Then Came You (The Wilde Sisters #2) (9 page)

“I like the purple one,” Maddie said as she stroked the dress.

“Me too. It’s fitted but the material has some give to it. And it will hug your curves beautifully. How about shoes?” Eva asked.

“Shoes? Oh. All I brought were flip flops and sandals.” Thyme looked down at her tanned feet. Her turquoise pedicure with the tropical flower painted on her big toe was cute. Her toes would surely dress up a pair of sandals.

“What size are you?”

“Hmm?” Thyme looked at the perfectly coifed hair, makeup that looked airbrushed yet natural, and long, lean frame. Eva was just as beautiful as her son.

“Shoe size?”

“Oh, a seven.”

“Perfect. I’m a seven-and-a-half but the pair I’m thinking of is pretty snug on my feet. They will look stunning with this dress. You get dressed. Maddie, would you like to come with me to my suite to get the shoes for Thyme?”

“Yay! We’ll be right back, Thyme.” Maddie took Eva’s hand and pulled her through door.

Thyme used the few minutes of solitude to apply her sweet pea lotion—that was as close as she got to perfume—and dug through the bureau drawer for her pink thong and strapless bra. After pulling the dress over her head, she ran a brush through her hair and inspected herself in the mirror.

“Not bad.” She played with her hair. “Up? Down?” Thyme tilted her head back and forth, critiquing her options. Before she could do anything with her mop, Maddie and Eva returned.

“Try these on.” Eva handed over the most amazing pair of shoes Thyme had ever seen. Sage would have a heart attack. Or orgasm, she wasn’t sure. Not being any kind of shoe connoisseur, she didn’t recognize the designer, but she remembered Sage coveting a pair of shoes that had a similar red sole to them.

“They’re…wow. So not my style. Are you sure?”

“Your legs will make them look amazing. Especially with that pedicure.”

Thyme inspected the heel. Maybe two inches. She could handle that. The strapping was silver and made an intricate pattern across her foot and up her ankle, where she buckled it. The look was fabulous.

“I’ve never been a shoe girl but these puppies may convert me. Thanks, Eva. I feel like Cinderella. But I promise not to lose these shoes.”

“Or a handsome prince will come and rescue you,” Maddie squealed. “Grayson can be your handsome prince.”

Damn. Who was she fooling? This wasn’t a date. Grayson wasn’t interested in her. He had a business meeting on a yacht and his mother conveniently set them up to go out. The only reason Grayson invited her to go along was to keep up the charade that they were dating. An excuse to be involved with Maddie.

The sudden dose of reality sucked the wind out of her sails. She’d keep up the pretense in front of Eva for now, but once she and Grayson were in his car, she’d have a serious talk with him.

The doorbell rang before she could decide what to do with her hair. Hanging down her back would have to do. She hadn’t worn it out of its ponytail in months. It was much easier when playing with Maddie, cleaning, cooking, and swimming.

“Can I get it? I bet it’s Prince Charming coming to take Cinderella to the ball.” Maddie giggled.

Before Thyme could protest, the door opened and Grayson stood in the doorway, handsome and dapper in his black pants and black button-down shirt. What could have been a casual outfit on someone else looked amazingly sexy on Grayson. Of course the designer fabric and label Thyme was sure his clothes had didn’t hurt any.

Grayson smiled down at Maddie and kissed her cheek. “Hey, peanut.” He stood and noticed Thyme. “Holy shit.”

Eva gasped and covered Maddie’s ears with her hands. “Grayson Montgomery! That is no way to greet a lady.”

“Excuse me.” He nodded and swallowed. “You look lovely tonight, Thyme.”

Her girly parts danced while her brain reminded her this date was all a charade. “I like the first comment better,” she teased so she wouldn’t swoon.

Grayson pulled a hand from behind his back, revealing two striking bouquets of exotic flowers. “These—” he crouched in front of Maddie “—are for you.” He kissed her cheek again. “You and my mother best not get into any trouble tonight. No boys, understand?”

“Ew, I don’t like boys. But I like flowers.”

“What do you say, Maddie?” Thyme hedged.

“Thank you, Grayson.”

