The Hookup Hoax (Entangled Lovestruck)

by Heather Thurmeier

  Her gaze flickered down to his lips. Sawyer sank into his chair, leaving his hand on the back of her neck for another moment, not wanting to stop touching her.

  “Relax. We’re chatting about work.” Sawyer sighed and gripped his cold glass instead of Olivia, already missing the feel of her warm, soft skin under his fingertips.

  “I don’t know, from my angle it looked like you two were getting awfully cozy. Don’t tell me I’ve made a huge mistake letting this arrangement happen.”

  “Last time I checked, you weren’t involved in the arrangement between us.” She raised her chin.

  “Is that right?”

  “The lady has spoken.” Sawyer smirked. He liked having her on his side. Not that he was against Aidan in any way, but having her defend their agreement felt surprisingly good. For once, he wasn’t alone in trying to reach his goals.

  Olivia covered her mouth as she yawned. “I know you guys are used to working but I’m not and my first day was exhausting. I don’t want to argue. I want to sit here, have a drink and a bite to eat, possibly some good conversation—although with you two, you’ll probably have me bored to tears—and then you’re taking me home to bed.”

  The beer hit the back of Sawyer’s throat when he inhaled quickly at her unexpected words. He coughed and covered his mouth with his napkin. Her cheeks turned bright red.

  “That’s not what I meant,” she said. “I meant he drove us here so after dinner, technically, he’d be the one taking me home. And then I intend to go straight between the sheets.”

  Sawyer arched an eyebrow and couldn’t hold back a smirk.

  “Really?” Aidan asked, chuckling.

  “Alone. I’m going to bed alone. So I’m not tired for work tomorrow.” She scoffed at both of them in turn. “You two have your minds in the gutter. And gross. You’re my brother, he’s your best friend. You should kick his ass right now for being a part of this conversation.”

  They laughed while she rolled her eyes.

  They dug into their meals, eating in silence for a few minutes. Sawyer’s steak was tender and juicy and exactly the taste he’d been looking for, but he had to admit, Olivia’s pasta looked delicious. Or maybe it was the way she licked her plump, pink lips after every bite.

  “I know you haven’t been on a regular schedule in a while, but getting up today couldn’t have been that hard,” Aidan said.

  “I’ll get used to it. After this morning’s incident, I’m not about to risk being overtired again. Tonight I’m going to bed at a decent hour and tomorrow my alarm will be set for fifteen minutes earlier so I can sufficiently wake up before it’s my turn to in the bathroom.” Olivia glanced around the room before continuing. “Speaking of the bathroom, I’m going to find the Ladies.”

  Remembering the incident made him wish the tables had been turned that morning. He’d love to walk in on her getting out of the shower, her body slick with water, her hair messy and hanging free over her naked shoulders.

  “What happened this morning?” Aidan asked, grinning like he was about to hear a juicy story. Sawyer was pretty sure he’d feel differently in about thirty seconds.

  “Your sister may have walked in on me getting out of the shower, but I was covered by a towel. Mostly.” He laughed as Aidan’s grin slid into a sneer. “Don’t worry. Her virtue is still intact. Or if it isn’t, it wasn’t my fault.”

  “Let’s leave my virtue, or lack thereof, out of conversations with my brother.” Her hips swayed tantalizingly as she walked away. The curve of her muscular calves drew his attention to her legs—all the way up to where they disappeared beneath her skirt.

  “Done ogling my sister yet, douche?” Aidan’s fist connected with Sawyer’s shoulder in a way that went beyond playful. “Eyes forward.”

  “I can’t help it if she has a great body. I’m like a connoisseur of art, I might admire the masterpieces, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to buy one and take it home.”

  “Don’t let me stop you from admiring whatever art you enjoy, but when it’s attached to my sister, hands off. That Sam kid really hurt her when he dumped her—practically at the altar—back in college, and I’m not about to let you come anywhere near hurting her too. I lost her for five years while she sorted out her issues and now that she’s back, I’m not going to let you send her running away again. Got it?”

