Leasing Love: A #GeekLove Contemporary Ménage Romance (Your Ad Here Book 2)

by Allyson Lindt

  “Ten percent.”

  His heart sank. “We can’t afford for me to do this. Not without some kind of guarantee.”

  “We’ll stick to a budget.” She nudged his knee with hers. “If this is the way you want to go, we’ll make it work.”

  “We’ve never in our adult lives stuck to a budget. We spend what we make, and when we get raises, we spend that too.” Why didn’t he think of this sooner?

  “Maybe it’s time we learn to suck it up.”

  It sounded like a bad idea. “So we’ll struggle and possibly make ourselves miserable, so I can do something that may or may not ever pay off?”

  “It’ll be worth it.”

  “Thank you.” He wasn’t sure he agreed, but he wanted to. If he kept talking, he’d never forgive himself for convincing her this was a bad idea. He dipped his head and kissed her. “We should take one last big blow out and celebrate your promotion.”

  “We’re watching our budget.” She leaned into him, tone playful. “So… ramen?”

  “I was thinking expensive ramen.”

  She laughed and settled further against his arm.

  “Seriously, though.” He trailed his fingers through his hair. “We’re going somewhere nice. Takashi?”

  “That’s about as expensive as ramen gets in this town.”

  “Technically, it’s udon. We’ll go Saturday night.” This was perfect. So why couldn’t he shake the feeling he was about to make a huge mistake? They might be at the edge of healing, but one more major tumble—like running out of money because he pursued his dream—and he didn’t know if they would survive.

  *

  When Mercy called Saturday afternoon, to ask if they were still on for dinner, Liz almost told her no. The irritation from the lunch conversation the other day had evaporated, to the point where Liz wondered if she overreacted. It was funny how time played tricks with memory.

  “We’ll get sushi.” Mercy’s tone was cajoling.

  The longer Liz drew this out, the bigger a deal she made out of nothing. “Okay. You’re coming down to the valley, though. I’m not in the mood for Flying Sumo.” It wasn’t the only sushi place in Park City, but it was Ian’s favorite.

  “That’s fair. Meet you there at eight?”

  Liz agreed, and three hours later, they stood at the host’s podium at Takashi, and Ian was trying to smooth talk the host into something less than a ninety-minute wait. In the background, porcelain clinked against saucers and weekend chatter assaulted them.

  “I’m sorry, sir.” The host sounded anything but. “Your name is on the list. We’ll buzz you when your table is ready.” He looked at someone behind Ian, apparently done with that conversation. “I can help you, sir.”

  Mercy grabbed Ian’s arm and pulled him back. “We’ll wait.”

  “Or we’ll go get steak.” Liz should have known better that to suggest this place last minute. The scents of miso and soy sauce drifted to Liz, and her stomach growled.

  “You want sushi.” Ian crossed his arms and glanced at the host again. “Besides, eight on a Saturday, everyplace is going to be packed.”

  “But I bet there’s only a five-minute wait at McDonald's.” Mercy nudged him playfully.

  He rolled his eyes, a smile threatening. “It’s tempting. But no sushi.”

  “I’ll sate the craving another time.” Liz nodded toward the exit. “Shall we?”

  “Reservation for Iverson.” Jordan’s voice made Liz’s blood run cold and then hot, and she wobbled under the wave of recognition.

  Liz was debating whether or not to risk a glance, when Chloe said “Liz? No way. What are you doing here?”

  Mercy raised her brows in question, and Liz turned to face Chloe. “Dinner,” Liz said. Smart answer. Way to be witty.

  Jordan swiveled his head away from the host and made eye contact with Liz, leaning on the podium. “Go figure. We’re here for the koi fishing.”

  The host cleared his throat, and Jordan ignored him.

  “Introductions?” Mercy prompted.

  Right. Liz would be polite, let everyone know who everyone else was, and then be on their way. “Chloe, Jordan, this is my brother Ian, and my best friend Mercy.” Liz pointed as she spoke.

  “A pleasure. Do you work with Liz?” Mercy shook their hands, and Ian followed suit.

