by Nina Lindsey
If his mother hadn’t been preparing to ambush him with a barrage of eligible women, he might have felt guilty about lying to her. But with Rory as his buffer, he’d not only keep his mother happy, he might even enjoy himself.
He breathed in her smell, something like coconut and bananas. Last night, her scent had been masked by the aromas of cooking. He hadn’t expected the sun-averse Rory to smell warm and tropical.
Then paper crinkled, and the odor of processed beans assaulted his nose. He shot her a narrow look as she slathered the soggy burrito with packaged sour cream and crammed a bite into her mouth.
Grant shifted, tightening his grip on the wheel. The “food” was disgusting, but just a glimpse of Rory eating caused heat to collect in his lower body. It was so damned sexy the way she licked her tapered fingers, made little chewing noises, and darted her tongue out to catch a smear of sauce on her lip. She was making him hungry in more ways than one.
“Want some?” She waved the burrito under his nose.
“No, thanks.”
“You know, food snobbery is kind of elitist.” She pursed her lips around the straw of her drink.
“I’m not a food snob. I just want people to eat good food. Trust me, I can make a burrito that will turn you off of all other burritos. Especially fast-food ones.”
“Oh, sounds like another challenge.” She popped the last of the burrito into her mouth and unwrapped the enchilada. “Though I don’t really like the idea of being turned off.”
He chuckled. “In this case, I’d recommend it.”
“Okay, so prove it the next time we’re in the kitchen.” She took a bite of the enchilada and spoke around the mouthful. “But I’m actually quite nondiscriminatory when it comes to Mexican food. Or any food, really.”
“After you eat more of my food, you’ll develop some actual taste.” He slanted her a glance. A smear of sour cream decorated her cheek. “That’s the second challenge for me. When do you get one?”
“Isn’t pretending to be your girlfriend a challenge?”
“It’s an agreement. Giving up your cell phone would be a challenge.”
She laughed and sucked up more cherry coke. “I’m not giving up my cell phone.”
“What do you think would happen if you did?”
“Nothing would happen.” She crumpled up the enchilada wrapper and stuffed it into the bag. “I just need my phone.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a woman who lives in the twenty-first century. And if you have such issues with my phone, you should’ve asked Madeline Fox to go to the wedding with you.”
“Third time you’ve mentioned Madeline.”
“So?” Irritation edged her voice.
He shrugged. “You still sound jealous.”
“Well, I’m not. I know what you’re doing. You asked me because your parents will be somewhat mollified by the fact that you brought a computer geek home. Even though I’m not in the right social sphere, I work in the right industry and know about things like algorithms and mainframe databases. You’ve probably never brought home a girl like me before, but your parents will approve, right?”
Grant didn’t know what to say. Of course she could talk shop with his father and most of the other wedding guests, but he hadn’t asked her because she was a computer geek.
He’d asked her because—
“Yeah.” He flexed his hands on the wheel. “They’ll approve.”
“Exactly. So stop hassling me about being a tech girl.” With a tsk of exasperation, she drained her cherry coke and stuck the cup in the cup-holder. “But for the record, you’d better tell me what you’ve had going on with Madeline.”
“What makes you think I had something going on with her?”
“Oh, please. Everyone knows she has the hots for you. Well, most of the women in Bliss Cove have the hots for you, but Madeline makes no secret of it. I saw the way she was looking at you. Like she wanted to eat you up.”
Grant’s jaw tightened. That was the way he’d felt about Rory last night. He could have devoured her.
“Just because she was looking at me doesn’t mean we’ve ever had a thing.”
“Have you?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“No.” He shot her a glare, suddenly annoyed by her prying. “I’ve never dated Madeline Fox or hooked up with her. I’ve never wanted to.”
Rory slipped on her sunglasses and looked out the side window. Though she spoke under her breath, he distinctly heard her murmur, “Good.”
Rory didn’t usually like long car rides—the heat, the sun, the smell of asphalt—but the three-hour drive with Grant ended up being quite enjoyable.