“And these are for you,” he said, shyly handing the mix of purple, orange, and yellow flowers to Thyme.

“I, uh.” No one had ever given her flowers before. She didn’t date that type of guy. “Thanks,” she said just as sheepishly. Thyme brought the flowers to her nose and breathed in the sweet smell.

“I’ll put those in a vase for you. You two should get going.” Eva stroked Thyme’s cheek as a mother would and took the flowers. “You kids have a good time. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

Breaking the trance, Thyme shook her head and blinked back tears she had no idea were in her eyes. “Yes. And I made a list of foods Maddie likes. She doesn’t have any allergies. If you could get her to bed before nine, that would be great. I’m not sure what time we’ll be back.” She looked to Grayson for an answer.

“I don’t know what Scott has planned, but it will probably be late. You sure you don’t mind, Mother?”

“Of course not. Go. Have fun.” Eva literally pushed them out the door.

Thyme found herself standing face to face with Grayson. He smelled like fresh linen, ocean breeze, and man. Solid, strong man.

She had to remind herself she wasn’t Cinderella and he wasn’t Prince Charming. “Well, let’s get this show on the road.” She lightly punched his arm and sauntered down the hall, swinging her hips with attitude, hoping she looked more confident than she felt.

Chapter Six

Grayson

Holy shit.
He couldn’t believe he said that in front of Maddie. And his mother. Grayson was brought up never to swear in front of a lady or a business associate. Way to impress the girl. Not that he was trying. They weren’t really dating. Unfortunately, Thyme brought out a side of Grayson that he didn’t know existed.

He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Grayson hurried to catch up with Thyme and rested his hand on her lower back, fighting the urge to slip his hand between the silky material and what promised to be skin as smooth as satin. Just above her perfectly round butt. He’d never been a butt man before. Or a breast man. Hell, he never had the opportunity to be any type of man other than the one Sophia, and inadvertently his parents, wanted him to be. The women his grandmother arranged for him were thin, waiflike models for the Buchanan line or heirs to another family in the fashion industry.

His feelings toward Thyme were mixed. One part of him enjoyed her sass and indifference to his lifestyle. It was refreshing to let his guard down, not to be on his best behavior. The other part of him feared her keen eye and her opinion of him. For some reason, it mattered.

Thyme stressed him out, but when he wasn’t busy getting angry at her, he could see she always made Maddie’s well-being first priority. She was the little girl’s number one advocate. And she thought him the enemy.

Well, she
did
until he cleared up the story of his meeting with Bethany. Part of him felt guilty for portraying the saintly woman in a poor light, but she had put him in quite the predicament.

“So who’s this Barry guy?”

The silky dress felt cool against his hand but it didn’t disguise the warmth of Thyme’s skin. He loved the way the material dipped a little in the back, revealing a firm spine. His eyes followed her vertebrae until it met the top of her low-dipped dress, then his eyes followed the sway of her butt. When it stopped moving, his chest bumped into her shoulder.

“You okay?”

Damn, she’d been talking to him and he’d been staring at her assets instead of listening. He was turning into…a typical guy. Grayson laughed to himself.

“You gonna let me in on the joke?”

Grayson gave her a lopsided grin and thought about all the inappropriate things he wanted to do to her. Her shiny lips called to him, but he didn’t answer. Not yet, anyway. He liked that she didn’t look like she spent hours in a salon, and that she wouldn’t whine when the wind blew her hair or complain when he kissed her lipstick off.

Not yet. Soon, though. No, never. Damn, she had his head in knots.

“I’m just enjoying the view.” He looked out to the ocean—somehow they made it through the hotel lobby and out to his car.

“Oh. Kay.”

Grayson took out his key fob, pressed the button to unlock the car, and held the door open for Thyme. If he spent an extra few seconds to appreciate her muscular calves, he was sure no one would blame him.

As he rounded the car he had a quick pep talk with his lower half, telling his other head to behave and not ruin a perfectly nice evening. In all the dates he’d been on, with all the women he’d dated, he’d never, ever had to have a pep talk this early in the night.

Hell, ever. Sex with women had always been sophisticated and planned. Never spontaneous or wicked. And he had a feeling sex with Thyme would be very, very wicked.

