Tempt Me: A First Class Romance Collection

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Tempt Me: A First Class Romance Collection Page 139

by Hawkins, Jessica


  “He does,” Zander confirms. “Mad.”

  “Give us an example,” Henn says. “Something you’d say to bag a babe in a bar. Like, hey, pretend T-Rod’s a random babe you wanna bag. Show us your magic.”

  “Okay,” Keane says. He looks at me and flashes his ridiculous dimples. “Hello.”

  “Hello,” I reply, a smirk already dancing on my lips.

  “What’s your name, baby doll?”

  “Tessa. And please don’t call me baby doll.”

  “Hold up,” Josh says loudly from the other end of the table, putting up his palm. “Theresa, why the fuck has everyone been calling you ‘Tessa’ all week? What am I missing?”

  I smile sheepishly. “Tessa’s actually the name I go by in real life. Not Theresa.”

  “In real life?” Josh asks.

  “Outside of work. Everywhere else.”

  “See? I told you, babe!” Kat says triumphantly.

  “What the fuck!” Josh says, laughing. “After six years, you finally tell me this little factoid about yourself for the first time?”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, laughing with everyone at the table. “For some stupid reason, I put my given name on my résumé, and when you started calling me ‘Theresa,’ I just never corrected you. But, yeah, I’ve never gone by Theresa in my life, ever, other than with you.”

  Josh shakes his head. “You’re so lame, T.”

  I laugh. “I know. I’m sorry. Feel free to keep calling me Theresa. I’m totally used to it by now.”

  “Fuck no,” Josh says, like I’ve just suggested he clean his toilet bowl with his tongue. “If family calls you Tessa, then that’s what I’ll call you, too.” He smiles warmly at me.

  I flash him a shy smile, but my heart is racing. If this isn’t the best week of my life, I don’t know what is. “Okay,” I say. “Thank you.”

  Keane whistles like he’s summoning a dog. “Um, excuse me, Tessa? Congrats on the Hallmark moment with your boss, but I believe I was in the middle of bagging a babe?”

  Everyone laughs.

  “Forgive me,” I say. “Proceed with the babe-baggery.”

  “Thank you.” Keane pauses for effect and then cartoonishly flashes me an unmistakable smolder. “Helloooo.”

  I giggle. “Hello.”

  “What’s your name, beautiful girl?”

  “Tessa.”

  “I’m Keane.” He puts out his hand and I shake it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tessa.” He flashes me his dimples for a long beat and then looks at Henn. “Okeedokey, she’s good to go.”

  Everyone laughs.

  “What?” Henn says, incredulous. “T-Rod, are you ‘good to go’?”

  “Not by a long mile,” I say, and everyone laughs again.

  Keane rolls his eyes. “Well, of course, you’re not good to go, T-Rod. My charm won’t work on you because we’ve already established a big-sister-little-brother thing.”

  My heart skips a beat. He feels it, too? Oh my God, I’m in heaven.

  “Plus, you’re a smart-girl,” Keane continues, “and I never go for smart-girls. Ask anyone—way too much trouble. But, I’m tellin’ ya, gimme a random, not-so-smart chick in a bar and what I just did would work like a charm. And you wanna know why? Because I sent you a subliminal message to the pleasure-center in your brain by using your name and the word ‘pleasure’ in close proximity. And then, I went in for the kill by flashing these.” He smiles and points at his dimples. “Which means I’ve got my field sown, so to speak, and now, all I have to do is this.” He crooks his finger in a come-hither motion. “And you’ll follow me to the ends of the earth.”

  Everyone laughs and expresses outrage.

  “Peenie’s not exaggerating all that much, guys,” Zander says. “I’ve seen him in action too many times to count, and all he has to do is smile and women pretty much throw themselves at him. The come-hither motion is a bonus.”

  “Yup,” Keane says. “It’s like pickin’ chocolates outta box—pickles from a jar.”

  “Unfortunately, I can vouch for him, too,” Kat tells the group. “Women blatantly throw themselves at Peenie, no matter what completely piggish or sexist thing he says or does. They have no self-respect or shame.”

  “Hey, I’m not a pig,” Keane says defensively, and he sounds remarkably sincere. “I respect and admire women and that’s the God’s truth. The Motherboard would string me up by my balls if I didn’t. It’s not my fault I was born with these.” Keane smiles and points at his dimples and everyone laughs.

