by Robyn Neeley
And, damn it, Becca needed him. He pushed back his chair. I’m the CEO. If I want to lid dip, who’s going to stop me? He pulled off his suit jacket and yanked off his tie, throwing both on the sofa.
“Done working?” Gavin asked.
Grayson rolled up his sleeves. “Actually, I’m just getting started—and you’re coming with me.”
• • •
Becca adjusted her jacket’s collar and stepped into the crowded cafeteria. After leaving Grayson’s office, she had bumped into Tom and Bill, who’d been quick to invite her to lunch.
Under normal circumstances she would have politely declined—really, under normal circumstances they wouldn’t have even given her the time of day, let alone invited her to sit with them and have lunch—but thanks to the liquid encouragement Grayson had supplied her with earlier, she’d accepted their invitation before she could reel it back in.
She headed for the salad bar, loading up her mixed greens with brightly colored vegetables, a little feta cheese, and light oil. She’d eat fast and then politely excuse herself, telling them that she was really needed on the production line. That wasn’t a lie. Franco was surely going nuts right about now without Coop.
“Becca, over here.” Tom waved.
She pasted on her best smile. Both Tom and Bill had already dug into their hot sandwiches. “Thank you for inviting me,” she said, not really sure if she should sit in the empty seat next to Tom or the one on Bill’s side.
“Sit right here.” Bill stood and pulled out a chair, making her decision for her. “We’ve been talking about your presentation all morning. Your idea was brilliant.”
She sat down and unscrewed the bottled water she’d also purchased. Should she ’fess up that Grayson’s roommate was really the mastermind behind it?
Tom bit into a chip. “How long have you and Grayson been working on this idea to sell our product to restaurants?”
“Grayson?” She picked up her fork and dived into her salad, spearing a cucumber. The sooner she ate, the sooner she could leave. “He wasn’t involved.”
“Really?”
“No. One of my line production workers had the idea for expanding into restaurants after tasting my dip, and I guess we kind of ran with it.”
“Hmm. That’s interesting,” Tom said, eyeing Bill.
“What’s interesting?” For the love of God, this cafeteria was nothing but an insider’s club. Did she really want to be a member?
Tom took another bite of his sandwich, bringing his napkin to his lips. “It’s just that Grayson asked the research team to pull some restaurant figures two weeks ago. The poor guys gave up their entire weekend to get what he needed together, and they ran the research by me to make sure it was presented the way Grayson normally prefers it. He’s an Excel kind of guy. Some of those charts were in your presentation.”
She froze in her seat. Tom had to be mistaken. Coop had told her he’d pulled most of his research from a basic Internet search. Why hadn’t she thought to press him? Were he and Grayson working together?
She set her fork down, having suddenly lost her appetite.
“Excuse me. It was so nice chatting with you both, but I should get back to the plant.” She pushed back her chair and stood. Picking up her tray, she said a quick good-bye.
As she disposed of her lunch and left the cafeteria, uneasiness rumbled in her stomach.
Had Grayson and Coop played her?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Becca turned down the tree-lined street, pulling up to the third condo on the right. She’d gotten her truck back an hour ago and thankfully it was running smoothly. She shoved Blue Baby into park and glanced out the window.
They were at 2489 Beaumont Lane. Grayson’s home.
She started to get out but stopped. Was she ready to ask him if he knew about her and Coop’s plans in advance?
When she’d returned to the factory from lunch, she’d been shocked to see Grayson working the line with Franco. She’d marched over to confront him, but he wasn’t alone—Gavin was lidding dip, too.
Their eyes had met, and Grayson flashed her his sexy smile. She’d had every intention of pulling him aside, but he had taken the opportunity to announce to her employees that she’d knocked her presentation out of the park.
Yes, she had nailed it and was damn proud of her ability to hold her own in the boardroom. His announcement had led to a round of applause across the floor. Even if he’d supplied the research, she was the one who had delivered the new idea with passion.
She’d be lying if she didn’t admit to a rush when Grayson and the marketing team started talking over each other on how great the idea was.
Still, she needed to cowgirl up, as Tangie would say, and ask Grayson to his face how much he knew about her proposal, and whether he’d given Coop the research to put in it.
She pulled down her visor and checked her hair and makeup. She’d put on one of her short floral dresses and her expensive cowboy boots, hair down and wavy. If she was about to call him out and start World War III, she was going to look sexy while doing it.
Flipping the visor back up, she glanced over at his condo. Grayson was cooking for her behind that dark oak door. Maybe his supplying Coop with some figures wasn’t really a big deal. What if Coop had asked him for help? Perhaps Grayson planned on telling her after the presentation, but then one thing led to another, and before he knew it she was straddling him on his office couch, so in a way, his not telling her could have been her fault.
She grinned, thinking back to the moment she slid onto his lap. Grayson had done something meaningful today. She picked up the tiny hourglass figure she’d set in her cup holder, twirling it with her fingers. He’d given her his heart, if she believed, like Eleanor, that was what the figure symbolized. It had to mean something, didn’t it?
