January (Calendar Girl #1) Anthology Anthology (125 page)

At this point I leaned back, crossed my legs over one another, and sipped my champagne, letting the bitter bubbles dance along my tongue, awakening my senses once more.

Mason looked at me, an unidentifiable expression on his handsome face. “Then what do you propose we do sweetness?” He grinned, his eyes glancing along my legs and up over my chest to finally land on my face. The words were nice but lacked sincerity.

“First, you stop calling me sweetness.”

He jumped in before I could continue. “Shouldn’t a man have a nickname for his girl?”

I pinched my lips together to think about it. I supposed he was right. “Perhaps, if the way you said it didn’t sound so douchey.”

Mason tipped his head back and laughed. The sound reverberated through the car and lightened the mood. If I could hear that laugh every day, maybe this month wouldn’t suck. He licked his lips and again, that sensitive space between my thighs that still hadn’t forgotten how good it was to have a man’s perfect pout all over the tender flesh thrummed in response. Down, girl! I wanted to chastise my libido. Ever since my fuck-fest with Wes two weeks ago, I’ve been needy, horny as hell, with no hope for relief. And now that my current client is definitely off the list of prospective bedmates, it looked like I’d be attempting celibacy right alongside him. Fun…
not
.

“Look, I guess it’s fine. I think the next step would be to learn a little more about one another. Tell me about yourself?”

He curled a hand around one of his big, jean-clad knees and looked out the window. “Not much to tell. Came from an Irish family. Dad works as a garbage man even though I told him he could quit working for the rest of his life. He won’t. Too proud.”

“Sounds like a good man.” Unlike my own father. Well, technically that’s not true. He tried. Under the circumstances, after handling the blow of my mom leaving, he lost his way. I’m not sure anyone truly knows how to handle losing the love of their life.

Mason smiled, revealing white teeth mostly straight. His eyetooth crooked in just enough to give his smile character. “My dad’s the best, still a hardass. Works too hard though. Always did, providing for me and my brothers.”

“How many brothers do you have?” I asked actually finding this line of conversation interesting.

He held up three fingers as he sipped his champagne this time. “My brothers are all crazy bastards but I love ‘em,” he said, his Bostonian accent popping to the surface. Sexy fucking accents. Damn, it would be hard to keep my hands off him if he was going to turn nice.

His eyes narrowed on me, the green turning dark. “They’ll fuckin’ love that I’m shacking up with such a hot piece of ass.” And then the douchecanoe comes to life once again. I shook my head and took a slow, deep breath.

“Okay, three brothers. Younger, older?”

“All younger. Brayden is twenty one, Conner is nineteen, and my baby brother Shaun is seventeen and still in high school.”

I leaned forward and set my empty glass into the holder. “Wow, four boys.”

Mason nodded. “Yeah, Brayden bartends and goes to community college during the day. Got a chick knocked up right out of high school.” I cringed. “Bitch left the kid with him and ran off.” My mouth dropped open and I gasped. How could a woman abandon her own flesh and blood? Then again, Mom did the same thing. Still, hearing it happened to some other child boils my blood. “So Bray lives with Dad and his daughter Eleanor.”

Eleanor. “That’s an old-fashioned name,” I offered.

He smiled and looked out the window wistfully. “Yeah, it was after our mom.”

“Are your parents separated?”

He shook his head. “Nah, Mom died ten years back. Breast cancer took her young. So it’s just been us guys for a long time.”

I leaned forward and placed my hand on his knee. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

With a flick of his hand, he brushed off the gesture. “It was a long time ago. No matter. Then Connor is attending Boston U, and Shaun has his hands in teenage snatch all day.”

Scowling, I groan.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I left out the part about any grown man referring to a woman’s privates as a “snatch” in the company of a female lacked maturity since that was a losing battle. “So what ads and sponsors are you up for?”

***

When we arrived at his “pad” as he called it, I was surprised to be met by a pretty, waiflike blonde. I was not a small woman, more average for early twenties, but this chick was model thin. Only she looked like Corporate Barbie, all blonde golden hair pulled back in a twist, sparkling sky blue eyes, a perfectly pink pout, tall, and rocking a suit that fit her thin frame to perfection. It spoke of money and professionalism, both of which went against the way she looked at Mason.

