Temporary To Tempted (The Bachelor Pact Book 2)

by Jessica Lemmon

  “Sure thing.” Shelly was petite, wearing a ball cap with her ponytail sticking out of the back. Her lashes were thick, and her lips were shiny with gloss. Cute as she was, he didn’t plan on asking her out. Even though she was his type, from her shapely calves to her low-cut V-necked T-shirt with the bar’s gold-and-red emblem on it. Even though she’d been offering her smiles freely and borderline flirting back with him, Gage wasn’t feeling it.

  His best buddy Flynn and Sabrina, his other best buddy turned Flynn’s girlfriend, had taken off a few minutes ago. Gage hung around at From Afar, finishing his beer after a long week and what felt like a longer workday.

  He’d been friends with Flynn, Sabrina and Reid—who wasn’t in the country at the moment—since college. Sabrina being in the mix was nothing new. Her being in love with Flynn and vice versa: totally new.

  Gage had said yes to the after-work beer, not thinking it’d be any different than any other hangout they’d had before. It had been different, though, since the couple couldn’t keep their hands or eyes on anything in the room but each other. But he couldn’t begrudge his friends. A few months back, Flynn and Sabrina had slipped from the friend zone to the in-zone. Flynn was the happiest he’d been in a long while.

  “Here you go, sweetheart.” The cute blonde winked at him and moved away to greet another patron.

  If he wasn’t mistaken, that lifting feeling in his chest was relief at his decision not to dance the dance with her. Flirting was easy—hell, second nature—to him. Asking her out wouldn’t be an issue. He had it down. He’d heard yes more times than no, and often heard “Yes!” shouted with exuberance later the same night in his bed.

  Over the past few weeks, however, he’d noticed he was tired of the game. Going out on a few dates, a round or three of spectacular sex (or okay sex—but even okay sex was pretty damn good), and then finding his way out before things progressed to anything serious... If they got that far. Lately, he’d grown tired of the awkward parting in the middle of the night or the next morning. Tired of the walk of shame.

  Thirty years old was too young to be this jaded.

  You’re just tired after a long week. Don’t analyze it to death.

  He leaned forward to pull his wallet from his back pocket, ready to pay and take his gloomy self home, when he noticed a stunning vision striding toward him. He froze, the scene unfolding in slow motion.

  Strawberry blond hair washed over slim shoulders in a waterfall of color, bright against the narrow black sheath dress draped over her slender form. Electric blue eyes flashed with determination. She was long-limbed, her walk confident, and her full pink mouth was set in a firm, unsmiling line. One eyebrow was arched and she homed in on him like he was the target and she was a missile.

  With his next breath, his libido returned. Lust slammed into his solar plexus and dried out his mouth.

  Which made no sense.

  In those heels, in that dress and with no smile to speak of, it was obvious he was in the presence of a way-too-serious woman. He’d had a close call with a woman like this one in his past, and he’d since decided that cute, bubbly bartenders were more his style.

  Even so. Intrigued and more than a bit curious, he shoved his wallet back into his pocket when it became clear that this striking woman was coming right for him.

  This one, he’d dance with. If only to shake things up a bit.

  He’d buy her a drink, turn on the Fleming charm and see what happened. It’d been a while since a woman had snagged this much of his attention. Whether it was the strawberry blonde’s determination or the set of her small shoulders, he couldn’t be sure, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off her. How could anyone look that damned delicate and at the same time like she ate nails for breakfast?

  He didn’t know. But he was going to find out. Something told him that she’d be worth it, no matter the cost.

  “Shelly, I’ll have another IPA after all,” he said to the bartender, and as the strawberry blonde placed a manicured hand on the back of the bar stool next to him, he smoothly added, “and whatever she’s having.”

  “You got it.” Shelly dipped her chin at the strawberry blonde. “What’ll it be?”

  Strawberry yanked her gaze from Gage, her expression almost shocked that the bartender was talking to her. “Um. Chardonnay.”

