My old truck rumbles, the motor obviously not in the mood to cooperate with me today, and I groan.
You’re gonna get caught.
Good, you shouldn’t be such a fucking creeper in the first place.
Oh, shut up.
I finish arguing with myself and push the gearshift to park and slide down in my seat to keep from being seen.
After Grace left, I’d given it about a minute’s thought before I slipped my feet into some flops and thrown a shirt on, deciding to follow her.
And now here I sit, parked a few houses down from hers, spying on her like some sort of jealous stalker.
This is ridiculous.
I watch as she steps out of her car, slamming the door harder than necessary and stomping toward the porch.
As she climbs the stairs, an exceptionally well-dressed man stands and meets her at the top step. He’s wearing a suit that even to my untrained eye looks expensive, his hair perfectly styled. His face is bright, his eyes hopeful.
Dude’s got it bad for Grace.
My fingers grip the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white as I wait to see what she does next.
When she reaches the top step, he smiles at her and my lip curls. When he pulls her into his embrace, I actually let out a growl, as if I’m a feral dog and another animal has just taken my bone.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I hadn’t been suspicious when she’d taken the call, mainly because her naked ass was hovering in the air and I couldn’t stop remembering the way it felt in my hands the night before. But when she’d back tracked after I’d offered to go with her, I had begun to wonder if maybe there was more to this guy than she was letting on.
I continue to watch them, my mind spiraling in different directions. But then she starts waving her arms wildly, her hair flying around her face, and I smile. I can’t hear what they are saying, but I don’t need to. It’s obvious she’s giving him a piece of her mind.
Riley’s smug smile fades, his face dropping as she continues her tirade, and I almost begin to feel bad for the guy.
A girl like Grace isn’t one that I would want to give up easily either; I can understand his persistence. Although, I wouldn’t be caught dead looking like a puss the way he is right now, his hand shoved into his suit pockets, his hair falling over one eye, the lost puppy dog face doing nothing to sway her.
After a few minutes of her berating him, I finally decide that I’ve seen enough. It’s obvious that she’s not hiding anything from me, and that the hopeless love-struck story is true.
Not that I didn’t believe her.
I put the gear in drive, slowly rolling toward her house, and just as I get in front of the stoop, roll my window down.
Grace turns, her mouth dropping open when she turns.
“Hiya!” I shout, my arm hanging out the window. “Beautiful day for a drive, isn’t it?”
Her mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water while Riley’s eyes narrow, his cheeks reddening.
Putting my hand up in a friendly wave, I tell them, “Just headed into work. Grace, you should bring your friend by the bar. First drink’s on the house.” Smacking the outside of the truck once, I drive off, not bothering to even look in the rearview.
An hour later, the door to the bar flies open and I don’t have to look up to know that the hurricane blowing through is named Grace Monroe.
Her heels clip across the floor, the sound echoing in the nearly empty bar, and when I do finally glance away from the baseball game that I’ve got playing on the TV behind the bar, she’s standing directly in front of me, her hands on her hips.
“You followed me?” she practically screeches, catching the attention of the few regulars sitting in the space.
Slamming her purse on the counter, she resumes her angry stance, and although I can’t see it, I can hear her foot tapping the floor. “Well, are you going to admit it? I mean, you don’t have to admit to anything, seeing as how you made it plainly obvious that you had followed me by rubbing it in Riley’s face!” Her voice continues to rise, and while I can’t be sure, I think I hear dogs howling outside.
I lift a shoulder, making a show of studying her, and then drop the towel I was holding and lean over the bar.
My voice low, I ask, “Want a drink?”
Her eyes narrow, her cheeks pink from anger. “No, I do not want a drink, Bronnson. I want an answer.”
I push back from the bar and shake my head. “I didn’t follow you. I was out for a drive. Just so happened Bessie was in the mood to explore the Old Village.”
With an irritated huff, she plops down onto a bar stool and demands, “Why?”
I shrug. “Best way to get rid of a man? Let another man do it for you.”
“I told you, Riley’s not a bad guy. I don’t want to get rid of him,” she argues. “And I was doing just fine letting him know that I wasn’t interested in him romantically.”
I can’t argue that point, because from what I could see she was definitely getting her point across. I shrug once more. “Best way to let a man know you aren’t interested in him? Bring another man home to meet him.”
