Focus, woman. Focus! Lock in and execute the plan.
“I have no idea how to say this, so I’ll just say it. Flat out,” I blurt, faking it until I make it. “I heard you were in trouble for beating a guy up last weekend. And facing suspension if you can’t convince the higher-ups that you’re on the straight and narrow from now on. Is that right?”
His jaw clenches, and a hint of defensiveness tightens his expression. “Yeah, that’s about the size of it. But I don’t regret what I did. That asshole had it coming.”
“Sounds like it,” I agree. I have no reason to doubt Makena’s account that Nix was playing hero when he got himself in trouble. He seems to have white-knight tendencies, a fact I hopewill make him more open to my proposal. “But that doesn’t mean you won’t be punished for it. People get punished for doing the right thing all the time.”
He shrugs, humor creeping back into his voice. “But virtue for virtue’s sake, right? At least that’s what Aristotle said.”
“Aristotle also said virtue calls for judgment,” I counter, ignoring the fact that chatting philosophy with this man makes me tingle. “I’m not saying you made an error in judgment, but I have a feeling the Voodoo management might have a different opinion…” I pull in a breath, adding with a benevolent smile, “So, I have a proposition for you.”
His brows shoot up. “I’m listening.”
Here goes nothing…
I point a finger at his muscled pecs. “Youneed to rehabilitate your image. Show the world, you’re not some loose cannon who solves problems with his fists.” I swivel my finger around to tap my own chest, right above where my cleavage gets scandalous. “AndIneed a date for my ex’s wedding in a few weeks. Someone who will make him regret every stupid decision he’s ever made. I wasn’t going to worry about revenge, but things have escalated recently and…” I exhale a laugh with razor-sharp edges. “Well, I feel like being petty. Really petty. And me showing up to his wedding with my gorgeous hockey player boyfriend is the kind of petty that will drive Theodore fucking nuts.”
I watch Nix’s face, trying to gauge his reaction. His lips twitch at the word “gorgeous,” but he seems to be focusing on the logistics.
“Boyfriend, huh?” He frowns. “So, this would be more than a wedding date kind of thing?”
“It would have to be to convince the team that you’re a stable, settled man in a long-term relationship with a boring older woman.” I wink. “One who will keep you home doing renoprojects on your nights off, so you won’t get into trouble on Bourbon Street.”
He nods slowly. I watch as his brain chews on my proposal.
His brain is sexy when it chews.
Nearly as sexy as when he’s spouting philosophy or confessing that fucking me is the best thing that’s happened to his body in longer than he can remember…
“How long are we talking?” he asks, pulling me from my persistently horny thoughts.
Clearly, I should have done something to take the edge off before approaching this man.
“Six weeks? Two months?” I suggest. “Long enough that your PR team decides you’re not a problem anymore and moves on?”
“That’s a lot of investment on your part,” he says, his brow furrowing again. “Seems kind of unfair. A couple of months of work in exchange for one night.”
I smile. “But it will be one hell of a night. His wife-to-be was also a friend. My protégée, actually. I want to rub her nose in my superior happiness, too. Make it clear she didn’t take anything I wasn’t done with a long time ago.” I shrug, aiming for casual even though just thinking about Teddy and Madison for too long is enough to make my blood pressure spike. “You’re significantly better looking than Theodore. Probably smarter, too, which I know will really chap his ass, so…”
Nix nudges my knee with his, making me acutely aware of how close we are. “You think I’m smart?”
I roll my eyes. “You know you’re smart.”
“Yeah, but a lot of women don’t notice.” He leans closer, until I’m at serious risk of losing the battle against resisting the urge to lick him. He’s just so…lickable. “I like that you do. And I like that you know Aristotle.”
“Aristotle was a smart man,” I whisper, holding his increasingly heated gaze.
I’m violating Nix at least three different ways with my eyes right now, but I can’t seem to help myself. The air in the room shifts, thickens until I’m even more aware of his earthy scent and how easy it would be to work in a quickie against the washing machine before we return to the party.
This is dangerous.
Younger men are fine for one-night stands here and there, but I’m forty years old. I’m ready to settle down, and I’m not going to find my forever with someone who was in diapers when I was in third grade. I need a partner with more experience, one who’s at the same stage of life.
Giving Nix any more of my precious time, or God forbid, risking a real attachment, would be a serious mistake.
But I can’t seem to take a step back…
“Okay, then, sounds good,” he rumbles in his “deep and serious voice.” “When do we start?”
