by Roz Lee
“He didn’t even offer a quick tumble,” she reminded herself. She rolled to her back, refusing to shed a tear over Ford Adams. Face it. He doesn’t want you. You’re nothing more than his business partner. Maybe his relationship with Ronnie is more serious than I thought.
He’d been right to push her away. Girlfriend or not, Ford would eventually leave Butte Plains, and she had nowhere else to go. They’d turned the company around, so it was only a matter of time before he started looking for someone to buy him and his mother out. As strange as his relationship with Ronnie seemed to her, he did have a life to go back to, and she had… nothing.
Her 25 percent of the company grew in value every day. Eventually, it would be worth something—at least enough to keep her going until she found something else to do with herself. Because she couldn’t see retaining her portion once Ford sold. Potential buyers would probably want the whole thing anyway, which meant in order for Ford to sell, she would have to, as well.
Was it wrong for her to wish he’d stay? The elder Mr. Adams had known the importance of his business to the town and done everything in his power, except ask his son to come home and help to keep the place open. He’d be proud of what Ford had accomplished in so short an amount of time, but he’d also be rolling in his grave if he knew his progeny’s plans to sell. She knew in her heart he’d hoped a year would give his son enough time to realize Butte Plains and Adams Manufacturing were home and decide to stay.
She’d known from the beginning falling for her new partner would be a stupid thing to do, and, after tonight, she also knew she’d ignored her own advice. But for a hot minute when he’d been wrapped around her, bombarding her senses with his lips, his sneaky, seductive words, and the damn vibrator he created, she’d let herself believe he felt something for her, too.
Talk about stupid. She set the gold standard for idiocy.
~~~
Becky ducked into the ladies’ room for one last check before her interview. Not a hair appeared out of place, but her tidy hairdo did nothing to quell the butterflies in her stomach. In the weeks following the humiliation of throwing herself at Ford and being rejected, she’d dedicated herself to her job, building an entire network on the foundation of their flagship program, the Adult Shopping Show. Months of work had gone into converting the original building into a home for the new network. The expanded facilities would allow them to branch out to a full schedule of prime-time and weekend shows, each with a different theme. Talks were underway to feature their competitors’ products during the less popular time slots.
Thanks to Ford’s creative genius, their product line had expanded exponentially. He complained about not being able to design fast enough to keep up with her marketing plans, but they both knew the opposite was true.
Right this minute, he was doing an interview in one of the new studios with Forbes Magazine. A reporter from Cosmopolitan waited for her in yet another studio. Afterward, she and her partner were going across town to meet a Realtor about purchasing an abandoned warehouse in order to expand production. They were also looking at a few locations near the Interstate to become a new distribution hub. To say they were busting at the seams would be an understatement.
The previous week they’d hired the same architect who had designed the remodel of the old factory to draw up plans for an extension to the current offices so they could get rid of the portable units brought in to house their newest employees. Her marketing team had increased from one—her—to half-a-dozen-plus underlings. The accounting staff outnumbered every other department except factory workers and the direct sales team.
Becky made a mental note to talk to Ford about his ideas regarding the phone order takers. Outsourcing to India would save them money, but hiring a company out of Dallas to pick up the slack would keep jobs in Texas, if not in Butte Plains. He might not care about creating jobs locally, but she did.
“We’re ready for you, Ms. Parker.”
Becky gave herself a mental shake and followed the intern down the hall.
Ford leaned against the wall outside the door and listened in on Becky Jean’s interview. He’d done at least a dozen in the last few months, but this was her first, and to hear her tell it, her last one. She’d only agreed because the magazine’s editor insisted their female readership wanted to hear her success story, not his.
A feminist to the core, he’d let Becky Jean believe she’d badgered him into all manner of equal opportunities for women within their company, but he’d fire every man on the payroll if he could replace them with women as intelligent and driven as his partner. His design set them on the right course, but without Becky steering them along the path, they’d probably be no better off than they were the day of his father’s funeral.
The woman deserved her day in the limelight.
“Hey. The receptionist said I’d find you here.”
Ford smiled and gave Scott a guy hug. “Did you come to drag me back to New York?”
“No, man. You got a good thing going here, and the new guy is working out okay. He’s so good I’ve actually had some time to work on a few projects on my own.”
Even though Ford had made a lot of money designing for other people, while working for others, he’d missed letting his imagination run wild. “I hear you, buddy. I never knew how much I missed the creative process until I got to do it full-time. What kind of stuff have you been working on?”
He knew that smile. Scott had always been a big kid, unable to hide his enthusiasm. “You still have an office?”
“Sure do.” He didn’t know why he was standing out in the hall anyway. Becky Jean didn’t need his help. The woman could take care of herself. He waved his hand, signaling Scott to follow. “Come on.”