She lets out a frustrated cry. “Gah! Stop doing that!”
I smile, and when her eyes drop to my mouth I know that I’ve won this one.
I stalk around the end of the bar and make my way over to the stool she’s perched in. Her eyes widen as I approach, and when I pull her body against mine she stiffens, protesting loudly. “Oh, no, sir. Don’t think you’re gonna smile at me, using that charming crooked tooth, and then come wrap your arms around me and all will be forgiven. You don’t get to use those muscles against me today!”
I chuckle, my chest rumbling as I do exactly what she says I will, and eventually she melts into me.
The group of old men sitting at the end of the bar stare, their eyes practically bugging out of their heads, and I lift one hand, giving them the finger.
A few catcalls ensue and I continue to flip them off behind Grace’s back while she struggles to turn.
With her body pressed against mine, my blood starts to pump to one part of my body, and despite the old guys’ whistles, I’m having a hard time telling my body to behave itself. Placing my lips next to her ear, I run my tongue along the outside and she shivers.
“Want a tour of the bar? Specifically, my office?” I whisper, my breath tickling her ear.
She shivers again and tilts her head back, her eyes twinkling. Her lips are twitching as she fights a smile. “No. I’m mad at you, remember?”
“Then let me apologize to you properly, earn your forgiveness.” With a wink, I pull her to her feet. She doesn’t protest, only turning away from me long enough to grab her purse from the other stool.
I’d picked up a woman or two while covering the bar, but I’d never taken them back to my office, declaring that a sacred place. Not to mention, most of the time Dani was in there anyway, and I didn’t think she’d appreciate being kicked out of her own space for my pleasure.
But Dani wasn’t the boss anymore.
And Grace wasn’t just a random afternoon romp in the sack.
And that meant that the office was empty right now, my desk just begging for Grace’s ass to sit on it.
I shout at one of the bartenders to cover me as I drag Grace caveman style through the kitchen, pointing at various pieces of equipment along the way, holding up my end of the “tour” bargain.
“And this is the boss’s office.” I grin at her wickedly, my hand hovering over the knob. “I heard that he made you mad earlier. I’m certain he’d like the chance to show you just how sorry he is. Shall we?”
She giggles, her musical laughter causing my cock to swell in my pants. Not wanting to release my hold on her hand, I shift my weight from one foot to the other in the hopes that I can relieve some of the pressure in my jeans.
One perfectly arched eyebrow shoots up and she smirks. “How exactly is the boss planning to make it up to me? I hope he doesn’t think that an apology will be enough. Words are cheap, you know.”
Her smirk remains in place as she takes one fingernail and taps it against my chest. Her hand rests over my heart for only a second before sliding down my body and cupping my straining erection.
“Well?” she asks, her hand giving my cock a light squeeze, the sensation causing my balls to tighten.
I couldn’t swear it, but I would almost bet my life on the fact that this woman wasn’t real. It wasn’t possible that not only was she more beautiful than any other woman I’d known, but that she could be both bold and shy, wild and reserved.
The woman who was currently cupping my balls, causing my heart to pound with desire, was dressed in a designer suit, her look all business.
I’d spent the last hour dwelling on the fact that I was nothing like the fancy businessman that had been sitting on her porch when she pulled up. I owned one suit, and that was reserved for funerals and weddings. If I wore anything nicer than jeans and a t-shirt, it still wasn’t as nice as what Riley had been wearing.
Nearly convincing myself that whatever she and I had going here, it was just an escape for her. A fun side trip that would soon end and she’d run back to her real life, complete with the broad-shoulder, perfectly tailored Riley.
It didn’t make sense what she was doing with me, the scum of the Earth according to anyone that knew my name. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t what those people thought I was, I’d spent my entire life living up to their expectations of me.
But in this moment, with Grace’s eyes shimmering with mischief, her body calling to mine, I realize that maybe she’d spent her whole life living up to everyone’s expectations, too. And that maybe we are right for each other. The princess and the pauper style.
And you know what?
Even if we aren’t meant for each other, that doesn’t mean that we can’t have a good time while the time lasts. And so far, I’ve been having a very good time with Grace Monroe.
Hell, even her name screams class.
With that parting thought, I twist the knob, throwing the office door open, and pull Grace in behind me. Kicking the door shut with my foot, I flip the lock, ready to show her exactly how sorry I am.