Page 17 of Mismatched Mates

If anything, Iexcelledat business.

It didn’t take us long to get back to Pine River. Thicket & Thorn was as busy as it always was on a Friday evening, and it was late enough that the regulars were out in full force, half of them already on their way to being drunk.

As we pulled up, I noticed several heads turn our way. Of course – there was only one family in Pine River that drove cars like this.

"Subtle," I muttered.

I might as well have taken out an advertisement.

Too late now.

As we approached the bar's entrance, I spotted a familiar figure. Leon Priestley, town gossip extraordinaire, leaned against the wall, cigarette dangling from his lips. His eyes widened at the sight of us, a sly grin spreading across his face.

"Well, well," he drawled. "Jane Thomas. Riding in style tonight, aren't we? I hope it’s one of the tasty sons and not the father."

I faltered for a moment, acutely aware of my misstep. The flashy car, the handsome ‘date’—but then, an idea struck. Why fight the gossip when I could use it? If there was one person in town who could beguaranteedto spread news faster than fire in a forest on a dry day, it was Leon.

“It is,” Grant confirmed, appearing around the side of the car.

I plastered on a smile. "Leon! How nice to see you. Have you met my boyfriend, Grant?"

Grant, bless him, didn't miss a beat. His arm slipped around my waist, the gesture so natural it almost felt real. I leaned into him, my hand finding its way to his chest. I looked up at himwith an expression of exaggerated adoration. Amusement flared in his eyes as he returned the stare, those sinful lips curving.

Well then.

Leon's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. He took a long drag of his cigarette, eyes darting between us. "Boyfriend, huh? That's... new."

I tilted my chin up, meeting his skepticism with defiance. "Sometimes the best things in life catch you by surprise."

As Leon opened his mouth to respond, I felt Grant's lips brush my ear. "You're a natural at this, Little Miss Tourist," he murmured, his breath sending a shiver down my spine.

I desperately needed a cold shower and a return to my senses.

“It’s new,” Grant continued, looking into my eyes like I was the only person he could see. God, he was good. “But I have to say I’m besotted with her.”

“Huh.” Leon drew out the word, and there was just enough skepticism there to break past the last of my reserve. Without thinking, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips to Grant's. The spontaneity of my action startled even me, but Grant's response was instant and electric. His hand tightened at my waist, steadying me as if he sensed my sudden vertigo. His mouth was warm, inviting, and impossibly steady against mine.

The rough brush of his stubble against my skin sent a jolt through my body, igniting nerve endings I'd forgotten existed.

Kissing guys on a first date was strictly not in my MO.

Never mind that for me, by the first date, I had researched his name, age, occupation, marital status, hometown and the names of his parents. Fortunately the agency had done all that for me. But I still believed in taking things slow. With Grant though, it was like there was a firecracker underneath my skin, propelling me closer, into him. A deep, spiraling need that was only appeased by the feel of his lips against mine.

Soft, hesitant at first. The intoxicating scrape of stubble, and a heartbeat where we adjusted, finding the best angle. His free hand came up to cradle my jaw, feather-light, and my hand fisted his T-shirt. Our mouths slotted together, I opened mine in invitation—I didn’t mean to do that, why did I do that—and he was invading me, every brush delicious, compulsive, devouring. Devastating.

More.

My bear howled inside my chest, urging me closer, for my tongue to slide against his, for him to pull my hips against him and?—

Nope, nope, nope. Too far. Public place. This was not real.

But it feltwaytoo real.

Suddenly, reality came crashing back. I jerked away, gasping for air, my legs unsteady. Grant's hand was still at my waist, keeping me upright as I blinked, trying to regain my bearings.

"Easy there," he murmured, his voice low and rougher than usual.

Grown women were not supposed to make out with their dates in full sight of the busiest bar in their town.

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