One Night, White Lies (The Bachelor Pact Book 3)

by Jessica Lemmon

  “That was...thoughtful.” Andy’s blue eyes broadcast her suspicion, but then she blinked and it vanished like it’d never been there. “Well, I should go. Drew, great seeing you.”

  “You, too.”

  Andy whisked away, and Reid slipped his laptop into his bag, whistling as he locked up his booth with quick efficiency.

  “Do you think she figured us out?” Drew murmured, eyes glued to the aisle where Andy had vanished.

  “Do I think she saw us here, outside the Monarch booth, and assumed we spent the night in various stages of nakedness interspersed with champagne and bathroom counter sex? No. I do not think she figured us out.”

  Drew opened her mouth to tell him his smart-ass comments weren’t appreciated, but he grabbed her and kissed her soundly before she could. She fisted his button-down shirt to shove him away but then ended up pulling him in as she enjoyed the firm feel of his lips on hers.

  Mmm. He was addicting.

  He ended the kiss and dropped another brief peck on the center of her mouth. “Now, if I’d done that, I do think she’d have suspected something. Also, what’d you mean when you told her you were relieved it was her? Who did you think I was talking with?”

  “No one.”

  “Drew.”

  “I like when you say my name in ecstasy, but not in that scolding tone.”

  He reminded silent. Waiting.

  Dammit.

  “My ex didn’t waste any time hooking up with someone else after our breakup, okay?” She lifted her arms and dropped them at her sides again.

  “No. It’s not okay.”

  “You’re right. It’s not. After that, I spent a lot of time believing I’m replaceable. I guess seeing you turn your flirt-o-meter up to eleven made me a little... concerned.”

  His eyebrows rose. “You mean jealous.”

  “Concerned. For myself.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Take that smirk off your face, Singleton, or I’ll remove it for you.”

  “Promises, promises.” He nuzzled her nose with his, the scent of his cologne tickling her senses and doing a good job of making her forget why she was upset.

  “Did you decide on what to have for dinner?” He released her, and she missed being in his arms instantly.

  That wasn’t good.

  She’d have to figure out how to have a casual affair since she’d never had one before. The trick would be walking away without developing feelings for Reid. And now, thanks to Andy’s surprise visit, she’d also have to practice not looking as guilty when her brother inevitably brought up her running into Reid.

  “Italian? Indian? Burgers and fries?” The man occupying her thoughts ducked into view, and she realized she’d spaced out for a second.

  “Wherever is fine.”

  He shook his head. “You’re a foodie. ‘Wherever’ is not fine.”

  Okay, he had a point. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea to go to dinner with him, especially since she knew she’d end up in his bed afterward. But he was so...yummy. Plus she liked that he was standing there waiting for her answer, like what she said would alter the course of his evening. That kind of power was heady.

  “Masala is good, and it’s four blocks from here. We can walk. I need to drop off my stuff at my room first. Meet you there?”

  “Meet me there? Good God, woman, who besides that asshole chef have you been dating? I’ll take your things up to my room. We can walk together.” He gestured for her leather bag. “I was thinking about how inconveniently located your room is from here. Why not stay with me for the remainder of the conference?”

  “Wh-what?”

  “You heard me. I have plans for us. You’re not going to be in your room anyway. Just check out on Sunday and Christina’s boss will be none the wiser. We’ve agreed to spend these days together, so might as well spend them together.”

  Everything sounded so good when he said it. Even—gulp—what translated loosely into moving in together. A little prickle of concern tickled the back of her mind, but she shoved it away. Staying in the same hotel room with Reid wasn’t the same as embarking on a yearlong relationship destined to end in disaster. When Sunday came, they’d return to their separate lives in the same big city and everything would go back to the way it was before they slept together. She’d see to it.

