Tailored for Trouble: A Romantic Comedy (Happy Pants) (10 page)

Luci nodded but kept her eyes glued to Bennett. “Mr. Wade has just graciously volunteered to work at our gran fiesta.”

Bennett replied, “I did not say—”

Taylor stepped on Bennett’s booted foot. “Yes. Thank you. We’d love to help and thank you so much for the cookies, Ms. Luci. And for inviting us into your lovely home.”
With the weird pig.

Bennett mashed his lips together.

Ms. Luci smiled. “My pleasure,
niños
.” She opened one of the tins, and pulled out two large cookies. One she placed inside the red tin. The other she slid inside a small sandwich bag from her drawer and handed to Taylor. “This one is for you, dear. And this tin of chocolate cookies is for your mother, Bennett. Please tell her I send my regards and hope her health improves.”

Taylor noticed that Ms. Luci got a pass on calling him Bennett. Maybe his little rule had more exceptions than he let on.

“How did you know she’s not feeling well?” Bennett asked, his eyes narrowing.

Ms. Luci’s mouth twisted a bit. “Uh…you must’ve mentioned it.”

“I don’t recall that,” Bennett replied.

Ms. Luci shrugged innocently.

Time to go before Bennett says something rude again.
“Have a wonderful day, Ms. Luci.” Taylor nodded to Sebastian. “Nice to meet you and your…Muffin Top. See you both at the party.”

Bennett grumbled a sad little version of “thank you” and followed Taylor out with the cookie tin in his hand.

Once inside the car with the door closed, Taylor was about to comment how she felt like they’d walked into a funny farm when Bennett let loose. “I’ll thank you not to make social commitments on my behalf.”

“You’re welcome, Bennett,” Taylor snapped. “And it’s not like you have to go. People cancel on parties all the time.”

“I’m a man of my word. If I say I’ll be somewhere, I’ll be there.”

Taylor shrugged. “Well, guess you’re going to Luci’s party and serving drinks then.”

“I’m goddamned Bennett Wade. I’m not going to wait on people.”

It was so strange looking at Bennett; with his black eye, faded jeans, muscled frame stretching his soft T-shirt, and his dark unkempt hair, he was the very picture of a rugged, sex-in-boots bad boy. But his attitude still wore that tailored suit. It was like the damned thing was part of him.

“Oh, relax,” Taylor said. “I’m sure she has other things they need help with—parking cars, scrubbing toilets, walking the pig. You know.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Ms. Reed, because you’re going, too.”

“I think it will be fun…” Taylor’s train of thought was interrupted as Bennett grabbed her cookie and broke off a piece.

“Hey! That was mine,” she complained as he chewed.

He shook his head and handed the uneaten portion back.

“Gee,
thank
you,” she said bitterly.

Then she remembered the article and found herself staring at the thing, then at Bennett, then back at the cookie.

She was going to be with Bennett for the next seven days. And he had just eaten a piece of the cookie.

Oh, come on. You don’t believe in that kind of crap.
To prove it to herself, she also broke off a piece and popped it into her mouth. “Hmm…pretty good, but I’m not feeling anything.” She handed the cookie back to Bennett. “Here I think you need the love cookie more than I do.”

Bennett gave her a dark look with those big blues.

Oh,
this was going to be fun. “Didn’t you know? According to the article I read in the paper, anyone who eats one of these falls madly in love within seven days. Ms. Luci has this whole cult following because of it. And that party is really a giant wedding for everyone who’s fallen in love that year.”

He blinked at her, clearly very irritated. “Are you telling me that I just took two hours out of my busy schedule to get love-voodoo cookies for my mother?”

“Who do you think will be the lucky man?” Taylor asked, toying with him.

“But she’s…she’s…” He made a manly grumble. “Never mind.”

“Oh! That’s right. She got
you
the cookie! I remember now: the day of the crash, she said, ‘tell Bennett to eat the cookie.’ ” Taylor smirked. Rubbing this in was so much fun. His mother thought he was a giant relationship loser.

It was exactly what her family and friends thought about her. No they’d never come out and said it, but the subject of her not having a boyfriend worked its way into almost every conversation.

