My Gigolo (32 page)

“Hey, see if you can get yourself on the JumboTron.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“I dunno, flash the camera man?”

“Sis!” But Gabe was laughing as she relayed the comment to Jack, who laughed and hollered a hello. “Anyway, I just wanted to call and gloat because I’m here and you’re not.”

“Pssh. I’m having T-bones tonight, kiddo. You’ve got nothing on me.”

“Box seats at Arrowhead. No competition.”

“Love you, Gabe. Have a good time.”

She wanted to add another suggestion, but she bit her tongue and hung up instead. It wouldn’t do any good anyway. Gabe always made up her own mind.

“When do they get here?”

Checking her watch, she pushed away from the railing and headed for the door. “Any minute, actually. I’d better not let the girls greet them or they’ll turn tail and run.”

Sure enough, she’d just settled Ivy in the armchair when the doorbell chimed. She felt her lips twitch on a wry smile. The first time she met Gabe’s friends, and Gabe couldn’t even know about it until later. What a life.

“Mike?” A tall black man stood on her porch, strangely well-dressed in his jeans and button-up shirt. “I certainly hope I’m in the right place. I’m Phil.”

Extending her hand, she grinned. “I don’t know if my house could ever be considered the ‘right’ place, but you’re extremely welcome. Will that do?”

He laughed—a rich, deep chuckle that brought a bigger grin to her face—and allowed her to pull him inside with the handshake. “I guess it’ll have to. And who are these lovely young ladies?”

“Don’t let them fool you. They’re monsters to the bone. This is Lily, and that little minx kicked back in the chair over there is Ivy. Be careful, or she’ll talk you into braiding her hair, and those curls make it nearly impossible.”

The doorbell chimed again, so she left him to get acquainted with the girls and put on her hostess face again. This time, two guests stood on her porch—a handsome blonde and a strikingly pretty redhead.

“Well, Phil’s inside, so you two must be Doug and Cheryl. Won’t you come in and join the chaos that is Casa Parker?”

Laughing, they entered. Gabe hadn’t told Mike that her friends were an item, but if Doug’s casual arm around Cheryl’s tiny waist was any indication, the pair was more than a little chummy. She grinned and wondered if Gabe had even noticed, what with her own über-happiness these days.

Her good cheer faltered, though, when Phil looked up from thumb wrestling with Ivy and stared. At first, she wondered if she had spilled something on her shirt. Then she realized he was staring at the happy couple. The look wasn’t entirely friendly.

“Phil! How’d you beat us here?” Cheryl smiled a little nervously. “Doug barely missed a speeding ticket to get here early.”

Still crouched by the chair, Phil remained silent a long, tense moment before forcing a smile. “I know every shortcut between here and Arkansas.”

Doug snorted, apparently oblivious to the mini-drama. “There is no shortcut to KC. It’s 71 or bust.”

The forced smile softened, became more real, and Mike let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. There was a story there, she knew, and she’d have to pull it out of Gabe somehow, even if it required pliers.

“By shortcut, Doug, I meant driving really, really fast.”

Now assured that a fight wouldn’t break out over the pretty redhead who still looked a bit ill-at-ease, she rejoined her husband on the back porch and relayed the new information. He rolled his eyes.

“This is why I agreed to T-bone duty, hon. If Gabe’s friends are even half the emotional trouble she is, my fragile little heart just couldn’t take it.”

Despite his grumbling, Darren—master chef extraordinaire—had the steaks done just in time for the kickoff, but he’d forgotten the extra time it took to cut one up into little bites for the girls and had underestimated the quantity of side dishes Mike threw together and the bustle engendered by three extra people in the house. By the time everyone actually sat down to dinner, they’d missed half of the first quarter.

“I’m so excited I almost can’t eat.” She shoved in a bite of steak and abruptly changed her tune. “What is it about a T-bone?”

Her husband shrugged. “Same thing about Arrowhead. It’s just a good thing.”

“I’ll second that.” Doug’s mouth was full, but that didn’t seem to hinder him in the least. “Darren, this is the best steak I’ve ever tasted. Hats off to you, man.”