She grabbed her purse and got out of the truck, her boots clunking on the pavement as she made the short walk to his front door. Within seconds the door flew open and he scooped her into his arms, his lips on hers in no time.
And damn, the man knew how to kiss. She snaked her arms around his neck as their tongues continued what they’d started earlier today.
When they finally broke apart, Grayson looped one of her curls around his finger. “I hope you’re hungry, because dinner’s almost ready.”
“I’m starving.” She brushed her lips over his and unraveled her arms. Maybe they could eat and do a little more kissing before she brought up what she’d learned at lunch. Having only eaten half a salad all day, she was famished.
His kitchen was exactly how she’d pictured it, with his stainless-steel appliances and a matching prep island. A modern bachelor’s kitchen.
It also smelled amazing, causing her stomach to growl. From the aroma alone, it appeared that Grayson had some cooking skills. Impressive.
She pulled out a bar stool and sat down, sliding her purse off her shoulder and setting it on the island. Grayson reached for a bottle of red wine on the counter, pouring her a glass. Handing it to her, he picked up his wine and lifted it in the air. “To today, and to many more genius ideas to impact Guac Olé’s bottom line.”
She brought her glass toward his until their rims touched. “Cheers.” She gulped and took a sip. Maybe now instead of during dinner was the time to ask about the research. “Grayson, about the meeting—”
He set his glass down and then hers, his finger touching her lips. “I know I brought it up, but let’s not talk about work tonight.” He pulled her off the stool and cupped her face, his gorgeous blue eyes gazing into hers. “Deal?” he asked, while lowering his mouth to hers.
“Okay. Deal,” she whispered back, enjoying the sensation of his mouth back on hers.
Just then, the kitchen timer went off. He tapped her chin and maneuvered to the stove.
As he finished the linguini and penne vodka sauce, she offered to toss the salad he’d put together.
And they had a lot of fun chatting as she diced the tomatoes a
nd mixed the greens while he sliced the garlic bread. They talked about their favorite football teams and what they liked to watch on television. She wouldn’t have pegged Grayson as a couch potato, but he seemed to have his guilty indulgences, including Macy’s reality music competition.
And their light conversation continued in his dining room over a candlelit dinner.
True to his word, they didn’t talk about the company, but when he opened the second bottle of wine, she mustered the courage to bring up the research.
It was why she was here, after all.
Okay, that was a total lie. She was here because at this very minute there was no place else in Sweet Ridge she wanted to be.
Still, she needed to ask the question.
“So.” She traced the rim of her wineglass with her finger. “I don’t know if you heard, but I had lunch with Bill and Tom today.”
“You did?” He grinned, seemingly okay that she’d broken their earlier deal. “See. You’re becoming part of the team already.” He set his napkin down and reached for his wine. “Don’t let Tom talk you into going to any rodeos. The man lives for them on the weekends.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Her smile was quivering, but she had to ask the next question. “They did share something fascinating with me.”
“What was that?” he asked, pushing his chair back. His expression was more than a little curious.
“That you had requested data on restaurants within the Southeast region from your research team earlier this month, and that some of that data was in the presentation.” She paused and took a sip of her wine. “But that can’t be possible, since you only saw the proposal this morning. Right?”
He stared at her blankly for a few seconds—and then a few more.
Oh God. He’d supplied those facts and figures.
“I can explain.”
And by the look on his face, it wasn’t as innocent as Coop asking for them.
She wanted to hear his explanation, but then it would ruin an otherwise perfect end to a perfect day. Damn him. Her throat constricted, and she needed air. Standing, she set her napkin down on her plate. “You know what? I don’t want to hear it. Thank you for this lovely meal. I really should be going.” She retrieved her purse from where she’d left it in the kitchen, not looking into the dining room as she hightailed it straight for the door.
By the time she got there, Grayson was right behind her. “Becca. Please don’t go. There’s something I need to tell you.”
She spun around in her boots, standing her ground. It was no small feat with him inches away, his eyes burning into hers. “What?” she demanded, trying to ignore his delicious, musky scent swirling around her.
Grayson moved closer, reaching for her hand and lacing it with his. “That I haven’t felt this way in a very long time. That I don’t want this night to end.” He brought her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “That I want you.”
And those “thats” did it. She looped her arms around his neck, kissing him hard, his hands lost in her hair.
He was the first to break apart, but only to sweep her up off her feet. She kissed and nipped his neck as he carried her upstairs and into his bedroom.
He set her down, bringing her into his arms. “Becca,” he whispered into her ear, “I want to explain everything.”
She slowly unbuttoned his shirt, sliding her hands up and down his chest. Yeah, they needed to talk—and they would—but right now she was done fighting what she wanted, what she’d wanted since their dance at the Founders’ Day weekend celebration.
That desire caused her to turn around and lift up her hair. He took the signal and unzipped her dress, his hands massaging her bare shoulders, followed by his lips on her neck.
She turned and they kissed before he picked her up, laying her gently on his bed.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Grayson ran his hands down her legs, gently tugging on one of her boots.
“To take off my Lucchese?” she asked, all innocently.