  “Ugh,” Henn says. “You Morgan boys are living in the same alternate universe as the Faradays—a world I’ve never visited. Not that I need advice on ‘bagging babes’ these days, thank God...” He puts his arm around Hannah’s shoulder. “But, if I did, I wouldn’t ask any of you dudes. I mean, jeez, if I did this to a girl.” He crooks his finger at Hannah. “She’d do this.” He raises a stiff middle finger and everyone laughs.

  “No, I wouldn’t,” Hannah says. “I’d do this.” She grabs Henn’s head like a bowling ball and lays a big ol’ kiss on his lips, making everyone at the table laugh and swoon.

  “So, hey, T-Rod,” Reed says, smiling at me like a shark. “If cheesy pick-up lines like Keane’s don’t work on a smart-girl like you, what does work? I’m taking notes.”

  My chest tightens. Without meaning to do it, I glance at Ryan. If he was plotting Reed’s murder before, he’s now plotting a nuclear holocaust in which, somehow, Reed’s body would simultaneously serve as both the bomb and the target.

  I clear my throat. “I never said cheesy pick-up lines don’t work on me. It just depends on the messenger. I remember this one time, a hot guy in a bar said a line to me that made me putty in his hands.” I pause, suddenly feeling myself blush. “I’d mentioned to him that I speak Spanish because my dad grew up in Argentina, and we were talking about high school, and he goes, ‘If I met you when we were both in high school, I would have been on you to tutor me like blanco on arroz.’”

  I shoot Ryan a secret smile and his eyes blaze.

  “Blanco on arroz?” Henn says, abruptly lifting his head like a Golden Retriever whose owner just threw a tennis ball. “A guy said that to you in a bar?”

  I nod. “And I loved it.” Again, I shoot a quick look and smile at Ryan.

  Henn beams a huge smile at me. “You speak Spanish, T-Rod? I don’t think I realized that about you.”

  “Mmm hmm. My dad’s from Buenos Aires originally.”

  “That’s so cool,” Henn says. “You know, I just realized I know hardly anything about you. Like, for instance, how old are you?”

  “Twenty-seven. And you?”

  “Thirty. Where’d you grow up?”

  “Los Angeles. You?”

  Without warning, Ryan stands abruptly. “So, hey, you guys ready to head to dinner? Looks about time.”

  “Absolutely,” Kat says, bolting up from her chair and standing alongside her brother. “Let’s go. Right now. I’m starved. Let’s head to the restaurant right now.”

  Everyone gets up from the table and begins shuffling en masse out of the bar, but Henn’s such a sweetheart, he lags to the back of the slow-moving group to walk with me and finish our conversation, instead of walking up ahead with his best friends.

  “I grew up in Fresno, to answer your question,” Henn says. “What’s your sign, Tessa?”

  “Virgo. Yours?”

  “Sagittarius.”

  “I don’t know anything about astrology,” I say.

  “Me, either. But Kat does.”

  Right on cue, Kat is suddenly walking alongside Henn and me. And then Ryan’s right here with us, too, along with Colby, as the rest of the group walks ahead, chatting animatedly among themselves.

  Now that Colby’s walking with us, our small group slows down a bit to accommodate him, letting the rest of the group go on ahead.

  “So you’re a twenty-seven-year-old Virgo from L.A. who speaks Spanish because your dad’s Argentinian, huh?”
Henn says. “I feel stupid I didn’t know any of that about you before. Hey, out of curiosity, have you ever—”

  “Henny!” It’s Kat, shocking the hell out of me by practically shrieking his name. She grabs Henn’s hand. “Oh, my darling Henny! Can I talk to you for a second, love?”

  “Sure.”

  As Kat pulls Henn away and begins whispering in his ear, my phone pings with a text from Charlotte.

  “Shoot,” I say, reading Charlotte’s text. “Hey, Kat,” I call to her. “Sorry to interrupt you. Charlotte just texted me: she can’t make it to Maui.”

  “No?” Kat says. “Shoot. I was really hoping to meeting the legendary Charlotte McDougal.”

  Henn grins. “Charlotte McDougal?”

  “Tessa’s best friend,” Kat says, grinning at Henn.

