This Crazy Little Thing (A New Adult Billionaire Romance)

by Tamryn Ward

  Too bad she was walking with her friend’s fiancé and not her own.

  “I couldn’t get her to even consider anywhere else. This is the only place she’s mentioned since we first started talking about getting married.”

  Jane shrugged her shoulders. “Lie. Tell her it isn’t available.”

  “No. I can’t do that. Besides, she’d be determined enough to call and check. Then she’d know I was lying.”

  “Yeah. I can see her doing that.”

  He stopped walking and turned to face Jane, his eyes searching hers. “Maybe I have no business asking this but how did you do it? How’d you get her to listen? I need to know. Heck, my future marriage may count on it.”

  How would she explain it without taking sides or making Monica look bad? “It’s a secret. I… Uh, she was in a position where she had no choice.”

  “Yeah?” He leaned back against a tree trunk and crossed his thick arms over his chest. “So tell me, Jane Brown, what’s your secret?”

  You don’t really want to know my secrets, Jason Foxx! Do you?

  There was something in her eyes that enchanted him. For some reason, as he stole as many minutes with her as he could, making whatever excuses necessary to keep her here with him, he didn’t feel like he should—guilty as hell. He was engaged after all, planning his wedding with Monica. But I’m beginning to believe I don’t love her. She’s not the woman I fell in love with.

  At the moment all he could think about was listening to Jane speak. He didn’t care about anything else.

  Who was Jane Brown?

  In a deep, down-in-the-gut sense, he felt like he knew her from somewhere, but he could find nothing familiar about her face, hair, or features. They were soft, feminine, pretty, but not as stunning as Monica’s. Not as flashy or polished. Even so, he found her incredibly attractive. She was like the crisp fall air whirling around them and tossing the leaves about. Fresh, earthy, sensual.

  She was nervous, had been since the minute they’d met outside the manager’s office. He could tell by the flush on her face, the way her gaze hopped around.

  Why? He sensed she was hiding something, a secret. What could it be?

  Her cheeks were deep red now, having stained the charming shade when he’d right-out asked her what her secret was. Her brown eyes, the color of the earth, hid her secret well but occasionally little sparks of something shimmered in their depths. Would she tell him the truth?

  “I don’t have any secrets,” she lied.

  He wanted to smile, to let her know he couldn’t be so easily fooled, but he didn’t. For one thing, it would draw out the game. He had all night. Monica had told him she had plans with some girlfriends.

  He felt her drawing closer before she moved, almost like her spirit had reached toward him before her body did. She shuffled closer, closing the distance between them to less than a foot. Her arms hanging at her sides, she stared down at his feet for several heartbeats before looking up into his eyes again.

  Her lower lip trembled and she bit it, making it stain a deep cherry red. He licked his mouth, wishing he could taste her.

  “I can’t tell you my secrets.” Her hushed voice barely rose above the sound of the rustling leaves.

  “Why not?”

  One side of her mouth quirked up into a playful half-smile. “Then they wouldn’t be secrets anymore,” she said as she took a single step backward.

  A retreat.

  He wasn’t about to let her get away that easily. He unfolded his arms and moved forward, diminishing the distance between them to mere inches. He still wasn’t close enough, but for now he would have to be content. “They’re in your eyes, you know.”

  “What?”

  He reached forward and stroked the side of her face with his index finger. Her skin was satin smooth and warm. His gaze fixed on her eyes. “Your secrets. I can read them there.”

  She turned her head. “If that’s true, then you don’t need me to tell you.”

  With his palm, he urged her to look at him again. He ached to find that connection again, when their gazes locked and the veil between them was drawn away. I don’t understand it, but I need to know this woman. I need to touch her, to hear her voice. “But I want to hear you speak it, to say what I see in those eyes.”

