Chandler: A Standalone Contemporary Romance (10 page)

I
wait
until after nine the next morning to give Hudson a recap about dinner. I don’t expect him in his office, so I’m not surprised when I peek in and see it’s empty. Plopping into his chair, I sit back and prop my feet up on his desk.

I mean, I’m already here.

But even though I dial his cell, it’s his wife that answers.

“He’s asleep,” Laynie says, presumably picking up his phone for him. “The twins kept us up most of last night. Well, they keep us up most nights. We’ve been sleeping in shifts, and it’s his turn now. I’d wake him, but we’re driving up to Mabel Shores this afternoon and I want him rested.”

“You guys are going up today?” It’s only Thursday, and I hadn’t expected them to go up to our Hamptons home so early, but I guess it’s not
that
early.

“Yeah, we are. I want to make sure the kids are settled in before people start showing up. Should I have Hudson call you later?”

“Sure.” I change my mind immediately after I answer. “Actually, no. I’ll catch him up on Saturday.” I can use it as a lead-in to get him talking to Genevieve. Just because he’s said he doesn’t want to hire Edward Fasbender, doesn’t mean I won’t try to get him to hire her—for bonus points with the girl, of course.

“Perfect then. Thanks.” She sounds exhausted, and I’m pretty sure I can hear the gurgling of a baby in the background.

I wonder if she’s nursing.

Shit. Now I’m picturing Laynie’s boobs. My brother’s wife is hot, and yes, I’ve had the inappropriate thought now and then before he put a ring on it. But now she’s practically my sister and gross.

Sure way to clear my mind is to think of Genny’s boobs instead. Her perfect, perky, round tits…

“Oh, Laynie.” I catch her before she’s hung up. “I also wanted to mention that I’m bringing someone this weekend. I hope that’s okay.”

“Like a girl kind of someone? Do tell.” As tired as she must be, she still manages enthusiasm, and it nearly makes me want to spill my guts.

Except I have nothing to spill. Because I don’t feel anything for the person I’m bringing. “Her name is Genevieve,” I say, coolly. “She’s got some good ideas for the company, and I thought this weekend would be a great time to hear more.”

Laynie seems dubious. “Yeah, that’s why you’re bringing her. You’re probably not sharing a bedroom while you’re up there either.”

“Obviously I’m sharing a bed. Who do you take me for?” Though it feels kind of irreverent to be talking about Genevieve like my only interest is sex.

Even though it
is
my only interest. Definitely my only interest. Not her smart-as-hell head. Not her chill-as-fuck personality. Not her cool-ass ambition.

“Hmm,” Laynie says, curiously. “Do I sense you might…
like
her?”

“No. Of course not. Honestly, I don’t even know a lot about her.”

“That’s why you go on dates,” Laynie says. “Find out things about each other. See if you’re compatible.” With a burst of excitement she asks, “You know what you should do? The first time I went to Mabel Shores with H, I didn’t know a lot about him. So we played a get-to-know-you game on the drive. It was really fun, and I learned a ton.”

Um. Ew. “How…adorable of you.”

Apparently I don’t hide my disdain well enough because she lets out a frustrated sigh. “I was trying to help.”

I feel bad. I swear. “I know. I’m sorry. It was very nice of you. I can see how that probably was a good trick to get inside the brain of my tight-lipped brother. I just don’t see me playing any sort of game that doesn’t involve taking off clothing. But thanks for the suggestion.”

Then I listen to what I’ve just said, and an idea forms. A really great idea, if I say so myself.

* * *

“
I
have
a thing to keep us occupied on the ride up,” I tell Genny as I pull my Bugatti onto the Long Island Expressway. “Strip True Confessions: This or That style.”

It’s mid-morning and the party at Mabel Shores begins at one. I made sure we got a late start so that we wouldn’t be the first ones there. It’s best if there are people around when Genny meets my mother. I love my mom and all, but sometimes she isn’t on her best behavior, even when there are other people present.

