Finding Mr. Wrong

by A. m Madden

“You’re very welcome.” The second smile he gave me was genuine, and absolutely stunning. “Cream . . . Kitten?” he asked, his eyes lighting with the tease of his nickname for me.

  And . . . he was back. “Yes,” I replied, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “And please don’t call me kitten.”

  “Okay, no more kitten,” he agreed on a nod before shoveling a huge forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. “What would you like me to call you, then?”

  “Brae. My name is Brae.”

  “What fun is that?” He chewed thoughtfully, his brows furrowed in concentration as he actually waited for my reply. I got it, he liked teasing me. The more I huffed about it, the more he would.

  Ignoring his question, I took a much-needed sip of my coffee and bite of my breakfast. I decided to switch tactics. “So, since we’re stuck together, maybe we should get to know each other?”

  “I agree. What do you want to know?” He leaned back and spread his hands wide. “I’m an open book. Nothing is taboo.”

  “Okay, why the graduated star tattoos?”

  “Because the ‘biggest star’ is behind my zipper.” He smirked, using air quotes, his brows waggling.

  “Can you be serious?”

  “I am serious.” I rolled my eyes on an exhale. “Fine. I’ll tell you. One for each of my sisters.”

  “You have five sisters? There are six of you?” His response was a shrug. “And the two bars around your forearm?”

  “My parents.”

  I did not expect him to say that. My deer in headlights response must have clued him in on that. “What?” he asked, looking at his egg-laden fork. I watched the food go into his mouth and his lips move subtly as he chewed.

  “Nothing. I guess I didn’t expect that. You’re close to your family?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Aren’t you?”

  “My parents, yes. I’m an only child.”

  “I couldn’t imagine that.” He reached for his coffee, his eyes holding mine as the cup tilted upward. “You must have had a lonely childhood.”

  “I had friends, cousins. It wasn’t so bad.”

  He tipped his head and watched me for a long, hard minute. “What do you do, Brae?”

  Crap.

  A slow blush spread over my cheeks. “Stripper?”

  “What? No!”

  “Well, I’m trying to figure out what has you blushing. Lingerie model?”

  “Sales.”

  “Ah, Escort?”

  “No, you jerk.” I hit him with a glare and left it at that. Taking a sip of my coffee, I asked, “What do you do?”

  “No. We’re still on you. Why would your position make you blush?” I pictured the many positions I engaged in with my boss, Stefan, the many surfaces in which we practiced those positions, and my blush deepened.

  “I’m unemployed.” I leaned back and shrugged. “Thus this,” I added, waving a hand between us. “All inclusive six-week vacation, plus a nice cash prize sounded perfect for what I needed in my life at the moment.”

  “Ah, so it’s all about the money?”

  “For me, it’s all about a house, so yes, the money is important. Who would do this to legitimately find love? Why would you be here if not for the money?”

  “I got railroaded into it by my best friend.”

  “The one who’s your now ex-best friend?”

  “The very same.” He quirked a brow and nodded. “You pay attention.” His eyes focused on my plate. “Don’t you eat meat? Please tell me you eat meat.”

  “I try to eat healthy.”

  He snatched a piece of bacon and his jaw worked in small, meticulous circles as he chewed. “Why? Your body is incredible.” The slow perusal over my breasts caused my heartbeat to quicken.

  “Um . . . thank you, but it’s because I do that it is.” I pointed to his abs. “Don’t you work for those?”

  “If I’m in the mood, I’ll run. Otherwise, I rely on my sex life for physical activity. Just thirty minutes of fucking burns almost one hundred and fifty calories. Did you know that?” On my eye roll, he nodded. “Truth. As long as you put in some effort, that is. In fact, with you on top, you could probably burn double that. Would you like to know how many calories you can burn giving a blow job?”

  My mouth gaped open in shock. “Oh my God.”

