Page 8 of Working for the Runaway Bride

The tow truck horn feels like it was a lifetime ago. Right now there’s only the tight, heated cage of this car door, her body molded to mine, and the undeniable pulse of arousal thickening between us. I don’t know how the hell we’re getting out of this, but goddamn, I don’t want to move. Not yet. Not when every breath she takes feels like it’s pulling me deeper under.

Shit. This is not good.

CHAPTER

TWO

MOLLY—SEVEN DAYS BEFORE THE WEDDING

I finally pull back from the tight confines of the car door, my heart hammering against my ribs. My skin still burns where Grayson’s hard body had been pressed flush against mine—his broad chest to my back, those strong hips nestled right against my rear. I can still feel the unmistakable ridge of his arousal throbbing there, and a fresh wave of heat floods through me, pooling low in my belly. God, I shouldn’t be reacting like this. This is wrong on every level.

But standing next to him now, close enough that our arms brush, I can’t ignore the way his presence overwhelms me. Tall, muscled from years of manual work, with that rough stubble and the faint scent of engine oil and clean male sweat that makes my thighs clench involuntarily. My breath is still shaky, my cheeks flushed. I smooth my skirt down, trying to compose myself.

Then I hear the sharp click of dress shoes approaching. Principal Hargrove. My stomach drops.

“Miss Harper,” she says, her tone clipped as she stops in front of us, eyes narrowing at me and then flicking to Grayson and the tow truck. “What exactly are you doing out here? Your class is supposed to be in session.”

Nerves twist tight in my chest. I can’t lose this job. Not now. Not with the wedding coming up and bills piling higher every month. My fingers twist together at my sides as I fight to keep my voice steady. “Principal Hargrove, Jessica is covering my class right now. My car broke down again, and Grayson is here to tow it so it doesn’t block the staff lot. I didn’t want to leave it like this.”

Even as I speak, I’m hyper-aware of Grayson beside me—his solid warmth radiating into my side, the way his arm hovers protectively close. My body remembers every second of being trapped against him, the way his breath had fanned hot across my neck, how his hardness had pressed so insistently into me. Heat rises up my throat. I shouldn’t want this. He’s my fiancé’s dad. The guilt crashes over me like cold water, but it does nothing to stop the slick ache building between my legs.

Principal Hargrove’s face tightens with disapproval. “This is not the time or place, Miss Harper. You know the expectations. We’ll need to speak about this after school. It’s not about doing what’s easy, Molly. It’s about doing what’s right—for the students, for the school. Leaving your responsibilities like this sets a poor example.”

My pulse races with anxiety. Fired. The word echoes in my head. I nod quickly, forcing myself to meet her eyes. “Yes, ma’am. I understand. I’ll come by your office after the final bell.”

She gives a curt nod, shoots Grayson one last disapproving glance, and strides away. The moment she’s out of earshot, I let out a trembling breath, my body swaying slightly. Grayson’s arm brushes mine again, and that simple contact sends sparks racing over my skin. I glance up at him, my gaze tracing the strong line of his jaw, the way his shirt stretches across his chest. He’s looking at me with those dark, intense eyes, and for a dangerous second, all I can think about is how good it felt to be pinned between him and the car—his thick erection grinding against me.

I shouldn’t feel this way. This is insane. I could lose everything—my job, my relationship—if anyone found out how badly I want him right now.

“You okay?” Grayson murmurs, his low, rough voice sending another shiver through me.

I bite my lip, fighting the urge to lean into him. “I will be,” I whisper, my voice breathy despite my nerves. My eyes drop to his mouth, then lower, remembering exactly how hard he’d been against me. “Once this car is gone… and maybe after we finish what we started.” The words slip out before I can stop them, laced with forbidden want. My cheeks burn hotter, guilt and desire warring inside me as I stand there, terrified of losing my job but even more terrified of how much I crave his touch.

He raises an eyebrow and looks at me. “When are you finished today?”

“Three thirty.”

“I’ll let you know what I find.”

“I don’t have much money for repairs right now.” I look toward the box on the floor. “The wedding has been more expensive than we expected.”

“I’m not charging you.”

My head snaps up. “No. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“That’s very generous, but⁠—”

“You’re going to be family in a week.”

The words should feel reassuring. But they’re not. In this moment, I dread marrying Carter. I can’t imagine a worse fate than being tempted by his father for the rest of my life.

Grayson awkwardly waves, climbs into his car, and drives away.

“You know, this could be a sign.”

I turn away from the passenger window and look at Jessica. “My car breaking down is a sign?”