She and Cheryl suffered through the second quarter and halftime together while the guys cheered and booed with seeming oblivion. The Chiefs were winning, much to Jack’s likely dismay, but the scoreboard wasn’t the problem. Would Gabe say yes? Would Jack even go through with it? Dear God, had he bought her a ring?

She grabbed up her cell phone, but Darren plucked it from her fingers and stuffed it in his pocket. No amount of glaring swayed him, so she threw a pillow at him and sulked. Doug laughed. Phil solemnly offered his cell phone, but Darren scotched the plan by threatening to steal that one, too.

It was too soon, she mourned. It had been only a month. They hadn’t known each other long enough to—

She cut off the thought with a start of surprise. Now that she sat down and calculated, she realized that they’d known each other for the better part of a year. How had so much time passed? Maybe it wasn’t so crazy an idea, after all.

With two minutes left in the third quarter, she decided she couldn’t watch. She gathered up the dishes and started for the kitchen with Cheryl close on her heels, but Darren again intervened, taking the dishes off her hands and practically shoving her back down on the couch.

“I’ll even wash them so they won’t be a distraction. Sit.”

Lily gave them a funny look, but Ivy took the opportunity to climb into Mike’s unoccupied lap. She clung to her youngest, wishing she'd talked Jack out of it when she had the chance. They had both been so happy lately. Why fix what wasn’t broken?

Cheryl sat to her right and took her hand. The poor woman was pale and couldn’t stop gnawing at her lip. She glanced at her man and her friend sprawled on the floor with Lily and shook her head.

“Do they even know what’s going to happen? How can they be so calm?”

Mike snorted. “They’re men. They just don’t get it.”

Darren returned just as the clock ticked down to all zeroes, and she gnawed at her lower lip, debating whether or not she should demand her phone back or sneak Phil’s into the bathroom where she could call the whole thing off in peace.

Her ever-vigilant husband sat down at her left and put an arm around her shoulders. “Have they decided where they’ll live yet?”

“Gabe’s house.”

“How will that work with Jack’s classes?”

Cheryl spoke up, her tone almost as curt as Mike’s. “Long engagement. He’ll double up some of his classes to finish in two semesters.”

“It’ll be all right, ladies.”

Mike’s hand clenched on his. “What if it isn’t?”

He chuckled, and she shot him a death glare. “If it isn’t, I’ll watch the girls so you can go fix it.”

She wanted to make a scathing comment, but the screen shifted to a poster hanging over the edge of the second tier. The gold section. She held her breath even as the announcers chuckled over the wording.

“Marry me, Gabe, and I’ll be a Chiefs fan when I’m not rooting for the Bears.” Darren shook his head. “That poor man.”

Doug laughed and eyed Cheryl speculatively. Phil raised an eyebrow.

But Mike’s gaze was glued to her sister’s face. Jack nudged Gabe with his elbow and pointed at the JumboTron. Her eyes widened as she saw herself, and she started to smile and wave. Her jaw dropped open as she read the poster, and she lurched forward to look over the edge.

“I hope they don’t pan away.”

“God, don’t even say that!”

Gabe blinked, obviously stunned, until Jack put a hand on her back and bent down to whisper in her ear. She jerked up straight like a puppet on strings, said something that made Jack throw back his head and laugh, and then threw her arms around his neck.

Mike’s breath left her on a relieved bark of laughter. The crowd roared its approval. Cheryl jumped up and threw her arms around Doug, who was happy to oblige in a little jig around the living room. The announcers offered their congratulations. Phil nodded, his relaxing face showing his relief.

“I wonder what she said.”

Grinning and already planning the wedding, she leaned back against her husband and scruffed her daughter’s curls. “If I read her lips right, she said something like ‘at least you’re not a division rival’.”

“Sounds about par for the course with those two.” He put his arm around her and stretched his legs out before him, settling in for the rest of the game and trying not to trip the dancing couple. “Did you ever think she’d settle down?”

“No, I didn’t.” Her grin turned into a smug smirk. “So I did what any good sister would do when her kid sister refuses to find a man on her own.”

Phil quirked an eyebrow, joining the conversation. “What’s that?”

“I bought her one.”

About the Author

To learn more about Molly Burkhart, please visit
www.mollyburkhart.net
. Send an email to
[email protected]
!