  Just because she’d had a Devin Briggs flashback a few minutes ago was no reason not to have fun with Reid. Besides, they were nothing alike. Reid didn’t have OCD, wasn’t temper-prone and didn’t order her around. She didn’t count his insisting on walking her to her hotel, or the sexy, commanding tone he’d used when they were having sex in front of the mirror. That was more about him taking care of her needs than throwing his weight around.

  “Masala it is,” Reid said. “I’ll run your bag upstairs.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “Oh, you will, will you?”

  “I’d like to move my legs. Other than fetching a sandwich from the food cart, I haven’t had a chance to raise my heart rate.”

  “Love, I can think of many more fun ways to raise your heart rate.” He sent her a foxy wink, shouldering her bag as they walked to the elevators.

  He wasn’t wrong. That wink alone had elevated her heart rate better than power walking or taking the stairs.

  “But you can’t seduce me yet,” he told her as they stepped into the elevator. “I deserve a nice night out, I’ve been stuck in my room since I arrived. I won’t let you keep me there like some kind of sex slave.”

  “Me?” she asked as the doors swished shut. “You were the one who was all ‘my room or yours.’”

  “First, I do not sound like that.”

  He didn’t. Her British accent was rubbish.

  “Second, I want to talk. We’ve a lot of history to catch up, you and me.” He winked again. So sexy.

  “What if Andy sees us?” she asked, her concern returning.

  “It’s a big city. Plus I wasn’t planning on shagging on the table when we went out.”

  She snorted.

  “Do you always snort when you laugh?” He smiled at her, and she realized that she really liked when he smiled at her. There was something possessive behind it, and yet that possession didn’t make her feel smothered.

  “That was embarrassing, and you pointed it out.”

  “It was embarrassing? I thought it was cute.”

  “Cute. I hate that word.”

  The doors opened, and he held them for her to step out. “Why?”

  “It’s nothing.” In the corridor, she turned the direction of his suite.

  “Might as well tell me. I’ll find out for sure now that I know you’re ticklish.” He swiped his key card and opened his hotel room door to reveal a room tidier than they’d left it. The maid must’ve been in. Reid dumped his bag and hers onto the couch.

  “Why do you hate the word cute?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. She didn’t exactly relish revealing her vulnerabilities. But again, something told her she was safe in sharing them with Reid.

  “I...don’t ever remember being told I was beautiful until you said it last night.”

  “I see.” His mouth pulled into a deep frown. “So you’ve not only dated assholes, but blind ones.”

  “Kind of. Yes.”

  “Well, let me be the first to dispel this ridiculous notion.” He tucked her hair behind her ear—a sweet gesture she was finding to be uniquely his. “Cute and beautiful are not mutually exclusive. You’re honestly one of the most beautiful women I’ve had the pleasure of knowing, and I don’t only mean because you have breasts that make me want to weep with joy.”

  “Boob guy,” she accused.

  “Guilty.” His serious expression didn’t waver. “But you’re also damn cute. And if you believed that ‘cute’ was an insu
lt when I said it before, I apologize and ask that you don’t hold that against me now.” He pulled her into the circle of his arms. “Your boobs, however, I encourage you to hold against me as often as possible.”

  She couldn’t resist kissing him for that, and when he kissed her back and she melted into him, she knew she was going to break her promise of going out.

  They were definitely ordering room service tonight.

  Twelve

  “How about this one?” Christina held up a frilly-necked shirt.

  “Hmm. Not doing it for me.” Drew continued sliding the hangers on the rack in search of...she didn’t know what.

  She’d returned home to Seattle from California on Sunday and now was shopping for her next soft opening. It was happening next week for a sushi restaurant named Soo-She.

  She wanted to be prepared with the right outfit for the swanky and minimalist restaurant. The food ranged from traditional raw fish sashimi to inventive new options made with grilled chicken, pork and even steak. There was a lot of buzz surrounding the restaurant because of its unique style—including several VIP floating islands and an open kitchen format that encouraged interaction with the chefs.

