by Jo Leigh
Trading Card: Cameron Crawford
Occupation: Brewmaster
Marry/Date/One-Night Stand: One night.
Warning: Seriously hot and seriously unavailable.
As an up-and-coming wine expert, Molly Grainger has zero room for relationships. Fortunately, the Hot Guys Trading Card in her hand is the perfect solution. One night with a tasty, hard-bodied brewmaster who she hopes will go down smooth….
But Cam offers Molly more than just a taste. He offers her an arrangement: Dating of Convenience, with bonus sexy times in between! It’s a perfect pairing of practicality and deliciously naughty chemistry.
And nothing would ruin it more than falling in love….
Never had a man wanted her so much…
Molly couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through her when she could so clearly see the urgency in Cam’s eyes.
His gaze traveled across her face and down her body.
“I want to do everything at once.” And then he had her in his arms, pressed up close, his mouth on hers in a heartbeat.
To think they could have been tangling in the sheets long before tonight...
God, she didn’t want to part for a second. Not when it felt this good. When she’d been so afraid of having this moment.
Why had she ever thought that sex with Cam was a bad idea?
Now, though, she was lost in taste and touch. His hands on her back, holding her close, the way he teased her tongue into following his.
He broke away, gasping. “Clothes,” he said. “Bed.”
Then he stripped off his shirt in one swipe, before kissing her again.
His hands moved to her buttons, which he took care of with such alacrity she wondered if he was a pianist, or if he did card tricks.
But when he kissed the tops of her breasts as he pushed the blouse from her shoulders, she no longer cared….
Dear Reader,
Here’s a toast to Dare Me, book five in the It’s Trading Men! series.
Molly Grainger is a wine critic. Cameron Crawford is a brewmaster. Molly knows from the moment she chooses his Hot Guys Trading Card that they’re perfect for each other...as long as he doesn’t mind that her career is her first priority, and she doesn’t mind that his stay in Manhattan is almost over. No, both of them agree that having perfect no-strings-attached hotter-than-hot sex is a fantastic plan. Or it would be, if they weren’t falling madly in love!
I love to hear from readers! You can find me @Jo_Leigh, and at tumblr.com/blog/joleighwrites.
Look for my next It’s Trading Men! book, Intrigue Me, in October!
Happy reading,
Jo Leigh
DARE ME
Jo Leigh
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jo Leigh is from Los Angeles and always thought she’d end up living in Manhattan. So how did she end up in Utah in a tiny town with a terrible internet connection being bossed around by a house full of rescued cats and dogs? What the heck, she says, predictability is boring. Jo has written more than forty-five novels for Harlequin. Visit her website at www.joleigh.com or contact her at [email protected].
Books by Jo Leigh
HARLEQUIN BLAZE
289—RELENTLESS
301—RELEASE
313—RECKONING
345—KIDNAPPED!
386—COMING SOON
398—HAVE MERCY
424—MS. MATCH
516—SEXY MS. TAKES
571—SHIVER
628—HOTSHOT
665—CHOOSE ME
671—HAVE ME
677—WANT ME
730—LYING IN BED
752—ALL THE RIGHT MOVES
796—SEDUCE ME
To get the inside scoop on Harlequin Blaze and its talented writers, be sure to check out blazeauthors.com.
COSMO RED-HOT READS FROM HARLEQUIN
DEFINITELY NAUGHTY?
All backlist available in ebook format.
To Becca and Tiani for the light they’ve brought
into my life.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Excerpt
1
“OH, COME ON,” Emmy said, hands on her hips, looking disappointed when she should be looking guilty.
Cameron Crawford checked the temperature of the mash for The Four Sisters’ newest summer ale. Eric Strand, the brewery manager, and his crew were attending to the fermentation tanks and Emmy was being a pain in Cameron’s ass, so he ignored her. Until he couldn’t hold on to his temper for another second. “You’re actually surprised I’m upset that you joined some dating cult thing and used my name and picture without my permission? I know you weren’t raised by wolves but only because you’re my sister. What the hell were you thinking?”
Emmy narrowed her eyes. “So I should just tear this card up right now.”
“Yes,” he said. “Please. Do that.”
She laughed. He didn’t care for the sound of it. “You might be a brainiac chemist with a doctorate, little brother, but sometimes you’re as dumb as a box of rocks.”
That made him turn on her. “Really? A box of rocks?”
“Yes. This is a Hot Guys Trading Card,” she said, waving the evidence of her crime as if it were a victory flag. “Although why I ever considered you being a hot guy is anyone’s guess.”
He finished the temperature check, made the notes on the log, then moved on. At least it was cold in the brewery, unlike the rest of Queens. The summers continued to get hotter, which meant their utility bills were out of control, but the heat brought a ton of customers to the brewpub. “Right. Let me get this straight. I’m ugly and stupid and...”
“Selfish.”
