by Avery Flynn
As if she could read his thoughts, she stopped by the baggage carousel and looked over her shoulder, her lips curled in a scowl that didn’t do a damn thing for him. Really.
Then why do you keep thinking about that kiss?
It was an accident. A onetime fluke. A what-the-fuck-is-the-universe’s-problem-with-Will-anyhow fuckup. It wasn’t like he’d gone in there expecting to kiss his nemesis. Hell, he’d gone in that coat closet to get away from all the forced cheer of everyone glad-handing for donations. All he’d wanted was five minutes of peace and quiet.
Instead he’d ended up with Hadley kissing him as if he were the man she’d been dreaming about for her whole life.
Then it got worse.
Hadley had looked at him and said one word. “Web.”
Yeah. That had been a shot straight to the balls.
“Slow down, darling,” Will said when he finally caught up with Hadley near the edge of the crowd encircling the baggage carousel. “You don’t even know what my suitcase looks like.”
“I’m assuming as black as your soul.” She stopped next to a couple holding hands and glared at him. “And what’s with the ‘darling’ and the outfit? Are you making fun of people who live out here?”
He glanced down at his clothes. Jeans. Boots. Hat. He’d turned down the pearl-button Western shirt the on-call stylist at Dylan’s Department Store had offered. “Just trying to fit in.”
“Will Holt,” she said, crossing her arms and jutting out a hip. “You stand out everywhere you go, and you know it.”
He couldn’t argue. That was the curse of being one of the Holt twins. Not only were he and Web decent-looking and rich, their family had been at the top of the Harbor City society food chain since the Gilded Age. That meant his entire life since the time his and Web’s birth announcement had been splashed across a double-page, full-color spread in Harbor and Cove magazine had been lived out under a microscope. Add in the tragic backstory of their parents dying young, boarding school after boarding school, and a grandmother who had barely tolerated them before she died and left them a fortune, and it was a gossip’s dream.
He fucking hated it.
Of course, he wasn’t about to tell Hadley that. A man didn’t admit weakness to a gold digger he was planning on taking down before she could hurt his brother.
“Are you flirting with me, Hadley Donavan?” He took a step closer, using his nearness to distract her enough that she wouldn’t notice he was changing the subject.
“Why, because everyone does?” She scoffed before biting her lip and looking back up at him, concern filling her eyes. “How is Web really?”
The quick conversation switch made sense. Of course she’d want to pretend to care about how his brother was doing. “He’ll be fine. The doctor said he just needed some rest.”
She took a half step back to allow plenty of room for the woman in the wheelchair to pass by. “Is it the flu?”
“Sorta.” Will looked over at the couple holding hands as nonchalantly as possible.
“What’s that mean? Did you poison him?” she asked, her voice as sugary as her words were tart.
“Not on purpose.” He grimaced at her. “The chicken didn’t make me sick.” He left out the fact that he’d only had a few bites because he’d been too fixated on trying to figure out what to do about her.
The light blinked on top of the baggage carousel, announcing the bags were on their way, and saved him from more questions. He spotted his hard-shell suitcase—yes, it was black—and managed to squeeze through the crowd standing elbow to elbow to grab it. When he turned around, he caught Hadley averting her focus from ass level up to his face. Her jaw was clenched but her cheeks were pink.
Well, wasn’t that fascinating.
“Were you checking out my butt?” he asked, strutting over with his suitcase, ready to pounce on the opportunity to needle her.
Her brown-eyed gaze dipped down and to the left. “No.”
“Are you sure?” He stopped in front of her, just on the edge of that invisible do-not-cross edge of her personal space. “It seems like you were, and you’re definitely turning red.”
“It’s warm in here.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I don’t blush.”
“Ever?” The question was out before he could stop himself. It wasn’t his business. He wasn’t here to find out all about the secret life of one Hadley Donavan.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Interesting.” But it wasn’t. Who cared if someone blushed a lot or a little or never? He was a guy. He didn’t give two shits about that. Still, the fact that she was getting worked up brought out the part of him that just wanted to meet the challenge in her eye. “I knew a woman once who would turn tomato red right before she came. It happened every time, no matter the position or…” He paused, letting her hang for a second as she obviously fought between telling him to fuck off and wanting to know what he’d say next. “The activity. We tested it out one long weekend. We started off with—”
“Oh my God, enough.” She pressed her palm to his chest, her eyes going wide at the physical contact before she jerked her hand away and rubbed her fingers together, as if she’d felt the same zing he had. “I don’t want to hear about how you have sex with other women.”
“Why?” He glanced down at her lips, so pink and soft and glossy, fisting his hands to keep from reaching out for her. “Do you only want to consider me having sex with you?” Watching as she snagged her bottom lip between her teeth, her gaze going hazy, it took a lot to remember that kissing Hadley—again—was off-limits. “It’s totally normal and healthy to consider what people are like in other, more naked situations.”
There was a red splotch at the base of her throat to match the pink in her cheeks now, but her nipples were hard, too, two twin peaks pressing against the thin cotton of her T-shirt. At least he wasn’t the only one affected.
