Page 74 of The Small-Town Seduction Plan

I’ve spent so long being careful and strategic about every part of my life – including all my romantic relationships. Now, nothing about these feelings is careful, and when I think about what it means to be falling for a guy way out here, outside of Hollywood… well, it’s the opposite of strategic, too.

But that’s what I wanted, wasn’t it? When I called of my wedding, and started this whole damn mess. I wanted something more than those skin-deep relationships where I always kept the upper hand, and liked the other guy less, and didn’t skip a beat when it all fell apart.

I wanted something real.

“Hello?” I call, when I arrive at Duke’s old converted barn, and try the door. It swings open.

“Back here!”

Duke’s voice comes, so I venture inside. Music is playing down the hallway, and I follow it, looking curiously around. I was, uh, occupied the last time I was in his house; now, I take in the light, airy space, full of original details and warm, masculine décor. There’s an open main room, with vaulted ceilings, cozy living room furniture, and a big kitchen– that looks like a disaster zone.

“Dinner… might be a while,” Duke says cheerfully in the middle of the chaos. He’s wearing a chef-style apron and has a streak of something white on his cheek. “There was a minor disaster with the chicken. I thought I was dredging it in flour, but it turned out to be powdered sugar.”

“That explains your makeup,” I tease, coming to greet him. There are at least three different pans bubbling on the stove, and every concrete countertop is covered with produce and jars and equipment.

“My what?” Duke frowns, as I lean up on my tiptoes and wipe it off. “Oh, that.” He chuckles, catching me to him in a slow, sizzling kiss that makes my head spin. “Hi there,” he rumbles, finally coming up for air.

“Hi,” I echo breathlessly.

How does he do that? One kiss and my heart is already pounding, desire clawing in my veins. I want to drag him down on the kitchen floor and do unspeakable things, dinner be damned.

I pull away, flustered. “So did you get the permits, for the house?” I chirp, putting the kitchen island between us before I make a fool of myself. Here he is making all this effort for a date, and I want to skip straight to the part where he’s inside me, pounding me into oblivion?—

Duke produces a Diet Coke for me, and slides it across the counter to me. “Yup, after I slipped a little something to Linette at the planning office.”

My eyes bug out. “You did what?”

Duke snorts with laughter. “I meant, I brought a box of her favorite cinnamon buns. What did you think I meant?” he smirks.

“Nothing,” I say airily, but he grins.

“Dirty girl.”

But I can’t help it. Not with him around.

I perch there, watching as Duke chops vegetables: his capable hands moving smoothly, the way the tendons in his tanned forearms flex. The man even looks sexy julienning carrots.

Yup, I’ve got it bad.

I swallow hard. If I’m going to rip the bandaid of emotional maturity off, I may as well do it now.

“Listen…” I start, feeling anxious. “I think we need to talk. About, you know, whatever it is we’re doing here.”

“You mean, having dinner, and then a night of wild, head-banging sex?” Duke asks with a smirk. “I think it’s pretty straight-forward. Unless there’s anything special you want to try… I’m game, baby,” he says, giving me a look so smoldering that I almost give up and take all my clothes off right here.

I fight the urge.

“I don’t want to fake it anymore,” I blurt. “This, I mean. Us. Whatever we were doing for the cameras, for the press, that’s over now, and I don’t want to have to wonder if you’re pretending when we’re out in public, or if the only reason you’re holding my hand is because of our deal, and not?—”

Duke rounds the island, and has me in his arms in an instant. “I already told you, what happens between us is for real,” he says, looking down at me intently. “No faking.”

“In the bedroom, I know. But I mean everything. All of it.” I bite my lip, not wanting even a kernel of doubt. “The deal’s off.”

“So, you’re firing me as your fake boyfriend?” Duke’s smile spreads, and I have to laugh too.

“Yup. You did a terrible job,” I lie, even as his hands skim over my body, making me shiver.

“And what about your real boyfriend?” Duke asks, leaning in to kiss a blazing path down the curve of my throat. “Is that position open?”

---