Once he stopped griping about her phone and she stopped wondering about his sex life, they had lengthy conversations about movies (he was a fan of dramas and thrillers, she preferred raunchy comedies), Greek mythology (ingrained in her since childhood), Game of Thrones (they had to agree to disagree), and whether or not the Bliss Cove Library was haunted (Rory = not a chance, Grant = absolutely).
He indulged her reggae playlist, asked about her sisters, and refrained from comment when she bought a candy bar and a bag of Sour Patch Kids during a gas stop. By the time he pulled into the parking lot of San Francisco’s Ritz-Carlton, she believed this whole weekend would be easier than she’d thought.
Only when she was standing in the bathroom of the fancy hotel, pulling her hair into a sedate knot at her nape, was she beset by an attack of nerves. She was pretending to be the girlfriend of the son of the man who’d founded Intellix…and the rest of his family and guests at his brother’s wedding.
While Rory prided herself on her many talents—a natural facility for math, data processing, a good memory, the ability to see through bullshit—acting had never been one of them. She’d never even been a tree in an elementary school play.
“You okay in there?” Grant called.
“I’ll be out in a sec.” Skimming her hands over her hips, she studied herself in the mirror. Callie’s pale blue sheath was both elegant and understated, and the matching cashmere cardigan would hide the circuit board tattoo decorating her upper arm.
She swiped on her lipstick and walked out of the bathroom. The door adjoining their rooms was open, and Grant stood at the mirror in his room, knotting his tie. He turned, scanning her from head to toe so thoroughly that her self-consciousness kicked into gear.
“You look great,” he said.
“So do you.”
Her remark was an understatement. She’d never seen him in a suit before. He looked almost like a stranger—his crisp white shirt fit him to perfection, and his silk tie nestled right in the hollow of his strong throat.
“Guess we both clean up pretty good.” He pulled on his suit jacket and buttoned it. “Ready to face the gauntlet?”
“Do we get to raid the minibar when we get back?”
“Definitely.”
“Then I’m ready.” She picked up her sweater, inhaling as she passed him so she could catch the scent of his aftershave.
As they walked down to the hotel’s dining room, he settled his hand on her lower back. Rory’s heart jumped. His broad palm burned heat clear up her spine.
“Okay if I touch you in public?” He gave her a rueful glance. “Girlfriend and all.”
“Uh…sure.” Her voice came out breathless. She was still trying not to think about their intense kiss last night—or how much of a bummer it was that they’d started something they couldn’t finish—and she hadn’t considered how they’d act around other people. But as a couple, they had to touch each other.
Rory was definitely a fan of consensual touching, but given her reaction to Grant’s touch, she hoped she wouldn’t make a fool of herself by getting all breathless in public.
Conversation rose throughout the massive, high-windowed dining room. Linen-draped tables glittered with crystal glasses and silverware, and elaborate bouquets bloomed from vases. Grant curled his finge
rs gently through hers.
“Rory, my mother Joanna and my father Edward.” He extended his other hand to the handsome, well-dressed couple getting to their feet.
“We are so delighted to meet you, my dear.” Joanna Taylor was a lovely woman with perfectly coiffed blond hair and fine, elegant features. She squeezed Rory’s hand between hers. “It’s been forever since Grant has come home, much less brought anyone with him.”
“I’m glad it was me, then.” She smiled and turned to Edward Taylor to shake his hand. Tall and broad-shouldered, he was an older version of Grant, his face settled into strong, distinguished lines enhanced by a neat, graying beard. “Nice meeting you, even if you could scale up the Intellix database architecture by making the grid computing more transparent to the user.”
Silence fell. Her face heated. She opened her mouth to apologize when Edward laughed. The tension broke, and the other guests joined in the laughter.
“Did I mention that Rory is a software engineer?” Grant’s eyes twinkled at her.
