Outmatched: A Novel

by Kristen Callihan

  My smile died, as reality sank like a stone in my gut. We didn’t have a future, but we were partners, and I’d done her wrong in more ways than one. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you like I did. I regret that most of all.”

  A frown wrinkled between her brows. “Let me see if I have this straight. You regret … getting physical with me?”

  This felt like a trap. My instincts were screaming that it was most definitely a trap. “Yes?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Is that an answer or a question?”

  Yep, definitely a trap. Resting my forearms on my thighs, I tried to think of a way to explain myself without digging a deeper hole. “I’m a big guy with a hell of a lot of strength. I didn’t ask for permission, didn’t handle you with care. I just … took.”

  She hummed under her breath. I had no idea what that meant, so I forged on, acutely aware that I was probably stepping in it. “I shouldn’t have manhandled you.”

  Parker turned away and went back to her post by the window. Afternoon light slanted in and colored her skin bronze. I couldn’t tell if she was pissed, grateful, disappointed, or something else. She’d shut down completely.

  I’d have admired her game face if it wasn’t currently being used against me. I stood and rubbed my neck. “It was especially wrong considering we’re just …” I couldn’t say it, though. My mouth refused to do it.

  Parker glanced back at me, her brows a fierce line. “Just what?”

  The memory of her ashen face when she told her parents that I was her boyfriend flashed in my mind, and the words punched out of me. “Business. We’re just business partners, Parker.”

  She made a sound, not quite a snort but close, then tilted her head back to blink up at the ceiling. For a horrible second, I thought she might cry. But then she laughed with a bitterness that surprised me. “You want to hear something funny?”

  She sounded so dull and remote, I wasn’t sure if she was asking. I didn’t get to answer before she looked at me again, those deep brown eyes spearing my chest. “You kissing me, me kissing you, the way you touched me on the couch, that was my favorite part of the whole horrible day.”

  The floor tipped my feet as heat rushed up my back. “Parker …”

  “I’m attracted to you,” she went on, like I hadn’t said a word, her tone growing stronger. “Despite everything, I find myself wanting you. I dread sleeping on that bed with you because I find it exceedingly hard to keep my hands to myself.”

  Holy shit. My knees went weak, my dick hard as a pike.

  “Which really just … sucks,” she said, growing a little wild and shrill. “Because you keep throwing the truth in my face. That we’re nothing but a deal, a monetary means to an end for both of us. And I feel …” She looked around wildly as though searching for the word, and then it exploded out of her. “Stupid. Fucking stupid!”

  God, she was brave. Magnificent. My brave, beautiful girl.

  I had to hold her. I needed it. I made a move to go to her, but she thrust up a hand. “No. You don’t get to touch me now.” It was a snarl of rage. “Not when you’ve made it clear how you see me. Not after you’ve been a total dickhead.”

  She reveled in cursing, like she gained power from it. I loved that. Watching her rail into me should have left me feeling chastised, but it inflamed me. I was the lucky bastard who was getting to see her bloom.

  Slowly, I advanced, holding my hands up in surrender. Because I did. I fucking surrendered. I was hers to do with what she willed.

  “I’m not gonna touch you,” I promised when she went stiff. “But let’s clear a few things up. I said that stupid shit about us being nothing more than partners because I thought it’s what I was supposed to say. I was trying to be professional and keep myself under control.”

  I stopped in front of her, letting her see all the emotions I’d tried so damn hard to hide. “But there’s nothing controlled about the way I feel about you, Parker. I want you so badly, it hurts.” My hands clenched into fists so I wouldn’t reach for her. “I think about your mouth more than I should. Everything about you gets to me. You dread that bed? Well, so do I. Because being next to you and not being able to touch you is absolute torture.”

  Parker swallowed hard and her lips parted. But a small frown worked between her brows. “Is that why you’ve been shutting down on me? Because it doesn’t add up; you were downright angry with me at the party.”

  For a second, I didn’t want to answer. I didn’t want to expose that insecurity. But it was still there like a thorn in my side. And this was never going to work if I wasn’t honest with her.