She stared up at him, the brown of her eyes darkening to almost black. “I might just have to leave you on the side of the road once we’re a few hours into the drive.”
“Very funny,” he said, amused by her attempt to scare him. “Like the drive is going to be hours.”
For the first time since he’d walked out of the passengers-only area, Hadley smiled. “Web didn’t tell you?”
His stomach sank, and that old familiar gurgle in his gut started. “Didn’t tell me what?”
Her smile got even bigger, transforming her entire face and making her eyes sparkle with undeniable glee. “We’re going to be at my family’s ranch all week.”
“Yeah, I knew that.” Cows. Grassland. Saddle sores and barn stink.
“It’s a five-hour drive from the airport.”
Each word came out slowly, like a tiny little bomb that hit harder than she could have realized. Since childhood, he’d been able to make it two hours tops before the car got to him and he puked his guts up. After five hours? His stomach was already rebelling at the hell that was before him.
Web had set him up, no doubt as an oversize punishment for Will giving him a slight case of food poisoning. So much for brotherly love.
“You’re kidding,” he finally managed to get out.
“Not even close.” She giggled, and the sound scared him more than anything else. “Get ready, city boy—you’re about to take a long drive in the country.”
This was not going to end well.
Chapter Five
The look on Will’s face when she’d told him how long the drive was going to be had been priceless. Seriously. Not even he could have afforded it. Hadley was going to treasure that oh-shit-what-have-I-done expression for the rest of her life.
Served the big jerk right, even if after an hour on the highway, he’d gone quiet and— She glanced over, and her stomach dropped. He had a distinctive green sheen to his face, his jaw had gone from square to
rigid, and he kept flexing his fingers but otherwise remained perfectly still.
Oh shit.
“Are you okay?” she asked, breathing a sigh of relief when she spotted the gas station ahead sign, regret snipping at her for not noticing earlier that he was obviously in real misery, not the spoiled and bored kind.
“Perfect.” He gave her the smallest nod possible, maintaining a stick-straight posture. “As always.”
Lord have mercy. What, was he too rich and privileged to get car sick? Of course he would think so. The sun rose and set on his command.
“Are you ever not full of shit?” And to think she’d felt bad for him for a whole half a second before he went all Will Holt on her.
He turned in his seat, winced, and then let out a shaky breath. “Like you’re one to talk.”
She side-eyed him. “What does that mean?”
“We both know why you are so-called friends with Web.”
“Because we actually are?” They had been pretty much since they met and bonded over their mutual hatred of candy corn and love of office supply stores.
“Yeah.” Will let out a weak chuckle. “As long as he has all that money in the bank, you’re friends.”
He couldn’t be serious. She glanced over from the long, straight highway that went on forever and glared at him. He didn’t flinch. That’s when realization struck. That’s why he hated her? He thought she was after Web for his money? Disbelief and righteous indignation whipped through her, making her whole body sizzle. What a total and complete jerk.
“Oh no,” she said, sarcasm thick in her tone as she turned her attention back to the road. “You caught me. I’m really just softening him up so he’ll fall in love with me and then bam, I’ll steal his money and have an affair with the pool boy and the upstairs maid.” She shook her fist in mock frustration. “And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn’t for you being an interfering jerk who assumes he knows everything.” She stopped shaking her fist and flipped him off. “Breaking news, you don’t.”
He snorted. “Don’t bother denying it. I know all about how you’re always talking to Web about moving the Holt Foundation money over to your client list. I know about the meals and cab rides where he picks up the check. I know about all the planning-for-tomorrow IG posts with photos of homes that only someone in our income bracket could afford. You’re good, I’ll give you that—it’s never too over-the-top. It’s as subtle as the way you always point out that the expensive outfits in the storefronts near the rugby field are gorgeous but that you’ll never be able to afford them without winning the lottery—or marrying a millionaire. I doubt Web has even noticed the way you’re working the long con and planting these little ideas. Plus, if you can’t get your money by marrying into it, you can use Web’s money to climb the corporate ladder. I suppose you look at him and see the perfect mark.”
What. The. Ever-loving. Hell.
“Are you deranged? I talk to Web about working with the Holt Foundation because I’m damn good at my job. As far as the rest of that bullshit goes, I’m not even going to justify that kind of ridiculousness with a response, beyond that as far as climbing the ladder, I’d need a job for that. Remember, you kicked the good ol’ corporate ladder out from underneath me in that coat closet. Or wait! I suppose what happened at the fundraiser was part of my master plan?” If it were, she truly sucked at being a gold digger. Almost banging her target’s brother would be a seriously shitty ploy.
“How can I know what goes on in your mind?” Will shrugged. “Maybe you’ve decided to switch targets.”
“You seem to think you know a lot about my motives.” Of course he did. He’d always been like this with her—a judgmental asshat. She squeezed the steering wheel tighter as she punched back the urge to holler in frustration. “Knowing me, I probably finagled it so that the meanest woman on the charity circuit walked in on us at the very worst moment.”