“Oh, you think you’re funny, Ms. Reed?” Taylor suddenly felt the soft chewy cookie smashing into her face. Not so hard that it hurt, but it wasn’t so pleasant either. She gasped and pushed Bennett’s hand away. He was laughing, trying to get the cookie into her mouth. “Well, here’s your cookie!” She squealed and bits of cookie flew everywhere.

“No. I don’t need anyone,” she said in a deep mocking tone, laughing her words. “I’m Mr. Wade. Get that thing away, you horrible woman!” Her voice cracked doing her best Bennett Wade impression. “Must I write you a check?”

“I won’t sleep with you, Mr. Wade,” he said, in falsetto, still trying to maneuver a chunk of cookie into her mouth. “But I like staring at your pants!”

Her eyes went wide, and she gasped. “Oh! You did
not
just say that.”

Grinning, he nodded. “Oh yes. Indeed, I went there,” he said in his normal voice. “Whatever will you do, Ms. Reed?”

She palmed a chunk of cookie that had landed near her hand and pounced. “This!”

He caught her arm and pushed it aside. Suddenly she realized her body was stretched halfway over his, their mouths only inches apart.

His smile melted away, and his gaze flashed from her eyes to her lips. Conflict ripped through her at lightning speed. Her gazed flittered to his lips and back to his hypnotic pale blue eyes.

Then it happened. Before her brain could scream at her to jump away or say how sorry she was for laying her body over his, he closed the gap and kissed her.

Taylor had no idea if a man like Bennett Wade often did impulsive things. But she knew this kiss and the way he possessively gripped her upper arms to keep her from moving away fell into that category. Maybe he’d regret it later. Maybe he wouldn’t. But the fact was he’d done it, and now it couldn’t be undone. The other fact was that no man had ever kissed Taylor like this before. Not once.

Leave it to Bennett Wade and those full, sensual lips to deliver a kiss so soft yet so demanding that she couldn’t breathe for three whole seconds. He didn’t kiss her with his tongue or move his hands. He simply held his mouth to hers, allowing her to feel the heat of his lips penetrating her delicate skin. Or perhaps it was the other way around. Maybe it was Bennett who wanted to savor the warmth of her lips.

Didn’t matter.

He’d not dipped her, touched her, or made any move other than to press his beautiful mouth to hers, and it undid her.

Com. Plete. Ly.

Every nerve ending in her body, especially the recently neglected lady parts, lit up like Fourth of July sparklers in serious need of waving. Her thighs clenched together, her skin exploded with little tingles, and her breasts began aching for his touch.

How long they stayed like that, intimately sampling the texture and heat of each other’s lips, exchanging the breath from their bodies, she didn’t know, but she instantly knew it was the sort of kiss a woman would remember for the rest of her life.

“Sir?” The driver coughed softly. “Sorry to interrupt, but are we heading back to the airport now?”

Bennett slowly pulled away, his piercing gaze fixed on hers for several long moments as she slid off him, completely in shock. That had been one hell of a kiss.

“Yu-yu,” he cleared his throat, and twisted his body to face forward again, his expression reminiscent of a deer in headlights. “Yes. Back to the airport now. Thank you,” his voice came out all scratchy and husky.

Taylor swiveled to face forward, too, scooting a few inches toward her door to put a bit of separation between them. Meanwhile, her heart slammed against her rib cage and her mouth watered like she’d just inhaled the scent of fresh warm bread straight from the oven. Then there was the place between her legs. Dammit. The man hadn’t even used tongue with that kiss, yet she’d felt completely worked over.
I think there’s steam coming from my panties.

Staring forward, her mind a fog, she whooshed out a breath. “What was that?” she asked, refusing to make eye contact, and thoroughly afraid of what she might do if he happened to look as blown away as she felt.

“I don’t know,” he said, stiffly. “But it never happened.”

“Nope. Never happened,” she agreed.

Yeah, but it did.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him slide on his glasses, cross his arms, and lean back his head.

Taylor didn’t take offense. If she had remembered her sunglasses, she’d be hiding behind them, too.

He’s right. That never should’ve happened. Never
. And they didn’t have any convenient excuses. There was no liquor, no near catastrophe—like a plane crash that sometimes heightened people’s emotions—no nothing. It was nearly eleven in the morning and except for a little sleep deprivation, they’d both been of sound mind.

