Bird Dog (Confessions of a Chick Magnet Book 4)

by Jenny Gardiner

  “As if people would pay us to hug them.” He rolled his eyes at the notion.

  “Seriously, we put a poster up with a picture of Henry with those puppy-dog eyes, I’m telling you women will be on us like white on rice.”

  Will cocked an eyebrow. “So, are you in this for the philanthropy, or to cop a feel or two with random women?”

  His friend grinned. “Can’t we do both?”

  They high-fived each other as they figured out the simple logistics to get the project underway. They were all together in town for the next few days for their friend Jamie Gusskind’s wedding. Will hadn’t been back home to Bristol, Montana for years—his family had all moved away, so there wasn’t much of a draw to return. Except of course the breathtaking beauty of the craggy mountains and acres of wildflower meadows dotting the valley below. He’d forgotten how much he’d loved this place and was grateful he’d have a few days to soak it all in before he had to head back to the real world. Although now that he’d returned to Bristol, the real world was starting to lose its luster.

  What he hadn’t expected with this fundraising brainstorm was his old science teacher from middle school throwing down fifty bucks to hug him, or one of his mother’s old bridge partners, who gave him a big squeeze while asking about his folks. Once his father had retired from the National Park Service, they’d followed the sun to Arizona. Having a dad who was a ranger had been pretty awesome while growing up, and as children he and his brother and sister got to enjoy the outdoor life in a way most kids didn’t, even in a town where pretty much everyone spent the bulk of their free time—and often even work time—outside, reveling in nature. After the fourth woman old enough to be his mother extracted a hug from him, he leaned over to Ricardo.

  “Dude,” he said. “Here we thought this was gonna be cop-a-feel day on Main Street. Or at least we’d get the chance to quasi-fondle a couple of women who were easy on the eyes.” He scraped his fingers through his wavy, black hair, then scrubbed his hand across his goatee beard. “What do we have to do to get women our age to come over here?”

  His buddy nodded toward two women crossing the street.

  “If you build it, they will come.” He winked. “There’s the answer to your prayers, my friend.”

  Will eyed a stunning blonde, who was maybe three inches shorter than his six-foot build. That was where any comparison with him stopped: where he was hard, she was soft. Where he was solid, she was curvy, with long, lithe runner’s legs in tight blue jeans, a narrow waist, and a set of perky tits that filled out her red body-hugging shirt to a T. His gaze wandered to her face, but a blindfold basically covered half of it up, so there was no telling what she looked like under that mask. No matter. He wasn’t looking for a date to the prom. He merely wanted to while away the next hour or so wrapping his arms around a bunch of hot women, raise some money, and have some fun, then go drink with his buddies. What wasn’t to like about the plan?

  “I call dibs on the blonde,” he said before his friend got a chance to stake his claim.

  “Fine, but you’re buying the first three rounds tonight.”

  Which was kind of a rip-off because Ricardo was technically not allowed to want to grope women since he’d been dating his girlfriend Michelle for at least a month now.

  By the time the blonde finally made it to the front of the line, Will had also hugged an eight-year-old girl, someone’s cat, and a grandpa. Totally not what he’d anticipated when he signed on for this thing. So having some body-to-body contact with a sexy woman in his age range was a welcome change of pace.

  He greeted the blindfolded woman and her guide with a broad smile.

  Up close the woman was even more smokin’ hot. He was going to have to restrain himself or he’d have his palms all over her gorgeous heart-shaped ass before he knew it. Meanwhile, every word she uttered was so snarky, he immediately wanted to angle his mouth over her smart-ass one to quiet the storm that must’ve been brewing in her head.

  Too bad he couldn’t get a good look at her face—between the blindfold and the glare from the sun, it was hard to get a bead on what she looked like. But damn, that body was rocking, with those high, pert tits that were impossible not to ogle and the formfitting jeans taunting him with her tight, hot little body.

  Will gave a quick whistle and his friend’s dog Sherlock loped over to where they were talking, and the brunette started oohing and aahing over him. Chicks loved that dog. Then again, who wouldn’t? He was convinced that Sherlock was the most perfect four-legged creature he’d ever encountered.