  Still looking away, she shook her head. “I can’t. It’s… You don’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  She finally met his gaze and his body warmed as he sensed the arousal she seemed to be trying so carefully to hide…or to douse. “You’re engaged. I shouldn’t… We shouldn’t. Why are you acting like this? Telling me these things about Monica? Shouldn’t you be telling me how much you love her? How excited you are to be marrying her? You don’t sound exactly thrilled, you know.”

  “Maybe that’s because I’m not sure how I feel,” he confessed. Guilt-ridden for wanting to touch her but unable to stop himself, he reached toward her.

  “Don’t tell me that. You have no idea what I’ve gone through…” She pushed his hand away and hurried back toward the front of the building. “This isn’t fair. You can’t do this to me. I have to think of Monica. I’ve got to go. Please don’t try to stop me.”

  He didn’t.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered into the cool night, to both Monica for breaking her trust and to Jane. He couldn’t seem to help himself. For some reason, he felt like he’d just met the woman he’d fallen in love with. But how could that be? Could he love a woman he didn’t know? There had to be a logical explanation.

  Chapter Twelve

  That moment in the woods tormented Jane both day and night. The entire weekend she thought about it while awake, dreamed about it while asleep. At work on Monday she did her best to act like normal around Monica but it was tough. She’d crossed the line. Regardless of how close she’d been to Jason when she was living Monica’s life, this was different. Now she was Jane.

  There was no excuse. Jane had no right to be thinking those kinds of thoughts about Jason.

  He had no right to be tempting her either.

  One thing was certain—either he was a low-life, cheating bastard or she’d been terribly wrong about one small assumption—he would fall in love with the woman he saw with his eyes.

  Which one was it?

  Okay, she knew the answer but she didn’t want to accept it. Never had she stolen a friend’s boyfriend. She feared her record was about to be dashed.

  That fear amplified when later that afternoon, Monica cornered her in the break room as she was buying a soda from the vending machine. Heart racing, hands shaking, she prepared for the worst—a stream of angry expletives about broken engagements and stolen fiancés.

  “How was The Hawthorne?” Monica asked. “Was it as gorgeous as I thought?”

  That wasn’t the question Jane had expected. Happy to respond, she said, “If you thought it was phenomenal, then yes. But it was also mega-expensive.”

  “Yeah,” Monica said on a sigh. “Jason told me.”

  “I…hadn’t expected Jason to be there.”

  “He insisted. I didn’t think he’d care where we held the wedding but as it turns out he’s quite the romantic. Wants to pick the location. Isn’t that sweet?” Monica dropped four quarters into the vending machine and punched the button, selecting a bottle of water. The bottle dropped into the chute at the bottom.

  Sweet or underhanded, depending upon his motivation. “Yeah.”

  Stooping slightly, Monica retrieved her purchase and twisted the top off. “But that doesn’t get you off the hook. I want you to check out every place on my list.” She pointed at Jane with her opened bottle.

  “Why not go yourself?”

  Monica took a drink then twisted the cap back on and answered, “Jason insisted I let him choose. He wants it to be a surprise.”

  Oh no. I’m not liking the sound of this. I need to find a way out. “Then why have me tag along? Won’t he feel like you don’t trust him? Or worse, I’ll tell you?”
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  “Nope. It was his suggestion. He thought you could give a woman’s point of view.”

  Shit!

  “Anyway, here’s the place he’s visiting tonight. Six o’clock. That won’t be a problem, will it? I realize it’s short notice, but since it’s a Monday night I figured it would be okay.”

  Jane glanced down at the card. This place was local. She couldn’t use driving distance as an excuse. And she knew Monica had firsthand knowledge of her weekly routine. She was trapped.

  Then again, maybe it was better this way. Tonight could be an opportunity instead of a liability. She could set Jason straight right now, before things got out of hand. Friday, she’d been caught off guard, unprepared. But tonight, she’d be ready. She’d let him know what a mistake he was making by pursuing her, or flirting with her, or whatever he was doing. Monica was a prize and the wedding must go on. At least if she accomplished that much she would be miserable but content knowing she did the right thing, and life would go on.