  Drew was searching for a shirt that complemented the restaurant: noticeable and minimalist. One that made her stand out in case the staff needed to flag her down, but also professional. A shimmery silver blouse caught her eye on the wall, and she was pulled toward it as if by a tractor beam.

  “That’s the one,” she said. “I can pair it with my knee-length slim black skirt and my Choos.”

  “It suits you. Sparkly and fun.” Christina plucked the hanger from its station and flipped over the price tag. “Also, fussily expensive.”

  “It doesn’t matter how expensive it is. I’m buying it.” Drew draped the shirt over her arm. “Along with jewelry. I’m thinking a row of silver bangles.”

  “I’m so jealous of your style. I wish I had somewhere fancy to go.” Christina pushed out her bottom lip. Drew had always thought of Chris as pretty, from the moment they’d met last year at the soft opening for the Fig & Truffle on Smithfield. Christina was a waitress at the time, and Drew had been drawn to her take-no-crap attitude. Her friend’s style had changed since then. Christina had lost the ponytail, her light brown hair now short and sassy. She favored slacks and striped blouses, and never was without her favorite accessory: a red belt.

  “You do have somewhere fancy to go. You’re coming to the opening of Soo-She, right?”

  “Alone?”

  “I’ll be there!”

  “You’ll be too busy to babysit me. Is anyone else I know going to this friends-and-family soirée that I can sit with?” They stopped at a clearance jewelry section and began rummaging. “What about Reid?”

  “What about Reid?” Drew held a pair of hoop earrings to her ear and examined them in the mirror before deciding they were too large for her face.

  “You spent several sweaty nights in the man’s arms and now you’re never going to see him again?”

  Drew gave her reflection a wan smile. The latter part of the week had been like a magical fairy tale. She’d let Reid talk her into moving her luggage to his hotel room, and they’d gone to bed together every night and woken up side by side every morning. That second night they didn’t make it out to Masala, choosing room service dinner instead, but on night three they did. They ate some of the best Indian food in the city and laughed over shared stories about Gage and Reid’s college years.

  She’d had sex with Reid every single night. And each time it was mind-blowing and all-consuming. Each time she mused how easy it would be to fall for him. Then she shut down that possibility before she did something she regretted.

  Falling for Reid Singleton wasn’t an option.

  “It doesn’t serve me to continue seeing him,” she told Christina matter-of-factly. “He isn’t looking for a girlfriend, and I don’t have time for a boyfriend.”

  A white lie. She had time, but there was no sense in entertaining a Reid-boyfriend fantasy if it wasn’t going to come to fruition.

  Christina pointed at Drew with a studded leather bracelet. “If neither of you wants a future, then it doesn’t sound like there is any risk to you sleeping together. All I’m saying is that if I could get laid on the regular without strings, I’d do it.”

  An older woman with tight gray curls grunted disapprovingly as she wheeled by with her walker.

  “Oh, like she never used up a man and spit him out,” Christina whispered to Drew. “Look at those legs. I bet she was a pistol.”

  Laughter shook Drew’s shoulders as she held up a necklace to her throat. “This would be cute with your navy-blue-and-white-striped shirt. Look, the pendant is a little anchor.”

  “And half off. Sold!” Christina snagged the necklace and then tilted her head, a look of patience or pity—or maybe both—on her face. “At least ask him to the soft opening. What could it hurt? Invite him and your brother and his fiancée. Make it a group thing. I can sit with them and then I won’t have to go by myself.”

  “Why don’t you ask Jerry from work?”

  “No.” Christina shook her head fervently. “I’m not dating right now. But I’ll be happy to grill Reid for you. Is there any intel you’d like to glean? I’ll go undercover.”

  “I’m not sure he’ll agree to come!” Drew protested, but she did so through a smile. She did want to see him again.

  “Aha! So you are asking him.”

  “Only because we have seats to fill.” Drew slipped a fat, jewel-studded bracelet onto her wrist and forgave herself yet another white lie.

