“You need a more discerning audience.”
“Are you offering?”
“Ha! It’ll take a lot more than a pretty face and a few insincere platitudes to turn my head, especially when I’m obviously second choice.”
“You think I’m pretty?” He preferred hot as fuck, but whatever worked.
Ignoring him, she ranted on, “Not every woman wants to sleep with you, you know. You might have the morals of a tomcat, but some of us have scruples and don’t need a man to make our dreams come true.”
Something Spencer said earlier jumped to the front of his brain and lodged there, followed by her conversation with Viv. Dreams. She had one. “The bank said no, so unless you know where I can find a money tree...”
“Hmm,” he muttered, rubbing his chin as a plan began to take root, “that’s not a bad idea.”
The V of her auburn brows plunged deeper. “What?”
He tilted his head, studying her. What if she really was immune to his charm? It seemed implausible, but the law of percentages was bound to catch up to him sooner or later. And if that was the case, even better. “I can make your dreams come true.”
“Oh my god, you’re such a conceited dick.” She shoved him hard, swept past him, and bent to peer out the window.
He groaned.That ass could be a problem.
“Of all the—argh!” She threw open the door and, skipping the steps, leapt gracefully to the ground, like the deer that played in the meadow on his family’s ranch.
And those legs…
Avery made sure the coast was clear and launched himself after her, his plan evolving. It was perfect. She’d be perfect. “Wait, I could pay you.”
She stopped in the middle of the parking lot and spun to face him, that red braid whipping out like a blade to slap his chest as he nearly plowed into her.
If only.
Twin flames of angry blue seared into him. “Excuse me?”
“I could—”
“I heard what you said.” Small fists found purchase on her hips. Her whole body bristled. “Are you seriously proposing that I prostitute myself? What kind of creep are you?”
He backed up, palms forward. “That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s what it sounded like.” She advanced a step, heels crunching on the gravel.
“Actually,” he said, a smug smile tilting his lips, because, yeah, he couldn’tnotpoke the bear. “I should be the one who’s offended. You’re the one who brought up paying you.”
The hole he was digging for himself grew deeper, and she looked like she wanted to hit him over the head with a shovel and bury him in it, but he couldn’t help himself.
Legs was glorious, spitting fire, challenging him with every verbal parry and thrust. And fuck, his sword was hard as steel and ready to do some thrusting. Which posed a problem. Maybe his friends were right. If this was going to work, he had to take a beat.
He retreated another step to put more space between them. Coolnight air slid under his collar, doing jack shit for the heat in his blood. “I’m sorry. Banter is a turn on for me, and you’re really good at it, but I’ll dial it back if you’ll just hear me out. Please.”
“You’ve got one minute to convince me you’re not a perv.” She barked out a laugh that reeked of derision. “Like that’s possible.” She folded her arms over her chest again. Her foot tapped, and her eyes—blue, unblinking, unbothered—remained locked on his. “Tick tock. I’ve got things to do.”
Avery straightened the noose hanging around his neck, drove his fingers through the hair hanging in his eyes, and shot her his best pussy-winning smile.
Here goes.“I need a date.”
Chapter Two
Jo’s grandma had taught her many things. How to read when she was four, how to sew on a button when she was seven. On Jo’s eleventh birthday, she’d shared her famous blue-ribbon prize-winning pecan pie recipe and given Jo her first lesson in baking. A month later, when Jo got her first period, Grandma Hayes had warned her to protect her virtue and beware of beautiful men.