  I nod. “I was hoping Charlotte would pop over here and be my plus-one for the rest of the week, but she’s going on an anniversary cruise with her parents next week and she can’t do both because of her work schedule.” I look at Kat. “Charlotte told me to tell you and Josh congratulations and thank you for the invitation.”

  “Tell her we hope to meet her another time.”

  “What kind of work does your best friend Charlotte McDougal do?” Henn asks, sliding his arm around Kat’s waist as we continue walking slowly alongside Colby and Ryan.

  “She’s a flight attendant.”

  Henn’s smile broadens. “For what airline, out of curiosity?”

  “Delta,” I reply.

  Henn’s smile is absolutely beaming. “Charlotte McDougal of Delta.”

  We reach the entrance to the restaurant and the larger group walking ahead of us ambles inside.

  “Hang on, guys,” Kat says to our small group, making everyone halt. Kat calls ahead to Josh in the restaurant. “I’ll be there in a minute, PB! Save me a seat!”

  “You got it, PG!” Josh calls back.

  Kat looks at me. “Oh, you can go ahead, too, Tessa. I just need to chat with Henny, Colby, and Ryan for a quick second about a birthday present for Keane. Henn’s maybe gonna help us figure something out.”

  “Oh, cool,” I say, feeling hugely relieved. For a split-second there, I had this weird feeling Kat wanted to talk to Ryan, Colby, and Henn about me. I look pointedly at Ryan. “I’ll see you inside.”

  Ryan smiles warmly at me. “Save me a seat right next to you, okay?”

  I feel giddy. I was hoping we’d sit together at dinner. “Ay, ay, Cap’n.”

  With that, I practically float into the restaurant, feeling like my decision to say yes to a weeklong, no-strings fling in paradise with a beautiful manwhore was a truly stupendous idea.

  52

  Ryan

  “How’d you figure it out?” I ask Henn, looking over my shoulder to make sure Tessa’s firmly inside the restaurant.

  “Blanco on arroz,” Henn says. “You told me you said that to Samantha in the bar, remember?”

  “Shit.”

  “Now please tell me how the fuck T-Rod is Samantha?” Henn says. “Because my gray matter is splattered all over those palm trees way over there.”

  I tell Henn the whole flippin’ story and Henn seems absolutely astonished.

  “So you have talked to Charlotte?” Henn says. “You said you called Charlotte and she hasn’t called you back.”

  “What else could I say in front of Josh?” I say. “Tessa doesn’t want Josh to know yet. Plus, he warned me off her on Day One.”

  “But you two already know?” Henn says to Kat and Colby.

  “I figured it out,” Kat says. She tells Henn the whole flippin’ story of how she put two and two together.

  “You’re a genius, Kumquat,” Colby says.

  “Why, thank you, Cheese.”

  Henn snorts. “Dude, you’d better tell Jonas what’s going on. At the opening party, when Jonas thought you were dropping ‘Samantha’ like a hot potato, he had a few not-very-nice things to say about you behind your back.”

  “Motherfucker,” I say. “I don’t want Jonas thinking I was being insincere about my soul connection with Samantha. But I can’t tell him yet—I just need a couple more days with Tessa and then this whole thing will be out in the open.”

  “Why not just tell T-Rod everything now?” Henn asks.

  I tell Henn the strange dichotomy that is Theresa “Tessa” Rodriguez: namely, that she wanted to “take it slow” when she thought there was real potential for a relationship with me, and yet she jumped right into the sack with me when she was positive we had no future. “If I tell Tessa everything before she sees a crystal-clear future with me, I’m worried she’ll freak out and shut down on me.”

  “I used to do the exact same thing Tessa’s doing here,” Kat says. “I had a strict no-sex policy for first dates and I never broke my rule... unless I was sure my date wasn’t boyfriend-material—in which case, if he was hot enough, I banged the hell out of him, made him fall in love with me, and then never saw him again.”

  Henn cringes.

  “Ah, the ol’ ‘Dabble, Dash, and Destroy,’” I say, doing my best Keane impression, and we three Morgans crack up.

  Henn looks appalled.

  “Aw, come on, Henny,” Kat says. “You’ve never pulled the ol’ D, D & D?”

  “Never.” Henn mutters something under his breath about us Morgans being another species of human, and then he shakes his head and says, “So, Ryan, my two cents? I wouldn’t wait too long to tell T-Rod about the Search for Samantha. I think waiting could backfire on you.”

