Strong Suit: A Birthday Suit short story

by Blakely, Lauren

  Strong Suit

  A Birthday Suit short story

  Lauren Blakely

  Contents

  Also By Lauren Blakely

  Her Prologue

  His Prologue

  1. Noah

  2. Ginny

  3. Noah

  4. Ginny

  5. Noah

  6. Ginny

  7. Noah

  Also by Lauren Blakely

  Contact

  Copyright © 2019 by Lauren Blakely

  LaurenBlakely.com

  Cover Design by © Helen Williams, First Edition Book

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. This ebook is licensed for your personal use only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Also By Lauren Blakely

  Big Rock Series

  Big Rock

  Mister O

  Well Hung

  Full Package

  Joy Ride

  Hard Wood

  One Love Series dual-POV Standalones

  The Sexy One

  The Only One

  The Hot One

  Sports Romance

  Most Valuable Playboy

  Most Likely to Score

  Standalones

  The Knocked Up Plan

  Stud Finder

  The V Card

  Wanderlust

  Come As You Are

  Part-Time Lover

  The Real Deal

  Unbreak My Heart

  The Break Up Album

  21 Stolen Kisses

  Out of Bounds

  Unzipped

  Birthday Suit

  Best Laid Plans

  The Feel Good Factor

  The Dating Proposal

  Satisfaction Guaranteed

  Never Have I Ever

  Instant Gratification

  The Heartbreakers Series

  Once Upon a Real Good Time

  Once Upon a Sure Thing

  Once Upon a Wild Fling

  The Caught Up in Love Series

  Caught Up In Us

  Pretending He’s Mine

  Playing With Her Heart

  Stars In Their Eyes Duet

  My Charming Rival

  My Sexy Rival

  The No Regrets Series

  The Thrill of It

  The Start of Us

  Every Second With You

  The Seductive Nights Series

  First Night (Julia and Clay, prequel novella)

  Night After Night (Julia and Clay, book one)

  After This Night (Julia and Clay, book two)

  One More Night (Julia and Clay, book three)

  A Wildly Seductive Night (Julia and Clay novella, book 3.5)

  The Joy Delivered Duet

  Nights With Him (A standalone novel about Michelle and Jack)

  Forbidden Nights (A standalone novel about Nate and Casey)

  The Sinful Nights Series

  Sweet Sinful Nights

  Sinful Desire

  Sinful Longing

  Sinful Love

  The Fighting Fire Series

  Burn For Me (Smith and Jamie)

  Melt for Him (Megan and Becker)

  Consumed By You (Travis and Cara)

  The Jewel Series

  A two-book sexy contemporary romance series

  The Sapphire Affair

  The Sapphire Heist

  From the day he meets her in the conference room, Noah has his sights set on Ginny. But he'll need to pull out all the stops to win her over in this delightful office romance novella from #1 NYT bestselling author Lauren Blakely!

  This book is dedicated to Joe Arden and Erin Mallon. Their lively and clever performances of these characters in the Birthday Suit audiobook inspired me to write a short story for Ginny and Noah.

  Her Prologue

  A year ago

  For the record, I did not—underline not—make the offer because he’s hot.

  I only made the offer because I’m helpful.

  That was it.

  That was all.

  It went down like this.

  At the end of a department-head meeting, my boss popped in, introduced the new director of sales, then—because he had an unexpected meeting with a client—asked if someone wouldn't mind showing him around.

  Wouldn't mind?

  Ah, hell no.

  Because Noah Rivera was easy on the eyes.

  And had the best smile ever.

  But wait. That’s not why I stuck my hand in the air.

  “I’ll be happy to show him around,” I offered.

  I did it because I liked to help.

  Always had, always would.

  “Why, thank you very much for being my tour guide,” Noah said as we walked down the hall and I showed him the food labs at our chocolate company.

  “I like to wear all sorts of hats. Head of marketing, captain of the softball team, and chief tour guide.”

  He stopped in his tracks. “Whoa. Did you just say softball team?”

  I laughed. “Yes. Is that a surprise?”

  “No. It’s just—could this day get any better? I love softball.”

  I nudged his elbow.

  Wait, did I just nudge his elbow?

  Must behave.

  I tried to make light of it. “Then you really ought to join our team. We have a ton of fun playing with the other food companies in the city.”

  He shot me a quizzical look. “And you like sports leagues? Like, really like them?”

  “Sure. My daughter’s school is right near the park, so it works out perfectly. She’ll meet me at Central Park and work on homework during the games.”