  “All right, fine. I was pissed.” I held her gaze. “I knew what you thought of me going into this. I was okay with that because it was a job then. But I figured your opinion of me would change when we got to know each other. Mine did. But yours clearly hasn’t.”

  Parker gaped at me as though I’d been speaking in tongues. But then a spark of anger lit her gaze. “How on earth would you come to that conclusion? Because I must say, Rhys, you’re pissing me off now.”

  Seriously? I snorted. “Come off it. You looked like you were going to puke all over your penny loafers when your parents showed up. Before that, even. Hell, you practically ran from your parents’ friend too. When it really counts or it’s in front of someone you actually care about, you’re ashamed to be seen with me.”

  She didn’t back down. I’d give her that. Her hands went to her hips as she squared off. “I wasn’t ashamed of you! I couldn’t be attracted to someone I didn’t respect and like as a person. I was ashamed of lying to my parents, you complete and utter blockhead!”

  Nonplussed, I took a step back like she’d landed an uppercut to my jaw. My ears were ringing. “You … ah … what?”

  My brilliant reply only made her nostrils flare.

  “Got nothing to say now, huh?” She shook her head with another snort before going on the attack. “My family means everything to me. Did you honestly believe it was easy for me to lie to their faces?”

  “Even with that short meeting, I could tell they want the best for you. Why don’t you tell them the truth? You gotta know they’ll forgive you.” I wanted to say more, but my head was reeling. The fact that I’d gotten it so wrong pulled the rug out from under me.

  “Because …” She lifted her shoulders in a helpless gesture. “Then I’d have to admit that I’d paid a man to be my boyfriend. And it’s too mortifying to contemplate. Sorry if that offends your delicate sensibilities.”

  Delicate?

  My lips twitched as tenderness washed through me. “Parker.” I reached for her.

  “No …” she said, shaking her head.

  “Yes.” Gently I tugged her forward and pressed her palms to where my heart beat hard and fast. “Parker, I’m sorry. I was a dickhead. A blockhead.”

  Her gaze slid sideways and a smile ghosted across her lips. She wasn’t pulling away. “You forgot asshole,” she said.

  “Did you call me that too?” I murmured, warmth spreading outward, need for her building. “I must have missed that one.”

  “In my head, I did.”

  I grinned, and after a brief aggrieved sniff, she did too. I leaned down and brushed a kiss across her temple. “I’m sorry I was an asshole, Tinker Bell. My only excuse is that I’m so into you, I’ve lost all my good sense.”

  A sigh gusted out of her, and she leaned her forehead against my chest. “Well, as excuses go, I suppose I can accept that.”

  I rubbed the back of her neck with my thumb, easing the tension there. “You sure? Because I’m willing to do some physical labor as recompense. Offer up a back rub, maybe.”

  She huffed out a laugh and melted into me. “I’m not going to object to that.”

  We grew quiet and held onto each other. I had no idea it would feel so good to simply hold a woman. Then Parker stirred.

  “I didn’t expect this,” she said.

  “Neither did I. You were supposed to be a snobby, rich woman of
loose morals.” I laughed when Parker poked my side, and then I snuggled her closer. “Not a gorgeous, quirky environmentalist with excellent taste in motorcycles.”

  “My taste is excellent in everything,” she said. “And you were supposed to be a boorish, money-grabbing jerk.”

  Aside from the money thing, she wasn’t far off. But I wasn’t stupid enough to mention that. I nuzzled her hair instead, drawing in her scent. “Just because we didn’t plan on this doesn’t make it any less real, though, does it?”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Her arms wrapped around my waist and it felt like heaven.

  “I’m not taking any money from you,” I said into her silky hair.

  “Then it’s a good thing I never got around to paying you.”

  Laughing softly, I leaned back enough to see her face. She smiled up at me, a little hesitant but no longer angry. My fingertips traced the line of her jaw. “I won’t take the money, but I’m going to help you. We’re still partners. Just ones who are into each other.”

