by Ellie Hall
“I don’t need you to look out for me,” she said, her eyes flashing with anger. “You’re not my brother.”
Yeah, Beckett’s feelings for Camdyn were anything but brotherly. “You’re absolutely right,” he said in a low voice. “I am definitely not your brother.”
3
Ha! He was totally acting like her annoying older brother Zane. Camdyn lifted her chin defiantly and met Beckett’s smoldering gaze. Instantly, sizzling heat charged the air between them, making Camdyn’s thoughts incinerate like she’d just stepped into a flash fire. Because Beckett Young was smoldering. At her.
“What did you just say?” she asked, her voice coming out all breathy.
Her stomach swooped as a wicked grin stole across his handsome face. “I’m not your brother.”
Oh. My. Goodness. Was Beckett Young flirting with her? Wishing like heck she could call Nikki to talk to her, Camdyn eyed Beckett’s pocket again. She’d seriously considered jumping him and taking her phone back. But that option was totally off the table now that they’d established he was not her brother.
“Fine, you can look at my phone,” she said, knowing there was no way she was going to get her cell back without a fight. “But you can’t laugh.”
“I promise I won’t laugh.”
Beckett laughed. Hysterically. They were back inside her apartment, sitting across from each other at the small kitchen table. Before letting him look, Camdyn had explained the reason behind her actions, forgoing all the embarrassing stuff like her alleged lack of libido and focusing on her writer’s block.
“Hey, you said you wouldn’t laugh,” she said, repressing her own giggle. Beckett was reading testimonials from the romance therapists’ satisfied customers.
“Sorry,” he said with a totally unrepentant grin. “Okay, I’m done laughing.”
“Great, now may I have my phone back?” she asked, holding her hand out with the palm up.
“Sure.” Looking at her with eyes the color of melted milk chocolate, he placed the device in the center of her palm. This shouldn’t be making her all hot and bothered. He was simply returning her phone. Except, the way his fingers slowly slid across her skin made it feel like he’d backed her up against the wall and was kissing her thoroughly.
Letting out a shaky breath, Camdyn pulled the phone to her. She was tempted to call David and tell him that he was so very wrong because her libido was alive and well, thank you very much.
She resisted the urge just like she needed to resist Beckett’s charms. It didn’t matter that he’d told her he wasn’t dating anyone right now. It didn’t matter that he was prettier than the actual Theo James. Camdyn was merely a distraction, and she couldn’t take him seriously. Besides, he knew how Nikki felt about him dating her friends.
“So, how much is Wanda charging you again?” Beckett asked, a hint of laughter crinkling the skin around his eyes.
“More than my last paycheck.” Camdyn would have to pick up extra hours at the library until she got her next advance. If she got her next advance.
She was tired of talking about her failures. It was time to turn the tables and find out why Beckett was here and not in South Carolina with his family.
“I’m still not sure why you’re here and not in Hilton Head?” she asked, unable to look him directly in the eyes. He was so hot it was like looking at the sun, turning her core into liquid heat.
Instead of answering her question, Beckett leaned forward and waited until she made eye contact with him. “I have a proposition for you.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
Beckett laughed. “Not that kind of proposition.”
Camdyn narrowed her eyes. “I think it’s only fair that you answer my question first before you propo…” She paused, searching for a synonym.
“Propose?” Beckett asked with that sexy smirk of his.
Heat bloomed on Camdyn’s cheeks. If he had any idea how many daydreams she’d had about Beckett Young proposing to her, he wouldn’t look so smug. “Could you just answer the question?”
“I have to attend this wedding in Savannah and had to stop by and pick up my suit.” Beckett leaned back in his chair. “Before you ask, Nikki accidentally took my suit home with her instead of Jeff’s after my great aunt’s funeral a couple of months ago.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I haven’t had time to get a new one and it’s the only suit that fits.”