  His lips lifted in an amused smirk. “Looks like you have the technique perfected, Sparky.” He finished up the last morsel on his plate and helped himself to the rest of my bacon. “Actually, three slices of bacon are about that many calories. Would you like to help me work them off? We’d be done just in time for the car service to arrive.” He raised one of his brows in an invite.

  “No.”

  “Why not make the most of our predicament? Six weeks in paradise without sex is going to be challenging. What kind of vacation is that? Not to mention a whole year after that. If you hear moans coming from the bathroom, that’s just me taking care of business.”

  “Anyway . . .” I drawled out, needing to change the subject before I made the insane choice to take him up on that offer. “What is it you do?”

  “Finance.” The way he sat back and folded his arms meant that was all he was saying on the topic. Well, too bad. I had the right to know details of his life if he knew some of mine. Okay, granted, I didn’t reveal why I was unemployed, but still.

  “What exactly do you do in finance? Loan shark? Bookie?”

  “Bookie?” he asked in his sexy Swedish accent. “I don’t know what that is. Does it involve sex?”

  “Is that all you think about?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “You’re very evasive. I think I deserve to know what my future husband does for a living.”

  Jude choked on the sip of coffee he’d just taken. “You’re pretty confident we’re going to make it to the end without killing each other or breaking the rules.”

  Did he think I was taking this lightly? He may have been forced into this situation by his friend, but I was forced into it by my circumstances. I needed to get to the end.

  “I don’t plan on breaking any of the rules, and yes, I most certainly will be able to make it to the end.” I picked up the napkin from my lap and placed it on the table. “Our ride will be here soon.”

  “Yes, dear.” When I stood, he took my wrist in his hand. “Forty-two days . . .” his words trailed off, but his grip remained. “Looks like I’ll be taking a lot of cold showers.”

  “Or you can just jump in the ocean.” Before he could say anymore, the alarm on my phone chimed. “They’ll be here any minute.”

  Jude stood and stretched, his shirt rising just enough for me to see the lowest star on his torso. He rubbed his stomach. “Good thing jerking off burns up to fifty calories, and after tonight, I’ll have that video of you.” He grinned. “I’ll just keep it on mute.”

  “You’re disgusting, and you’re not videotaping me.”

  “Whatever you say, Sparky.”

  I went into the bathroom to retrieve my toiletries and throw my pajamas and dirty laundry back into my suitcase, but he never moved away from the table. His eyes tracked my every move, the expression on his face unreadable.

  “Are you going to stand there all day?” I asked, irritated he was staring at me, and being blatant about it. I hated being watched. Now that I knew he watched me sleep, I doubted I’d be able to get a good night’s rest with him near.

  Without a word, he moved around the room, collecting his things. It took him less than a minute. He waited for me to be done, leaning against the dresser as he continued to watch me. I zipped up my suitcase and looked at him expectantly. “What?”

  “Are you done?”

  “Yes.”

  He walked over to the phone on the nightstand and pressed a button. “We need a bellhop to room eight-eleven. Thank you.”

  I shrugged into my coat and hoisted my purse on my shoulder. And there we stood, awkwardly waiting for the bellhop. I felt his eyes on me the entire time. It seemed like
hours passed by the time there was a knock. I wheeled my carry-on toward the door when a large hand skimmed mine as he took the handle from my grip.

  “I can handle my own bag,” I argued.

  “Not so long as I’m around,” he said with a wink.

  The two sides of Jude Soren were both sexy and frustrating. Something told me there was more to him than just good looks and snarky retorts. Now I just needed to decide whether I should bother to take the time to find out what they were, or spend our time together just tolerating him.

  Chapter 7

  Jude

  Five minutes after boarding the plane was all it took to conclude that Brae definitely had some issues. Before takeoff, she pulled out every necessity she could need from her purse, which could double as a satchel. A magazine she bought in the airport, gum, mints, a small pack of tissues, hand sanitizer, eye drops, which piqued my curiosity, and even ChapStick. The small items were in a Ziploc bag, which she tucked away in the seat pocket, then she stowed the satchel under the seat in front of her.

  “Eye drops?”

  “The air is very dry in an airplane.”