Grayson smiled as he slid into the leather seat behind the steering wheel.

“You look like the Cheshire cat right now. What gives?”

“I’m just happy to be done with this project.” He turned toward Thyme. “And to be out with a beautiful woman.”

She snorted and crossed her legs. “I believe the first. The second, however…”

“You don’t think you’re beautiful?” He backed out of the parking space and turned on to the main road.

“I’m nothing like the women you date.”

“You’re absolutely correct.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I meant that as a compliment. The women I typically go out with are too concerned with their weight to eat anything.”

“So you’re saying I’m a pig.”

“They spend way too much on their clothes and makeup.”

“And I’m a slob.”

He continued to ignore her but grinned when she crossed her arms across her chest, causing the delicate material of her dress to plunge dangerously low, revealing stunning cleavage and a glimpse of a lacey bra, and huffed. “They’re concerned more about their image than saying what’s on their mind.”

“And I have no image.”

“And they’re much too agreeable. There’s never any interesting conversation when a woman agrees with everything you say.”

“And I argue with you about everything.”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, I can see why you’re so happy. You get to bring a fat, blubbering slob on a multi-million dollar yacht and pray she doesn’t embarrass you with her sharp tongue.”

“Yes. That about sums it up,” he teased and quickly glanced at Thyme. The beginning of a smile etched her lips. “You’re even more beautiful when you smile.” Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. She frowned and dropped her hands to her lap, her dress righting itself yet still revealing the tops of her breasts. Her left shoulder was deliciously bare, showcasing the thin tan line made from her bikini top.

“Enough with the flattery, Montgomery. I’m here because you need an excuse to be around Maddie. I’m convenient. A filler. Don’t tell me otherwise.”

Unfortunately they reached the dock and he had no opportunity to correct her. The pre-arranged dates Sophia set up for him to escort to fashion shows and high profile events were fillers. Trophies. Statues.

Thyme was much, much more. Something more, he just didn’t know what.

Scott Barry waved him over where a small gathering of wealthy socialites with too much time on their hands stood sipping their high-end champagne.

Grayson put the car in park and slid out of his seat and around the hood to Thyme’s side. She had already gotten out of the car before he could reach her side. “I would have helped you out.”

“I’m not incompetent.”

“I never said you were.”

Now they sounded like an old married couple. Or what an old married couple must sound like. His parents didn’t argue much. It wasn’t dignified. Although there were times when he thought his mother wanted to pound her fists and scream at the top of her lungs.

“Grayson! So glad you could make it. You deserve a night off.” Scott shook his hand. “And who is this beautiful woman you’ve bribed into coming aboard?”

“Thyme, this is Scott Barry. Scott, meet Thyme Wilde.”

“Miss Wilde, the pleasure is all mine.” He took her hand and gently kissed her knuckles. If Scott weren’t old enough to be her father and completely devoted to his wife, Grayson would have knocked him off his feet.

Another anomaly that Thyme brought out in him. He’d never had the urge to hit anyone or anything in his entire life. Jealousy wasn’t in his genes.

“Please, allow me to show you around.” Scott wrapped Thyme’s hand around his arm and led her on to the impressive yacht. “I’d tell you about the size and horsepower of this baby, but I can see I’d bore you to death.”

“Actually, you wouldn’t. I worked at a marina one summer and cleaned all sorts of boats. Mostly sailboats and nothing as grand as your yacht, but I’d love to hear more.”

Grayson was left to mingle with the other guests. He recognized Selma, Scott’s wife, and Will Minton, Scott’s attorney. Making small talk with other privileged folks was his specialty. While Scott showed off his yacht to Thyme, Grayson discussed the stock market and Washington politics. Two topics that were normally at the forefront of every conversation, but had not even entered his mind in the past few weeks. Instead, he felt like an interloper, listening to Will and one of his assistants banter about taxes and health care.

“Excuse me, please.” He ducked out of the conversation before they asked him his opinion on the next election. Somehow those issues seemed trivial compared to his newfound daughter and her welfare. Grayson went off in search of Thyme. By now she surely needed rescuing.