  The women loved on Sherlock for a bit but seemed in a hurry to get on with the hug. The blonde stood up and asked what was next, so he told her the drill. Maybe he was being a bit of a smart-ass himself, but she’d already played that card, so he was following suit.

  When she finally piped down and he slid his arms around her waist, the weight of the world slipped away from him. Here he was, embracing a woman he didn’t even know, but he had this burning desire to do exactly what she’d snarkily joked about to him not fifteen seconds ago: insert his Tab A into her Slot B. It did not help matters that the closer his body insinuated itself up against hers, the more his, er, moving parts shifted, like a tree bending toward the warm sunlight.

  Shit, what a time to get a hard-on. There was no distracting himself with math calculations or mental images of his sister’s wedding, not even imagining the gnarled, arthritic hands of his nana could do the trick this time. Because all he could think about were her soft tits pressed so close to his hard chest, with only a millimeter or so of fabric keeping them from being skin to skin. And if things were different—like, say, if he even knew this woman, right about now he’d be groping for the button at the waist of her snug jeans, tugging the zipper down, and before either of them could count to ten, he’d have been pressed so deep inside her, their heads would be spinning. So strange—how could he be overreacting so much to this woman he didn’t even know?

  He was vaguely aware of the brunette nearby popping off a bunch of pictures of them on her phone, but he didn’t give a care about that. As long as she wasn’t Instagramming pictures of him naked, it was all good.

  Inexplicably, though, the mood shifted, and the blonde peeled back suddenly, retreating from his tight, warm, embrace, instead backing away like she’d touched a hot stove. Shit. Clearly his physiological reaction had spooked her, which was kind of sucky because it’s not like he willed himself to grow hard while pressed up against her. Hard not to.

  Lost in thought and focused on minimizing his liabilities, he barely realized what was going on until he saw the blindfold drawn away from her face.

  “You!” she shrieked, pointing at him accusatorily. “How dare you touch me with your grubby little paws? Not to mention that thing!”

  Thing? Hardly the most flattering reference to his favorite body part and lifelong bestie.

  “Elise?” he said, his brows furrowed as he stared at her. “That was you beneath the blindfold the whole time?”

  What the what? Elise Jackson? The woman he lost his virginity to? The one who flipped her shit at him halfway through prom night when she accused him of banging Shannon Cadbury? Even though what he was actually doing was comforting her after something traumatic had happened with her own date? And wait a minute—Elise, a blonde? When did that happen? Shit, she looked damn sexy as a blonde.

  Well, it was no fucking wonder he wanted to have this woman. And why his dick responded to her like some Pavlovian dog. All these years had passed and yet still, something about her called to him. Even though they’d parted ways practically as enemies so many years ago—she, unwilling to hear any reason, he, sick and tired of trying to get through her thick skull and finally giving up. And now this.

  Before he had a minute to process exactly how best to negotiate some sort of it’s-been-seven-years-let’s-start-again kind of truce, the woman wound up slapping him across the cheek. Damn. He wasn’t sure which was crazier—that he stood there, no
t responding to what she’d done, his hand pressed to his smarting face, or that all he could think about was if this was the price to get her back, then maybe he was willing to pay it.

  Chapter Three

  “Oh my God. I need a cigarette,” Elise said.

  Candy did a double take, squinting at her. “Whaaa? You don’t even smoke!”

  Elise rolled her eyes. “No kidding. I hate cigarettes. But that stupid man makes me want to do something reckless, and it’s the first thing I could think of and least immediately dangerous.”

  “How ’bout we opt for getting stinking drunk instead?”

  “Duh. That goes without saying at this point. It can’t happen soon enough.”

  She was so ticked off she was practically seeing spots. Or maybe that was from going from being blindfolded to bright sunlight with the addition of intense rage. Either way, she was livid and there was no calming her down.