Scorching sex: Definitely on the menu. Hold the love, please…

Romeo for Hire

© 2010 Jane Beckenham

Workaholic Carly Mason is caught between a rock and a hard place. The rock: an invitation for four days of sun, sand and…well you get the picture…with her friends. And her mystery man. The hard place: Mr. Invisible, who lusts after her with delicious abandon, is a fantasy that doesn’t really exist.

Then she encounters a motorbike-riding Adonis whose image taunts her during the wee small hours. And when fate drops him in her sights the next day, she grabs the opportunity to offer him a job. Pretend to be her Romeo, just for the duration of her getaway.

Exhausted from months negotiating his multi-million dollar company’s expansion, Marco Valente is more than tempted by Carly’s outrageous proposal. If nothing else, it’ll give him a temporary escape from his high profile life—and his mother’s serial bride attitude.

Once on the island, Carly realizes she’s been tricked. She and Marco are the only ones there. Neither has a mobile phone—and the helicopter is disappearing into the distance. For the next four days and nights, it’s just Carly and her hired Romeo. And a growing connection that definitely wasn’t part of the contract…

Warning: Contains two unbelievably stubborn people undergoing serious cell phone withdrawal, and seriously scorching sex on the beach. Not responsible for reader’s failure to apply sunblock before reading.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Romeo for Hire:

Marco’s touch set Carly on fire. It was sublime, everything she thought it would be, and more.

As she lay on the bed, she watched him strip, clothes falling where he dropped them. He was a magnificent man and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Broad shoulders tapered to slim hips, the smattering of jet-black chest hair beckoning her fingers. Carly lowered her gaze, suddenly filled with a raging, hungering need to explore his glorious body and any residual calm she thought she possessed shattered as he eased his long, taut body next to hers.

He reached for her, and her body grazed his, chest to chest, hip to hip, the hard sensual thrust of his arousal a potent reminder that Marco was all male. Slowly his eyes darkened to a blue-black, holding hers in a powerful force. His lips sought her mouth, arousing her with a whisper-soft touch. Carly groaned and her body yielded, arching against his. Marco’s breathing came in short, sharp intakes and the pulse in the base of his throat throbbed. She ran a finger over it, felt it skip an erratic dance. She couldn’t help but smile, enjoying his reaction to her.

“Lesson one,” he whispered in her ear.

Carly braced herself, waiting with excited expectation, her eyes closing the moment before he dropped soft, shivery kisses on her eyelids then her earlobes and continuing down to her throat.

Her skin burned with desire, her body consumed by a basic need. She wound her arms around his neck, holding on, praying it wasn’t a dream and, like a genie, he would vanish. With the tips of her fingers sliding through his silky hair, the texture a sensual play against her own soft skin, she tilted his head down to her breast.

“You taste delicious,” he groaned as he suckled on one pebble-hard nub.

Hearing his whispered ecstasy, she smiled, satisfied. Nothing else mattered. “I’m learning,” she managed to say between the teasing kisses he dotted across her lips, her eyes, her face.

“You’re a good student,” he agreed and sought solace from her other breast. “Your body is so responsive,
cara mia
.”

Carly couldn’t think clearly, her mind fragmented. She could only feel, touch and taste. All thought beyond the now was gone.

Reacting with a compulsion and desire so strong, she lifted her hips to his. His erection pulsed against her stomach and he began to explore her intimately, teasing her to even greater heights than she thought possible. Emboldened, she slipped her hand between them and clasped him, smiling as Marco exhaled a harsh, ragged gasp.

“Lesson number two.”

She smiled. “I try to please.”

“You do. Very much.”

Lost in a sensory world, Carly’s mind went blank. Only Marco touching her, urging her with his fingers as they flickered over her slickness, was important. She gloried in the sensations whirling through her veins, the rhythm of his heightened touch. Finally, as she reached for some intangible goal, allowing her body to surrender completely, her cry of pleasure pierced the night as Marco brought her to heart-wrenching, joyous fulfillment.

Nothing had prepared Carly for this. Nothing. She lay dazed in utter contentment, savoring the spine-tingling moment, too happy to breathe, too fulfilled to think.

Finally, as every wonderful sensation washed over her in a gentle ebbing caress, she let out a shuddering sigh of total release and contentment. “That was beautiful.”