  Warmth bloomed over her face. “All right.”

  My hand slid to her cheek. “You mean something to me, Parker.” Because she had to understand that, and I didn’t know how to say it any better. “I want to know you.”

  Her lids lowered as she leaned into my touch. “Crazy thing is? Right now, you already know me better than almost anyone.”

  Hell. My heart gave a meaty thump and my throat closed.

  “You do too,” I rasped, sliding a hand to her nape.

  Before, when I’d kissed her, I’d done it in a lust-induced haze or under the guise of practice. Now there was just us. No bullshit. Just need.

  My lips caressed Parker’s, drinking in her sigh. I explored her with slow strokes, gentle glides. When her lips parted, I slid my tongue in to taste her. The feel of her mouth sent a lick of hot pleasure through me.

  Bending down further, I gathered her up and lifted her against me. Parker was tiny, and she was perfect. Our kiss turned deeper, stronger. I felt it everywhere, in the backs of my knees, in my heart that was beating faster. Her kisses made me weak, made me want in a way that was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.

  I staggered back, my ass hitting the bench, Parker sprawled over me. She laughed into my mouth. The sound lit me up. I grinned in return and nipped her lip.

  “You’re wonderful,” I said, hands sliding into her hair.

  She laughed at that, a husky sound. She was exploring too, running her palms over my shoulders, down my arms. “You’re magnificent. I could touch you for hours.”

  “I like that plan.” My lips trailed down her neck. “Fuck, I love that plan.”

  I’d never done this—laughed and teased while making out with a woman. It hit me like a sucker punch that I’d never actually made out with a woman at all. We’d always gone straight to the main event. With Parker, I could kiss her all day, suck on the fragrant curve of her neck, and it would still be pure bliss.

  Heat washed over me, and I found her mouth again. Our kiss was more this time. A little frantic. A little wild. The world melted away. There was only her. And more. And now. And oh, fuck yes, right there.

  It was so good, so hot, that when the whiny sound of a man’s voice in the room finally registered, I nearly leapt out of my skin. I wrenched Parker to my side, as though I could shield her, and looked around wildly.

  But we were alone.

  “Mr. Morgan?” the voice said again. Andrew. “Ms. Brown?”

  “There’s a house phone,” Parker said, pointing to the spot by the minibar set into an alcove. “He’s using an intercom.”

  This fucking place.

  My tension eased a touch, but I huffed out an irritated breath. “Little fucker better not be spying,” I muttered before standing and, carrying a squeaking Parker with me, stalked over to the phone to hit the talk button. “Yeah?”

  “Uh …” Andrew paused, unsettled, I guess, by my tone. Tough shit. I’d unsettle him a lot more if I found out anyone could overhear us through this system. “Drinks are being served in the living room now.”

  A summons, then.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Bye, Andrew.”

  “Oh—ah … Goodbye, Mr. Morgan.”

  As soon as it was silent, Parker snickered, leaning her head into the hollow of my shoulder. I liked her there. “He scared me to death,” she said.

  A reluctant smile pulled on my lips. “Yeah, me too. I thought he was in the room.”

  We both chuckled, a release of tension. But then Parker pulled back. “I guess we better get out there before he shows up in person.”

  “He shows up in person and I’m tossing him out the window.” I groaned and buried my face in her neck, idly kissing along the smooth curve—because I could. Because she smelled so damn good and felt even better. “Fuck it. Let’s stay here. They can figure out why.”

  She shivered when I hit a particularly sensitive spot, and I was gratified to find her arching into me. But her hand slid to my shoulder and stayed my progress. “You know Fairchild won’t give up that easily.”

  With a sigh, I set her down and ran a hand over my hair. “Yeah. Fuck, I hate that guy.”

  Parker fixed her pink cashmere sweater. “I do too. But it is what it is.”

  “I thought I’d charm him a little, not give him a permanent boxing boner for me.”

  A choked laugh escaped Parker, and she grinned. “You should be more careful with that charm, Morgan. It’s very potent.”

