Chapter One

· zach ·

Day before Thanksgiving

“So, seems like I missed the action.” Hilary Matthews plopped beside me and signaled the bartender at Stoddard’s. It was our standard get-together spot when we were in Boston. I took a sip from the Harpoon IPA that had since gone flat and watched as she shrugged off her wool coat. Honey-colored hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and my mouth went dry.

“Yeah, everyone went home once I was forced to clean up your brother’s mess.” As Evan Matthews’ assistant, best friend, and honorary brother, I pretty much ran most of his shit from scheduled meetings to cleaning up rumors. His superhero, good-guy, movie star status needed safeguarding. So, when a brawl had broken out between him and some meatball rubbing up on Grace Clark, Evan’s love interest, it was my job to make sure charges weren’t filed.

“This girl must mean something to him,” Hilary said with surprise. She ordered a local pale ale and unwrapped her red scarf. I noticed the buttons on her blouse pull and the fabric stretch as she moved. Underneath, lay a set of tits I had fantasized about for years. She took a large swig of her beer.

“How’d you find out we were here?”

“Come on,” she chuckled. Hilary was seven years my junior. Growing up in the same household as the youngest of the Matthews clan, she’d stuck with us older kids. She knew most of our friends, so I often forgot that she was only twenty-seven to my thirty-four. “Pete told me.”

“Pete? You’re talking to Pete?” I scowled. Pete was short with strawberry-blond hair and pale skin. He was part of our misfit crew, but not nearly good enough for Hilary. “You like Pete?”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “So, how you gonna spin this scuffle to the press? You know it’ll be out there by morning.”

“Already got his publicist on it.” Carol was great at her job. She would have the lawyers drawing up paperwork. “He was defending the woman he loves from a scumbag. The guy was drunk and disorderly.”

“That story will work, I guess.”

“It’s actually true. Grace is different. Better for him, Hil. I wouldn’t be surprised if he married her.” I finished my beer and signaled for another. The bartender was fast, knowing whom I worked for. I’d paid a hefty fee to keep the night’s events silent. I wasn’t just an assistant. I was more like Evan’s boss. I did it all so he didn’t have to worry about the things that took up time. I was everything he needed me to be, yet he had no clue how much I actually worked.

“My brother? Married? I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Evan was a playboy, which was why it surprised me how serious he was about the romance author he’d met on location of his last movie only a few months ago in Austin, Texas. Even the idea of bringing a woman to his hometown to meet his family for the holidays was a huge deal. At one point, I’d had an interest in Grace. She was sweet and cute, but it wasn’t in me to stay committed to one woman for long. I was also smart enough to know that Grace wasn’t into me. Besides, there was one girl I couldn’t get out of my head—one I wanted more than anything, whom I could never have. And it just so happened that she was sitting beside me. “You’ll see it when you meet her tomorrow.”

“Why didn’t Josh come visit?”

“He doesn’t care for Thanksgiving.”

“He’s British anyway,” Hilary joked of our friend and Evan’s personal trainer, Josh McKenzie. He had opted to stay in Austin with his dog, Hank. We’d be back by the beginning of the week anyway. Evan’s movie was still filming and had a ways to go before it wrapped.

I glanced at the fancy Rolex my friend and boss had given me years ago and saw that midnight was around the corner. What the hell was Hilary doing out at this time? She should’ve been cozy in bed, watching Casablanca or something, not getting her drink on at a bar. “Why are you here so late?”

Hilary picked at the trail mix in a bowl that sat between us and chewed on a pretzel stick. “Bad date. Couldn’t sleep.”

The bottleneck I pulled to my lips stopped midway, and I turned toward her. “You had a date? With who?”

“You remember Danny?”

“Danny DeMarco? The guy that lived down the street from us?” My eyebrows rose to my forehead. I laughed. “What were you doing with that loser?”

“Trying to get laid.” She grinned, her light brown eyes twinkling. I swallowed and stayed silent. “I’m kidding. Lighten up, Zachary.”

My breath returned as I chuckled nervously. Shit. This was Evan’s little sister. I’d grown up with her, so curbing my jealousy should’ve been easy, but it was getting harder to mask. I didn’t want to lose the one family I had, so she was definitely off limits.

I’d met Evan in kindergarten, and we became fast friends. I always hung out with the Matthewses, but it wasn’t until I was in middle school that Rebecca Matthews took me in. I would never forget the morning that she caught me changing into a fresh t-shirt. It had clicked for her why I spent so much time at Evan’s place, and why, when invited to dinner, I ate so much. I was skin and bones.

She began probing for questions, and I confessed. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She told Katie, Evan’s older sister, to watch over us and left. That night, I was offered the chance to move in with the Matthews family. It was like winning the lottery or getting that rare golden ticket to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.

I became a Matthews. So, it was my natural inclination to protect Hilary. She was like a sister. And I reminded myself of that as she took another gulp of her drink, her full, pink lips hugging the rim of the glass. I wondered what they’d look like around my… God, I was an asshole. “So, it was a no-go with Danny, then?”

“A no-go. Since Graham dumped me I just haven’t felt right.”

“It’s been a while since then, kid.” Last year, her boyfriend of four years had met someone new and forgot to tell Hilary until she found them together. I didn’t know many of the details, but she was devastated. “Evan should’ve kicked his ass the moment he flew from Vancouver to be with you.”

