Page 20 of Rival Desires

“He’s been tailing me,” I blurted out. “Or trying to get a scoop on my business moves. Trying to snag a client I’m after.”

Nat’s eyebrows shot up. “How do you figure?”

I leaned in, going for the dramatic reveal. “I was at this brunch meeting, right? With a potential client’s son. And guess who was there with the client herself? Cory McCrae, all decked out in this smexy suit.”

“Smexy?” she echoed.

“Smoldering and sexy. It’s a thing,” I insisted. At her skeptical look, I defended, “What? It’s a legit word.”

She laughed, eyeing my almost empty glass. “I think it’s time to cut you off. You’re inventing words now.”

“Hey, all words are made up,” I shot back. “Thor said that.”

Nat shook her head, grinning. “You need more hobbies than quoting comic book characters.”

“I prefer to think I’m quoting Chris Hemsworth.”

She signaled the bartender for water. “Okay, Hemsworth fan, tell me you ate something earlier.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Mom. Had dinner.”

“Geez,” Nat said, half-teasing, half-serious. “This guy really gets to you. You definitely have a thing for him.”

“I fucking despise him!” I protested a little too loudly.

“Alright, alright,” she soothed. “You hate him, but you’re definitely into him.”

“Fuck no,” I said, grabbing the water. “He’s hot, though. Those dimples, remember?”

“You mentioned them,” Nat said with a chuckle. “And don’t forget the other, um, attributes,” she added.

Her blushing face was a sight, and I started laughing. “You can’t say ‘cock,’ can you?”

“Shut up.”

“What about ‘dick’? Or you could be completely teacher-y and just go with the anatomical term ‘penis.’”

“You’re such a jerk,” Nat said.

“At leastIcan say penis.”

Nat crossed her arms, giving me a pointed look. “At leastI’mnot mooning over my business rival.”

“That’s it,” I declared, downing the water in one go. The bottle crumpled awkwardly, ruining my attempt at a dramatic gesture. “I’m gonna show you what ‘mooning over someone’ really looks like.”

Nat’s skeptical eyebrow raise told me she probably thought I’d gone off the deep end, but there was no stopping me now. I swiveled around, scanning the sea of people, and zeroed in on the first half-decent-looking bloke who seemed to be flying solo.

“Just watch me show how little I give a damn about Mr. Smexy,” I proclaimed, marching towards the guy. “And for the record, ‘smexy’ is here to stay.”

As I closed the distance between us, I sized up the dude; shaggy sandy blond hair, dark eyes that gave nothing away, and a physique that practically screamed, “I used to be the star quarterback.”

I tapped his shoulder, and while there was no earth-shattering spark like with Cory, that wasn’t the point. This was about making a statement.

“Wanna dance?” I asked, flashing him my best come-hither look.

He gave me the once-over and apparently liked what he saw. We navigated through the throng of people, and he found us a little spot to call our own. I draped my arms around his neck, moving to the rhythm, doing my darndest to focus on the current dance partner, not the last one.

I hoped Nat was getting an eyeful, seeing just how much I was absolutely, positivelynotthinking about Cory McCrae. Not one bit.

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