“Then I’d like to find out what she’s doing with you.” Edward pulled out the chair beside him and motioned for her to sit. “Where do you work, Rory?”
“I’m going to start at Digicore after Thanksgiving.” She sat down and glanced warily at Grant, but he looked both comfortable and relaxed as he took a seat next to his mother.
“Hmm.” Edward nodded and picked up his drink. “Digicore isn’t the best or the biggest, but they’re doing some interesting work.”
“That’s why I accepted the job.”
Edward introduced her to the other guests at the table. Though Rory might have found it intimidating to talk to the founder of Intellix, it was entirely different talking to Grant’s father. He was curious about her work, her ideas, and how she would change the Intellix database system to make it run more efficiently.
“No more shop talk, you two.” Joanna leaned over from the other side of the table, her eyes bright. “Tell us how you met Grant.”
“At the tavern.” Rory took a sip of wine and shrugged. “It’s not very interesting, I’m sorry to say. My mother owns a bakery in Bliss Cove, and I moved back a couple of years ago after my father passed away. I knew the Mousehole had been sold, but I hadn’t met Grant until I stopped by again.”
She wouldn’t tell them about the grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. She hadn’t told anyone how he’d made her feel better with that one gesture. Did he even remember it?
“When did he ask you out?” Another woman—Grant’s aunt—asked eagerly.
Rory glanced at Grant. “About…how many months ago?”
“Three or four, I think.”
“I will never forgive you for not bringing her to meet us sooner.” Joanna gave her son a chiding look. “Why did it take you so long to ask her out? You’re lucky she was still available.”
“I was lucky, indeed.” He met Rory’s gaze, and a sizzle lit the air between them.
Her belly fluttered. What was wrong with her? It was as if that kiss from last night had settled in her bones, silver and bright like the moon, and was radiating all sorts of never-before-felt sensations toward him.
So strange. She’d always been a woman who could separate the physical from the emotional. She preferred it that way. Her tech jobs had allowed so little room to breathe, and while she loved the mind-bending work, the challenges and problem-solving, she’d always needed to find supplementary ways to exert her body.
She’d run track in high school and college, played volleyball, spent a lot of time hiking and jogging. She’d been discriminatory about her sexual partners, but the act itself had been more of a release than a loving, intimate connection.
Too many encounters with sexist pigs who wanted to demean or dismiss her had left her wary of men in the tech industry. And after the crash-and-burn end of her last career venture, she hadn’t sought any kind of release during her relatively stress-free stay in Bliss Cove.
Which meant that it really had been a long time. At least a year. Maybe that was why she was getting all hot and bothered about Grant. That, and the fact that the man knew how to kiss. Extremely well. It made her think he also very likely extended that expertise to other sexy acts.
“…for the database design,” Edward was saying.
Rory refocused on the conversation. She was here to play a role, not to start imagining what Grant would be like in bed.
While they hadn’t discussed what would happen if someone found out that she wasn’t really his girlfriend, she wanted the weekend to be a success. Whatever reasons Grant had for his family issues, she wouldn’t be the one to make them worse.
“So sorry we’re late!” A stunning redhead in what had to be a designer suit sailed up to the table trailed by a handsome young man who had a softer, kinder version of Grant’s hard features. “I can’t believe the last-minute issues that are coming up.”
“Sweetie, that’s why you have a wedding planner.” Joanna rose to exchange air kisses with the woman. “You should be relaxing on the eve of your wedding. Come and meet Grant’s girlfriend.”
“Grant has a girlfriend?” Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline.
“Not only that, he brought her along.” Joanna waved her hand as if she were a showcase model displaying Rory, the brand-new car. “This is Rory Prescott. Rory, this is our lovely bride Alice, and Grant’s younger brother Nathan.”
Rory greeted them both, and Grant rose to embrace his brother. Nathan shot Rory a curious smile.
“Funny that you didn’t mention her,” he remarked, slapping Grant on the back.