  God. Liz was going to kill her. How to convey, beyond using names, who everyone was without it being awkward? One-night stand gone longer, meet my disapproving but lovable family.

  “I thought Liz worked for you.” Jordan didn’t flinch.

  “Oh, right. Duh.”

  Liz suppressed the desire to facepalm. “Chloe is our contact at Rinslet, for the image licenses.” You know. The person we argued about me not talking to again a few days ago? The woman you called me unprofessional over?

  “I thought the name sounded familiar. So awesome to finally meet you.” Mercy sounded as genuine as Liz had ever heard her, and Liz couldn’t figure out what she was doing. She’d say just being friendly, but the whole ditzy-blonde thing wasn’t Mercy’s typical mask.

  “Are you on your way out?” Chloe asked. “You must have gotten in early.”

  “Didn’t get in at all,” Mercy said.

  “Join us,” Chloe nodded toward the dining room. “We’re celebrating.”

  “Celebrating what?” Ian asked.

  Liz flinched. Probably the opportunity with Jonathan. Which no one was allowed to discuss.

  Jordan didn’t hesitate. “Life being good.”

  Chloe looped her hand around Liz’s arm. The familiar contact jolted Liz into a pleasant haze and almost knocked her thoughts off track. She shook her head at the same time Ian said, “We couldn’t intrude.”

  “We’re not. They invited us.” Mercy intertwined her fingers with his. “Celebrations are more fun with more people.”

  “They only have a table for two.” The pit in Liz’s gut insisted this was a bad idea.

  “You can upgrade us to five, can’t you, Matt?” Jordan grinned at the host.

  Matt gestured toward the dining area. “I’m sure I’ve got something.”

  “We come here all the time for lunch.” Chloe leaned in, voice a stage whisper.

  “Love it.” Mercy fell into step behind them, tugging Ian and spinning to face Liz. “See? Sushi.”

  Wonderful. Now Liz could be a fifth wheel. That was an upgrade from third, wasn’t it?

  They were seated at a round table, with Liz between Ian and Chloe. Which would make Mercy a lot harder to kick if she kept up whatever she was doing.

  Tea was served and orders placed, and then awkward silence fell over the table.

  Ian turned to Jordan. “I don’t know what these two are up to—typical, I promise. Truth be told, we know who you are.”

  Was Liz going to have to find a hole to crawl into?

  “I can’t pay to get my clients the kind of exposure you’ve gotten over the past two weeks,” Ian said. “You didn’t deserve the doxing with the job offers, but it’s impressive coverage anyway. Who did you piss off?”

  “Do you want a list?” Jordan laughed. “There’s no such thing as bad publicity. Unofficial company mission statement.”

  This wasn’t so bad. Liz relaxed a little. “They rescued me at E3 from a blogger who wanted to talk about George. That’s pretty much how we met. They’re probably caught up in this mess because of me, but they’re been too polite to call me on it.”

  “Nothing to call you on. The guy’s a dick.” Chloe sipped her tea as elegantly as anyone in the room. She wiggled her pinky finger. “Teeny, tiny, needle-sized.”

  Liz bit her tongue, not sure how to react.

  Ian raised his brows. “With all that free time on your hands, what are you up to now?”

  “Packages,” Jordan said with a straight face.

  Mercy smirked, and Liz almost choked on a laugh, remembering the last time they had this conversation. She wasn’t used to holding her tongue in front of any of th
ese people, but it felt as though the rules had changed with them all in the same room.

  “Really.” It was impossible to get a read on Ian. He was either playing along or getting irritated.

  Liz set down her cup. “Yup. KaleidoMation has an impressive tool.”

  “Perfect for individual market penetration,” Chloe chimed in.

  The corners of Ian’s mouth twitched, and then his poker face slid back in.

  Mercy grinned broadly. “I saw that when I was out there. They were demoing it to the entire group.”

  “Take a joke.” Liz elbowed Ian.

  He shook his head, but his smile finally burst through. “You’re all children.”