Since Beckett didn’t look like he’d put on any weight, Camdyn’s eyes dropped to the obvious reason he’d outgrown his other suits. Her mouth watered as her eyes traced over his upper body, taking special notice of the well-defined biceps straining against the short sleeves of his fitted black tee. Camdyn’s neurons were going haywire, urging her to reach across the table to touch the muscles hidden beneath his shirt. She told herself it would be for research since the creative part of her brain was conjuring up a super-hot boyfriend for Katya. Surprisingly, he looked an awful lot like Beckett.
“As I was saying,” Beckett said, ending her vivid fantasy like someone had pulled the plug on the movie projector right when the guy was about to kiss the girl.
“Yes,” she said, snapping her eyes to Beckett’s face and hoping he hadn’t noticed she was checking him out. She also hoped she wasn’t drooling.
“I need a date for the wedding.”
“And you want me to help you find one?” Hadn’t he heard of dating apps? Or maybe Wanda could help him since she had so many satisfied customers.
“No.” A crooked smile tipped one side of his mouth. “I want you to be my date.”
“You want me?” she asked, still not sure if she heard him correctly. “I mean, I know you don’t want me—want me.” Out of nowhere, a nervous giggle bubbled out of her mouth. “Surely you don’t want me like…you know.” Stop talking. Just stop talking. But did she listen? No. Instead, Camdyn started using hand gestures, pointing at herself like she was a game show model, showing the customer what he could win if he guessed the right answer. “You want me? Camdyn Jane Taylor to be your wedding date?”
Yes, she just told him her middle name. Now would be a good time for the floor to open wide and swallow her in one big gulp.
Beckett’s lips twitched, but he didn’t laugh at her. Not out loud, anyway. His eyes, however, were brimming with mirth. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
Beckett squinted and tipped his head to the side slightly like he was trying to look for any flaws he may have missed. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not your type.”
Heat flickered behind his eyes as he made a slow perusal over her. “Oh?” he questioned with one raised eyebrow. “And what is my type?”
“Not someone like me.”
A slight frown wrinkled his forehead. “I don’t know what your idiot boyfriend made you believe, but—”
The annoying sound of her ringtone interrupted Beckett. Believe what? She fumbled with her phone, desperate to silence it so Beckett could finish that sentence. With her usual grace, the phone skidded across the surface of the table and spun around a few times like she was playing spin the bottle before coming to a rest in front of Beckett.
Wanda from I Put a Spell on You Romance Therapy was displayed on her screen like the jumbotron on Time Square. Beckett’s jaw tightened when he glanced at the device and then back up at Camdyn. She knew that look. It was the same one he’d given her when he’d highjacked her phone outside. As if they were in a heated game of table hockey, she and Beckett both swiped at her phone.
“Hey,” she said when Beckett not only picked up her phone but also sent the call straight to voicemail. “I need to talk to her.” Maybe Wanda had an opening sooner than next week.
“Camdyn,” he said, palming the cell phone and taking it hostage for the second time today, “you do not need Wanda the Romance Therapist.”
“Yes, I do,” she said, sorely tempted to sprawl across the small kitchen table and wrestle the phone from his hand. “Katya needs a bo
yfriend, and I’m going to give her one.”
“Right, but you don’t need Wanda,” he said as a sinful smile parted his lips. “Not when you have me.”
4
Beckett’s offer hung in the air, dangling in front of Camdyn like a juicy, ripe peach from his granddaddy’s orchard. He could tell she wanted to pluck it off the tree and take a big bite but was afraid there was a catch. There wasn’t a catch. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.
Camdyn’s tongue darted out, wetting her bottom lip. Beckett’s blood heated as he followed the movement. She was killing him. Maybe he should just give her the phone, grab his suit and head to the wedding solo.