Ford shrugged out of his suit coat. After hanging it on the back of his chair, he removed his tie and popped the top button on his shirt. Feeling as if he could breathe again, he turned his attention to his guest. “Ronnie didn’t come with you?”
Scott shook his head. “Sorry. I tried, man, but she’s adamant she isn’t going to set foot in this hick town. Her words, not mine.”
He searched his heart for the disappointment he’d become used to, and found resignation instead. He’d heard the insult before and thought the very same thing a time or two himself, but he’d never heard it from Ronnie. She was too diplomatic for that. The woman was a pro at saying something without saying anything. Her unique ability made her a favorite in her social circle. No party could be complete without Veronica Ramsey.
If she thought Butte Plains a hick town, what must she think of him? He plastered a smile on his face. “Makes me wonder what she sees in me.”
“It’s always been a mystery to me,” Scott said with a laugh. “I always thought she had good taste then she took up with you. Shattered my image of my little sister.”
His former roommate knew him better than anyone else on the planet, yet he never said a thing when he’d asked Ronnie out. Ford had taken his friend’s silence as approval. “Trust me. Your sister is far from being the saint you led me to believe her to be.”
“Hey, I never said she was a saint. Personally, I don’t know what you see in her. She can be a brat when she wants to be.”
Her holdout on coming to Butte Plains being a perfect example. “Tell me about it.” He shuffled a stack of financial reports to the side of his desk. “So, what brings you back to Hicksville?”
His friend beamed. “I have something I want to show you.”
“Yeah? You been spending company time designing something on your own?”
“Don’t tell the boss, but yes, I have.” He dug in his pocket. “See what you think.”
Ford turned the prototype over, examining it from every possible angle. “This is incredible.” He’d never seen anything so lifelike. “How much is it going to cost me?”
“What makes you think I’m willing to sell?”
He put the object back in its box then rocked back in his chair. “You wouldn’t
have brought it to me if you didn’t want to strike an agreement with Adams Manufacturing.”
Scott nodded. “You got me there. Never crossed my mind to take it anywhere else.”
Ford tried to contain his excitement. Coming to terms with Scott on this project would put them at the top of the heap in the adult toy market. He couldn’t afford to let the opportunity get away from him, but he also knew his friend was shrewd enough to know what he had. He’d come to Adams Manufacturing first out of loyalty and friendship, and if Ford had anything to say about it, he’d still have a loyal friend when the negotiations were done.
“There will be a ton of cost to get it into production. The first hurdle will be figuring out how to mass produce it. Then there’s packaging and marketing.”
“Not telling me anything I don’t know.”
“It’s worth more than I can offer up front. Adams Manufacturing is expanding fast. Lots of cash is coming in, but lots is going out, too. Would you be interested in a percentage agreement?”
“Only if I can personally oversee every step from creating the molds to designing the packaging.”
“From New York?”
“From here. The new guy we hired is doing a great job. So good, I can’t believe we didn’t hire someone years ago.” Scott cleared his throat and fidgeted in his seat. If Ford didn’t know better, he’d mistake his college roommate’s actions for nerves. “I could stay as long as it takes.”
He’d seen the reports from the company he co-owned with the man sitting across from him. The kid they’d hired to take up the slack while Ford revived his family’s business was some kind of genius, it seemed. He had yet to meet the guy, but Scott, and the bottom line, didn’t lie. But he couldn’t imagine why the born-and-bred Yankee would want to spend months in Butte Plains, Texas, when he could easily turn the project over to Ford’s team and just sit back and collect his profits—of which there would be a shit-ton of once this product became available to the general public.
“Running away from something? Is what’s her name getting too close?” He’d lay odds a woman had something to do with his friend’s contract condition.
“You mean Solange?”
“Is she the runway model?”
“Yeah, but this has nothing to do with her. A lot of work went into creating this product, and I want to make sure the consumer gets the best possible version of it.”
“And you don’t trust me to see to it?”
“You know that isn’t true. Look around you. You’ve got your hands full as it is. I have the time and the expertise to spearhead this project. Can you say the same?”
Scott had him there. “I’ve got the expertise, but you’re right about the time. And the plant is running at capacity. As a matter of fact, Becky Jean and I are supposed to go look at some real estate this afternoon. We’re thinking of opening another production facility—among other things. Wanna go with us?”
“You bet. I’ve got to drop my bags off at The Yellow Rose. Pick me up there?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Boy, am I glad that’s over.” Becky Jean sank into the same chair Scott had vacated a half hour earlier. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Interviews?” He shrugged. “I can’t stand them, but the director of marketing and public relations keeps insisting I do them.” He smiled, driving home the barb.
“Okay, okay. I get the message, but you’re swimming with the big fish now. People want to know who you are, where you came from. It’s good for business.”
She had a point, but he didn’t like speaking about his personal life to strangers any more than she did. “Speaking of business….” Ford pushed a rectangular box toward her. “What do you think of this?”
