But wow.
I’ve never had a thing for athletes. Those oversized jocks who always seemed to take up more space than their share drove me crazy in school. Right now, though? Wade is giving me a lesson in the benefits of muscles.
“Might have to work on that one,” he says with a smile.
“You’re strong.” I think my heart might have stopped beating, or maybe I just stopped breathing.
He winks. “Hockey player.”
Catching my hand in his, he walks backward, pulling me along with him toward the store. That smile as firmly in place as the eye contact he’s not giving up.
It’s another novel experience. Uncomfortable and a little electric all at once.
“You want to look away. I can see it,” he teases in a low, singsong voice. “Bet you can’t make it all the way inside.”
“Oh, I can make it inside,” I assure him, my own smile rising to the challenge.
I’m not afraid of eye contact. In business, I have no qualms about meeting a man’s eyes, and I can say with some degree of certainty I’m rarely the one to blink first. And never because I’m intimidated.
But with Wade, it’s different. None of those business associates offered the undercurrent of smolder in their smiles that Wade Grady seems incapable of shutting down in his.
He pushes through the front door and grins. “You win.” Then, when I think he’s going to let my hand go, he changes the hold so our fingers are threaded together and leads me toward the coolers. “Let’s grab a drink.”
When we get back to the car, me with an iced tea and Wade with some jacked-up water drink, I shake my head. “I can do better.”
He pulls my door open and helps me up. “You did fine. Don’t get in your own head.”
I scoff, waiting until he rounds the hood and climbs in on his side. “That was a seventy percent. At best.”
Wade’s face does something weird and horror seeps into my voice. “Sixty?”
This time he turns to me. “Are you… grading yourself?”
I blink. Feel the familiar burn of embarrassment crawling up my neck and into my cheeks. My arms cross and I sit straighter. “What if I am?”
He reaches for my crossed arms, using a single finger and that smile to pry them loose. Then he leans in, again getting close enough to my ear that I can feel the teasing warmth of his breath. “That was a solid eighty-five. And with another pit stop or two, you’ll be acing this.”
“Sweet-talker,” I say, relaxing into my seat.
“Next exit’s in seven miles.” He starts the truck with a wink and heads back toward the highway. “So I’m guessing you’re the girl who always blew the bell curve, huh?”
I grin, not even trying to hide it. “You know it.”
Chapter 5
Wade
A few hours later, I turn off on Prairie Lane and follow the gravel road back through the trees, passing the first two mailboxes before making a left at the third. The crush of gravel welcomes me even before the trees open up enough to see the house.
“Dad loves to take care of the yard. And Mom’s got some pride over those flowerbeds. If you want to butter them up, that’s the way to do it.”
Clicking her tongue, she shoots me a withering glare. “Now I’m going to feel dirty when I compliment them. And for the record, I would have done it on my own.”
Leaving the joke about feeling dirty untouched, I pull in next to Walt’s Ranger where the drive widens for a turnabout. When I lived at home, he and I shared a beat-up truck that didn’t have privileges in the attached two-car garage, so we parked in the open space on the side.
It’s empty now, but too much to hope it will stay that way.
Shit. I’m an asshole for even thinking that.
When I don’t get out of the truck, Harlow touches my hand. “You sure you want to do this? Lie to your family? It’s not too late to back out. Tell them I broke up with you in the driveway. Honestly, it would be fine.”
I grin at her. “No way. You’re stuck with me. Unless you need to bail.”
Please don’t need to bail.
She huffs a quiet laugh. “No quitter here.”
“Okay, then.” Wrapping my finger with one of those dark ribbons of silk, I give it a gentle tug. Harlow’s lashes lower and she gives me the kind of coy smile that is some serious grade-A work. “They’re probably already watching out the window. But once I open this door, guaranteed, we’re going to have less than twenty seconds before the Gradys are all over us.”
Her eyes light. “This is intense.”
I nod. “So here’s the game plan—”
“Not a jock here.”
Maybe not, but she’s got the focus of one.
“We’ll check into the hotel this afternoon, which gives us some time with the family and then a good excuse to cut out for a break.”
“Nice. We’ll be able to address any questions that come up in private.”
Harlow is all about the mission.
“Or, you know, catch a nap or a few minutes without the familial barrage of questions that’s about to come raining down on you.”
Yeah, my brother’s the one getting married next week, but having me home for a stretch like this is an opportunity my parents don’t see often. Grace and Bill will not squander it.
And the fact that I’ve brought a girl along?
They aren’t going to want to let her go for a second.
“Will they think it’s weird that we’re just sitting out here?”
I laugh and lean in, kind of wishing I could kiss her because… Well, because I’m nervous as hell and it would be a really nice distraction. Or it would be if I could forget how completely not interested—not even a little bit—she is.
Instead, I bring our foreheads together and watch her lips. “This looks like I’m kissing you.”
Suddenly, she pushes me back with an indignant squawk. “We’re in your parents’ drive, Wade. So I can meet them for the first time. Seriously, there’s no way I’d start making out with you before we go in.”
Probably not. And then she’s slipping out the passenger side door with a laugh as I reach for her hand, wanting to hold off the inevitable those few seconds more.
But no dice.
The front door opens wide and the circus comes pouring out.
Harlow
Wade’s mom hits us first, hands shot up in the air, a peppy bounce to her step that hints at her cheerleading roots. And then she’s squeezing Wade’s face and pulling him down into a hug.
The second she releases him, his father whips a football at him. “Think fast.”
Wade catches it without a blink and shakes his head as his father closes in to slap his shoulder and pull him in for a one-armed hug. “Still got it, kid.”
When his dad steps back, he’s got the ball again and drapes an arm around his wife’s shoulders.
They turn to me, smiles wide, and my heart starts to pound. Because suddenly this isn’t just about me filling my pathetic, empty time off with a crazy challenge that’s all about having some fun. I’m not just helping Wade out with some long-standing girl trouble and communal expectations. I’m lying to his family and friends.