  “Shit. I forgot about that.” He paused, considering Aidan’s information. “Don’t worry. I have no plans for putting my hands on your sister unless it’s absolutely necessary to get the cabin. Otherwise, it’s strictly business.”

  Why did he feel as if he’d lied under oath?

  “It better be.” Aidan relaxed into his chair, the tension clearly leaving. “How’s the cabin project coming along?”

  “Not as well as I’d hoped. When we were there this weekend Tyler mentioned all the work he’s done around there to help them out. Of course he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to point out his dedication to the cabin, and my lack of it, while rubbing his relationship with Gran and Gramps in my face.” Sawyer sighed. “I have to figure out a way to do the same.”

  “To stoop to his level?”

  “If it gets me the cabin, it’ll be worth it in the end.”

  “So go out there and fix something.”

  “There’s nothing that needs fixing until we do the usual seasonal stuff. Maybe I can order new window screens or something. We’ve been patching the current ones for years.”

  “That could work. Possibly expensive, but makes a statement. Although, it’s an expense your arch nemesis might be the one to benefit from in the end.”

  Before he could say more, Olivia came back to the table.

  “What did I miss? You two look very serious all of a sudden.”

  “Nothing.” They both spoke at the same time.

  “Talking about ordering new window screens for the cabin,” Sawyer added.

  “Fun.” Her voice was thick with sarcasm. “Nothing like throwing a little money around to show someone you care.”

  Her complete and utter flippancy about the whole subject irked him. How was it she could get under his skin one minute then be awesome the next? Was she like this when they were younger, too, and he’d forgotten that part of her personality?

  “Well, I have to do something to counteract Tyler’s handyman status around my grandparents. Got a better idea?”

  She shrugged. “Call me crazy, but you could tell them how much the cabin means to you. Surely they’d give you some extra consideration because you practically grew up within those walls.”

  “You think I want their pity vote?” Now he’d gone from irked to irate.

  She put her hand on his and squeezed it. “I only meant that maybe you don’t need to worry so much or try so hard because you already have more attachment and right to the cabin than Tyler.”

  “Tell that to the guy who’s been working on the cabin damn near every month since I moved out a couple of years ago.” He rolled his hand under hers so their palms pressed together. The sensation of her touch sent warmth blooming in his chest, melting away his irritation.

  Aidan reached across the table and put his hand on top of theirs. “This is nice. We should all hold hands as friends more often.”

  Sawyer sat back and folded his arms across his chest, refusing to meet his friend’s gaze. He cleared his throat before continuing. “It’s not that I don’t want to be the one to do the work, but it’s too hard to make it out to the Catskills every weekend, which is why we only have Sunday dinners once or twice a month.”

  “So order the screens then. They do need them and I’m sure they’ll appreciate the gesture.”

  “We should do something to celebrate your first day at work.” Aidan smiled in what Sawyer recognized as his friend’s getting-out-of-trouble face, which he used every time a conversation needed a quick change of topic.

  “Dessert?” she asked.

  “Perfect.” Sawyer nodded, then waved over the server and request
ed to see the dessert tray. After perusing their options, they made their selections. “Do you have any specialty coffees?”

  “We do offer a variety of coffees with liquors in them that pair well with the desserts. I would suggest either the Irish kiss if you like it hot or the chocolate orgasm if you’d prefer a cold drink.”

  “What do you think? Kiss or orgasm?” Sawyer asked, trying not to laugh. He’d just been told to watch it around Olivia and now here he was, offering her two deliciously inappropriate treats.

  “I’ll have an Irish kiss. I like my coffee hot.”

  Sawyer liked things hot, too. “I’ll have that as well. Aidan?”

  “Just a regular coffee for me. I’ve got work to finish at home.”

  “And one little drink is going to change that? We’ve only missed one weekend at the bar. Surely you can’t be a lightweight already.”

  “No worries. I could still drink you under the table. But tonight I’m running numbers and that pesky decimal point tends to jump around if I have too many.”

