“Don’t pretend to be nice to me.” She fluffed her hair out from under the collar.
“I won’t. Don’t worry. I’m keeping a close eye on you, sticky Capone. Let’s get this whole situation on the road.” Wolf stood next to her, but when she pulled her arm away from him twice, he let her manage her own balance.
She did okay. Outside was the same car service driver, but this time she approved of the lack of nineteenth-century art and opened the back door for them.
He closed the door behind Hazel and walked to the other side with the driver.
“She’s okay?”
“Yeah. She’s less angry now. I just want to get her home so she can sleep it off.”
When Wolf slid in beside her, she was already holding up her middle finger.
“Delightful. Your charm is really overwhelming.”
“Pyramid scam artist.” Hazel leaned forward and spoke to the driver. “Have you ever been victim of a scam? This guy stole a thousand dollars from me tonight. And now I have to go on five dates to get my money back. Does that seem fair to you? Just because I paid for this stupid dating service with a check.”
She sat back and folded her arms over the Booty Camp T-shirt and jacket.
“I always pay with checks. You get hacked too often with credit cards.” The driver looked in the rearview window.
“Thank you!” Hazel glowered at him.
He felt compelled to defend himself. “It’s not my policy, it’s the bank's. I’m just saying if you manage to go on the dates before the check clears, then you can get your money back sooner.”
Hazel ignored him and offered the next argument to the driver, who was apparently now judge and jury for the whole issue. “How shady does that sound?”
“Super shady.” The driver agreed.
“Men.” Hazel looked out the window. “You can’t trust them. I swear. Now I’m headed home to listen to my ex-boyfriend drill his new girlfriend in his apartment right above mine for the rest of the evening.”
“No!” The driver frowned.
“Oh yes. He cheated on me with her, and now I can’t get out of my lease,”—Hazel shot Wolf a look—“which seems to be the theme of my life right now.”
The driver sighed. “Sometimes life shits on us for a while. It could be worse.”
Wolf looked out his window and felt a spark of sympathy for Hazel. He knew what being betrayed felt like, that was for sure.
“He’s just such a dick about it. I mean, the new girlfriend lives in my building, too, so they could spend the night at her place where I wouldn’t have to hear it. But no, they go to his place.” Hazel ran her finger along the window. “And the girlfriend? She’s so proud of herself for taking him from me. I swear she times things so I run into them constantly at the elevator or when I’m getting the mail.”
Wolf cleared his throat. It explained why her energy was so tough to read. It was broken. The car pulled to the curb, and the driver turned and held out her hand to Hazel. “It’ll be okay, sister. Hang in there.”
Hazel smiled and thanked her, squeezing her hand in feminine camaraderie.
“Here, keep my card. I’ll drive you where you need to go in the city.”
Hazel opened her own door before saying, “Of course this stealer, stealer, pumpkin peeler will pay this fare.”
“Of course,” the driver replied.
Wolf frowned. The women were working against him.
He tapped the seat in front of him lightly. “Can you stay here? I want to make sure she gets into her place, and then I have to go back to the theater.”
“Sure thing, sugar buns.” The driver slid the car into Park and slapped on her four ways. “I’ll give you ten minutes, then I’ll roll out. You can call me if it takes longer, and I’ll roll back and get you if I’m available.”
Wolf opened the door after making sure the traffic had slowed.
Hazel was resting against the wall, obviously waiting for the elevator. He walked to the door, but it was locked.
Wolf decided that he would watch her get on the elevator since she was not making any attempt to come open the door for him. And then a couple came up behind him.
“There’s your ex! Holy crap, she looks wasted. How sad. Can you feel me up in front of her again? I love to watch her change colors. She goes all green.”
The man, who looked like a Ken doll come to life, pulled out a key card and tapped it on the device to open the door.
“Sure thing, baby. I love your mean streak.”
As they entered the building, Wolf watched as Hazel’s eyes found the loud couple.
They were fawning all over each other.
The defeat in Hazel’s posture made Wolf grab the door before it closed and locked him out.
Her eyes looked moist before she aimed her gaze toward the floor. The two idiots were playacting their parts to make her extra miserable.
Wolf planned on regretting later what he was going to do now. She might even have him arrested for it, but he pushed the Ken doll out of the way like he was dying of thirst and Hazel was a glass of water.
She was surprised when she looked up to see him stalking her. She looked over her shoulder, saw only the wall, and turned back to him.
Wolf snaked one arm around her waist and slid his other arm behind her neck. Her grabbed a fistful of her brown hair and used it to guide her mouth to his.
He kissed the living hell out of her.
At first she was tense and unmoving. But he refused to let it stop him. The elevator’s bell sounded as the doors opened.
When Ken doll and mean slut tried to step on to it, Wolf held out his arm out to block them.
He hefted Hazel, and she took the hint, hopping up and straddling him, koala style. He never stopped kissing her. Well, now she was kissing him while he used his arm to bar the others from the elevator.
The mean slut muttered, “That’s some damn kiss.”