  Good lord. Here we were sitting in first class, and for the first time in my adult life, the mile-high club wasn’t even a thought. Thankfully, cocktails were still available. I sipped my vodka on the rocks, feeling her eyes on me. “What?”

  “Isn’t it a bit early for hard liquor?”

  My response was to finish it in one swallow. When the flight attendant came back, I ordered a vodka with orange juice. “There, is that better?”

  Brae just rolled her eyes before she turned to look out the window.

  We didn’t say much to each other on the flight. As Brae dove into her magazine, I immediately purchased the Internet package. Besides wanting to use every minute of the long, five-plus hours to attempt to organize my affairs, I’d have to relinquish my damn phone as soon as we landed.

  “We’ll be losing our phones soon. Don’t you want to take advantage of having Wi-Fi?”

  She looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “No. Besides it being a fortune, I already tied up my loose ends.”

  Well, good for you, I quipped in my mind, but my mouth said, “Suit yourself.”

  Even though I already asked Luca to, I still shot off an email to my key people telling them I’d be unreachable for an extended period of time. I gave each of them Luca’s contact info, as well as Kyle’s. I challenged my secretary, Ruth, to bother Kyle at least ten times a day for every little non-business related decision. I didn’t care if she called him to ask if she should order sandwiches for the staff lunches or salads. If salads, with or without dressing. Should she include dessert? If yes, cookies or cake? Every question needed to be a separate phone call. By the time I got back, I wanted him pulling his hair out from Ruth’s incessant inquiries. Ruth, of course, would get a nice bonus for her assistance.

  While I was at it, my final email was to my mother. Without getting into detail, I explained, because of Kyle, I was involved in a social experiment for six weeks and couldn’t be reached. I then said if she needed anything to contact Kyle’s cell. I knew that wouldn’t sit well with her, and the moment she told my siblings they’d all be bombarding him with questions. What made that plan even better was they all spoke broken English.

  Payback, I chuckled to myself.

  As we started our descent, Brae sanitized her hands and then smoothed ChapStick over her lips in a counterclockwise motion before reversing directions. I’d never witnessed anything like it, and I had five sisters.

  With a thud, the airplane touched down at the airport in St. John. Brae’s fingernails may have left a lasting impression on my forearm as she gripped it until we came to a rolling stop. When she finally decided we were safely on the ground, she released me.

  “I’m so sorry.” She looked down at the half-moon indentations in my skin and winced. “I’m not a fan of flying.”

  “Or landing,” I teased with a wink.

  Three dings sounded and passengers started moving about. I retrieved our bags from the overhead compartment while Brae gathered her belongings under the seat.

  Felicia, the perkiest flight attendant in the sky, gave me one last flirtatious smile as we exited the plane along with other anxious vacationers.

  Hot humid air greeted us like a slap in the face. “Could she be more obvious?” Brae snorted as we walked down the stairs leading to the tarmac. “Bye, Felicia,” she added with an eye roll.

  “She was just being friendly. It’s her job.” Pulling our small carry-ons behind me, we entered the slightly air-conditioned terminal and made our way to the luggage carousel.

  “If she’s so friendly, why did she snarl at me?”

  “Maybe it’s your sunny disposition.”

  Her brow puckered for a split second before she sported the annoyed look I’d already grown accustomed to. My veiled insult must have hurt her feelings. Not wanting to start this adventure on the wrong foot, I offered a genuine smile. “I’m sorry.”

  Brae smiled in acknowledgment as we stood amongst other people. For a small airport, it was a busy place. Most likely people were escaping the cold and looking forward to relaxing. Ironic that we stood next to them as tense as a whore in church and just about as out of place. Tropical steel drum music played through the sound system, which was most likely to get visitors in the mood for what was to come.

  An older gentleman held a sign with our names printed on it. We both strolled over to him, and a warm smile spread over his lips. “Mr. Soren, Miss Daniels?”

  “Yes,” we responded simultaneously.