“Another one of your designs?” Becky reached for the generic container. His groin tightened as a blush crept up her neck to her cheeks—a response he could have predicted. After all this time in the adult toy business, the products they sold still flustered her.
He reined in his libido. “Nope. Scott created it. He’s willing to enter into a partnership agreement with us to produce and market it.” He leaned forward. “Go ahead. Pick it up. See what you think.”
Becky lifted the lifelike toy from its resting place. Seeing her hands on the replica male appendage caused his real one to ache. God, what he wouldn’t do to feel her fingers wrapped around his cock. It had been a hell of a long time since a woman had touched him.
“Silicone?”
He forced his attention to the spec sheets Scott had emailed him. “According to the specs, the inner core is a simple rubber compound. The outer layer, or skin, if you will, can be either latex or silicone. The prototype is latex.”
“Some people are allergic to latex.” Holding the base in one hand, she wrapped her other hand around the shaft and tugged. The outer layer slid over the core, rising up to cover the head then retreating. He swallowed hard, imagining her fingers wrapped around his flesh, moving up and down his shaft. “Feels very lifelike.”
Fuck. He did not want to think about how she came to have that knowledge.
“True.” He almost wept with relief as she placed the prototype back in the box. “I’m thinking silicone is the way to go.”
“How much does he want?”
Her color had returned to normal since they’d moved on to discussing money. Everything would be great if his dick would do the same. “I told him we would discuss it this afternoon. I invited him to go warehouse shopping with us.”
She stood and turned. His gaze landed on her perfect ass. It seemed like forever since he’d helped her remove the prototype of the Safeguard Backdoor Locking System, yet the images of her sweetly rounded globes remained fixed in his brain, popping up at inappropriate times—like right then. He remained seated as she moved to the door.
“Give me a minute and I’ll be ready to go.”
He was ready to go right then, but not in the way she meant. He needed a minute to wrestle his body under control enough to be seen in public. “Take your time.”
~~~
Becky locked the bathroom stall door. Wrapping her arms around her middle, her fists clenched tight, she dropped her forehead to the cool metal. Holy smoke, what the hell?
It’s business. It’s not personal. It’s a product. Something to sell. It’s what marketing people do.
No matter how she spun it in her head, she couldn’t shake the images her mind created when she’d held the remarkably lifelike dildo in her hands. Granted, her experience with the real thing amounted to one, but if memory served her, Scott’s creation was a near-perfect replica of a generously sized penis. Right down to the satin-smooth skin and ridged muscle underneath. It just lacked the ability to ejaculate.
“No. No. NO! Don’t go there.”
“Ms. Parker? Are you okay?”
Stifling a groan, Becky lifted her head. “I’m fine, Carolyn, but thanks for asking.” Straightening the jacket on her red suit-dress, she stepped out and approached the wash basins. “Can you tell Mr. Adams I’ll be right out?”
“Sure thing.” The young receptionist turned to go then stuck her head back in. “Mr. Ramsey is back.”
She pumped soap onto her palm and stuck her hands under the automatic faucet. “So I heard.” The crush Carolyn had for the handsome Yankee apparently hadn’t abated in the months since she’d last seen him.
“He sure dresses up the place, don’t you think?” Before she could answer, the door swung shut behind the infatuated girl.
“If you say so,” Becky mumbled, waving her hand in front of the sensor on the paper towel dispenser. Poor Carolyn didn’t stand a chance, she feared. She couldn’t thank Ford’s college friend enough for bringing them the revolutionary new product, but he could have sent the item by courier instead of hand delivering it. She suspected the man had his reasons for coming back to Butte Plains, and they had everything to do with her friend Roseanne. The owner of The Yellow Rose B&B refused to talk about the Yankee, which said a l
ot about the two of them. She’d seen the way they looked at each other when they thought no one would notice. There was something going on between them—she just didn’t have a clue what.
Carolyn’s misplaced infatuation gave Becky something else to think about besides her growing interest in her business partner.
“Good luck,” she said to her reflection. “You’re going to need it.”
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
~~~
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Scott said, scooting into the backseat of the SUV Ford insisted the company purchase so he could turn in his rental. “I had a few issues to discuss with the innkeeper.”
“I’m sure Roseanne will bend over backwards to make your stay as pleasant as possible,” Becky said.
“I’m sure she will.” He smirked.
Becky turned in her seat to glare at him. “You know, she asked if you were coming back. I got the impression she might be looking forward to your return, but I’m rethinking that.”
Scott smiled. “It’s good to know she missed me.” When Becky opened her mouth to let him have it, he held a hand up to stop her. “Simmer down. Ms. Meadows and I understand each other perfectly. I’m demanding as hell, but I also pay very well. No doubt my fat pocketbook is the reason she wanted me to return.”