  Shelly fetched their drinks and Gage turned to greet his guest, pulling the stool out for her to sit.

  “No. Thanks,” she replied coolly, almost like the “thanks” part was an afterthought.

  Instinct told him that she wasn’t as cool and calm as she pretended to be. If she was actually the man-eater she portrayed, she’d look him in the eye right now. Instead, she appeared to be steeling herself for some sort of proposition. Maybe she’d had a bad breakup, needed a little rebound.

  That he could do.

  “Can’t enjoy your chardonnay without having a seat,” he replied easily, patting the stool with one hand. Her eyebrows slammed down over her pert nose and she pegged him with an expression that bordered on fury.

  A zap! hit him low in the gut. A warning drowned out by intense curiosity.

  Let’s tangle, honey.

  A glass of chardonnay and a bottle of beer appeared in front of him, and without breaking away from her fiery blue gaze, he handed over the wine. Strawberry’s nostrils flared, but she took the glass, tipped it to her lips and had sucked down a third of it by the time he’d lifted his bottle.

  Yep. She was definitely here on a mission.

  She set the glass down with a loud clink. “I’ll pay you two thousand dollars to spend a weekend with me.”

  Gage lowered his beer without taking a sip. His mouth was poised to say the word what but he didn’t have a chance to say anything before she was opening her purse and showing him the contents. Stacks of twenties were packed into it, facing every which way like she’d robbed a convenience store before propositioning him.

  “I’m attending a destination wedding in the Midwest in two weeks. Your flight and separate room will be paid in full. I’ll give you two thousand dollars to go with me.”

  Just as he’d settled on the notion that this beautiful creature was certifiably insane, a flicker of doubt lit her expressive eyes.

  “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for the duration. I know Ohio doesn’t sound scenic, but Crown is a beautiful, quaint town. And there will be food,” she added with a touch of desperation. “Really good food.”

  Her throat moved as she swallowed thickly, her outer layer of surety and confidence flaking away.

  Seemed he was right about her being on a mission, but damn, he’d been wrong about her not being a man-eater. She was so similar to his ex, he wouldn’t be surprised if she pulled off a mask to reveal Laura herself.

  He took a long slug of his beer and then swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. This woman was either crazy or desperate or both. Figured. He should’ve known a woman this beautiful would be nuttier than a sack of trail mix.

  “Well?” Her eyebrow arched again, her too-serious expression snapping seamlessly into place. “I don’t have much time, so I’d appreciate an answer.”

  Was she for real?

  He’d never imagined she’d march over here and demand to...to...hire him to be her date, let alone expect him to agree without so much as a casual introduction. For all he knew, she would lure him in with promises and then steal his identity.

  Or my kidneys.

  The answer was an easy no, but he wouldn’t let her off the hook without making her explain first. He opened the edge of her purse with his index finger so he could examine the cash inside as he pretended to consider her offer.

  “How will payment work? You just hand me all the money in your purse and then I give you my phone number?”

  “No. Of course not.” She snatched her bag out of his reach. “Then I’d have no gu
arantee you’d show up. I’d give it to you at the wedding.”

  “Why would I clear my weekend plans and fly with you to Ohio on a promise of two thousand dollars if I don’t have any of it?”

  A frown muddled her pretty face. “You can have half. But I need your phone number. And your address. And your word.”

  Unbelievably gorgeous and absolutely crackers. It was a shame.

  “But I need your answer now.”

  “Right now.” His gaze locked on her pink mouth and he had a moment of regret for not getting to have a taste of her lips. To feel how silky that red hair was against his fingertips. He lifted his beer bottle, delaying. The kissing and fingers in her hair were an impossibility but his curiosity to watch her reaction still burned. He was trying to decide what she would do when he said no. Would she slap him or scream at him or run from the bar?

  “Yes, now,” she said through her teeth.

  Damn. Maybe he could convince her to stick around after he shot her down.