  His eyes swept down to my hand. Was he hunting for a ring? Well, he wouldn’t find one.

  “That is so cool that you’re into—I mean, that Heavenly has a softball team. I’m fired up to join.”

  I flashed him a smile. “And I’m fired up you want to join.”

  I gave him the rest of the tour, popping by to say hi to other key team members, saving the best for last.

  When we reached the corporate cafeteria, I swept my arm out wide. “And the best part? Heavenly has fabulous food. Yummy soups and delicious salads, and all sorts of options if you’re a vegetarian or gluten-free, or what have you.”

  He nodded appreciatively at the spread. “This is going to be perfect.”

  I glanced at my watch. It was twelve thirty.

  “Want to get something to eat?”

  He smiled brightly. “Is everyone here as friendly as you?”

  I shrugged playfully. “We do have a great group of people. That’s why I’ve been here for more than a decade.” I
lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Not for nothing, they do call me Ambassador Ginny.”

  He offered a hand. “Have I mentioned what a pleasure it is to meet you, Ambassador Ginny?”

  “And it's a pleasure to meet you, Noah.”

  See, I did all that because I’m helpful.

  Not because I was totally perving on the hot new guy.

  We sat down and had lunch together, and that’s when I made the biggest mistake.

  “Tell me more about you.”

  I learned he lived in Queens, a few blocks from his family, had dinner with his parents every Sunday, and liked to play soccer with his older sister’s youngest son.

  He was a freaking twenty-five-year-old family man.

  Thanks, universe, for the temptation.

  His Prologue

  Seconds Later

  She was friendly. Outgoing. Liked softball. Could talk up a storm.

  She was also sexy as hell.

  Oh, and she had an Australian accent.

  Nothing hotter in all the world.

  It was official.

  I was falling in love.

  1

  Noah

  Present Day

  I hear my favorite sound when I head to the break room to grab a bottle of water. The sound of a certain woman.

  “You know how it is, right?”

  That sexy voice. Gets me every time. In the you-know-where.

  Ginny is pouring a cup of coffee and talking to a gal who works in operations. “I hear ya,” the woman, Julie, says.

  “You’re just so overwhelmed, you try to do two things at once all the time, like you suddenly think you’re superwoman, and you can both wash dishes and dry them at the same time.”

  Julie chuckles. “Or fold laundry at the exact moment that you’re cooking.”

  “What a skill set. Don’t I wish I could do that.”

  “I’d also like to be able to sleep and exercise simultaneously.”

  Ginny high-fives Julie. “That’s how it is being a mom. You’re completely convinced you can do everything, and then you get really cocky, and also totally overwhelmed, so you try to do two diametrically opposed things at once that never work. Like brush your teeth and pee.”

  “Girl, that never works.”

  “Which leads me to my point. All this superwoman stuff—we can have it all—is just a bunch of poppycock. We’re simply trying to do it all, and we fail at all the things that way. For instance, how can I truly do one of the gazillion things on my to-do list while I’m working out? Too hard to answer email. Can’t fold laundry and exercise. And I’ve yet to figure out how to sweep the floors while I’m on the treadmill.”

  I figure this is my chance to cut in since working out is my hobby, my passion, my second favorite physical activity. I turn the corner into the room. “You could try doing squats while you brush your teeth,” I offer in as friendly a way as possible. “After all, isn’t that a great use of time? That’s totally achievable. I do that every day, in fact. I always do squats and lunges while I brush my teeth, and I use my electric toothbrush, which runs for a full two minutes. You do thirty seconds on each quadrant of your mouth, so I do lunges on each side. Right, left, right, left, boom, done.”

  I do a few squats and a couple of lunges to demonstrate.

  The redhead, oh the glorious, gorgeous redhead Ginny—who’s become a colleague, a teammate, a friend, and a lunch companion, which is thoroughly awesome because lunch is one of my three favorite meals, the others being breakfast and dinner—stares at me curiously, her lips quirking up.

  “Are you saying I need to do squats, Noah?”

  I gulp. I did not mean to insult her at all. All I want is to shower her with compliments. “No, your legs are—”

  “You think I’m not working out enough?”

  Abort, abort, abort.

  I grab the steering wheel of the plane, and I try to fly it out of the crash landing that I’m about to careen into.

  The last thing I want is for the woman I’m totally hot for to think she’s anything less than a ten. No, a one hundred. No, a one thousand on the scale of total freaking gorgeousness, charm, and personality.