And I completely loathe the despicable man. It must’ve been that odd house. Or the cookie
. Not that she believed for a moment it had supernatural powers.
Ridiculous.
But the mind worked in mysterious ways, and clearly they’d both—on a subliminal level—been thinking about falling in love. Sure, if there were a cookie that could magically summon your special someone like in a fairytale, how wonderful would that be? But that wasn’t real. Real was waiting and dating. Then waiting and dating some more until you gave up or finally…
settled.

Oh, crap.
She resisted covering her mouth.
He’s right. I’m a settler
. He’d said that about her yesterday in his office, and he’d been right. No she hadn’t settled yet, but she’d been planning to. She’d planned to meet some guy who was nice enough, and when ready, she’d “settle” down. Not passion down. Not head-over-heels down. Settle down. No wonder she was avoiding relationships like the plague, focusing entirely on her career instead.

And now her true desire—to find someone who made her feel like she was being carried off on a ride filled with peril and lust and discovery and triumph and failures and crazy hot love—had bubbled to the surface.

Okay, maybe I’m not a settler. I just didn’t know what I wanted.

But now she did. Not with Bennett, of course—the man was a player, not a stayer, and she loathed him. But he’d given her a glimpse into her own heart’s desire.

Seven days, huh? Well, I will be traveling.
That meant she’d be meeting a lot of new people, right? Taylor decided to keep an open mind. What was there to lose?

Bennett’s phone suddenly went off, jarring her from her thoughts. He tipped the phone toward his face, read whatever message was on it, and then tilted his head back again. After several moments, he finally said, “It worked. Mary accepted.”

Taylor grinned proudly. “You’re welcome.”

Is the man all right?
Taylor squinted at Bennett sleeping in the reclined seat, but with the dimmed airplane cabin lights, it was difficult to tell. He kept mumbling the name “Kate.” No actually, it wasn’t a mumble, it was more like a growl. Candy had said Kate was his ex, but he also kept repeating a sad-sounding word she didn’t recognize: waya or wayang? She didn’t know, but every time he said it, something tugged at her heartstrings.

On the other hand, she was a firm believer in reaping what you sowed, and he’d clearly done this poor Kate some wrong and felt bad about it.
Maybe?
Taylor returned to her laptop; she had been taking advantage of Bennett being asleep by doing some work on her fake training course, but now she wanted to snoop.

She pulled up her web browser and typed in “Kate and Bennett Wade,” but nothing came up. That only piqued her curiosity even more.
Maybe I’ll ask him?
On the other hand, Candy had said it made him angry when anyone mentioned his nightmares or his ex, so he probably wouldn’t open up.

And you’re not here for that. Back to work, Tay.

She had already strategically modified the necessary modules, subtly tweaking them so Bennett wouldn’t suspect she was providing coaching that would undermine his relationship with Mary.

For example, Taylor knew that Mary Rutherford loathed kiss-ups. Therefore, training module number three, which focused on “How to Build a Positive Relationship with Women in Power,” would now stress “recognizing that women enjoy compliments in any setting.”

Taylor snickered to herself. Honestly, most women would probably be fine if a male coworker or business partner complimented their appearance. “You look great today, Betty” or “New shoes, Martha? Very nice.” But Mary would see it as a sign of general smarminess.

Planting similar landmines, Taylor typed the final finishing touches in the other modules, grinning proudly at her work.
Let’s see how far your cockiness gets you now, Mr. Wade.

An image of Bennett staring deeply into her eyes flashed in her mind. It was the moment his plane took a nosedive, when he’d risked his safety just to assure her she’d be okay, including giving her his cellphone so that rescue crews would be able to locate her first. His strength and cockiness had kept her from losing her mind.

She stared at the final phony coaching lessons, having second thoughts. Maybe this plan of hers was a mistake. Maybe there was an explanation for what Bennett had done.

Or maybe you’re getting suckered, just seeing what you want to see.
She couldn’t deny that Bennett had a way about him that made her want to like him despite his bulldozer tactics. And having a man like Bennett even remotely interested in her—which she wasn’t saying he was—made her feel…well, kind of…she didn’t know really. But what woman wouldn’t appreciate a little attention from such a good-looking man, even if only a superficial kiss probably fueled by curiosity.
Or the fact you told him you would never sleep with him.

