of him had surprised him. And even though it was a ridiculous concept, she had a point. If they pretended to have a relationship, his parents would back off their continual persistent attempts to find him a new wife.

It was just surprising that this had come from Brenna, of all people. Annoying, careless, rebel without a cause Brenna. The perpetual thorn in his side. The worst employee ever. The most infuriating and useless woman he’d ever known.

The only one who had come to his defense this afternoon.

He should point out to his parents that it was just a joke. That he wasn’t dating Brenna at all and that she would be the last person he’d date, with her purple hair and loud ways and her complete lack of respect for him. He’d just bring it up casually before dinner and send Brenna on her way. She wouldn’t be hurt in the slightest. She had an iron hide when it came to him. They bickered at each other all day long at work.

Grant adjusted the collar of his shirt, frowning. He’d changed into a jacketed suit that wasn’t too formal, but his parents didn’t care for casual dining. He hoped Brenna realized that. With a grimace, he realized he probably should have given her more instructions on what to wear.

Hell, and now
he
was thinking like he was going to take part in this charade, too. He needed to make up his mind, and soon.

The front door to the lodge opened, and Grant turned around. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as Brenna entered, a soft smile on her mouth. She lifted her arms and twirled a little. “Will this do? I had to borrow it from Miranda.”

Brenna’s dark, wavy hair had been parted down the middle, the thick brown locks brushing against her shoulders. Her heavy fringe of purple bangs had been carefully arranged and curled, and they hung in a perfect line at her eyebrows. Her hair didn’t look careless and untamed today—it looked beautiful, thick, and healthy, and just a bit quirky. The dress she wore was a dark blue sheath with thin spaghetti straps and a bit of lace under the bust. It was pretty and demure and wasn’t something Brenna would normally wear, but now that she was in it, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her figure was usually hidden in the bizarre clothing choices she normally wore, but tonight she was an hourglass. When she turned, he could see two small bluebirds tattooed over each shoulder blade. His parents wouldn’t approve of that.

He didn’t care. She looked gorgeous. And that stunned him.

Her smile widened as he said nothing. Her hands went to her hips, the small clutch purse in her hand a bright spotted-leopard print. “That good, huh? I thought so, too.”

Grant rubbed his chin. “You look nice.”

“I know! My tits look amazing in this.” She cupped her breasts and jiggled them at him, grinning.

His astonished gaze went to that cleavage and he couldn’t help but stare for a moment. When had Brenna, the pain in his ass, gotten so built?
Stacked like a brick shithouse
, as Dane would say.

“Are your parents going to flip out?”

He was still staring at her breasts. “Huh? What?”

“Your parents? Are they going to be upset that we’re ‘dating’?” She released her boobs and made air quotes as she said “dating.” “And better yet, do you care?”

“You were right—it is a good idea, if an unorthodox and deceitful one.”

“Such flattery,” she said with a grin, not offended at his words at all. “So, if we’re going to do this, and I think you just said we are, I need you to do one more thing for me. Well, two more things.”

“What’s that?”

“One,” she said, and moved past him to his desk.

He couldn’t help but watch her, admiring the lines of her legs. She wore high heels, too, and she looked amazing in them. He’d never seen Brenna dolled up, and he felt as if he’d been suddenly missing out. She was gorgeous. He couldn’t stop staring at her.

Brenna picked up the picture on his desk and held it out to him. “You can’t have this sitting out on your desk while they’re here. They’ll know something’s up.”

It was like a punch in the gut. Heather’s smiling picture stared up at him. She’d been so alive, so vibrant in that photo. And now she was dead, and here he was, five years later, pretending he’d moved on and wasn’t holding on to feelings. He gazed at the photo for a long moment, not saying anything.

“I know it’s rude of me to point it out,” she told him softly. “But it’s only for a short time. I promise. We’ll put it back up as soon as they’re gone.”

We’ll put it back up.
As if they were in this together. Funny how he and Brenna had been at odds from day one, and the moment she’d felt he was threatened, she’d latched on to him and declared them a team. Funny . . . and appealing, really.