***

Thyme

For an elderly super-mega billionaire, Scott Barry was totally normal and down to earth. Thyme didn’t understand half of what he talked about, but he introduced her to an amazing merlot and the most delicious pieces of melon wrapped in prosciutto, so all could be forgiven.

By the time she nibbled her way through five shrimp cocktails, an obscene amount of baked brie, and two glasses of wine, Grayson showed up. He came around the bow—or was it stern—of the boat, the pink and orange sunset silhouetting him, sunrays dancing off the golden highlights in his hair. She scowled at her knees for the way they buckled. Traitorous things! Must be the shoes.

“Hey, you.” She held up her glass and toasted. “Cheers.” Damn, she’d become a lightweight, not having much to drink in the past four months of watching Maddie.

The wind rustled through his hair, making him appear more approachable. She liked Grayson Montgomery rumpled.

“Sorry for abandoning you.”

“Psh, no prob. Scott was a sweetie.”
Damn you, wine!
Now she could add cheap drunk to the list of her faults.

Grayson made that adorable face that lingered between a smile and a question, his lips twisting and his eyes twinkling. As if he didn’t know if he should be entertained or appalled by her. Then he stepped forward and the boat tilted. Or maybe it was her. Or her world. Thyme grabbed on to the closest thing to steady her.

Grayson.

“Easy now. What has Scott been feeding you?”

Thyme kept her hands on his solid chest—for support—and shrugged. “Just some wine. It’s good.”

“Let’s get some dinner in you before this goes to your head.”

“Oh, I scarfed down a bunch of appetizers. I’m good.” She bet his girlfriends never used that word before, much less ever scarfed anything in their life.

“I’m sure you are, but dinner is being served down below.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. It’s so beautiful up here, don’t you think?” She turned, conveniently leaning her back against his torso, and gazed out upon the sunset. In her dreams he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck while whispering sweet nothings into her ear. Grayson had the manners of a historical romance hero. He could at least play his part.

Instead he acted the perfect gentleman and steadied her by holding on to her triceps. She may have flexed a little. Hey, she had muscle there. If you’ve got it, flaunt it. Her sisters taught her well. The heat from his callused hands made her shiver and cranked her heartbeat into overdrive. Damn him; he even made her armpits start sweating. She’d bet her next glass of merlot no girlfriend of Grayson Montgomery’s ever had sweaty armpits. Or belly fat.

She sucked in her stomach.

Or thick thighs. She squeezed them together and felt a pool of moisture. She had to pick the silk tonight. Hopefully the night breeze would air her out. Classy she was not.

“I’ll escort you to dinner.”

Seriously, who says that? And why couldn’t they make out up on the bow? Or stern? Or head? She didn’t care, but she needed to have Grayson Montgomery’s mouth on hers soon.

Somehow she managed her way through dinner. Grayson sat to her right and if she happened to lean a little more to that side, or cross her left leg and dangle her foot against his shin, well, oops. One thing Thyme was good at was reading men. The past few weeks had confused her but Grayson had been sending out signals all night long. He was interested. Somewhat. Maybe. Hopefully, whether he realized it or not.

Most likely not. The man didn’t have a clue how to seduce a woman. She’d have to do all the work.

So be it. After laughing politely at a joke Selma had said, she fanned herself with her damask linen napkin and feigned a yawn. “I’m going to get some fresh air to help liven me up. Grayson, would you care to join me?”

To his credit, he looked dumbfounded. Poor guy wouldn’t know a seduction if it smacked him right on the lips.

Which it would just so happen to do. Real soon.

Thankfully he followed without her having to be more obvious. Always the gentleman, he held her elbow as she walked up the carpeted stairs to the main deck. Having scoped out a relatively private area before dinner, Thyme led them to the corner at the back of the boat and leaned against the railing.

“This is amazing. The night air is so clean. The food delicious. The company…nice.” She batted her eyelashes in an over-the-top flirtatious move. Grayson laughed.

“Why, Miss Wilde, I’d say you’re flirting with me.”

Maybe he wasn’t as thick as she thought. “Maybe.”

“I had the feeling on the drive over here that you weren’t all that impressed with me.”