Genevieve raises a brow. “
Strip
? This sounds intriguing.”

“It’s a get-to-know-each-other game. But with a naughty element.”

She folds her arms over her chest and points her chin up. “I told you this wasn’t a date.”

“And this isn’t something I’d ever do on a date, thank you very much. But with someone I’ve banged a few times? It seemed like a fun way to pass the time.”

“You do have a point about needing to pass the time. Go on.”

She’s so stubborn and determined to stand her ground. It’s admirable, as frustrating as it is for me. Mostly, it just makes me want to know more about how she ticks, which is partly why I want to play this game. “I say two things to you about me, one true and one not. You pick which is the truth—this or that. If you pick right, then you get to take a turn. If you pick wrong, you have to remove an article of clothing first.”

“I’m glad I decided to wear underwear today.”

It’s probably unfair that I’d already known about this game when I got dressed, but I’m actually wearing less than I plan to at the party, so it’s fair. I brought a suit to change into at the house. Now I’m in a
Game of Thrones
T-shirt and long cargo shorts. Both easy to get out of while I’m driving.

Yes. I’m planning to get naked while driving. Is that a problem?

A beat later I register what she’s said. “Wait. There was a moment where you’d considered
not
wearing underwear?” I glance over at her in her pleated floral skirt and plain white sleeveless top and picture nothing underneath.

Possibly that was a bad move. I casually shift in my seat.

Meanwhile, she shrugs all nonchalant-like. “I’m not fond of a thong on a long drive, and I didn’t want panty-lines. Then I decided I’d feel uncomfortable meeting your mother without any knickers on and just decided to wear a different skirt.”

“Good choice.” Though I hope that she settles in quickly. My mother will be down the hall tonight, and I hope to get the chance to strip Genny completely.

…and now I’ve learned that Genny naked and my mother down the hall are not thoughts that should ever occur together again.

“Yes. I think it was a nice choice. As is this game. Bravo! Let’s play! Will you go first, or should I?” Her enthusiasm does weird things to my stomach that are definitely not tied up in unexpressed emotions. Nope.

It doesn’t mean I don’t want to get her naked. Because I do. Always. Obviously.

“I’ll go first,” I say. “My birthday is in June. Or my middle name is Alexander.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically, and I’ve never wanted to pull her hair and kiss her as much as I do right now. “Too easy,” she says as though she’s bored. “Hudson’s is Alexander. Your middle name is Aaron. And your birthday
is
in June.”

“You know my middle name?” It’s ridiculous how happy this makes me.

“Of course. You think I wouldn’t Google the man who’s taking me away for the weekend? That’s barmy. I’m not an idiot.”

Damn. Why hadn’t I thought about doing that for her? I’m not too bummed though because I’m too busy flying on the adrenaline of knowing she wanted to know more about me.

I mean, that’s cool. She wants to know about me? Totally expected.

“My turn!” she exclaims, practically bouncing in her seat. “Hmm. Let’s see. Oh, I have one. I’ve never been skiing. Or I’ve never been to the beach.”

“Never been skiing,” I answer quickly. “You’ve surely been to the beach.”

“
Bzz
. Strike one. Take something off! Take something off!”

“You’ve never been to the beach? How is that possible?” That will be corrected today if I have anything to say about it.

“I’m pale, and I burn. And I’m not into sand in all my private places. The only interest I have in a beach is a stormy broody, northern England kind of landscape. The kind of scene you can admire from the window with a good book and a warm fire.”

Huh. Maybe we won’t be beaching today after all.

“Now take something off!”

She doesn’t need to ask again. I start off big and take off my shirt, tossing it over my shoulder to the backseat. None of this take-off-something-little-like-my-watch-first bullshit. I like to raise the stakes from the very beginning. Makes it more likely for her to take off
her
shirt next.

Have I mentioned lately how good I am at gambling?

I glance at her ogling my bare chest, and I have to say, I like it.