“He likes to keep me to himself.” Rory winced at the suggestive tone to her voice, but she had little doubt that Nathan suspected she was a decoy. “Thanks for accommodating a plus one. I’m looking forward to the ceremony.”
“Not as much as we are.” Alice smiled at her fiancé, who responded with a look of such besotted devotion that even Rory’s steel-clad heart softened a little.
She enjoyed the rest of the dinner more than she’d expected to. Talking with Edward, and Intellix VP Nathan, was both enlightening and interesting, and Joanna was a master hostess who kept the conversation pinging back and forth about everything from the best hotels in Monte Carlo to the ERA of the San Francisco Giants.
Though Rory had to sit through Alice’s tales of wedding-planning woe (The photographer had initially double-booked! A storm impacted the Alaskan fishing industry and they weren’t able to guarantee enough lobster for the guests, so they were serving King crab legs instead! One of the bridesmaids gained so much weight that they had to let out her dress!), once Alice had garnered enough sympathy, she started telling Rory about her job at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art—which was far more interesting than lobster and bridesmaids.
“Grant, you still slinging burgers?” Edward’s voice boomed across the table, silencing all other conversations.
Joanna’s expression grew pinched, as if she were watching storm clouds gather on the horizon.
“Still am, Dad.” Grant faced his father, his mouth tightening. “You need me to take a look at the Intellix cafeteria menu? See if we can elevate the packaged sandwiches to something edible?”
Oh, slam.
“No, thanks.” Edward gave a thin smile. “My team is happy with what we offer. They’re busy with real work, after all.”
“Edward.” Joanna’s voice held an unmistakable warning.
“Grant did an amazing job revamping the Mousehole Tavern,” Rory remarked casually. “It was written up in Food & Wine magazine as one of the best rustic restaurants on the West Coast.”
“It sounds delightful,” Joanna said.
“The Mousehole Tavern.” Edward said the name as if it tasted unpleasant in his mouth. He took a swallow of scotch and set his napkin down. “It might interest you to know, Rory, that I raised both of my boys the same.”
“We raised them, Edward,” Joanna put in tartly. “And no one wants to hear your complaining right n
ow.”
“I’m just stating the facts. It would be an interesting scientific study. Maybe one involving mice.” He guffawed and took another drink. “Two mice…or boys…raised the same way. Had all the same privileges. Attended excellent private schools. Never wanted for a thing. Vacations in Europe. All the best technology, of course. One of the boys goes on to graduate from Stanford with a degree in computer science, makes no noise about starting at the bottom of his father’s company, and works his way up to a well-deserved VP position. The other boy works as a kitchen dishwasher and busses tables. As a career goal, he wants to learn how to cook a steak and scramble eggs.”
So what’s wrong with that? Rory barely managed to bite back the remark.
If Edward Taylor belittled his son’s career choice, no wonder Grant had distanced himself from his family. Rory knew all too well what it felt like to be treated as less—though thankfully never by her family. That had to hurt like hell.
“Yet you’re all about fine dining, aren’t you, Dad?” An undercurrent of bitterness threaded Grant’s question. “You love to eat, so it’s not as if you have anything against chefs as a rule. But the fact that your son wanted to work in a kitchen has always had you in a rage.”
“Grant, your father’s point is that you had a great deal of privilege that was intended to set you on the right path,” Joanna said quietly.
“Mom, cooking obviously is the right path for Grant,” Nathan put in. “Neither one of us was born with source coding in our DNA.”
“I’m pretty sure I was.” Rory polished off the last bite of salmon, eyeing Edward narrowly. “And don’t you think a developer who’s not totally committed to his or her work and who doesn’t love what they do is far worse than no developer at all?”
His mouth compressed. “You don’t have to be born with a talent to learn how to do something well.”
“But life is about doing what you love, isn’t it?” piped up Aunt Lucy. “Shall we have dessert?”
Conversation rose again, and Rory leaned closer to Edward. “I know it’s none of my business, but he really is an excellent chef.”