Wolf turned and put Hazel against the wall. And he knew he was doing it for her, but everything she was doing in rebuttal was very welcome to his now rock-hard dick.
The doors closed behind them and the elevator started its assent before he forced himself to put her down.
She straightened his Booty Camp shirt and jacket on her body and covered her mouth with one hand. Then she slapped his chest with the other.
“What the hell was that?”
Wolf turned to try and avoid showing her everything he had to offer in his pants. The elevator was headed up, but he hadn’t pushed a button. “What floor are you on?”
“What?” Hazel sounded breathless.
“Your floor number? So I can make sure you get home.” Wolf kept his back to her as the elevator zoomed up to the eighth floor.
“I’m on the third. Why did you kiss me like you just came back from war?” Hazel touched his shoulder.
At least she wasn’t slapping him anymore.
He pressed Three.
A person got on with a laundry basket, and the doors closed. Wolf waited until the elevator stopped again and held open the door for her but didn’t follow her out.
She stepped onto the hall carpet and put her hand next to his, not letting the doors close. “Tell me why you kissed me.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t like the way you looked at your feet when they came into the lobby.”
She stepped back. “A pity kiss? How much does that cost me?”
Wolf tossed up his hands. He’d been trying to be nice. The doors closed but not before he got a glimpse of her looking as broken as she had before he’d kissed her.
He rubbed his temple.
“You’re pretty.”
“Excuse me?”
The man holding the laundry basket repeated himself. “You’re pretty.”
“Thanks?” Wolf finally paid attention to the bizarre fact that this old man was doing his laundry at midnight.
“That’s your answer. If she ever asks you that question again. The answer is always ‘because yo
u’re pretty’ or 'because I had to.’ ‘Because I can’t breathe unless my skin is touching yours.' Any of those." The old man adjusted his grip on the basket.
“And you’re the expert?” Wolf doubted that a man cleaning his undies on a Friday night could give him, the owner of Booty Camp, any advice.
“I was married for fifty-four years. You kiss a woman because she’s beautiful to you. Any other reason and you don’t deserve her lips.” The elevator pinged its arrival at the lobby.
“Was married?”
“My Ethel passed last year.” The man stepped into the lobby where Ken and mean slut were still waiting.
“Thanks for that advice.” Wolf knew the guy was right. Fifty-four years of experience surely had him beat.
Ken Doll and slut started making out—maybe as retaliation—but Wolf looked at his phone to check the time, and he made it outside just as the car was pulling away. He tapped the side and the driver stopped, popping the locks to let him inside. He’d just made a huge mistake. No kissing clients was his rule. And he broke it. He would have to convince Hazel to keep their lip-lock private as soon as possible. A lapse in judgment. But damn if everything about her wasn’t soft and tempting and downright lovely.
Chapter 6
So He Kissed Her
Hazel looked at her reflection in the shiny metal of the elevator door. She touched her lips and her hair at the same time. Wolf could kiss. His lips actually tasted delicious. Like, not like a food, but in a way that totally worked for her lady parts.
And getting kissed like that in front of Scott and Hyena was probably worth a thousand dollars, if she was being honest.
She slid her heels off and picked them up as she headed to her apartment. Scott and Hyena would probably ramp up the screwing tonight just to prove a point. Hazel slammed the door and locked it behind her while texting Claire with the details of her elevator ride right away.
It had been a frustrating night—from top to bottom. But thinking about Wolf’s bottom was at the top of her frustration list right now. She wanted to take out her loneliness on him. Between her legs. Even if she was pissed at him for stealing her money.
The physical contact she'd had with Wolf tonight had her all fired up, clearly burning through her common sense in a hot minute. Maybe she even wanted to have him not stop at the kissing. It was a blow, actually, that she hadn't been the one to send him away.
It was a weird night that she decided to put to bed after she had a nice hot shower.
XOXOXOXO
In the morning, well the late morning, she got a text message from Claire.
I’m here. I’m coming up.
Claire had a key and all her codes because she was Hazel’s person. So Claire was sitting on the end of her bed, offering a cup of coffee from their favorite shop, before Hazel even got to have her morning pee.
Hazel fluffed the pillows and sat up in bed, taking the cup from her friend. Then Claire sat next to her.
“So what color do you want to wear?”
They both took sips of their coffee.
“To what?” Hazel was confused and looked at Claire’s face. Her eyes were shining with excitement.
“My wedding. You’re the maid of honor, of course.”
“What the hell happened last night?” Hazel touched the back of her head, which actually hurt a little. Whether it was from the hangover or the blow she took to it, she wasn’t sure.
“Him. He happened. We’re getting married as soon as humanly possible. Well, as soon as possible while looking fabulous in a splendid venue. He proposed. I said yes.” Claire held out her left hand, which appeared to have a paperclip wrapped around it.
“You haven’t even known him a full day.” Hazel set her coffee on her nightstand and turned to face Claire, grabbing her by the shoulders.
“It doesn’t matter. He’s the one. I know it better than I know my name. You know how it is with me and you? How we just get each other? He’s like that, but with a beautiful penis, and I love him so much.” Claire pulled her phone out of her pocket and squealed. “He’ll be here in a minute.”