  Their coffees arrived, along with dessert, and Olivia was the first to try her Irish kiss. When she emerged from behind the large mug, her top lip was coated in a layer of whipped cream. Sawyer reached out to wipe it away with his thumb but before he could, her tongue did the job for him.

  The ache in his groin intensified. He stifled a groan, knowing there would be no relief for his growing needs tonight, or any other night in the near future…not unless he took care of business solo-style. After witnessing Olivia’s tongue licking her lips clean, he knew his hand would never compare.

  Note to self: ordering drinks topped with whipped cream is bad for my balls.

  Chapter Seven

  Olivia tried to read the numbers on the elevator control panel as they glowed, but each digit seemed to dance before her eyes. Speaking of dancing, the normally stationary walls seemed to be sashaying to music she couldn’t hear.

  “You doing okay?” Sawyer asked. His strong, steady grip on her arm hadn’t faltered since they’d left the restaurant.

  “Fine,” she said, trying to sound convincing.

  When did I become such a lightweight?

  She hadn’t had that much to drink. Two little glasses of wine with dinner and then the Irish kiss with dessert.

  Irish kiss… Is Sawyer Irish?

  Her gaze dropped to his lips…lips practically begging her to kiss them.

  There was that grin again.

  If she could get to her room and into bed, tonight would be over. The problem was, she needed Sawyer to help her get there, and every second his hand lingered on her arm, she imagined it lingering somewhere else on her body, somewhere she shouldn’t be thinking about.

  “I can handle my liquor, you know.”

  “You can, huh?” Sawyer let go of her arm and she breathed a sigh of relief. Now if he would also take a step back. His proximity made it harder to think clearly.

  “What would your boss say if he knew you were getting drunk on a work night?” he asked.

  “Probably nothing, since it’s hard to discipline an employee when you’re guilty of the same offense, don’t you think?”

  “You might be right.” Sawyer finally took a small step back, giving her room to breathe without the intoxicating scent of his cologne. “What if the boss is fine in the morning but the employee is hung over?”

  “If the boss was a nice employer, he’d fix the employee a cup of coffee and turn the other cheek, cutting said employee a little slack for celebrating her first day of work. At his recommendation, I would add.”

  “Good thing your boss is a very nice and understanding man.”

  The elevator chimed and jolted to a stop. Olivia’s knees buckled and she reached out to brace herself. His arm slipped around her waist, holding her steady.

  “I’ve got you,” he said, guiding her down the hall to their apartment.

  “I said I was fine.”

  “Yes, you did, and the evidence clearly shows that as well, doesn’t it?” He glanced down at her while unlocking the door.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You’re more of a smart ass than I remember.”

  “I’m surprised you remember my ass.”

  “We were kids, and that wasn’t what I meant.”

  “No?” he asked, his voice rising as if he were teasing.

  “I meant you’re mouthier than I remember.” First she’d mentioned his ass, now his mouth. She needed to stop speaking before she brought up any other body parts. All of them were on her mind.

  Sawyer stopped outside her bedroom door, his hands lingering on her hips as she turned her back to the wall, leaning on it for support.

  His mouth turned up at the corner. “I can be very mouthy, when asked nicely.” His eyes held a devious glint that matched his suddenly husky tone. Maybe she wanted to follow his train of thought for a while, see where it led.

  She could definitely get onboard with his mouth leading to hers right about then. The first time they’d kissed, something inside of her had threatened to explode, and that was with an audience watching. What would it be like if he kissed her, there, in the privacy of their home?

  “Oh?”

  He mumbled an unintelligible response as he shifted against her, pressing her back to the wall. She squirmed against the pressure building in the junction of her thighs and the growing evidence of his erection nudging her belly.

  She parted her lips in silent invitation, even as her brain yelled for her to stop, begging her to listen to reason. Reason was a negative bitch, whereas spontaneity was a hungry vixen ready to get her fix.