  Chuckling, I bent my head and kissed her. “I’ll save it all for you from now on.” When she hummed in satisfaction, I eased back and met her gaze. “I don’t know how, but one day, when you’re safe from retaliation, I’m going to make sure he gets what’s coming to him.” Specifically, an ass-kicking.

  She smiled wide with a spark of evil glee that I loved. “Just make sure I’m there to witness it.”

  “Count on it, sweetheart.” I kissed the tip of her nose, then held out my hand to her. She took it and something inside me locked into place.

  Before we headed out of the room, I paused. The phone system made a pleasing sound when I yanked it out of the wall and cracked it in my hand. Parker squeaked and laughed.

  “Rhys!”

  “It needed to be done.” I tossed the phone aside and grinned. “Let’s do this.”

  Sixteen

  Parker

  * * *

  For the first time, walking into a room with Rhys holding my hand didn’t make me feel like a fraud. Or that any minute someone would jump up and point at us and shout, “Aha! Stop right there, you charlatans!”

  Not that anyone really talked like that in real life.

  Still, despite being trapped in Fairchild’s house, I walked with giddiness in my step.

  Rhys Morgan and I were now officially a real thing.

  I didn’t know how it had happened or what would happen between us in the future—I just knew I had to explore it. Our chemistry could not be ignored.

  Yes, I was unbelievably attracted to Rhys, more than I’d ever been attracted to anyone, but it was more than that. He was a really good man. I felt like I could trust him.

  That was a huge deal for me.

  He was the first guy since Theo who made me feel brave enough to take the chance on something real. The idea of walking away hadn’t even crossed my mind. I should probably be overanalyzing that and freaking out, but thankfully, there was plenty to distract me from doing so.

  As we wandered into the main living room of Franklin Fairchild’s house, Rhys’s hand tightened reflexively in mine. A few of my colleagues and their partners were gathered, drinks in hand. Fairchild stood in front of the fireplace talking with Jackson.

  His house was … interesting.

  A massive Renaissance painting hung above the huge brick fireplace. Situated around the hearth were sofas and chairs where my colleagues sat beneath large, circular wrought iron chandeliers that held electric candles.

  These would not have looked ou
t of place in a medieval banquet hall.

  A tapestry hung on the opposing wall; suits of armor stood at quiet attention in several corners. All of it distracted guests from the massive picture window perpendicular to the fireplace that captured the stunning snow-covered landscape beyond.

  Two smaller windows on either side did just as beautiful a job framing the scenery.

  Yet, that view, that amazing view, was lost in the over-the-top decoration that said Franklin Fairchild saw himself as some kind of feudal lord.

  As soon as Rhys and I crossed the threshold into the room, a server approached us. “Drinks, sir? Madam?” He gestured to a small bar tucked into the far corner.

  “Tink?” Rhys said.

  “Uh … I’ll have a beer.”

  “Make that two.”

  “Export or import?”

  I pressed my lips together to stop my laughter at Rhys’s expression. He covered the flash of incredulity and replied, “Whatever you recommend.”

  “Bottled or draft?”

  Rhys looked at me. I shrugged. He turned back to the guy. “Bottled is fine.”

  The server nodded, moved to the bar where another server waited, and then returned a few seconds later with two opened, chilled bottles of a German beer I’d never heard of.

  “Jesus.” Rhys took a drink and then glanced down at me. “Ready?”

  I wasn’t the one Fairchild was intent on annoying the hell out of. “Am I ready? Are you?”

  “Morgan, there you are!” Fairchild’s voice rang across the room.

  Rhys gave me a tight smile. “Ready as I’ll ever fucking be.”

  I squeezed his hand to let him know I had his back, and we both exhaled before turning toward Fairchild.

  Smiling hello at my colleagues as we strolled into the center of the room, I wondered why only me, Jackson, Michael, Xander, and Evan and our respective partners had been invited.

  Hadn’t Fairchild said that attendance by everyone in the company was mandatory? No wonder Pete was extra rude toward me that week. Anytime we’d crossed paths, he’d pretended I didn’t exist.