He nodded, opened a desk drawer, and very carefully laid Heather’s picture in there and then closed the drawer. His throat clenched for a moment, as if in protest, and then he was fine. Grant glanced back over at Brenna. “What was the other thing?”

She grinned, looking far more mischievous and like her old self. “You can’t look so freaked out when I kiss you.”

“I didn’t look freaked out.”

She gave him a wide-eyed, startled expression, pantomiming him receiving her kiss.

“Bullshit. That wasn’t me.”

“I’m afraid it’s true,” she said with a fake sigh. “You’re not a very good actor.”

Grant gave her a challenging look. “Do we need to practice?”

She gave him an impressed look and, hell, he was impressed at himself for saying it, but now that it was out there, he was curious to see how she’d react.

Brenna gestured for him to close the space between them. “Wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of prep before dinner.”

All right, then.
He moved closer to her, noticing that she smelled a bit like a light, flowery perfume. Did she always smell that sweet and he’d never noticed? Or was this more stuff borrowed from Miranda? Grant stood in front of her for a moment and gave her an expectant look. “Well?”

“Well, what? You’re the one who suggested practice.
You
need to kiss me.” She exaggerated her face into a pucker and tilted it up for him.

This sounded like a challenge. He’d kiss her, and he’d kiss her until her toes curled. Grant put an arm around her waist, tugging her close against him. Her arms wrapped around him to catch herself and while she steadied her feet, he leaned down and lightly brushed his thumb over her lips. “Be serious, Brenna.”

Her mouth relaxed and she got all soft-looking, her lips parting as she glanced up at him. Ah hell, she was great at this pretending shit. She really looked as if she wanted nothing more than for him to kiss her.

Good.
He’d oblige her, pretending or not. He leaned in and tilted his mouth over hers, ever so gently kissing her mouth. It’d been five years since he’d kissed a woman. He was probably rusty. She tasted sweet, her lips hinting of cherries, and he gently sucked at her upper lip, nipping at it with soft, gentle kisses as if she were the most delicate, most precious thing he’d ever held in his arms. Over and over, making love to her upper lip.

Kissing Brenna was incredible. He loved how she felt in his arms, all soft and pliant. He could get used to this, he decided. And when she made a soft noise in her throat that sounded like pleasure, he decided he needed more than just a little lip-brushing.

That was when he decided to deepen the kiss. His tongue slicked over her parted lips, darting into her mouth, waiting to see if she’d resist him. She felt amazing in his arms, warm and curvy and so fucking pretty that he wanted to clear off the rest of his desk and drop her up there and see how far they’d take this pretense.

Her tongue flicked against his in response, and he felt her arm twine around his neck.

Hell, yes. Grant’s kiss became harder, deeper. His tongue stroked into her mouth with possessive ownership. If this kiss was a battle between them, he was unquestionably the conqueror. Over and over he stroked into her mouth, kissing her with all the passion he could muster, and she was responding to him, making soft little noises in her throat, her hands digging into his hair.

And then he pulled away from her, panting. “How was that? Better?”

She stared up at him, her parted lips still wet from his kiss. “That,” she said, and her voice sounded breathy and sexy as hell, “was pretty damn good.”

“So do you think I need more practice?”

Her gaze went to his mouth as if she were considering it hard, and he felt a surge of masculine pride at her dazed expression. “Nah, I think you’re okay.”

“Great.” He released her and was gratified when she stumbled, just a bit, as if she’d lost her balance without him propping her up. “You all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said in that same breathless voice, then reached over and grabbed some Kleenex, offering it to him. “And you’re wearing my lip gloss.”

“Maybe I should leave it on. Part of the charade and all.”

She shook her head and moved forward to wipe it off him herself. “There’s a difference between charade and cross-dresser.”

“Very funny.” He held still while her fingers moved over his mouth, the small gesture oddly intimate between the two of them.

BOOK: The Expert's Guide to Driving a Man Wild
13.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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