  “I am Pedro. Chip and Barbi would like to welcome you to St. John. We hope you’ll enjoy your time here. Once you retrieve your luggage, there will be a blue sedan waiting outside to take you to your cottage. The driver’s name is George. I am here to collect your cell phones. They will be returned to you at the end of your stay.”

  I pulled mine out, mumbling a variety of curse words in Swedish. Brae handed hers over with a smile. Kiss-ass.

  Finally, bags started dropping on the moving belt. “That’s me,” Brae said as she pointed to her large blue suitcase with a bright pink ribbon tied to the handle. She went to grab it, but I got to it first and set it down next to her before waiting for my bag.

  “Thank you.” She smiled up at me, and the look in her eyes just about knocked me over.

  “You’re welcome.” I wasn’t sure whether it was the way my words were just above a whisper or the flustered look on my face that caused our eyes to connect and hold.

  A confusing moment passed between us, and I broke the connection by turning away in haste. Spotting my suitcase, I leaned over and pulled it off the belt. An older man was next to me, trying to reach for his blue and green plaid bag. Without hesitation, I pulled his case off as well.

  “Thank you, son.” He looked to Brae, and gave me a smile. “You’re a lucky man. Hold on to her. She’s a beauty.” Rendered speechless, I just looked at him. “You kids here on your honeymoon?”

  Brae stepped closer and placed her hand on my arm, clearly not wanting to disappoint the man. “No, just a vacation.” The way her fingers flexed on my skin followed by her glorious smile made me almost forget the real reason we were on the island.

  “You’ll love it here. This is where my wife and I came to celebrate our anniversary, marking each decade with new memories. Unfortunately, my Luanna passed just before the holidays, but I couldn’t bear to cancel the trip. This would have been our fiftieth anniversary. Luanna would have wanted me to come.” His voice trailed off as if recalling a memory, one I was sure involved his late wife.

  A lump formed in my throat. Brae released my arm and wrapped the man in a quick hug. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  The old man smiled at us. “Thank you. Well, I better go, but you two enjoy this time together. Believe me, this island is magical.”

  We stood and watched his plaid case disappear out the door. Not knowing what
else to say, I turned to Brae, noticing her eyes filled with tears. “Let’s go find our ride.”

  She wiped her now damp cheeks. “Okay.”

  Brae

  Blue water, white sand, palm trees, and silence. Tranquility was just what I needed after the hustle and bustle of city life. Ever since meeting the older gentleman at the airport, Jude had been particularly quiet. Not that I minded the peace, but for some reason it was worrisome.

  When we first got in the car, I observed everything was opposite of how it was in the states and got a bit nervous. “Why do they drive on the left side of the road?” Maybe that question would break the ice since all Jude had been doing was staring out the window.

  Jude mumbled, “Because it was previously owned by Denmark.”

  The driver, George, chimed in, “And because of the donkeys.” I caught his smiling reflection in the rearview mirror and smiled back. When I glanced at Jude, he just shook his head.

  “Donkeys?” I scooched toward the edge of the seat, trying to get closer to the front.

  “Yes. Island folk will tell you that before there were cars, donkeys were the mode of transportation. They traveled on the left side of the road. So, when motor vehicles came to the island, they were forced to drive in the same direction to avoid hitting the animals.”

  “Wow, what a cool story.” I looked at Jude. “Isn’t that a great story? So much better than Denmark.”

  “Sparky, it’s folklore. The real answer is because of the Danish.”

  “Well, I like George’s explanation better.” I smiled at George.

  “Yes, we will blame the asses,” Jude chortled, sarcasm thick in his tone.

  “Isn’t Denmark near Sweden?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Oh,” I drawled with a grin. “You meant the asses with tails.”

  Jude finally laughed. “Smartass.”

  George tossed me a wink and I relaxed in my seat, relishing in the fact that I got one up on Jude.

  The place where we were going to be living for the next six weeks wasn’t exactly what I had expected. I had a feeling Jude felt the same way since he stood stock-still, staring at the small white home.