“He should’ve. It’s not like he didn’t have the time. You helped comfort me during that breakup more than my brother did.”

Evan had realized he needed backup and called me. She had been so broken, so…fragile. I could still sense the hurt behind her demeanor. She needed a man who would permanently paint on that gorgeous smile.

“So, no love interests since Graham the sham?”

She rolled her eyes, sighed, and lifted her hand to signal the bartender. “No. Can’t seem to find my Mr. Right.”

“You’ll find someone,” I whispered. And she would. Someone who would give her everything she deserved. I wanted to be that guy…the one successful enough, strong enough, good enough.

“Right.” Her eyes studied me with intent, and I couldn’t help but stare back. The bartender strode over. “Gentleman Jack. The bottle.”

“On my tab,” I told him. He served us quickly, setting the bottle beside me. My smile followed hers as we held up our shot glasses. “Happy fucking Thanksgiving.”

“Thanksgiving,” she scoffed. “All it reminds me of is when my dad left my mom. It was right before that day. I was only six.” I poured another round, and we knocked them back with ease.

“I remember that. He left right before I moved in.”

We drank again, embracing the idea of taking our minds off our problems if only for a night. “He said he was going to live with his secretary. What a douche.”

“Your mom is better off.” I continued to pour, and she continued to drink without hesitation.

“And Dad’s a dick.”

The pain of her past seemed to hinder her present. Was I that way? My parents were complete assholes. I guess it still affected me, too. “Maybe he and my parents hang out, being dicks together,” I huffed.

Hilary laughed, snorting just a bit as her voice began to slur. “Now I just see three big dicks in my head, all hanging out being dicks together.”

“Stop saying dicks, Hil,” I said as I tipped back another shot.

She angled her shot glass, downed the contents, and served herself again. “Why? Because it’s not ladylike?” A hiccup escaped her mouth, and she chuckled. I kept my eyes on her bright face, wanting to see her in the throes of passion. What would she taste like with my mouth between her long legs? “I don’t have to be ladylike if I don’t fucking wanna be.”

She was adorable. I tried to reason why I liked her so much. She was just familiar, perhaps. But when she smiled, it was like my heart grew two sizes.

“Danny said he was intimidated by me.” She continued to munch on the trail mix. “I even held back the fact that I have three degrees. Men always get scared by that for some reason.”

“The right man won’t be intimidated.” I knew she was smart, but she also exuded a sureness of who she was, despite the fact that she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her career. She still spoke the truth, every time, and that was sexy as fuck.

“Graham thought it was annoying that I hadn’t gotten a real job yet. Like blogging isn’t a real job. I make a decent living off that thing. I pay my bills and take care of myself.”

I poured us another round, handed her glass over, and clinked mine to hers. “That douchebag never appreciated you.” The sting of the whiskey had no effect on my throat as it made its way into my stomach. The alcohol was doing its job of numbing me.

“Do you think you’ll ever get a different job?” Her eyes were glossed over, and she leaned closer to me.

“A different job? Me?” I hadn’t thought much about it. Truth was, I was comfortable doing what I did. I liked working for Evan Matthews, A-list actor extraordinaire. It was busy work, but not challenging. It bugged me sometimes when others saw me as a glorified gopher. Was that how Hilary saw me? “I haven’t thought about it. Well, maybe.”

Hilary shrugged. “With Evan’s talk of retiring or going into directing full-time, I’d think you’d be worried he wouldn’t need you.”

Shit. Her honesty could be a bit brutal when on the receiving end. I played with the empty shot glass in my hand, nervous about sharing with her. “I was thinking about opening up a restaurant.” The idea had been floating through my mind for years, but I’d never said it out loud. Becoming a restrauteur would be an accomplishment I could be proud of. It would be tangible. It would be difficult work. And I liked challenges.

“You’d be really great at it,” she said, pouring herself another shot. “I have no fucking clue what I wanna do. The perpetual student, three degrees. I think I should try Microbiology next.” She bunched her hair up and twisted it into a bun. The alcohol must have made her warm; her cheeks were flushed. We were going through the bottle, and the bottom would be found easily at this point.

“Why the hell would you want to work with diseases? You’d end up with like tuberculosis or that sickness the monkey gave everyone in Outbreak.”

“What else am I gonna do? That’s why I keep working on my blog and getting degrees. I do enjoy it, but it makes it difficult to meet quality men when my only interaction is with twenty-year-old college kids in my classes,” she said, tipping her head back to take in more liquor.

Her lifestyle blog was gaining attention, and it was only a matter of time before it got huge. But she was right, she wouldn’t meet a guy at school. “You’re talented, smart, and absolutely gorgeous, babe. Your guy, your Mr. Right, just isn’t ready for you yet.”

“I know,” she cried, lifting her hands up in the air then setting them on her tits. “I have a great rack, too. I mean, who wouldn’t want to get with this?”

She faced me while still holding onto her breasts. Damn, what I wouldn’t give to have my hands there while she sat on top of the bar, legs open wide for me to put my mouth between. I leaned back, my finger grazing my lower lip as I fixated on her chest. When my eyes swept up to hers, she was focused on me. Bubblegum pink lips parted as if she wanted to speak. Her gaze was determined. “Zach…” Her tone was soft and sensual. “Take me home.”