“Seriously, we put a poster up with a picture of Henry with those puppy dog eyes, I’m telling you women will be on us like white on rice.”
Will cocked an eyebrow. “So, are you in this for the philanthropy, or to cop a feel or two with rando women?”
His friend grinned. “Can’t we do both?”
They high-fived each other as they figured out the simple logistics to get the project underway. They were all together in town for the next few days for their friend Jamie Gusskind’s wedding. Will hadn’t been back home to Bristol, Montana for years—his family had all moved away, so there wasn’t much of a draw to returning. Except of course the breathtaking beauty of the craggy mountains and acres of wildflower meadows dotting the valley below. He’d forgotten how much he’d loved this place, and was grateful he’d have a few days to soak it all in before he had to head back to the real world.
What he hadn’t expected was his old science teacher from middle school throwing down fifty bucks to hug him, or one of his mother’s old bridge partners, who asked on his folks, who’d followed the sun to Florida once his father retired from the National Park Service. Having a dad who was a ranger had been pretty awesome growing up, and as kids he and his brother and sister got to enjoy the outdoor life in a way most kids didn’t, even in a town in which pretty much everyone spent the bulk of their free time—and often even work—outside, reveling in nature.
After the fourth woman old enough to be his mother extracted a hug from him, he leaned over to Roberto.
“Dude,” he said. “Here we thought this was gonna be cop-a-feel day on Main Street. Or at least have a couple women who were easy on the eyes,” he scraped his fingers through his wavy, black hair. “What do we have to do to get women our age to come over here?”
His buddy nodded toward two women crossing the street.
“If you build it, they will come.” He winked. “There’s the answer to your prayers, my friend.”
Will eyed the blonde, who was maybe three inches shorter than his six-foot build. That was where any comparison stopped: where he was hard, she was soft. Where he was solid, she was curvy, with long, lithe runner’s legs, a narrow waist and a set of perky tits that filled out her body-hugging shirt to a T. His gaze wandered to her face but a blindfold basically covered half of it up, so there was no telling what she looked like under that mask. No matters: he wasn’t looking for a date to the prom. He just wanted to while away the next hour or so wrapping his arms around a bunch of hot women, raise some money, have some fun—what wasn’t to like about that plan?
“I call dibs on the blonde,” he said before his friend got a chance to stake his claim.
“Fine, but you’re buying first three rounds tonight.”
Which was kind of a rip-off because Roberto was technically not officially allowed to want to grope women, since he’d been dating his girlfriend Michelle for months now.
By the time the blonde finally made it to the front of the line, Will had also hugged an eight-year-old girl, someone’s cat, and a grandpa.
He greeted the blindfolded woman and her guide with a broad smile.
Up close the woman was even more smokin’ hot. He was going to have to restrain himself or he’d have his palms all over her gorgeous heart-shaped ass before he knew it. Meanwhile, every word she uttered out of her mouth was so snarky, he immediately wanted to angle his mouth over her smartass one. Too bad he couldn’t get a good look at her face—between the blindfold and the glare from the sun it was hard to get a good bead on what she looked like, but damn, that body was rocking, with those high, pert tits that were impossible not to ogle, and the form-fitting jeans taunting him with her tight, hot little body.
Will gave a quick whistle and his dog Sherlock loped over to where they were talking, and the brunette started oohing and ahhing over him. Chicks loved that dog. Then again, who wouldn’t? He was the most perfect four-legged creature he’d ever encountered. Of course he was biased.
The women loved on Sherlock for a bit but seemed in a hurry to get on with the hug. The blonde stood up and asked what next, so he told her the drill. Maybe he was being a bit of a smartass himself, but she’d already played that card so he was just following suit.
When she finally piped down and he slid his arms around her waist, he could feel the weight of the world slip away from him. Here he was, embracing a woman he didn’t even know, but he had this burning desire to do exactly what she’d snarkily said to him not thirty seconds ago: insert his Tab A into her Slot B. It did not help matters that the closer his body insinuated itself up against hers, the more his, er, moving parts shifted, like a tree bending toward the warm sunlight. Shit, what a time to get a hard-on. There was no distracting himself with math calculations or mental images of his sister’s wedding even. Because all he could think about were her soft tits pressed so close to his hard chest, with only a millimeter or so of fabric keeping them from being skin to skin. And if things were different—like, say, if he even knew this woman, right about now he’d be groping for the button at her waist and tugging the zipper down and before either of them could count to ten he’d have been pressed so deep inside of her, their heads would be spinning. So strange—how could he be overreacting so much to this woman he didn’t even know?
He was vaguely aware of the brunette popping off a bunch of pictures on her phone, but he just couldn’t even have given a care about that. As long as she wasn’t Instagramming pictures of him naked, it was all good.