“Um, Mr. Murphy,” the woman pointed a finger up as he brushed past her and into the building. Her lips turned into an instant pout when he passed by her without so much as a glance.

I stopped on the step in front of the woman. When she finally stopped watching Mason’s ass as he rummaged around in the entryway, her eyes flashed to mine. I grinned. “Hey rudeness, the pretty blonde in a suit was trying to get your attention,” I called to Mason while keeping my eyes on her. “And you forgot to get my bags.” I shook my head and mumbled asshole under my breath.

“Excuse me,” she dipped her ear toward me.

I shook my head and held out my hand. “Mia Saunders, I’m Mason’s girlfriend.”

The blonde woman closed her eyes and took a breath, seeming to steal herself against something. “I know who you are Mia; we suggested he hire you. I’m Rachel Denton, his public relations representative. I’ve been assigned to work with the two of you on fooling the public. Usually, his publicist would work with him, but I offered to help,” she bit her lip and looked away.

“Well, then we’ll get through this together I assume. He’s a real a character,” I smiled just as Mason showed up at the door.

“Get lost, hot stuff?” His eyes were laughing, but his words grated. I rolled my eyes and grabbed Rachel’s shoulder and brought her to my side.

Mason seemed to notice her for the first time and when I say notice her, I mean he looked her up and down…twice. “Rachel, what are you doing here? I thought Val would be working this job?”

She shook her head and blushed. Interesting. “No, Val’s really busy securing the sponsors and ad lineups for you to interview with. I offered,” she preened as he continued to eye-fuck her.

“Can’t say that I’m going to miss Val,” he said in a way that actually didn’t sound condescending or skeevy. Also interesting. Rachel giggled, yes giggled. His eyes seemed to soften when he looked at Rachel’s face he then opened the door wide for the both of us to enter.

“Um, slacker, the bags?” I nodded to the car.

“Oh right,” he stopped, looked at Rachel then backed up, knocked into the door that hadn’t latched properly and grinned. “I’ll just uh, get the bags.”

I stared as the over-confident, womanizer, douchecanoe fumbled over himself while in the presence of his PR chick who wasn’t doing much better hiding her own interest. Rachel’s cheeks were a rosy red and her teeth were permanently biting into her bottom lip.

I flicked a thumb over my shoulder. “You into him?” I asked.

She nodded mutely and then her eyes widened suddenly. “No! What? Um you have the wrong impression. I merely have a professional relationship with Mr. Murphy.” She ended her verbal diatribe with a firm crossing of her arms and mighty pursing of her lips.

Snorting, failing at hiding my laughter under my breath, I moved into the house. “Whatever you say.” I’d have to dig into that a bit more later, just for the hell of it. If I wasn’t going to be getting any on this trip, the least I could do was have a little fun.

Mason dumped the bags in the foyer and ushered us into the living quarters. The room was a long rectangle as would make sense for a standard brownstone in Boston with multiple levels going up and possibly one going down. I looked forward to having the grand tour.

In the center of the living room was a black, leather sectional. Opposite the sectional was at least a sixty plus inch flat screen television hanging on the wall. There was baseball paraphernalia here and there. Some framed jerseys and a line of signed baseballs sat over the mantle. Each was within its own protective square glass or plastic case. Proved he took care of the things he cherished. Maybe there were two sides to Mason Murphy. If I had to spend a month pretending to be his girlfriend, I sure as hell hoped there was.

“So what brings you here, Rach?” He asked, his body turned completely towards her, even though it didn’t need to be. Rach. Her name was shortened. When people shortened other’s name, it connoted familiarity or a small intimacy.

She crossed her legs, her skirt riding up her thigh. Mason zeroed in on the movement, his eyes following the small slip of fabric. I snickered, but neither one heard me or was paying attention to the fact that I was even in the room.

“I just wanted to make sure that you both were briefed for tomorrow. It will be your first public appearance as a,” she cleared her throat and pushed a long strand of blonde hair behind her ear. It didn’t stay, slipping delicately down her jawline once more. Again, Mason’s eyes were riveted to her, to that piece of hair as if he wanted to touch it, be the one to push it back, caress her skin. His hands gripped into the meat of his thighs. “As uh, a couple,” she finished. “You’ll need to make it look realistic. Hand holding when outside of the stands, small touches, smiling…erm,” she cleared her throat and winced as if it pained her to finish. “Kissing, that kind of thing. Do you have any problems with that, Ms. Saunders?” she asked.