“That’s brilliant,” she says, admirably. “I’m quite pleased with this game, I must say.” She switches gears quickly, but I can still feel her eyes on me when she proclaims, “Your turn. Make it a good one. I’m warm sitting over here in all my clothes.”

Seriously, god bless Alayna. This was the Best. Idea. Ever.

I tap my fingers on the steering wheel as I think. I really should have planned some of these beforehand, but what would be the fun in that? “I’m the only Pierce child who wasn’t baptized. Or I was the president of our math club.”

She considers briefly. “President of the math club. I think you’re really brainy behind all that goofy exterior.”

I whip my head in her direction. “Goofy?”

She laughs. “Let it slide. I’m here, aren’t I? No need to get offended.”

“That isn’t comforting.”

“Too bad. I’m very distracted by your lack of clothing, though. Is that better? You have a nice body.” She reaches over to glide a hand over my pec. “Very,
very
nice.”

Very, very nice indeed.

Obviously, I forgive her. “That
is
better. Now I get to be distracted by your lack of clothing because I wasn’t the president of the math club. I was treasurer. But thank you for the compliment.”

Her mouth turns down. “Only child not baptized? That’s odd, isn’t it? What’s that about?” She reaches behind herself to unzip her skirt. See? Told you she’d follow suit in the high stakes clothing removal. It’s also definitely distracting. “I, uh, think my mother was bored with god by the time I got around. I don’t know. It’s random.”

The next time I look over, her long bare legs are draped on the seat next to me. “Speaking of god, holy shit you’re hot.”

I can’t help myself—I reach over and run my hand over the creamy skin of her thigh.
So hot
.

“Actually, I’m feeling quite chilled,” she says. “Mind if I turn down the air?”

At this point, a bucket of ice thrown over my lap will be the only thing that could calm me down so I tell her, “Whatever you need. Just take your turn.” I might even lose on purpose to speed this along.

“I took piano lessons for years. Or I took cello lessons.”

“I’m hoping it’s cello. Because I’m dying over here thinking about you putting that big instrument between your legs.” I’m glad we’re on the highway, and I don’t need to shift because I don’t think I can stop touching her any time soon.

“You’re right. It’s cello, you wanker.”

I grin. “That too. Wanking means jerk off, right? Because, yes.”

“I meant you were a git. An idiot. But figures you’re really a wanker too.” She opens her legs slightly and runs two fingers across the flimsy crotch panel of her panties. “Sometime I’d like to watch,” she says, and I have to think about my high school gym teacher Mr. Al so that I don’t cream myself.

All of a sudden, she crosses her legs and folds her arms over her chest. “Or I’m just putting you on.”

I groan. “I was enjoying the show. And it wasn’t your turn. But you’d definitely like to watch. I can arrange that for you, you know.” I move to work on my belt—not that I’m actually planning to give myself a handjob, but I would like her to notice how stiff I am at the moment.

“Not right now!” She half giggles, half screeches. “You’re driving!”

“All right, all right.” Reluctantly, I rest my hand back on the steering wheel—like she said, I
am
driving. “I’m really itching to get you naked though. So this one’s going to be a really hard one. Let’s see…” I trail off in thought. “I’m a big Marvel fan. Or I’ve never asked a woman to marry me before.”

Whoa, Chandler. That’s a little too much info for a girl you’re just sexing.

Luckily she glosses over it. “
Marvel
? What’s Marvel? I pick that one as the lie.”

“Oh my god, you did not.” I pretend she’s shot me in the heart—which isn’t far from the truth.

Her eyes widen as it clicks. “Oh, you mean those superhero movies? The ones with The Hulk and Superman?”

“Superman is not in the…” I shake my head. “I can’t. I can’t even believe I’m with a girl who doesn’t know the difference between Marvel and DC Comics. You know what? You take something extra off just for that.”

She’s giggling again. Have I mentioned how much I love the sound? So much that I’d embarrass myself purposefully just to hear it. “Obviously I got the answer wrong,” she says. “I’m not taking off two items. That’s not how the rules go. But tell you what—I’ll take off something good.”