  “I’ll for sure tell her before we leave Maui.”

  “Why don’t you tell her at the wedding reception?” Kat suggests. “You know, dance the night away with her and then take her out for a walk in the moonlight on the beach and bare your soul to her?”

  “But, dude,” Henn says, “T-Rod might get pissed at you if you wait that long to tell her. She might feel like you lied through omission.”

  I feel anxious all of a sudden. I look at my brother and sister. “What do you guys think? Am I more fucked if I tell her too soon, thereby risking her freaking out and shutting down, or if I wait too long to tell her, thereby risking her getting pissed at me?”

  “What does your gut tell you?” Colby asks.

  “It tells me to wait ’til Tessa’s fallen for me to hit her with the ‘Search for Samantha.’ But, hey, I’m the dude who dated Olivia, remember? My gut obviously can’t be trusted.”

  Kat looks thoughtful. “I think your best bet is to wait a bit. Let’s not forget you hacked into nine freaking airlines to find her. I mean, Holy Stalker, Batman! If a girl doesn’t trust a guy completely by the time she hears that cray-cray story, she’s probably gonna feel more freaked out than romanced. Plus, the Virgo-Taurus love-compatibility info strongly suggests you gain her trust before dropping a bomb like that.”

  “All right, I’ll bite,” I say. “Tell us all about Taurus-Virgo’s ‘love-compatibility,’ Kat.”

  Kat’s face lights up. “Well, gosh, thanks for asking. Taurus-Virgo is one of the strongest love-compatibilities there is—both earth signs, so they innately understand each other. A female Virgo is tightly wound and extremely slow to trust, but that means her knight in shining armor is a male Taurus because he’s the most patient guy on the Zodiac. The male Taurus doesn’t simply know how to break down a female Virgo’s walls, he relishes doing it. He absolutely adores the fact that, once he finally breaks down her walls and infiltrates her, he’ll get to experience something hardly anyone ever does: her gooey-soft center. And since our female Virgo isn’t someone who sleeps around or hops from relationship to relationship, once she finds the Taurus man who’s willing to put in the time and effort to get to her gooey-soft center, she’ll never, ever let him go and will make sure his efforts are well worth his while.”

  All three of us guys stare at Kat, speechless.

  Kat shrugs. “It’s just like Pretty Woman, only with the genders reversed.”

  “How do you figure?�
�� Colby asks.

  “Why do you think Julia was able to get to Richard’s gooey-soft center in one week? Because Richard never for a minute thought he could develop real feelings for a hooker in thigh-high boots, so he didn’t have his walls up—which is why she was able to infiltrate him. She blindsided him.”

  There’s a beat, during which Henn, Colby, and I look at each other.

  “It actually makes a weird kind of sense,” Henn says.

  Colby nods. “It really does.”

  “I gotta hand it to you, Jizzy Pop,” I say. “I’m constantly amazed at how many ways you’re able to use Pretty Woman as a guide to life.”

  Kat shrugs. “Like I always say: ‘Everything you need to know, you can learn from Pretty Woman.’”

  53

  Ryan

  “It sounds intriguing,” Josh says—and my heart rate quickens with excitement.

  While everyone else in the wedding brigade has traipsed off to the resort’s nightclub for some post-dinner karaoke, Josh and I are sitting alone in one of the hotel bars, talking about my vision for Captain’s—a conversation initially sparked at dinner, when it happened to come up that both Josh and I had been bartenders in college.

  “So how far along are you in your planning?” Josh asks, sipping his Scotch.

  “I’ve got a business plan drafted and I’m this close to having enough capital to get going,” I reply. “I just gotta close a few big deals this year and I’ll be off to the races.”

  “Well, if your only impediment to getting started right away is cash, I’ve got plenty of that. You interested in taking on a partner?”

  My heart leaps. “Fuck yes,” I say. “I’d love to partner with you, Josh.”

  “Fair warning, though: if I were part-owner of Captain’s, I’d wanna get behind the bar and play bartender every once in a while. I recently did that at The Pine Box for a shift, and it reminded me how much I used to love it in college.”

  “You could play bartender at Captain’s any time you like, Lambo,” I say. “Any time.”

 

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