She blushed at the memory of her hands reaching for his zipper. His hands going up underneath the hem of her dress. Everything hot and sudden and beyond want into gotta-have-you-or-I’ll-explode territory. Hot annoyance and slick desire mixed together in an instant, making it hard to figure out if she should pull over the car to yell at him or finish what they started in that closet.
“Maybe you were hedging your bets,” he said, no longer even looking her way but instead at the cornfields as they sped past.
“More like the three sips of champagne I’d had on an empty stomach—unless you counted a couple of canapés—had affected my usually very good judgment.” Her cheeks burned at the memory of the door opening, light flooding in, and the cruel disdain on Mia Cardin’s face. “Then, like a virgin in a slasher movie, I paid for my momentary lapse in judgment when we walked out with everyone watching, thanks to an early alert from Mia. Amazing forethought on my part to ensure you were still tucking in your shirt at that moment so no one would be left doubting what had happened in the coat closet and, thus, furthering my evil plan.”
“I tried to fix that,” he said, almost sounding like he meant it.
“Is that what you call it?” She let out a harsh chuckle to cover the hurt that cracked like a whip against her skin. “You told my boss that the whole situation was being blown out of proportion. Any fool, and I quote, would know that a guy like you with your social status would never actually be with some poor chick who’d moved to Harbor City with everything she owned packed into three suitcases. Then you laughed.” The memory of that humiliation burned like lava through her veins. “And everyone else laughed.”
“That’s not exactly what I said.”
“Close enough.”
She swerved with a hard jerk of the steering wheel to avoid a pothole, and Will let out something that sounded like a mix between a miserable groan and a curse before clenching his jaw tight enough that she was surprised it wasn’t followed by a tooth cracking. Despite knowing that he was the last person in the world who deserved any sympathy, it slid in between the cracks of her protective shielding anyway.
“Okay, cut the crap,” she said. “You’re carsick, aren’t you?”
“As long as I keep my eyes on the horizon, I’ll be fine,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Okay. Whatever.” If that’s how he wanted to handle motion sickness, he could. See if she cared.
That, of course, lasted all of about thirty seconds.
Way to go, Hadley. Do you really hate him enough to want to see him puke his guts up in the rental?
Because she was still pissed enough that she was doing what her mom called her “huffy breathing,” she had to stop to consider it as they barreled down the highway. After all, he was the reason for one of the more humiliating experiences of her life, and now she knew he thought she was friends with Web only for his money. Still, her mom had raised her better than to leave a person—even a total asshole—to suffer, so she started scanning the road up ahead for signs advertising a decent place to stop. Well, that and the fact that she didn’t feel like driving for three more hours in a car that smelled like upchuck.
“Sorry,” she said, not even close to meaning it. “I had no idea you got car sick.”
He closed his eyes tight. “Web did.”
“Oh!” She gasped. “He set you up.”
Her lips twitched, and she bit the inside of her cheek. She wouldn’t giggle. She wouldn’t chuckle or guffaw or snicker. She’d been raised better than to laugh at people who were obviously in misery. Clamping her jaw shut tight, she kept her eyes on the road and told herself to stuff a sock in it.
“Go ahead and laugh,” Will said. “I won’t hold it against you. Your perfect family probably never pulls this crap on one another.”
She snorted and took the next exit, heading straight toward the last big gas station before the miles grew longer between towns and then the towns totally disappeared. “One time my brother K
nox replaced my shampoo with Nair, not realizing that it was impossible to miss the very distinctive scent of the hair remover.”
“What did you do?” he asked.
The tension in the car lessened at his question, eased by the common ground of sibling pranks, and the tightness in her shoulders gave a bit. “Whatever makes you think I’d take my revenge?”
That got a chuckle out of him, if a weak one. “I’ve met you.”
“I Saran Wrapped the opening of his bedroom door and then woke him up in the middle of the night screaming there was a fire. He ran smack into it, and I got the entire thing on my phone.”
“Nice one,” he said.
She pulled into a parking spot next to the convenience store / gas station / restaurant / trucker shower stop hybrid. “Hold on. I’ll be right back. Don’t puke in the rental—that smell will only make the motion sickness worse.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thank you very much for that mental image.”
“Sorry,” she said as she lowered the windows before getting out of the SUV and hurrying inside.
It took only a few minutes to buy a couple of cans of ginger ale and a snack-size box of saltines as well as some over-the-counter Dramamine, but by the time she got back out, Will was standing outside the car, leaning against it with his boot heel on the tire and the brim of his black cowboy hat dipped low. Replace the highway in the background with grassland and it would look like the start of a cheesy cowboy movie. All he needed was the single strand of straw hanging from the corner of his mouth.
It wasn’t fair that he could still manage to look so hot even while looking like a basic-cable-cowboy rip-off. That he did and she still noticed just revved her up in the way being around him always did.
It made no sense.
He looked exactly like her best friend—duh, they were twins—but she had never been tempted to kiss Web. Just the thought of it made her make the “ew” face.
But with Will? It was always half hate and half lust swirling inside her at even the mention of his name, which pissed her off to no end. Why didn’t being around Web make her body react like that? It would make her life so much easier. The whole situation just drove her up a wall.