  “I can’t help you out, Strawberry. I don’t particularly like the Midwest. And despite what first impression I must’ve given you, I don’t need two thousand dollars. But if you’d like to finish your wine—”

  That long swath of hair flicked as she turned on her heel and tromped toward the exit. Option C it was. She left behind a plume of softly scented perfume and a fantasy that lasted the rest of the week. One about long, silky hair and a parted pink mouth. About her beneath him naked atop those bills scattered over his bed...

  Whoever she was, she left an impression. The way looking at the sun left bright light burning behind his lids for a while.

  Gage turned back to his beer. Even though Strawberry was a little nutty, he honestly hoped she found a date to that wedding in Ohio.

  Three

  “Today’s the day.”

  Gage rubbed his hands together and then fired up the espresso machine in the executive break room.

  “What day’s that?” Reid, back from his recent trip home to London, asked.

  “The day that Andy Payne guy comes to save Gage’s rear end,” Sabrina answered as she tipped the half-and-half into her mug.

  “Not my rear. Our rears,” Gage corrected. “This is going to help boost sales, yes, but this will also take some of the pressure off Flynn.” He grinned at Sabrina. “You’re welcome.”

  Last year Gage had come up with the perfect solution for the senior staff at Monarch Consulting, who had been giving Flynn holy hell. When Flynn’s father died, leaving Flynn in charge of the company, a lot of the men and women who were used to the way Emmons had run things hadn’t taken too kindly to Flynn. Gage’s suggestion—brilliant suggestion—was to focus on sales, create a huge boom in business, which would satisfy shaky investors and give a needed boost to everyone’s bonuses. It was hard to complain when extra money rolled in.

  “Oh, I’m welcome, am I?” Sabrina chuckled.

  “If it’s gratitude you want, mate, just ask,” Reid commented.

  Gage didn’t want gratitude, but he did want results. The company had felt as if it was teetering on a foundation of marbles last year and he hadn’t liked it at all. Monarch Consulting was the workplace Gage had called home since college. He didn’t want to work anywhere else. He loved what he did, loved his friends and in no way wanted to end up working at a fish hatchery like his parents. Flynn’s success as president ensured all of their successes.

  Flynn stepped into the room, picking up on the conversation. “Let me guess. You have your panties in a wad of excitement over the arrival of the guy made of smoke?”

  The guy who was the key to stabilizing Monarch, bringing in extra money and a business boom?

  Hell, yes.

  Andy Payne was a fixer of sorts who was known for not being known. He’d been interviewed but never filmed, and his About page was devoid of a photo or any description of him as a person. Gage wasn’t sure if he bought into the hero-worship BS surrounding Andy Payne’s reputation, but the man’s results were rock solid. Every employee had signed nondisclosure documents before Payne’s arrival.

  Plus, if this Andy guy was half as good in person as he was on paper, Monarch would be set and Flynn’s leadership would go unchallenged. Succeeding was the only option. Gage had never taken a backwards step since he’d set foot in Monarch and he wouldn’t start now. He had goals to double the company’s revenue, and making his sales department shine would tuck in nicely with that goal.

  It was a big goal, but Andy Payne was a big deal. With his help there wasn’t anything standing in Gage’s way.

  * * *

  Andy strolled into the Monarch building wearing her best suit. Bone-colored, with a silky black cami under the jacket, her Jimmy Choos an easy-to-navigate height. She had to work in them, after all.

  She’d never understood any woman’s desire to sacrifice form for comfort. She wasn’t a fan of compromise.

  Andy hadn’t accepted her fate from the weekend, either. Yes, she’d quit the dating app that’d been a total waste of resources. And, yes, she had felt the sting of embarrassment about propositioning a handsome stranger at a bar, but that didn’t mean her search was over. There was still a chance, though slim, to find a stand-in date. Maybe she would meet a nice guy on her way out of this very building. Or maybe at the resort.

  Doubt pushed itself forward but she fervently ignored it. Instead she allowed herself to feel the familiar thrum of excitement as she rode the elevator up to the executive floor. First days were her favorite.