  “Okay. I’ll go.” Jane took the card, finished her soda and returned to her desk. She spent the afternoon rehearsing the speech she’d give to Jason.

  By quitting time, she had worked herself up into a nervous frenzy. Even though she’d gone over it dozens of times, she rehearsed her speech aloud as she drove the short distance to the banquet hall. She was a sweaty, anxious mess by the time she pulled into the parking lot. Six o’clock on the dot.

  She took a look in her vanity mirror on the back of her sun visor. A mess. That was probably for the better. Then she flipped up the visor and reached for the door handle.

  Before she’d pulled on the latch, the door swung open. Jason stood outside smiling.

  “You look beautiful,” he said, holding the door for her.

  Intending to deliver her speech, she opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Well, nothing except for some strangled-sounding gurgle.

  He chuckled. The sound of his laughter floated around her head and bubbled in her tummy, setting the butterflies in there all aflurry. “I’ll take that as a thank you.” He reached down with his free hand and captured one of hers, giving it a soft tug to urge her to her feet. “There’s been a change of plans.”

  “Oh?” She didn’t like the sound of that.

  “We’re going to dinner. The manager had a small emergency to contend with and can’t meet with us until seven-thirty. You don’t mind eating dinner with me, do you?”

  “Well, actually…” She tried to lower herself back into the car seat but he kept pulling. It was no use. She wasn’t going to win this battle. The way she saw it she had two choices—either remain standing or have her shoulder dislocated.

  “I won’t take no for an answer,” he said, reinforcing what she already knew.

  “I noticed that about you.” She wriggled her fingers, trying to free her hand.

  “We have some things we need to talk about. Don’t you agree?”

  “True.”

  “Good.” He pushed the car door closed behind her. “At least we agree on that much.”

  “And that may be all we ever agree on.”

  He grinned and she tried hard not to notice how cute he was when he smiled like that. She also tried extra hard to ignore the glimmer of attraction she saw in his eyes. That was tough.

  Releasing her hand at last, he motioned toward the restaurant next door to the banquet hall. “Hope you like steak.”

  “Love it, but—” She reached for the car door handle again.

  Obviously anticipating her move, he used his bulk to block her from opening the door. He crossed his thick arms over his chest. “How did I know you’d say that? Let me guess, you like Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy too.”

  Uh-oh! He was putting two and two together. “Well, it’s not my favorite…”

  “Liar. I’ve figured it out, you know.”

  Her face flamed. “Figured out what? My favorite ice cream flavor?”

  “No, more than that,” he said, shaking his head. He took a single step toward her and feeling trapped, even though she was standing in the middle of an empty parking lot, she back-stepped away. “I figured out what you and Monica did.”

  “Oh? What we did? We didn’t do… I mean, I honestly wouldn’t know…” She took a few more steps backward until something big and hard stopped her from going any further.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t stop moving forward. Well, he did, but not until he was only a couple of inches from her. Heck, if she sucked in a deep breath, her boobs would probably touch his lower chest. Considering their size—even with the Wonderbra—that was saying something.

  “All weekend long it was driving me nuts,” he said. “I felt like I knew you, like I’d spent time with you, not just met you on the street or spoke to you in passing. But it was impossible.”

  “Probably that déjà vu thingy. I get that sometimes.” Her hands behind her back, she explored the surface of whatever vehicle she’d backed herself into.

  “I couldn’t sleep. I had to figure it out,” he continued.

  She pretended to listen while planning her next move. If she could shuffle up around one end of the car, she could make a quick getaway. How lame! To be even considering running away. Spineless coward! What happened to your plan to set him straight?

  “And then it came to me when I was watching an old movie on HBO,” he continued.

  “A movie?”

  “How’d you do it? Wireless receiver?” He leaned forward, trapping her shoulders between his outstretched arms as he pressed his palms against the car’s roof.

  The second he made contact with the car, a loud shriek sounded in her ear, making her leap forward.