I looked at her with widened eyes. “Do you have a problem with it?” I asked ,honest to God not believing I was watching these two. It was obvious to me and I’d seen them together for a total of ten minutes, that they wanted one another. What the hell was keeping them from moving on it?

Rachel’s head slammed back as if punched. “Excuse me?” she clutched her chest and gasped. “Why would I have a problem with it?”

“Really?” I shook my head.

“What Mia is probably trying to ask is whether or not us having public displays of affection will be a problem with the sponsors or the agency?”

No, that is not at all what Mia was suggesting. What planet did I land on when I got off that plane? Were these two for real? I sighed and decided it was best to play along until I figured out what was going on. “Yeah, what he said.”

Rachel’s lips twitched and the tension seemed to ebb out of her shoulders. It was like watching a morning glory close up for the evening. Slowly relaxing, curling its petals inward to rest until the morning sun brought it back up again, or in this case, a nosey escort originally from Vegas with very little filter. “The team has spent long hours planning this. We understand it’s an unconventional approach, but Mr. Murphy has not presented the public with an idol people look up to. Along with some other things, he’ll need to change the frequent bar brawls, excessive drinking, even the occasional cigarette is a no-go. The team believes that the horde of women he’s paraded around all last season, never being seen with the same woman twice did very little to help his image. We’re committed to turning that around and you’re step one.”

Finally, I chanced a glance at Mason. His elbows were on his knees and his head was in his hands. A defeated posture if I’d ever seen one. I got up and sat right next to him placing a hand on his back then rubbing up and down. He turned his head toward me. “Man, I’ve fucked up.”

“We all fuck up. At least you’ve hired Rachel, and your publicist thinks you’re worthy of turning it all around.” I continued to smooth a hand up and down his strong back until he lifted his head. He adjusted his shoulders, pushing them back, leading with his chest.

“Okay, so you want PDA?” he asked Rachel and she nodded.

“You got it.” He turned to me with a fierce expression and a laser focus to his gaze. “Let’s do this.” Then his hands were clasping the side of my head and his lips were on mine. I gasped, opening my mouth by accident. Instead, he took it as an invitation. Initially, it wasn’t one, but then the taste of champagne still lingered on his tongue as he flicked over mine, and I hadn’t been kissed in what felt like forever, but was really only two weeks. Couple that with the yummy cologne that wafted over his body and I was gone. Lost to his kiss. His tongue dipped in, demanding yet playful. I licked back, leaned forward, clasped the front of his shirt, and held him in place while slanting my head for more. More of his kiss, more of him. Fuck. This was not part of the plan.

When we finally pulled away, both of us were panting, gasping for breath.

“How was that?” Mason turned around to where Rachel was sitting, but she was gone. I could hear her heels clicking on the tile. “Rachel?” he called out.

“See you tomorrow. Great job!” she called out through the house two seconds before the door slammed shut.

Mason slumped against the back of the couch. “Fuck me.”

I shook my head and leaned back. “Not gonna happen.” He chuckled. “What was that?”

“That was me kissing a seriously hot escort.” His eyes glinted with a hint of lust, but I knew better. It was body mechanics. Sure he was drop dead gorgeous, and I can’t say that kissing him didn’t get my juices flowing, but attraction and genuine interest are two totally different things.

“You like her,” I offered him an olive branch.

His lips pinched together and he closed his eyes. “Of course I do. She’s nice and I pay them well. We’re all happy. What’s not to like?”

“That not what I mean and you know it.”

“Look, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry and you need to get settled. There’s a bunch of shit, in bags, that Rachel or Val purchased as part of the deal. I didn’t put it away; I just set it on the bed. Pizza okay?”

He stood quickly and started to walk away and then must have thought better of it. He turned and offered his hand. “Thanks for taking the job,” he said as he pulled me to my feet. “Your room is the first door on the right, unless you want to share mine,” he waggled his eyebrows and thrust his hips. I blew out a fast breath and shook my head. As I started walking, he smacked me hard on the ass.