He finally managed to yank both off, setting them on the floor. “Among other items …”
He removed his shirt and pants, sliding on top of her.
His smoldering eyes were all the encouragement she needed to wrap her legs around him, tracing his jawline with her fingertips.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with stubble before.” She patted his face. “Definitely the start of a five o’clock shadow.”
He reached for her hand and kissed a finger and then another one. “I’ve been thinking of growing a beard.”
“Like Coop?”
He pulled her close, pressing her into his erection while his hands unhooked her black satin bra and removed it from her shoulders. “Let’s not talk about Coop tonight.”
That was fine by her. Grayson cupped her breast, causing her to arch her back and let out a moan. She reached for his boxers, moving them down and wrapping her hand around his hard length.
He let out his own sounds of pleasure before kissing her harder this time. “Do you even know what you do to me?” he asked while running his fingers through her hair.
Yeah. She was starting to get the idea, and the feeling was more than mutual. “I’d like to find out,” she whispered while rubbing against his erection.
He kissed her again before leaning over to his nightstand. She took that moment to sit up and massage his broad shoulders while he opened the drawer and grabbed a foil package.
How was any of this happening? She was about to have sex with Grayson Cooper. She smiled widely, knowing he couldn’t see it.
As he maneuvered to the side to put the condom on, she couldn’t resist running her hands down his backside, resting on his soft hips.
Did he have love handles? Not that she minded—at all. But he was known around town for his solid abs. Maybe he’d overindulged on this vacation.
She smiled as he turned and slid back on top of her. She knew one way she could help him get rid of them if he was interested in restoring his six-pack.
He palmed her breasts, taking one into his mouth and then the other. She grabbed onto his back, needing him inside her. “Grayson, now.”
He took that verbal cue and slid off her panties. With one motion he entered her, their bodies syncing in no time as waves of ecstasy slammed into her over and over.
When they both finally hit the pillows, she stared up at his dark ceiling. “Wow. That was …”
“Yeah, it was.”
She turned, and he brushed her bangs to the side before giving her a soft kiss. “I’m going to go grab us some water. Can I get you anything else? Chips and guac?”
“I’m good.” She bit her lip, checking out Grayson’s fine, naked butt as he left the room. She grinned and grabbed his pillow, wrapping her arms around it. They still needed to talk, but helping him work off those vacation love handles seemed like a much better way to spend the rest of this evening.
• • •
Grayson flipped over the blueberry pancake, unable to stop smiling. Light footsteps upstairs indicated his beautiful guest had awakened and would be joining him soon.
He’d let her sleep in because after the evening they’d had, it was the least he could do.
Last night had been awesome, leaving them both spent. Yeah, he’d been pretty confident that they’d end up exactly where they did, but what he hadn’t expected was how absolutely perfect it had been, and not just the sex, although that had been off the charts. Cuddling with her afterward had been new for him, and he couldn’t wait to do it all over again.
He slid a spatula underneath the finished pancake, flicking it onto a stacked plate next to him. While she laid asleep in his arms, he realized he was falling hard, and if he had any chance with her, he was going to have to be honest about not only the research but the disguise, as well. He wasn’t sure how exactly to explain it in a way that wouldn’t cause her to bolt for his front door again, though. Reaching for his knife, he pushed it t
hrough some margarine and buttered each pancake.
“What is that amazing smell?” Becca entered the kitchen. He loved that she was dressed in the white T-shirt and boxers he’d set out for her. He wasn’t ready to see her back in her dress and boots, leaving his condo, just yet.
“Only the best breakfast in all of Sweet Ridge—besides anything on Betty Lou’s menu, of course.” He pulled out a stool, motioning for her to sit. “Orange juice?”
She smiled and brought her messy, wavy hair to the side. He was more than a little responsible for those sexy tangles, unable to stop running his hands through them last night.
“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble, Grayson.”
“It’s no trouble at all.” He reached over and touched her cheek with his knuckle. He needed her to know that last night was more than a one-night stand. At least it was for him. He hoped she felt the same way. Grabbing the syrup bottle, he turned it upside down on her plate, giving it a squeeze. “My mom’s recipe. Enjoy.’
Becca picked up a fork and took a bite, closing her eyes. “These pancakes are incredible.”
“Thank you. My mom liked to cook, but she died in a car accident when I was young so I didn’t learn from her. She left recipes, though. Our nanny showed us how to make most of the meals in this box.” He reached for the small blue recipe container that his father had given him years ago. “It’s dumb, but making those recipes I think helped. Like Mom was right there with us.”
She set her fork down and reached for the box still in his hand. “I don’t think that’s dumb at all. Plain objects can hold many memories.”
“You think so?”
She nodded. “I really do.”
“You know, my dad left us boys small objects.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah. Not exactly what we were expecting. Gavin was left a pair of reading glasses and Gage a key. I got a key chain. We’re not sure why he gave us each of those items, but Gage thinks tha—”
Becca’s phone buzzed, interrupting their conversation. He took a sip of his orange juice and attacked his own pancakes while she took the call.