  “Did you see that little rat fink?” Her voice had elevated to Vienna Boys’ Choir soprano level. Her eyes were set in a squinty glare. “That disgusting smirk on his face. How dare he touch me like he did?”

  Candy lifted her brow. “Umm... don’t shoot the messenger here,” she said, raising her hands in surrender. “But I’m pretty sure we willingly volunteered you for the task.”

  “Wait a minute. Whose side are you on?”

  Her friend’s eyes opened wide. “Dude! I didn’t know there were sides involved here. I mean, if there are sides, of course I’m on yours. But I’m super unclear about what happened there. Just sayin’.”

  They finally arrived back at the hotel where the bachelorette party festivities were underway.

  Festivities my ass.

  This day had gone from cheesy bridal frivolity to an unwanted reminder about why she left this town behind and had planned on not looking back as much as possible. The only silver lining to this day was that she hadn’t given the guy a blindfolded blow job. Which reminded her... what was up with that yearning sensation she’d experienced when he’d embraced her and pressed himself against her so intimately?

  On the one hand, she was pissed about it, but on the other hand, damn, she’d be a lying dog if she didn’t admit to being at least a little bit turned on. Of course, at first, she freaked out because it was a strange man horning on her, but then she double freaked out when she realized it was her nemesis who’d made his feelings abundantly clear.

  In his defense, getting a hard-on was an autonomic response, so it wasn’t as if he up and thought, Hey, it’s Elise. Let me get hard for her. But come on. Make that don’t come on. Don’t come. Don’t come close to coming. And don’t come near me.

  Gah! She had no idea how to process this unwelcome turn of events.

  She heard a cackle of squeals and turned to see Jennifer, as always beautifully gamine-like with her lithe neck and cropped, dark Audrey Hepburn hair. As her former roommate and childhood BFF, Elise knew for a fact that there was never a time when Jennifer looked anything but perfect. Perfectly cute, perfectly pretty, perfectly sexy, perfectly girl-next-door. This would normally bug her, but because it was Jennifer, you just had to embrace her charm and perfection.

  “And then she hauled back and slapped him, hard,” Candy was saying. Elise turned to see five mouths agape as everyone turned to face her.

  “Oh my God, why would she do that?” said a little redhead named Sammi, one of Elise’s sorority sisters.

  Elise turned to face them. “Okay, so you know I grew up here,” she said. “Purely by happenstance we wandered into the town square and I got somewhat involuntarily blindfolded”—she threw the stink eye to Jennifer—“and my ‘obligatory bridesmaid intimate act’”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“was to hug this guy who was hugging people for charity. I couldn’t see him, so all I knew was this strange man with a cute dog was going to hug me.”

  “How’d you know he had a cute dog?” Sammi said.

  Elise lifted an eyebrow. “Off-topic.” She turned back to the group. “So, for starters, he wasn’t just hugging me—I could feel this bulge growing in his crotch and oh my God, I’m sorry but that was a little too intimate.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?”

  Her forehead ski-sloped toward her nose. “There is no mistaking a humongous cock pressing up against your crotch like a missile with a homing device.”

  “Yeah, but let’s be real. It’s been so long, maybe it was a mirage, like an oasis in the desert for a drowning man.” A grin spread across Jennifer’s face and she licked her fingertip and made a tally mark in the air, then elbowed her friend. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

  “First off, it hasn’t been that long. And second, even if it has been a little longer than might be normal, it’s like riding a bike. You don’t forget.”

  Candy held up her finger. “Hold on, girls. I think we can lay to rest any dispute about this. There’s photographic proof.” She held up her phone. “I popped off a bunch of pictures so that we could post on Instagram like the directions said.”

  She navigated to her pictures and scanned the succession of images taken from differing angles until she found the damning evidence. Using her fingers, she expanded the photo till the bulge filled the screen.

  “Ay, caramba,” she said. “Either that man had a foot-long hoagie in his pocket, or he was super happy to see you.” The women all laughed. “I don’t know that I’d have slapped him so much as hopped on board for the experience.”

  Elise growled. “Stop it. This is no laughing matter.”