  That was not the best direction to move. Her body smashed up against his, she raised her hands to cup them over her ears. That did little to shelter her eardrums from the obnoxious bellow of the car’s alarm. Her nose pressed into his chest, and the scent of Jason and tangy cologne filled her nostrils. “Alarm!” she shouted.

  Without speaking a word, he crammed one hand in his pants pocket and pulled out a keypad. He punched a button and the noise ceased.

  But it was too late for her to make a safe getaway. Before she had her senses back, he wrapped both arms around her waist and held her tight against him. She felt every point where her body made contact with his. And there were many! Here and there, little blazes erupted, sending sparks of arousal through her bloodstream. She felt a trickle of perspiration run down her temple. She needed to lighten the mood. Pronto! Or she was going to melt.

  “I know it was you,” he said, capturing her chin and holding it so she couldn’t look away. His gaze drilled hers. It was intense, demanding, troubled. “You coached her, told her what to say that night at my house. And at the nightclub too.”

  “How would I do that? What movie are we talking about anyway?” she asked, trying like heck to look casual.

  “You know which one. The chick flick about cats and dogs.” His fingertip traced the line of her jaw. The innocent touch sent more sparks flying through her system. Meltdown was now imminent if something wasn’t done immediately!

  She shrugged her shoulders and tried to pull out of his embrace. With one hand she caught the index finger that had made its way to the base of her throat and pushed it away. “You’ve got me there. I’m totally lost.”

  “Something about truth and cats and dogs…has that tall blonde, Uma Thurman, and the other one, Janeane somebody in it.” Seemingly undaunted, he took that naughty finger and plunked it right in the center of her chest, where it traced the little bow in the center of her bra. It seemed a few buttons of her shirt had sprung open. “You know, where the plain-looking one is too scared to talk to the guy so she lets him think the good-looking one is her.”

  Almost mindless with need, thanks to his roaming hand and the heat in his gaze, Jane tried to ease the tension by cracking a joke. Humor always helped her get through tough times. And this was one of the toughest she’d ever had to endure. “I’m n
ot following you. Hey, are you trying to say I’m the Janeane somebody? You can’t even remember her name. It’s no wonder women like me who don’t have legs up to their armpits feel like we don’t stand a chance with men.” She knocked his hand away again. “Would you stop doing that? This Janeane somebody doesn’t care to be manhandled in public.”

  “Please. Quit joking around and tell me the truth. I need to know. I deserve to know,” he pleaded as his gaze fixed on her eyes. “Which woman have I fallen in love with? Monica Starke or Jane Brown?”

  “That’s a no-brainer. You’re in love with Uma.”

  “Damn it, Jane. Don’t you understand? I have to know.” His fingers dug into her shoulders as he gripped them tightly. His brows drew together and dipped down low over his expressive eyes, eyes that spoke of passion and confusion, wanting and fear. “I’m about to marry one of them. I can’t marry the wrong woman.”

  Marry? He would marry me? I would be Mrs. Foxx? All the clever comebacks that had been bouncing around in her head vaporized, disappearing like fog on a sunny morning. Speechless, she dropped her head, allowing her forehead to rest against his chest.

  What had she done? She’d messed up not one, but two lives! Jason was confused—not that she could blame him. He was an innocent party in this.

  Monica would be devastated.

  She was quite certain that whoever had made the whole switch thing possible had not intended for things to end like this, no matter how great it seemed to be for Jane!

  “Honestly, Jason. I don’t know what you mean. You love Monica. I’m certain of it.”

  “At least one of us is.”

  “It’s probably just pre-wedding jitters. All men have those. Now, please,” she said, pushing against his chest. “Let me go before someone sees something and word gets back to Monica. She’s my friend and your fiancée. I can’t do this to her. She’s so happy about your proposal.”

  “But she’s not acting—”

  “She has a strange way of showing people how she feels sometime. You should know that by now.” Jane finally extricated herself from his embrace and half-ran back to her car. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for whatever change you’ve seen the past couple of days. Take my word for it, she’s thrilled.”