He didn’t really need a date. Though, it would be nice since he’d probably spend more time fighting off unwanted advances the entire two-day weekend from Paisley Jessup, the boss’s unmarried daughter, than mingling with potential clients. Randall Jessup, one of the owners of the marketing firm Beckett worked for, believed in mixing business with pleasure. Many of the wedding guests were potential clients, and Beckett wanted to network instead of playing the typical cat and mouse games that were notoriously going on behind the scenes at most of the weddings he’d ever attended.
Originally, he’d planned on bringing Malorie as his date, but they’d parted ways a few months earlier when she’d wanted something more serious than Beckett was ready to give. However, Beckett hadn’t told anyone at the office that he’d ended things with Malorie. He knew he was fair game if Paisley ever found out he was single.
Although, now that he thought about it, Paisley had been asking a lot of questions lately about Malorie, including if she was planning to be his plus one. Paisley worked for her daddy, answering phones, making copies and annoying Beckett whenever she got the chance. Beckett wasn’t proud but he’d lied and said Malorie was coming with him. He’d planned on modifying the white lie when he showed up dateless, telling everyone that Malorie couldn’t make it due to an unexpected emergency. So maybe bringing Camdyn as his date wasn’t such a stupid idea after all.
“What exactly are you saying?” Camdyn asked, twirling her finger through a strand of her blonde hair. She looked sweet and vulnerable and so incredibly sexy it was hard not to throw the table to the side and pull her onto his lap so he could get a taste of her full lips.
“I need a date for the wedding and you need tips on romance.” Since Camdyn looked intrigued, Beckett figured it was safe to return her phone and finish his pitch. “You don’t have to spend a dime,” he said, sliding her phone across the table. “I’ll even pay you for your services.”
Beckett probably could’ve worded that differently. Camdyn stopped twirling her hair and her mouth dropped open as color bloomed on her cheeks. “What. Did. You. Just. Say?”
Smothering another laugh, he shook his head. “That came out wrong. I only meant you that you don’t have to worry about any expenses.” Beckett felt like the creepy guy trying to lure an unsuspecting girl into his lair. “Come on. You’ll have an all-expense paid weekend in Savannah at an exclusive house on Wilmington Island.”
She studied him for several seconds and he could tell she wanted to say yes. “Just so we’re clear, this will not be a remake of Pretty Woman.” Her blue eyes flew open. “Not that I’m saying I’m pretty or, you know, a professional—.”
“Hooker?”
She shot him a disgruntled look. “I was going to say escort.”
Trying not to laugh, he gently cleared his throat. “I’ll make sure we’re in separate rooms.” Then he remembered what else she’d said. “And who said you aren’t pretty?”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Let’s just say David made several remarks that I could try a little harder.”
Beckett had a few choice names he wanted to call David but stuck with the most obvious and least offensive for a lady’s ears. “He’s an idiot.”
“Yeah, he kind of is.” The guarded look in Camdyn’s blue eyes made him wish he could hunt this guy down and plant a fist in his face. “But I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to go with you,” she said, not quite looking him in the eye.
She’d joked that she wasn’t a call girl, but maybe she was really worried that he would try something on her. He was attracted to Camdyn but that didn’t mean he’d force himself on her. Besides, Beckett wasn’t looking to fall in love and settle down like his little sister. Eventually, he wanted to find the right girl, marry her and have a few kids, but, like Michael Bublé’s song, he just hadn’t met her yet.
“You’ll be doing me a favor,” he said, giving her a brief rundown on wanting to avoid Paisley Jessup without offending his boss. “I’m not a romance therapist, but I do know how to be romantic. We can help each other out. No strings attached.”
One of her perfectly sculpted brows arched. “No strings attached?”
“Yeah, I know it will be hard, but you can’t fall in love with me,” he said, giving her a wink to let her know he was kidding around.
A look he couldn’t decipher traveled across her face before she gave him a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “That will be number one on our list of rules.”
“Rules?” he asked, watching her as she opened her purse and pulled out a pen and a girly looking notebook with a flower on it.
