Loe raamatut: «The Bachelor Pact»

Two

Until this exact moment in time, Drew Fleming had never successfully captured Reid Singleton’s undivided attention. She’d recognized him the instant their eyes locked across the room. He looked the same as when her brother, Gage, had introduced him years ago. To summarize: disgustingly, distractingly hot.

Reid, while still disgustingly, distractingly hot, was also somehow more. More mature. Slightly weathered. Handsome. Stately. Broader, too, his shoulders taking up more space in that button-up shirt than they had a right to.

Her heart pattered insistently against her rib cage as she walked toward him, and she forced herself to take deep breaths. She wasn’t going to dissolve into Reid’s biggest fan at a conference mixer, nor was she going to have a panic attack and run off in another direction. Drew was proud of who she was, of how far she’d come. She was no longer Gage’s backward, chubby younger sister. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled shyly as she hid behind her hair.

She put a hop in her next step as she drew her chin up and shook her hair. Reid’s tempting mouth slid into an expression that screamed interested. And who could blame him? She was rocking this skirt.

Reid and Drew didn’t have much of a past to speak of, considering he’d only known her when she was fifty pounds heavier. She’d been the quiet girl sneaking frosting off the edge of her birthday cake because she couldn’t wait for everyone to sing “Happy Birthday” before she tasted it.

Back then she’d had either white-blond hair with pink streaks, or jet black—that phase had lasted what felt like forever—before accepting her weight and her mouse-brown natural hair color as an adult. But today Reid was seeing her as her best self. Her rich, dark hair long and flowing over her shoulders. Her smile bright, her lipstick fresh, her new killer heels sexily laced up her ankles. If there was ever a perfect time to run into Reid Singleton, it was right now.

She’d have to call her roommate, Christina, the moment this mixer was over and thank her for coming down with the plague.

See, Drew might be herself, but she also wasn’t herself. She was playing the role of her roommate, who’d had the unfortunate luck to contract the flu before the tech event for her company. Christina had been working at the Brentwood Corporation for just under a year and was worried if she missed the first conference they’d assigned her to, they’d never ask her to do another.

Drew was desperately in need of a break after a messy split with her ex a year ago. She felt was like she was emerging from the shadows after a long, deep slumber, so she volunteered to come here in Christina’s stead.

Admittedly, manning—or womanning—the booth at the conference wasn’t as fun as an actual vacation, but Drew made the best of it. She’d had a lot of visitors today and smiled and welcomed them even if she didn’t understand what the heck the video she played on repeat was trying to convey. But what she was skilled at was small talk, and so whenever someone popped in, she’d winged it.

Tonight’s mixer was a great excuse to wear the new shoes, admittedly a splurge, but she’d learned to spoil herself—to splurge on things other than food. Drew splurged on joy. Splurged on clothes. And tonight she might splurge on flirting with Reid Singleton. The way he was watching her hinted that he would enjoy that.

She ventured over to the quiet, darker part of the room only he was occupying. Reid set aside his glass, an inch of brown liquid in the bottom, and tilted his head as she approached.

She was tempted to duck her head to hide from the intense eye contact, but she forced herself to hold his cerulean gaze. “Hi.”

“Hello.” His voice was as rich as dark chocolate and every bit as sinful as those stolen swipes of frosting from her birthday cake. In spite of living in America for over a decade, his accent hadn’t gone anywhere. He perused her from head to toe before those traveling eyes locked on her chest. “Christina. That’s a pretty name.”

Oh. Damn. Her badge! She’d clipped it on her top to make sure she would be admitted into the party but failed to tuck it away when she arrived.

Wait...

Reid knew she wasn’t Christina, right? He had to be kidding. And so she laughed.

“Christina. Right.”

“The tag’s a bit of a formality but I’m glad for it. Saved me asking your name. I’ve been watching you dance.”

Drew felt her smile slip. Damn. He didn’t recognize her. A frisson of hurt rippled through her, and her smile was a little harder to hold. Was she so forgettable?

“You noticed me,” he said.

“What?” She blinked as she reframed the situation in her head. She hadn’t seen him in forever and she looked nothing like her former self. Still, she was halfway to offended that her brother’s friend didn’t know who she was...but she was also intrigued. What was the intrigue about?

Second chances, part of her whispered.

Reid knew Drew as Gage’s little sis who was a fashion disaster, rarely spoke and was curled on the couch with a book whenever he had seen her. And though the summer she’d been rocking a black bikini at their family’s backyard pool had been more about rebellion than catching Reid’s attention, she remembered him noticing. In passing. He certainly hadn’t looked at her the way he was looking at her now.

Like he wanted her.

What was that saying? That there wasn’t a second chance to make a first impression. She’d bet there wasn’t a single soul alive who didn’t want to press a do-over button on something stupid they’d said or done in the past, to leave a totally different first impression. Evidently, she had the rare opportunity to do just that.

Reid and Drew both lived in Seattle—as did her brother—but she’d done her level best to keep from bumping into Reid on accident. Sure she’d undergone a transformation, but she wasn’t willing to risk being overlooked again. He’d always seen Drew through the lens of “Gage’s sister,” and she doubted dropping weight and changing her hair color would change that. Not that she had to try hard to avoid him. Her social media footprint was almost invisible. She’d endured enough bullying in high school to know better than put up a photo and expect likes and wait for compliments. Nooooo thanks.