  “And you’re a grumpy old man.” Liz kept her tone light and teasing.

  “And you’re my baby sister, who’s sweet, and innocent, and doesn’t talk about things like this.”

  Mercy and Chloe snorted.

  The waiter returned with their appetizers and set several sizzling plates in the center of the table.

  “He’s right.” Chloe held up her hand as if in surrender. “This is polite company.” Another round of snickers passed around the table, and she glowered before turning to Mercy. “If we insist on talking business, I’ve heard brilliant things about your tracking and reporting capabilities.”

  Mercy reached in to grab a pot sticker. “We’re the best. But it’s all top secret, black-label stuff, so… I tell you, I have to—I don’t know—cut off your ear or something.”

  “They’re cute ears, though.” Liz traced a finger along the edge of Chloe’s ear, realized what she was doing, and tried to be subtle about pulling back.

  Mercy didn’t miss a beat, jumping in before anyone had a chance to blink. “A kneecap, then. Those are extraneous.”

  As dinner came and dishes were cleared away, the conversation carried on. Apparently Jordan and Chloe were friendly enough with the staff they didn’t get dirty looks for occupying the table for several hours. Things wound down, and the group wandered to the parking lot together. After ten, even on a Saturday, the streets were half-empty. Liz squeezed Chloe’s hand and then Jordan’s. “We’ll talk on Monday night?” she asked Jordan.

  “Yup.” Jordan and Chloe headed in the opposite direction of where Liz had parked.

  “Monday?” Ian asked as soon as they were out of earshot. “What happened to never seeing them again?”

  Right. The tantrum Liz threw just a few days ago. She couldn’t tell him about the pitch for Jonathan. She was under a non-disclosure agreement and had a feeling Jordan didn’t want anyone knowing what he was up to. As much as she hated keeping things from Mercy and Ian, this was one time it was necessary. “I think we both overreacted that day,” she said.

  “I don’t overreact.” Ian drew his lips into a thin line.

  “Really? Tell us again about why you got kicked off the high-school baseball team in Chicago?”

  “That was once, and it was fifteen years ago.”

  “Closer to twenty,” Mercy said. “But no one’s counting. What about that time you got pissed off enough you let your mouth run, and you and I almost never spoke again?”

  “Almost never is a bit harsh. Besides, I groveled—of my own accord—and you forgave me.” Ian spoke with finality, as if the topic was closed.

  This felt right. A kind of casual fun Liz hadn’t had with these two since… Was the last time really before they hooked up? Liz hated the thought. She looked at Ian. “All right. You don’t overreact,” she teased. “But you were a big grump that day. And I was too. I’m sorry.”

  Liz hugged them both, and they walked her to her car before heading toward their own. She sat in the driver’s seat for several minutes after they left. The evening was a blast. More fun than she’d had in ages. No, that wasn’t right. The last time was L.A. The single reminder was enough to send a gaping emptiness spilling through her. She started the engine and cranked the radio. It was nothing the blaring music couldn’t fix.

  Starting Monday, she’d go back to being professional and friendly, but nothing more. She was struggling too much to distinguish the difference between that and flirting, when she let things go further.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Liz rearranged her work schedule so she could be done with her R&T tasks by four and get in a few hours of working with Jordan before it got too late. She showed up at his door a little before four-thirty, and they made themselves comfortable in the home office.

  Or rather, Jordan told her to get comfortable. He watched her now, sitting with her back straight and staring straight ahead, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Absolutely.” Her dull smile matched her tone. “We should get started. We have two weeks, and a lot to cover since we’re starting from scratch.”

  “Why two weeks, and why from scratch? I have a portfolio.”

  “Fantastic.” She didn’t quite look at him, but rather at something beyond him. “That’s one thing to check off. I talked to Jonathan again. There’s an industry show locally in fifteen days, and he’ll be in town. He’ll meet with you then.”

  Wow. This was really happening. Jordan had an appointment and everything. It almost made it easier to ignore the weird tension in the room. “You’re the boss. Tell me what I need to do.”