Inexplicably, though, the mood shifted, and the blonde peeled back suddenly, retreating from this tight, warm, embrace, instead backing away like she’d touched a hot stove. Shit, clearly his physiological reaction clearly spooked her, which was kind of sucky because it’s not like he willed himself to grow hard while pressed up against her. Hard not to, haha.
Lost in thought, he barely realized what was going on until he saw the blindfold drawn away from her face.
“You!” she shrieked at him, pointing at him accusatorily. “How dare you touch me with your grubby little paws?”
“Elise?” he said, his brows furrowed as he stared at her. “That was you beneath that blindfold the whole time?”
What the what? Elise Jackson? The woman he lost his virginity to? The one who flipped her shit at him halfway through prom night when she accused him of banging Samantha Cadbury even though what he was actually doing was comforting her after her date had left to go to a party out on someone’s ranch and never came back. And wait a minute—Elise, a blonde? When did that happen? Shit, she looked sexy as a blonde.
Well it was no fucking wonder he wanted to have this woman. And why his dick responded to her like some Pavlovian dog. All these years had passed and yet still, something about her called to him. Even though they’d parted ways practically enemies so many years ago—she unwilling to hear any reason, he just sick and tired of trying to get through her thick skull and finally just giving up. And now this.
And before he had a minute to process exactly how best to negotiate some sort of it’s-been-ten-years-let’s-start-again kind of truce, the woman wound up and slapped him across his cheek. Damn. He wasn’t sure which was crazier—that he stood there, not responding to what she’d just done, his hand pressed to his smarting face, or that all he could think about was if this was the price to get her back, then maybe he was willing to pay it.
Bird Dog
Coming March 12, 2019
Available for pre-order.
About the Author
Jenny Gardiner is the author of #1 Kindle Bestseller Slim to None and the award-winning novel Sleeping with Ward Cleaver. Her latest works are the It’s Reigning Men series, the Royal Romeos series, the Falling for Mr. Wrong series and her new Confessions of a Chick Magnet series. She also published the memoir Winging It: A Memoir of Caring for a Vengeful Parrot Who's Determined to Kill Me, now re-titled Bite Me: a Parrot, a Family and a Whole Lot of Flesh Wounds; the novels Anywhere but Here; Where the Heart Is; the essay collecti
on Naked Man on Main Street, and Accidentally on Purpose and Compromising Positions (writing as Erin Delany); and is a contributor to the humorous dog anthology I'm Not the Biggest Bitch in This Relationship.
Her work has been found in Ladies Home Journal, the Washington Post, Marie-Claire.com, and on NPR’s Day to Day. She was also a columnist for Charlottesville’s Daily Progress for over a decade, and is the Volunteer Coordinator for the Virginia Film Festival.
She has worked as a professional photographer, an orthodontic assistant (learning quite readily that she was not cut out for a career in polyester), a waitress (probably her highest-paying job), a TV reporter, a pre-obituary writer, as well as a publicist to a United States Senator (where she first learned to write fiction). She's photographed Prince Charles (and her assistant husband got him to chuckle!), Elizabeth Taylor, and the president of Uganda. She and her family and menagerie of pets now live a less exotic life in Virginia.
Visit Jenny at her website and sign up for her newsletter, her blog, or find her on Facebook and Twitter. And every blue moon she’ll post adorable pictures of her pets on Instagram as @thejennygardiner.
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Also by Jenny Gardiner
Confessions of a Chick Magnet
Skirt Chaser
Boy Toy
Cabana Boy
Bird Dog (Coming Soon)
Falling for Mr. Wrong
Falling for Mr. Wrong
Falling for Mr. Maybe
Falling for Mr. No Way In Hell
Falling for Mr. Sometimes
Falling for Mr. Right
It's Reigning Men
Something in the Heir
Heir Today, Gone Tomorrow
Bad to the Throne
Love is in the Heir
Shame of Thrones
Throne for a Loop
It's Getting Hot in Heir
A Court Gesture
It's Reigning Men - Books 1 - 3
The Royal Romeos
Red Hot Romeo
Black Sheep Romeo
Red Carpet Romeo
Blue Collar Romeo
Silver Spoon Romeo
Blue-Blooded Romeo
Big O Romeo
Standalone
Sleeping with Ward Cleaver
Where the Heart Is
Accidentally on Purpose
Compromising Positions
Naked Man on Main Street
Bite Me - A Parrot, a Family, and a Whole Lot of Flesh Wounds
Anywhere but Here
Slim to None
Watch for more at Jenny Gardiner’s site.
Cabana Boy Page 10