If she was running into him here, of all places, the universe must be nudging her to take action where he was concerned. It was a sign.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

A laugh bubbled from her throat. A second chance to make a first impression on Reid. To find out how long it took him to realize that he was flirting and chatting with none other than Drew Fleming, Gage’s younger sister, and not the mysterious “Christina” from the conference.

This should be fun. And no less than he deserved for not recognizing her on sight.

“Only if it’s golden yellow and bubbly.”

He eyed her gold shirt. “Fitting.”

He offered his arm and she curled her fingers around his biceps. Whatever cool she had slipped from her like rainwater off a duck’s back. She’d easily navigated the room in her high-heeled shoes all evening, but now worried she might stumble and fall. She swiped her teeth with her tongue in case her lipstick had transferred. She suddenly worried there was something in her nose or—

“Champagne and scotch rocks, please,” Reid ordered from the bartender. Her palm was sweaty. So were her teeth, for that matter.

Do not freak out. Do not freak out!

She’d play a role. Like an actor. Deep inside she was the same Drew, but her outer appearance had changed enough that some days she felt like someone else. She was definitely a stronger version of herself. A happier version of herself. She’d sprouted and then bloomed, and now a tender new bud was around the corner. She could feel it.

Screw Chef Devin Briggs for never seeing the rose he’d had.

She shook her head. She wasn’t going to let thoughts of her ex-boyfriend ruin a one-on-one with Reid.

“Golden and bubbly.” Reid handed her the champagne flute. “Should we sit or linger?” He leaned in when he asked, and she was so focused on the shape of his upper lip, the tempting fullness of his lower lip, that she didn’t answer.

“Huh?” Smooth, Drew.

He gestured to a cluster of boxy-looking chairs and a sofa in the corner. Currently unoccupied.

“Sit. Let’s sit.” Before she had a case of the vapors and fell flat on her face.

He took her free hand this time, his blunt fingers and wide palm dwarfing her smaller ones. She walked toward the sofa with one thought dominating all others. I’m holding Reid’s hand. I’m holding Reid’s hand!

She felt like a teenager again, smitten by this gorgeous god of a man who seemed too perfect to be real. Except she was closer to his equal now, wasn’t she? The playing field hadn’t been leveled, but close. She was a professional with a great job and a great life, and her shoes were adding four inches of much-needed height. She was confident and strong, and she wouldn’t trade this second chance for anything. His being attracted to her was doing wonders for her ego.

Shallow, but no less true.

Dipping his chin, he gestured for her to sit. She did, crossing one leg over the other and noticing when Reid noticed. She hid her smile at the rim of the champagne flute. As bubbles tickled her throat and popped on her tongue, he settled in next to her.

“Where do you hail from, Christina—” another glance at her name tag “—Kolch?”

“And you pronounced it right. Impressive.” Christina was always complaining that she’d heard everything from “Cock” to “Couch” whenever someone said her last name.

“Like the soda but with an L, I figured.”

“You figured right.” A weighty pause hovered in the air and she realized her faux pas. She recovered with a stilted, “What’s your name?” and felt silly for asking.

“Singleton. Reid Singleton.”

“Did you intentionally introduce yourself like James Bond, or did I hear it that way because of your accent?” His smile erased her mind like a powerful magnet, but thankfully she recovered quickly. “I assume you didn’t grow up in California?”

“I’m from London, but I live in Seattle and have for years. Never developed a knack for you Americans’ hard Rs.”

He overpronounced the R in hard and Rs, which made him sound a little like a pirate. Drew laughed again.

“Do you always giggle this much or only when you drink champagne?”

“Only when I drink champagne with handsome strangers,” she said, enjoying the game and the new rules for it. When Reid figured out who she was in the next two minutes, she would shove his arm in an ole-buddy-ole-pal way and chastise him for his weak powers of observation.

But she was in no hurry. She liked him this way—trying to win her attention, sitting taller when she’d paid him a compliment he had to know was true. It wasn’t like Reid didn’t own a mirror. He was obviously good-looking to the nth degree.

It was unfair to every other man on the planet.

“Well played.” His voice was a low murmur as he leaned in, his eyes touching her lips. He then sat back, taking her breath with him, and sipped his scotch while she drained half her champagne.

She suddenly didn’t want this to end. She didn’t want him to recognize her. She wanted to be seen as charming and playful and beautiful. She wanted to relax and have fun and flirt.

Her gaze locked on his full lower lip below his contoured top lip. She wanted to kiss him. Before it was too late. Before she lost her nerve, and her only chance with it. As soon as he figured out that she was Drew Fleming, the moment would be lost.

A wave of panic sailed through her chest. She’d regret not kissing him for the rest of her life if she didn’t do it now. She set aside her champagne glass and faced him.

“Tell me more about—” he started, but she cut him off. In the most delicious way possible.

She grabbed his dashing, perfect face, tugged his mouth to hers and kissed him hard.