  She’s the warmest, friendliest gal I’ve ever met and has been since day one. If I could just figure out how to get her to see me in a new way.

  I point furiously at the legs in question. “No, God no. Your legs are toned, tanned, and perfect.”

  I mentally slap myself upside the head. Am I allowed to say that in the workplace? I have no idea what I’m allowed to do in the workplace anymore.

  Julie snickers. “I feel like it might be my cue to go. Seems you two have a lot of multitasking and exercise life hacks to chat about.”

  She exits as Ginny arches a brow and says, “I’ll have you know, I do try to do squats, because they are good for your legs.”

  “They’re great for your legs. I pray at the altar of squats every single day.”

  She taps her chin. “But I did kind of think”—Ginny drops her voice to a naughty whisper—“that squats were good for your butt . . .” She trails off, her eyes drifting as if she’s checking out her own rear end. Oh, I would like to be looking out of her sockets right now and staring at her fine ass. Not that I haven’t checked out her cheeks every single time she strolls down the hall. Yes, I like her personality, but I dig her looks too.

  A lot.

  I’m confident, though, that I can’t compliment her butt. That’s definitely not cool in the workplace.

  “Your legs . . .”

  Hold on. I don’t know if I’m even allowed to say her legs are perfect. Is that verboten? What the hell am I allowed to say to a woman I work with anymore? We’re lateral here at Heavenly. It’s not like I’m her boss or vice versa, but I don’t know if I’m allowed to hit on a woman at work.

  “My legs are strong,” she says with a smile, finishing my half-said sentence. “I live in a fifth-floor walk-up, so I’ve already managed to combine exercise and transportation. See, that’s the one thing I have mastered multitasking.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. We’re on the same wavelength, so I decide to push a little further past the work zone. “Well, that’s awesome. Also, aren’t electric toothbrushes good for, ya know, other things?”

  Her grin is the definition of wicked. “Noah, are you about to say something vastly inappropriate about electric toothbrushes?”

  “I don’t know what I possibly could have been saying,” I say, as cheeky and innocent as possible.

  She steps closer, her eyes tap-dancing with delight. “Were you going to say that using an electric toothbrush is a euphemism for using something else?”

  I part my lips to speak when she flashes me a smile, presses a finger to her lips, and says, “We’ll just pretend neither one of us mentioned battery-operated devices.”

  She exits in a cloud of honeysuckle copper hair and an Aussie accent that turns me all the way on. And yes, as she walks down the hall, I watch her walk away.

  Someday, someday soon, I’m going to come up with a proper plan for how to woo Ginny Perretti.

  2

  Ginny

  Groan.

  Epic groan.

  Absolutely epic groan worthy of a meme.

  What was I thinking?

  It’s a question I write in my idea notebook in big, blocky letters. Then, because I want to make sure I remember it, I do a 3-D outline of the block letters.

  What were you thinking, self?

  I can’t lead him on. Even though, my God, he is one of the cutest men I have ever seen. Cute as in red-hot, want to jump him, sexy as sin. But he’s a boy, that’s what I have to remind myself.

  He’s twenty-freaking-five.

  What the hell would I do with a twenty-five-year-old? What would we talk about?

  The same things you have been talking about.

  I tell that voice to shut up.

  Because those arms, that face, that dusting of scruff. The whole picture of
Noah Rivera is everything I shouldn’t want.

  You don’t need a younger man.

  I write it again.

  And again.

  And again.

  I shift gears from my reminder, scrawling out my ideas for our next marketing campaign, repeating silently, He’s too young for me.

  That’s the trouble.

  I’ve always been drawn to younger guys, and they’re always dangerous. They’re not serious, they don’t have their act together, they don’t know how to take care of you. Even though I absolutely do not, in any way, shape, or form need a man to take care of me, I do need someone I don’t have to mother.

  I’m thirty-five and I have a ten-year-old daughter. I’m a single mom, and I’ve only ever been a single mom.

  My daughter’s father left me before she was born, and I raise her all by myself. That’s why I don’t need yet another young guy in my life, someone who can’t compute what it’s like to have responsibilities. After all, he’s the man who has enough free time to train for marathons, play in the company softball league, do a kickass amazing job as the director of sales, and probably get a full night’s rest too. He might be exceedingly excellent at playing the Uncle Noah role, but c’mon. As endearing as that is, it’s not the same as actually having everyday responsibilities of the permanent kind. I have to remind myself of that every time I feel tempted.