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He ignored her. “But my time has been even more limited lately, and my parents think I need to alter my image a bit.”
“I can see that.” She toyed with her hoop earring and tried to push down her nervous energy. “But why does any of this concern me?”
“Have you considered the ramifications of those pictures?” When she just stared at him, he tilted his head. “We work together. Some people might make unflattering assumptions about how you got your job over other, technically more qualified applicants.”
“Who would think that?” She swallowed a groan. Oh, just two-thirds of the town. Damn that water tower. Still, that didn’t mean she had to buckle to his whims. “Fine, people may talk for a few days. I’ll handle it. But as for the rest? Your problems aren’t mine, so go bark up some other tree.”
Even as she said the words, she wanted to snatch them back. He was her friend, sort of—all right, more like frenemy—and the lines near his bleary eyes seemed to be multiplying by the minute. She wouldn’t leave him in the lurch.
“There are no other trees,” he said quietly, and the pulse fluttering in her neck turned into a flock of wings. He leaned forward, his expression more heated than she’d ever seen it. And hot damn, did her body react. Anytime now her nipples would give him a double-barreled salute. “My parents think I need a social life. A…woman.” He said the word as if it were a verbal STD. “Not that I don’t have one. A social life, I mean.”
“Oh, of course. I’m sure you’re a primo stud.”
Yet again he ignored her. It was a familiar pattern between them. “It’s only a temporary thing. Just a few weeks. I need an escort to functions who appears to be fond of me. And from those photos, you qualify.” While she blushed her fool head off, he tugged on his collar as if he were sweltering. “I’m not asking for much. My parents suggested Melinda, but that was before the photo situation.”
Her attention blinked out after the mention of her sister. Oh, hell no. The knife in her gut went straight through her vital organs and ended up handle-deep in her ribs. Despite Melly’s resistance to dating Cory, her sister would be perfect for him—icily beautiful, reserved, quiet Melinda. And Vicky so was not. And never would be.
But she was the one in the photos. The one he’d kissed and caressed and driven crazy.
She and Cory fought all the time. What did they have in common? He looked down his nose at her clothes, her exuberance, and her “antics,” yet sometimes he would do the sweetest things, like his involvement with Dillon’s charity. Now and then he’d make her laugh during one of their frequent arguments or tease her out of a bad mood. Those times were precious. And really rare.
Hell, he’d started something the other night she desperately wanted to finish. In her current state, she didn’t need to look deeper than that.
“There must be a reason you haven’t been dating.” Vicky casually examined her manicure. “Maybe you’re saving yourself for the right woman, and that’s so not me. I’m the reformed town bad girl. The one your momma warned you about.”
“I never indicated you were the right woman.” His smirk jolted her system with twin pitchforks of annoyance and lust. “And my momma loves you. As you well know.”
“Only ’cause she’s known me since my formative years. Though that hasn’t worked as well with you.”
“I never got to see your skills on the monkey bars during recess like she did. I’m sure that’s why I’ve never appreciated you the same way.”
Leave it to Cory. He might not seem to be paying attention, but he remembered everything right down to his mother helping out with her elementary school class. He could probably describe the dress she’d worn to the junior/senior dance where they’d first spoken. No wonder he was so damn particular about the layouts for his magazine. The man had a freakish computer for a brain. He made smart sexy.
At least sometimes. The rest of the time she wanted to kick him right in his hard drive.
“Or it could’ve been your fascination with Melinda. I was always cursed with little sister syndrome in your eyes.”
For an instant he looked uncomfortable. Then his expression cleared. “Melinda and I would suit. You and I wouldn’t. Which makes you—”
She licked her lower lip, her spine tingling at his sudden fascination with her mouth. “Interesting?”
“Trouble.”
Ah, trouble. She’d been christened with that name often in her life, until she’d finally redeemed herself in the eyes of the town. Well, mostly. The ex-naughty girl had turned good. And good she would stay, after a short, intriguing detour into bad.
An image of the two of them outside the charity event flitted through her mind and she instantly felt her body begin to warm.
“You want a fake lover,” she said, trying for nonchalance.
Cory winced. “I prefer short-term corporate functionary, but yes, as you wish.”
“And you need her, like, now.” The pictures had basically sealed his fate there. Their fate.
A hint of a smile lifted his ridiculously kissable lips. Now that she knew exactly how kissable, she couldn’t drag her gaze away. “Like, yes.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Somehow he’d turned what had seemed like the worst thing ever—her newly cultivated good-girl reputation sullied for public spectacle—into a proposition that was more than intriguing. In several ways.
It would definitely look better if they seemed like they were serious about each other and not just exploring pleasures of the flesh in the great outdoors. Her career and her community standing were too important for her to risk, even when the weather forecast was steamy with a chance of orgasms.