“You’ve lost your mind.” Hazel watched as her friend bounded to the intercom and buzzed up someone.
“Please.” Claire went from excited to serious. “Be supportive. You know my family will be against this.”
“Yes. Because they are sane.” Hazel pulled the covers up over her sleep tank just as a knock on the door made her long for more clothes.
“You know, if you could just be the person who understands this, that’s what I need right now.” Claire left her to answer the door.
Hazel leaned over the bed, grabbed the robe she had tossed on the floor after her shower last night, and was able to get her arms in it and put her nipples away before Chance and Claire came into her bedroom, canoodling again.
“Hazel?” Chance addressed her.
Hazel covered her mouth, grateful that the coffee probably masked her morning hangover breath but still self-conscious.
“I wanted someone to witness this.” The huge man dropped to his knee and grabbed Claire’s hand. He wiggled the paperclip off and pulled a blue box from his pocket. “I know we covered this last night, but I wanted to make it very official. Claire, I’ve been waiting for you. My whole life. You make everything clear. Be my wife.”
Claire teared up and nodded furiously as Chance slipped a sparkling ring on her finger. Hazel felt her own eyes moisten.
It was not normal to fall in love in less than twelve hours, but the way Chance looked at Claire was something to see.
Hazel belted her robe and crawled out of bed. After Chance stood to kiss and hug Claire, Hazel stepped into their embrace.
“You crazy kids. I’m so happy for you.”
Chance picked them both up in his excitement, and Claire and Hazel screamed and laughed.
Claire was getting married. Damn.
Chapter 7
Yeah, You Can’t Just
Marry People Like That
Wolf got into work on time, and as soon as he noticed Chance was missing, he checked his phone. As if his best friend heard the question on the waves of telepathic bromance, a text popped up with a picture.
It was a picture of an engagement ring.
Oh shit.
Wolf texted back:
Yeah, you can’t just marry people like that.
Chance got him back immediately.
Like hell I can’t. She’s perfection. PS, I’m going to be late, brother.
This was bad. Chance was losing his mind. Granted, Claire was gorgeous and their energies were synched up, but to be cautious, they should really make sure their energies didn’t change over a period of time.
He pushed his phone into his pocket. He would have to worry about that later. Right now he was taking updates on the second string of singles coming in tonight. His first priority was matching anyone from last night. String A had to be sorted and satisfied, and then he worked on the next list. They usually got through three whole groups before moving to the next city.
His staff was issuing the invites for a mixer very similar to the one they held last night. He had six snapshots of leftover singles who just didn’t work with anyone else.
He shuffled until he got to her, though he told himself it was just paperwork. She was the most dissatisfied client last night, so they would work hard tonight to get her matched up. None of the leftover men from last night were a match, so she would be the first up to bat when he was matching tonight.
He would find a great match, and she would be done complaining and fighting with him. He put her picture in the top drawer of his desk.
Chance walked in three hours late with a big, dumb grin on his face. He picked up Wolf when he saw him. “She said yes! Holy shit!”
“You asked her already? Put me down, you goddamned monster.” Wolf pushed free.
“I did. She was into it. You’re my best man. We’re getting married as soon as possible. You know what? This place is go
rgeous! We have it for what? Eight weeks? Maybe we can do the ceremony here.”
Chance gestured around the room like he was seeing it for the first time.
“It’s great. And this is where we met. How romantic. Can you believe it, brother? I’m doing it. It’s happening.”
“You met her yesterday.”
“That was a great damn day.” Chance touched the painting Hazel had stolen for a little while the night before. “This stuff is gorgeous. It would make a great wedding venue, right? She said yes. I can’t believe it. We’ve done this for over two years, and I believed in it for everyone else, but I never thought of it for me. You know? But now that it’s happened, I want to dip your whole body in solid gold; because of you, there is her. You are epic. Damn it, I love you.” Chance slapped Wolf into a hug again.
His friend's exuberance was contagious, and Wolf could feel a smirk working on his lips. “I love you, too, you impulsive girl.”
Chance picked Wolf up the way Wolf had carried Hazel yesterday and started singing, “I feel pretty! Oh so pretty!”
The staff had gathered around the spectacle his friend was putting on and including him in.
“We have work to do, dickhead. Let’s go.”
Chance was a happy idiot, but he normally had a pretty impressive work ethic. Luckily, the mention of the job seemed to snap Chance out of his delirium. After he set Wolf down for the second time, Chance had to clear up one thing.
“You’ll do it, right? You’ll be my best man?”
Wolf rolled his eyes before slapping Chance’s huge back. “Of course. You know I’ll do it.”
The staff started clapping until Wolf shooed them back to their posts.
Wolf didn’t show it, but he was worried about this sudden relationship, which was ironic considering his line of work. Chance didn’t give his heart freely. He was always aloof with the ladies. But he was so head over heels, Wolf was afraid if it didn’t work out, if the energy—soured, Chance would blame him.
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