  She pulled a tablet from her briefcase and swiped the screen. In a tone a computer would envy, she ticked off a list of things they needed to accomplish in their timeframe. She met his gaze for a second, before staring past him again. “You pick where we start. Most of this can be done in any order. If you do the stuff you consider boring first, you’ll have more energy for the fun at the end.”

  That was like any other job. “I’d rather mix it up. Numbers today and tomorrow, initial design on Wednesday—back and forth like that.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” She made some notes and then started down another list, this one of questions. The next couple of hours passed the same way, with Liz jerking away each time he made eye contact, and keeping several feet between them at all times.

  When Chloe got home, Liz greeted her just as professionally and left moments later.

  Chloe stared at the closed door for a moment, and then turned to Jordan. “Was it something I said?”

  “Nope. She was like that all day.” He guided her to the couch and handed her the remote before pulling her to sit next to him.

  “So… did I imagine Saturday night?”

  “Not unless it was a shared hallucination.”

  Chloe leaned into him but didn’t turn on the TV. “She’s more open in front of her regular friends?”

  “Could be, but did you see the way she paled when her brother said he knew who we were?”

  “That was kind of cute.” Chloe sighed. “I miss the Liz who doesn’t hold her tongue.”

  Jordan did too. “She may be back, but things have changed. Maybe to what they always should have been.” If they were going to fool around with someone else in the future—a thought that didn’t entice him as much as he expected, if at all—they’d have to set stricter boundaries first.

  Tuesday with Liz wasn’t much different. Cool. Polite. Professional. With a smile and a nod for Chloe, as Liz left for the evening.

  Every time Jordan tried to bring it up, Liz brushed him off.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She didn’t sound angry or irritated or much of anything.

  “Did I do something to upset you? Did either one of us?”

  Liz would shake her head. “Not at all.” She sounded sincere.

  By Wednesday afternoon, it was time to surrender. Whatever had Liz so aloof, she didn’t seem interested in sharing. One thing he couldn’t complain about—her professionalism and skill. Every suggestion she made and task she had was fantastic from Jordan’s perspective.

  He sat in front of his computer, trying to arrange the series of portfolio thumbnails in front of him
into a visually appealing layout. “Can I get your thoughts on this?” he called over his shoulder. He didn’t look up, as he continued to click and drag and rearrange text in the pre-sized box.

  “Sure.” The sound of shuffling carried toward him, and seconds later, she rested her hand on his shoulder.

  He made sure to tuck away his shock, not wanting to startle her. “I can’t decide—keep it thematic or vary my selection?”

  “Show me both.” She leaned in closer, until her head was inches from his and her breast nudged his arm. “That’s thematic, right?”

  “Right.” His voice almost cracked. Jesus, he was a horny thirteen-year-old again, getting flustered because he touched a woman’s boob.

  She pressed in closer, and her soft perfume teased him. “Go with the variety option. You’ve got such an impressive range. Show it off.”

  That’s not the only thing about me that’s impressive. He focused on keeping the thought to himself, and turned to look at her. “Perfect. Thanks.”

  She widened her eyes and stepped back, but not far. “Fiddle with the white space a little, and some of the angles. It’s almost there, but not quite.” She kept her hand on his shoulder, as he dragged objects on-screen. “Closer. Maybe a new font?”

  “Similar style or something different?” The contact was pleasant. It raced over his skin and teased him with memories of shared nights. Mostly, it was reassuring. As if this was the way things should be.

  “Completely different. Mechanical. Or modern.”

  Time to push the limits a hint, and hope it didn’t make her backpedal. He selected a novelty font Chloe picked up years ago. It was subtle, until closer examination.

  “Oh God.” Liz laughed. “Are those anal beads? What’s that supposed to be? A fleshlight? Probably not the best choice for this.”

  “Fine.” He dragged out the word in an exaggerated huff and selected Comic Sans instead. “Better?”

  “No.” She slapped him playfully. “I preferred the dildos.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  She shook her head, but her smile didn’t fade. “Mechanical or modern.”