He loved his family, he really did, but it was a lot easier when they weren’t living in the same town. All he wanted to do was finish his rounds, then get back to his lab in the back room. “Selfish.”
“You should be glad I’m not moping over my divorce. And there’s no safer way to find a decent man in this city than Hot Guys Trading Cards.”
“Go ahead. Do your trading-card thing all you want. Although, for the record, it doesn’t sound safe. But don’t make me out to be the bad guy just because I’m sick of you and everyone else playing matchmaker.”
“It is safe. Because the men are all direct referrals. Not even friends of friends. You have to know a guy, be related to a guy or work directly with a guy to submit his name. And this has nothing to do with fixing you up. I swear.”
“Right.”
She glared at him. “I wasn’t allowed to choose a card until I’d submitted two of my own.”
“First of all,” he said, after digesting that bit of information, “you should have led with that, but it still doesn’t excuse you from not asking me first.”
“I figured you’d want to help me find someone. And honestly...even though it wasn’t my intention—” holding up her hands, she backed away “—this could end up being good for you,
too.”
And there it was again. The big issue. “Just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” He shook his head. “Emmy, you know how I feel about setups—I don’t like them. I’ll meet the right person when it’s meant to be. It’s all a matter of chemistry, and you can’t manufacture that. I believe in serendipity. Not being auctioned off to the highest bidder.”
“It’s not an auction. You get chosen. If you’re lucky. Then she’ll call you and you can find out all about her from me, because if I don’t know her, I’ll at least know some of her friends, and it’s likely we’ll already have talked before she takes out her cell phone, so yes, it’s safe. And there’s nothing that says serendipity can’t happen via a trading card.”
“How many women are we talking about here?”
Emmy raised her I’m so superior eyebrow, making him regret the question. “At the moment, twenty-seven.”
He knew he was going to be sorry, but the prospect of twenty-seven women deserved a little more investigation. “Are they all as old as you?”
“Very funny, you bastard. Keep making comments like that and I really will tear up the card.”
With great self-control, he faced his sister head-on, deciding the quickest way out was to let her have her say. “Fine. What kind of young ladies are they?”
“Single working women. Our group meets near my office, so most of them work in the East Village. And so far, everyone’s been really nice. Mindy—you know, my friend from krav maga—she invited me.”
“I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
“It doesn’t matter. She’s been to the bar plenty of times, but anyway—” Emmy took a step closer to him. “Wait a minute. She was here last Friday night and you talked to her for, like, twenty minutes. Blonde? Green eyes? Talks like she’s from Jersey?”
“You talk like you’re from Jersey.”
“I do not.”
“Wait, Mindy? I think I remember her now,” he said. “Shorter than you, right?”
“Good try. Everyone’s shorter than me.”
He shrugged. Even twenty-seven single women wasn’t worth much more of this. He’d come back six months ago to help his dad with the craft-beer business. The first four months, he’d been neck-deep in work, so his sisters had left him alone. But lately the whole meddling bunch had been trying to set him up with friends, acquaintances...bar customers... That was the worst. At least Emmy wasn’t pressing him to get married before he left Queens. Probably because she was the only one in the family to have been through a divorce.
Emmy must have realized she was losing him, because her voice got softer. “Okay, look, we’re not dummies. We know we’re throwing women at you, but you know why. It’s Dad. He lives for the day you find a woman like Mom. At least with the trading cards, you’ve got a chance of meeting someone who doesn’t live in the neighborhood.”
“I’ll only be here a few more months, and I’d really appreciate some time off from work and setups. I do just fine on my own in Syracuse, so why does everyone think I need so much help?” He frowned at the card. “What’s all that writing on the back?” he asked, holding out his hand.
She pulled the card away. “You’re gonna thank me.”
“Not feeling the gratitude yet.”
“It says you’re a brewmaster.”
His first instinct was to correct her, but she wasn’t wrong. Not exactly. “Why didn’t you say I’m a chemist?” he asked, his hand still sticking out, waiting. “Since that’s what I am.”
“Because women don’t think of sex when you say chemist.”
“And they do when you say brewmaster?”
She just smiled. “I also said your favorite restaurant is Prune.”
“Prune? It is not.” He made a grab for the card, but damn all six feet of her, she was quick.
“I know. But if I put down your favorite restaurant is White Castle, no one would ever want to date you.”
Not that he’d tell her, but she might have had a point. Although to be clear, White Castle burgers were only one of his favorite foods. He also loved pizza. “Is that it? That’s everything on the card?”
“Nope. I also said your secret passion was creating prizewinning beer, that you’re not nearly as nerdy as you sound, that you’re an all-around great guy, and—”
“You called me a nerd?”
“And all-around great guy.”
“Yeah. Thanks a bunch. Now can I see it?”
She smiled too quickly. “Sure,” she said, handing it over. “Good picture, huh?”
“I don’t remember this photo.”
“Because Jade took it. Stealthily.”