  * * *

  Reid carefully removed the wee cup from the espresso maker, and the surface wobbled dangerously. He sipped the hot liquid from the edge, savoring the coffee he needed more than his next breath. He’d come home from California nearly sexed out and didn’t know what to think about that. Not only had he had more sex over the weekend than he’d ever had with one woman in a condensed period of time, but he’d had it with Drew.

  He’d returned home Sunday night and sent an email to Flynn and Gage letting them know he wouldn’t be at the office on Monday. He’d worked from home instead, catching up on email he’d been ignoring. He’d told his friends-slash-coworkers that he was behind because of the mixers and client dinners at the symposium.

  The real reason was that he’d spent every spare second over the last weekend-plus in bed with Gage’s younger sister.

  During the last night they were together Drew had once again sworn Reid to secrecy. She’d brought up the lucid argument that what was done was done and Gage would only worry about her, or worse, lecture her.

  “There’s a double standard where men are concerned in this sort of arrangement,” she’d told him.

  He thought it was complete bullshit—to use an American term—and Drew should be able to have sex with whomever she pleased for whatever reason and without judgment. At the same time, Reid also saw the situation through Gage’s point of view.

  Reid wasn’t a cad, but he had taken a vow to stay unwed for the rest of his days. Friends for over a decade, Gage knew Reid better than most. Gage knew Reid’s view on serious relationships—pass—and Reid’s dating habits—frequent and fleeting. Now that Gage had been bitten—nay, infested—by the love bug, he might also believe that Drew deserved better than a man who would use her for a few nights of pleasure. Drew meant more to Reid than that, but he didn’t care to have that discussion with Gage, either.

  Now it was Tuesday, and the email was caught up and Reid couldn’t avoid his best friend any longer.

  “Morning, Singleton.” Gage announced.

  Startled, Reid nearly spilled his coffee after all.

  “How was vacation?”

  “Hardly a vacation.” But Reid couldn’t deny it’d been every bit as fun as a vacation. Turned out it was
impossible to be stressed when he spent every evening bare-ass naked, Drew at his side.

  “Andy said Drew was there.”

  “Was she?”

  Gage’s face twisted into an expression of disbelief. “Yeah.”

  So probably Reid shouldn’t exaggerate.

  “Kidding. Yes, she was there. I didn’t recognize her, to be honest. She looked like a different person.”

  “I talked to her on Monday and she said you thought her name was Christina and that you tried flirting with her.” Gage slapped Reid’s shoulder, and Reid nearly choked on his coffee. She’d talked to Gage? And she didn’t clue Reid in as to what she said?

  “She blew me off,” Reid said, careful not to put too much of a gap between the words blew me and off. She’d paid particular attention to that favorite part of his anatomy Saturday night, and he’d not soon forget it.

  “She said you took her to dinner, though, which was nice of you. Thanks for that.”

  “Not like she’s a charity case, mate.”

  “I’m sure you would’ve rather been out buying drinks for beautiful women than stuck entertaining my little sister.”

  Incensed, Reid blurted, “Drew is beautiful,” even as he reasoned that Gage was her brother and didn’t look at her the same way.

  “Yes,” Gage admitted. “She is. I meant I’m sure you would’ve rather been servicing the greater part of San Diego than hanging out with Drew.”

  “You say that like she’s uninteresting. I found her lovely.” And receptive, responsive, easy to ravish...

  “You’re right, I’m a jerk. I sometimes forget she’s a grown woman, you know? I look at her and see a teenager. I overlook the fancy clothes and the new hair color and that air of...” Gage gestured for help. “What word am I looking for?”

  “Sophistication.”

  Gage snapped his fingers. “That’s the word. Who’d have ever thought my sister, who spent her time coloring her hair weird colors and doodling in her journals, would be sophisticated?” He laughed, bemused by his own observation. “Did she call you yet?”

  “What? No. Why? I mean, why would she call me?” Smooth.