  “Awww, come on, Elise,” Jennifer said. “Since when did you get so hypersensitive about something that you’ve gotta admit is awfully funny.”

  “Since my blindfold was removed and there standing before me with a still-looming lump in his pants was Wilson Montgomery. God knows what he’s doing in town, but I’m hoping he rides off into the sunset pronto and I never have to see his face again.” She failed to mention that she noticed the beard and found it unsettlingly sexy. Not like she was a facial hair kinda gal, but he had a Lin Manuel Miranda thing going that stirred things up in the pit of her belly, despite herself.

  “Or feel his crotch again.” Sammi winked at her. Sammi never was her favorite sorority sister. Maybe it was thanks to her complete lack of empathy?

  “Why would he be back here after all these years?” Elise said. “I thought his parents moved away long ago.”

  Jennifer bit her lip, then scrunched her face. “Ummm... There’s something I might have forgotten to mention to you.”

  Elise squinted at her. “No—”

  Jennifer nodded, a pleading look in her eyes. “I’m sorry, hon. Jamie thought it best not to say anything. He didn’t want to get you all upset and agitated, and he knew you would and, well, I figured you’d be okay with it because it’s your best friend’s wedding and a lot of time has passed and we’ve all grown up. Besides, for the sake of our happiness on our wedding day, you’ll of course let bygones be bygones, right?”

  Elise began to pace, running her fingers through her hair. “You mean he’s in town this weekend because he’s in the wedding?”

  Her friend nodded like a dog being scolded for peeing on the floor. “Ummm... yeah.” Elise couldn’t help but think if she’d had a tail, it would be tucked neatly between her legs right about now.

  “Your acts of omission are killing me here.” Elise thrust out her lower lip. “Because all of a sudden I know what you’re not telling me is that not only is he in the wedding, but he’s also the best man. Which means that he and I—the maid of honor—will be paired up together, which means I am so going to kill you. But I’m going to do it real slow. With a butter knife. Carve you up into teeny, tiny pieces and feed you to the coyotes.”

  Jennifer had flagged down a waitress who reappeared with a tray of margaritas. Jen grabbed one and thrust it into her best friend’s hands. “Nothing a little liquor won’t make all better, right?”

  Elise put the salted rim to her lips a
nd tipped the drink back quickly, guzzling the thing in about three gulps. She immediately reached for another drink on the tray. “Just so you know, no amount of liquor will make this better. I’ve been officially relegated to the seventh circle of hell for the next several days, and you are going to owe me for the rest of your life.”

  Jennifer smiled. “On the other hand,” she said, “maybe time has healed old wounds. You and Will might hit it off again. After all, you two did have great chemistry.”

  She shook her head. “We didn’t have great chemistry. We were in chemistry class together.”

  Jen waved her hand. “Oh please, the smoldering looks you two exchanged. The heated make-out sessions at barn parties. I seem to recall you two disappearing up in the haylofts plenty of times.”

  “Who didn’t? That doesn’t mean anything and it doesn’t fix what he did.”

  “If you ask me, that rock-hard hoagie could go far to fixing things,” Sammi said.

  “Jesus, Sammi. Do you have dick-on-the-brain disease or something?”

  “I’m just saying, wowza. If he had that reaction when hugging you for a few seconds, imagine how great it would be if you were a willing participant.”

  “But I wasn’t a willing participant. I was a standing piece of deadwood and that’s how I shall remain.”

  “I don’t know, Elise,” Jennifer said. “I’ve heard he’s got quite the stable of women who have been more than pleased by his, um, hoagie.”

  “Oh, well, in that case, that makes him all the more tantalizing. He’s a disease factory hooking up with any woman with a pulse. Of course, that sounds exactly like the Wilson Montgomery I ditched years ago, the two-timing son of a bitch.”

  “Someone call my name?”

  Elise turned around to follow the sound, and damned if Will wasn’t standing there, looking downright edible—that is, if he was some sort of toxic plant, like, say, those mushrooms you pick in the woods that cause your kidneys to shut down if you ingest them thinking they’re good for you.