“Great. Now it’s not just one sister. It’s a conspiracy.”
“You might want to turn the card over, Narcissus, and take a look. At each response.”
His sigh said exactly what he thought about what she’d put down for him. Until he got to the choice of marry, date or one-night stand. Ah. Okay. So Emmy did get the only thing he was interested in. “Fine,” he said, handing back the card. “I’ll do it. But only because I’m a good brother.”
Her laughter followed him all the way across the brewery until he closed the door behind him.
* * *
“GOLDFISH,” MOLLY GRAINGER SAID, leaning slightly away from the microphone that dangled in front of her face. “I assume you mean the crackers, not the actual fish.”
Her “frequent listener, first-time caller” Andy laughed. “Yeah. The crackers. The Hot ’n Spicy Cheddar ones.”
“Give me a second.” Although she already knew the wine she’d recommend, Molly waited a few beats for dramatic effect. “Malbec,” she said. “Definitely a Malbec. And I suggest trying one from Argentina. They’ve done wonderful things with an often neglected grape.”
“Okay,” Andy said. “But what makes it good to drink with Goldfish?”
“It stands up well to strong flavors. Malbec has a jammy character, and a great blend of aromas and flavors that makes it very complex, so you’re not just putting out the fire, but adding to the dining experience. Plus there are some very good choices for under twenty-five bucks. Let me know what you think.”
“Cool. Gracias.”
“De nada,” she said, then added, “This is Molly Grainger and you’re listening to Molly’s Wine for Newbies on WNYU radio. We’ll be right back.”
She clicked off her mike and switched her attention to the card that was sitting on her console. She’d just come back from her fifth Hot Guys Trading Cards meeting, and for the first time ever she’d selected a guy. His name was Cameron Crawford. Although he was, by any standard, a very good-looking man, she’d chosen him because he was a brewmaster, a distant cousin of sorts, careerwise. That should make the small talk easier.
Fact was, while she’d worked for years to overcome her natural shyness in order to teach and speak in public, she still had a hard time with personal one-on-one conversations. Which shouldn’t have mattered, since there was no room in her life for anything but a one-night stand right now, and yet she wasn’t about to jump in the sack without at least finding out if she liked the guy first.
Her being a master sommelier and well on her way to becoming a master of wine and Cameron’s passion for brewing gave them enough in common to begin a conversation without too much flailing about. And after meeting his sister Emerald, Molly doubted he’d be horrid. Emmy seemed bright and funny and had that very enviable ability to fit in with a broad assortment of people.
Now all that was left was for Molly to call Cameron and set up a time and place for dinner. Somewhere that wasn’t Prune. She was going to foot the tab, and there was no way she wanted to pay those kinds of prices. She’d already learned that he lived in Queens, so she focused her restaurant search on the area around the Queensboro Bridge. Bistango’s,
perhaps, or Tommy Bahama.
But before she dialed Cameron’s number, she called the woman who’d introduced her to the trading cards: Donna, her boss at Wine Connoisseur and her closest friend. Molly’s producer, Roxanne, would signal her a few seconds before they went back on the air.
Donna answered on the first ring. “Did you call him yet?”
“Nope.” Jeez. Donna had been with her when she’d chosen the card all of one hour ago. “But I’ve figured out where I want to meet. The problem is what happens after.”
Donna was silent for a second. “It’s a date, Mol. You’ve been on dates.”
“Yes, thank you for being so literal.” Molly studied his card again. “He lives all the way out in Queens. You think he’s going to want to come all the way to Bensonhurst for a one-off?” Donna’s laugh was so loud, Molly had to move her phone away from her ear.
“You think a guy looking for a one-night stand via a trading card is gonna balk at a train ride? You have been celibate for way too long.”
“It’s not celibacy if you don’t have time for it.”
“Were you having sex? No? That’s being celibate in my book. You’ve been so busy working I doubt you’ve seen one movie this whole year. Am I right? Of course I’m right. You need to call this man.”
“I’m calling him! Stop yelling at me. I just... I wouldn’t go to Queens for him. That’s all.”
“He won’t mind. I promise.”
“Hey, Molly. You can screw at my place.” Bobby’s voice boomed over the intercom.
Molly closed her eyes. She’d neglected to cut off the intercom between her and the booth. When she did look, it was with a glare at the engineer. “I’m one hundred percent certain you’ve hooked up your entire apartment with video cameras,” Molly said. “You’re a perv, Bobby!” Turning her attention back to Donna, she said, “I’ll call you after I set things up.”
Donna said, “Good,” then hung up just as Bobby said, “I’m a guy, Molly. Did you know we think about sex every six seconds? My interest in the subject is a biological imperative.”
“Your interest in the subject is that you can’t keep it in your pants,” Roxanne said, her voice dripping with disdain. Theirs was not a match made in heaven. Shockingly, Bobby looked a little ashamed. Not that it would last.