  Sawyer was gorgeous from a distance, but up close and personal, he was unbelievably sexy. Every inch of him was a temptation to her senses, and she wanted nothing more than to touch him, taste him, feel his tongue explore her mouth and body.

  Aidan’s annoying threats arose from somewhere inside her mind, warning her to stay away from Sawyer, the player, a guy who was just like Sam. A guy who wanted no future like the one she saw for herself. She shoved Aidan’s voice into the darkest regions of her consciousness.

  Screw her brother. If he got mad at her because she kissed a guy, he would get over it. She was a grown woman and she could kiss whomever she wanted, even if that someone was a playboy like Sawyer. Especially if it was Sawyer.

  Sawyer didn’t have to be a forever kind of guy. They were playing the role of a couple for everyone else. Maybe they could call another kiss practice. She’d like to practice.

  Slipping her hands around his waist, she pulled him tight to her body and peered up at him. In an instant, his thumb was stroking her lips. She gasped at the contact, arching into him, letting her eyelids flutter closed so she could focus on his touch.

  “Oh God, Olivia. I want…” His voice trailed off when she flicked her tongue against the tip of his thumb, urging him to taste her.

  “You want what?” she asked, whispering.

  “I want…you,” he whispered back. His forehead rested on hers and his hand dropped to her shoulder, squeezing it as if he might draw strength from her.

  She tilted her head slightly, offering herself.

  “But I can’t.” A moment later, he closed his bedroom door, leaving her alone in the hall, trembling with need.

  She changed into her pajamas while trying not to fall over, then climbed into bed and pulled the blankets around her, desperately hoping to block out the rest of the world. He acted like he was as into the almost-kiss as she was, but when it came right down to it, he’d walked away.

  What kind of playboy walked away from a woman offering herself to him? What kind of self-respecting, independent woman offers herself to a man who she knows is nothing but trouble? Hadn’t she learned her lesson in college?

  She groaned and rolled onto her side, cuddling her covers in her arms. Tears of embarrassment and rejection, past and present, stung her eyes.

  They had an agreement, an arrangement to keep things above board and platonic—friends-on
ly zone. Then she’d gotten drunk and crossed the line. She’d thought he’d looked at her with desire in his eyes.

  She wouldn’t be stupid enough to make that mistake again.

  …

  “Wake up. It’s your turn in the shower,” Sawyer said, brushing her hair away from her eyes. “If you don’t get up now, we’ll be late.”

  He knelt at the side of her bed, debating. A part of him—the part that saw how intoxicated she was last night, the part also feeling partially responsible for her current state—wanted to leave her in bed to sleep it off. But the other part of him, the boss part, knew missing her second day of work without a good excuse would only make her look irresponsible.

  He shook her shoulder gently.

  She stirred and rolled over onto her back, her blankets slipping down to her abdomen. Raising her arms above her head, she stretched, long and liquid like a cat waking from an afternoon nap in a sunbeam. As she did, her breasts strained against the thin material of her tank top pajamas.

  The two luscious mounds looked like the perfect handful. Usually his philosophy was the bigger the boobs the better, but hers were perfect. Any bigger and they would have looked unnatural. The ribbed material of her tank must have rubbed against her nipples since they were beading beneath the cotton. He wanted to reach out and touch her, feel the tight buds under his fingertips, against his tongue. Averting his eyes, he focused on her face. “You need to shower.”

  She yawned. Her mouth gaped open in a full-bodied exhale—right into his face.

  “And you need to brush your teeth. Wow.” He chuckled, leaning back a few inches.

  Her eyes sprang open while her mouth snapped shut. A hand slapped over her lips while the other gathered the edge of the blanket and pulled it up to her chin. “What are you doing in my room?” she asked, her voice muffled.

  “Trying to wake you up.” He hovered at the edge of her bed, awestruck by how amazing she looked while still half asleep. He didn’t usually stick around long enough to see women in bed in the morning, but he liked what lay in front of him—messy hair splayed out on the pillow, eyes heavy with lingering dreams, curves barely concealed by pajamas.