  She’d done extensive research on Monarch, noting that the only photo of the staff was one gathered outside the front of this very building, their faces tiny and nondescript. If businesses were to entrust Monarch with their well-being, they needed to see the trustworthy faces who worked here.

  Unlike most businesses, Andy had worked hard to keep her identity under wraps. She had no qualms about pulling a bait and switch on day one. By then everyone was invested and her reputation had preceded her. She never blatantly led her clients to believe Andy Payne was male, but much like the assumption that a surgeon was always a man, so, too, was one made that the wild success of her Fortune 500 business must be attributed to someone with a penis instead of a pair of breasts.

  The pay gap that existed between men and women didn’t exist for her, thanks to her subterfuge. Her clients paid what was asked, and it was too late to pull the plug once the contracts were signed. She wouldn’t apologize for it.

  She was absolutely worth it.

  She was the best at what she did and she endeavored to leave every business better than she’d found it. Monarch was going to be another link in a long chain of satisfied customers.

  With a flip of her hair she exited the elevator on the executive floor. Three huge offices with glass walls stood empty, a front desk staffed with a young blonde woman in front of one of them. Andy was early, so probably the executives hadn’t come out of the coffee or break room yet. Muted voices and laughter came from an unseen room in the back.

  One of those voices likely belonged to Gage, the senior sales executive who’d hired her.

  “May I help you?” the assistant asked.

  Andy addressed her by her name, advertised on the nameplate on the front of her desk. “Hello, Yasmine. Andy Payne for Gage Fleming.”

  “Andy Payne?”

  “That’s me.” She grinned.

  “Oh, of course, Ms. Payne. We have you set up in the conference room as you requested.”

  Yasmine quickly recovered from her surprise at discovering that Andy was a woman. Good for her.

  In the conference room, Yasmine pointed out the projector and offered to fetch Andy an espresso.

  “Americano, if you can.”

  The other woman dipped her chin in affirmation and left.

  Andy unloaded her bag on the table—a rigorous sales plan and a d
ossier on Monarch minus details on the man she was meeting, since she’d learned virtually nothing about him via the website.

  Done right, they could implement her suggested changes in the week and a half she had before she would have to fly to Ohio for Gwen’s wedding.

  Gag. Just the thought of that bit of unfinished business rankled her.

  But Gage Fleming had hired Andy on her merits at business, not based on whether or not she was datable. She shoved aside all thoughts of the wedding and focused on what she did most—what she did best—fixing companies.

  Flynn and Sabrina left the haven of the break room, Gage and Reid following behind. On their walk to their offices, Gage asked Reid, “How was your trip?”

  His British friend, coffee mug lifted, grinned. “Grand.”

  “Because of...”

  “Suzie Daniels. A pretty American in a foreign land who needed companionship from a local who was willing to show her a good time.” Reid rested his palm over his heart. “I showed her repeatedly. Lucky lady.”

  Gage had to chuckle. Reid was a playboy and a half, but he was also a nice guy. No doubt Suzie Daniels had kissed him farewell and hadn’t regretted a single minute of their time together. Gage hadn’t been as fortunate with his past hookups. He must throw off a serious boyfriend vibe. The women he dated always wanted more, always wanted it too quickly and weren’t happy when he declined. The last woman he dated had told him he’d wasted her time and said she wished she’d never met him. Ouch.

  “And your weekend?” Reid asked, stopping next to Gage’s office.

  “Went to From Afar with Flynn and Sabrina on Friday night for a drink after work. After they left, the strangest thing...” Gage fell silent when he spotted a flash of red hair in the conference room. And when her head lifted slightly and he caught sight of her profile, he recognized her instantly.

  She was the woman who’d attempted to buy him like a suit off a rack. The more he’d thought about that interaction the more it had bothered him. Not because he felt cheap or used, but because the beauty who’d invaded his dreams had truly believed the money was going to seal the deal with them. As if she didn’t have enough confidence to strike up a conversation about what she needed, but instead felt the need to offer him cash.