“Yes. I’m a rule follower so we need to set some boundaries.” She found a blank page and wrote down the word RULES in all caps. “First, no falling in love,” she said, keeping her head bent while she wrote it down. “Second, don’t expect a booty call.”
Beckett snorted a laugh until her chin shot up and she lasered him with a fiery look. She was totally serious. “Got it. No booty call.”
While she penned the second rule as No BC, Beckett decided he better throw in a few stipulations too. “But you have to act like you’re into me. Paisley will be on to us if we don’t make it believable.”
Glancing up, she tapped the tip of her pen to her lips. “How believable are we talkin’?”
“Nothing that will break rule number two,” he said, trying to keep a straight face.
“So, holding hands?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay.” She added that to her list before looking at him again. “What about…” Her words trailed off as her eyes flickered to his mouth and then bounced back up. “…kissing?”
“Definitely.” He gave her a roguish grin. “I’m an affectionate guy so the kissing needs to be believable too.”
“Okay, but during this believable kissing, there will be no wandering hands.”
“Does that rule apply to you too?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m the rule follower, remember?”
Did that mean she thought he wasn’t? Also, it should be noted that she didn’t actually answer him.
“Check,” Beckett said. “We keep our hands to ourselves.” He waited for her to write it down. “Anything else?”
“I don’t cook.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
Camdyn chewed on her lower lip, contemplating him with eyes the color of a summer sky. She was waffling, and Beckett wasn’t sure if he should try to sell it more or get up and walk away while he still could.
“Okay,” she said in that sexy, raspy voice of hers. “I’m in.”
Beckett’s heart knocked against his chest wall when she held out her hand for him to shake. “Great,” he said, hoping his hands weren’t as sweaty as they felt when he placed his palm against hers. Hot sparks shot out from the tips of his fingers as they curled around her small hand.
Beckett had always walked on the right side of the law so he shouldn’t be worried about breaking any of Camdyn’s rules. So why did he feel like he just willingly walked into a snare, knowing he would probably get caught?
5
During the two and half hour ride to Savannah, Camdyn realized she’d failed to identify a couple of vital rules. First, Beckett should not be allowed to wear the tantalizing masculine scent permeating the interior of
his car. It wasn’t overbearing, just a subtle but constant reminder to every womanly cell in her body that he was one hot specimen of a man.
Second, he should never be allowed to go shirtless. A rule she hadn’t considered essential until she caught a glimpse of his sculpted abs when he’d changed out of his tee into a black sport’s shirt at the last stop for gas. They were nearing their destination and wouldn’t have time to change for the dinner party since they were running a little late.
Camdyn’s heart still hadn’t quite recovered to a normal rhythm after she’d witnessed him peel the T-shirt off like he was auditioning for the next Magic Mike movie and then put the new shirt on. But even if she added the rule to her list, trying to enforce it may prove to be difficult, seeing as they were spending two days at a huge mansion with an infinity pool, a heated mineral pool, and several hot tubs.
Ever since the shirtless incident, Camdyn had been writing in her notebook like a mad scientist who had just discovered the formula for time travel. In actuality, she was writing down the ideas flooding her mind about Katya’s hot new boyfriend Maksim and how she needed to make sure he was shirtless in a few scenes.
Beckett had yet to give her any romance tips but he was a great muse and had awakened more than just her libido. Her brain was on fire with ideas about her story and Maksim, the son of an evil warlord, coming to Katya’s rescue after she’d been captured by his father. She’d barely filled four pages when her fingers started to cramp. She was such a wimp when it came to pen and paper and couldn’t wait to get to her computer. Unfortunately, the second they arrived at the house, they were expected to go to a meet and greet.
“That was kind of intense,” Beckett said, glancing over at her as he merged into the far right lane so he could take the next exit. “Is that how writing always is?”
Camdyn flexed her fingers. “Not always.” Sometimes it was like a movie in her head and she couldn’t write fast enough, while other times, it felt like she was enclosed inside a cement room and couldn’t see anything.