Oh, boy.
She hit her forehead and laughed quietly.
Of course
.
Tell that man he can’t have something, and he’ll go after it just to prove you wrong.
She’d seen it on the day she’d told him she wouldn’t work with him. His response had been to corral her onto his plane.

Still, despite the evidence, she wanted to believe there was more substance to this man.

Taylor felt like she was at a crossroads. Why? She barely knew Bennett.

She sighed, shut down her laptop, and lay back, staring at the beige ceiling of the plane.
I can’t do this. I can’t. Whether or not he’s done something wrong, this isn’t me. I’m not the person who goes after people.

Yes, he’d wounded her pride. And betting a million dollars with one’s buddies on whether or not you could bag a chick was depraved. Lying to get someone to work for you, claiming you wanted to be a better person simply so you could make money on some big merger was lower than low. Telling a woman he’d have to be drunk to ever sleep with her and commenting on her appearance at a business meeting, as he’d done to her ex-boss Vera, was barbaric. Having two police officers drag a lady off in an airport to force her to talk to you was underhanded not to mention unethical.
And then there’s the way he demanded you keep that cell on you at all times because he thinks he owns you…

Taylor found herself completely riled up again.

But what’s any of this going to prove, Tay? Nothing.
The man was who he was, and her undermining his merger wouldn’t change that.

As soon as they landed in Tokyo and Bennett was awake, she’d tell him she couldn’t take his money or train him. She wouldn’t give a reason other than she felt she couldn’t offer him anything of value. He’d understand that. And a guy with an ego that large would buy the whole “Oh, but you’re so smart already. What could I possibly ever teach you?”

Problem solved.

Taylor awoke to a gentle tug on her shoulder and a cold block of cement inside her head. “Ms. Reed, we’re here,” said Candy.

She cracked open one eye and Candy’s face—perfect makeup, creamy complexion, red lips, and red hair in a neat bun—came into focus. Taylor slowly sat up and noticed Bennett’s seat empty.

“Oh,” said Candy, “he had a four o’clock meeting so he needed to get going, but he said he’d see you bright and early in the morning for breakfast.”

“What time is it?”

Candy glanced at her watch. “Just after two in the afternoon, Tokyo time—a day ahead from when we left, of course.”

Taylor nodded. There was a sixteen-hour time difference, and her body felt it.

“You all right, honey?” Candy asked.

Taylor ran her hand over her brown bird’s nest. All it was missing were the twigs. “Yes, I just really needed to talk to Bennett.”

Candy gave her a look.

“What?” Taylor said, her voice scratchy and tired.

“If I can offer you a little advice, Ms. Reed; I wouldn’t call him that. People will get the wrong impression.”

“I’m not sleeping with him,” Taylor grumbled, trying to get her seat back into the upright position.

“Oh, I know.” Candy said it like the idea was impossible.

“How?” Taylor asked, a little offended.

“That’s easy. Mr. Wade would never, and I mean
never
touch a woman who works for him. That man,” she shook her finger, “is a gentleman. They don’t make ’em like that anymore. But his mama raised him right. No hanky-panky with the staff.”

“But what about you?” Taylor blurted out before she could stop herself.

Candy’s jaw dropped, and she placed her hand on her chest. “Me? What would give you the impression that Mr. Wade and I have ever…?”

“You said you have quickies and overnighters a few times a week.”

“Oh! No, I’m sorry.” Candy laughed. “I meant I
check
on him during our flights to see if he needs anything. He’s asleep half the time on these long trips.”

“And Robin? Is he dating her?”

“Dear God, no.” Candy leaned in. “Robin bats for the other team.”

She does?
Taylor never would’ve suspected that.

“She’s been with her partner Bonnie for years.”

“Oh.” Taylor now felt silly for assuming Bennett had slept with every woman he made contact with. “I guess I misjudged him.”

Candy sighed. “Well, honey, there was a time I had a little thing for Mr. Wade, but now I see him more as family.” She shook her head appreciatively. “That man is my guardian angel. He’s done more for me than anyone on this planet, including my own parents.”

“Like what?”

Candy grabbed a small black carry-on from a small closet near the front of the plane. “Well…I…it’s a story best told over a drink. Let’s get you to the hotel, and then I promise I’ll share, but only if you promise never to speak about it to anyone.”

“Why not?”

She smiled knowingly. “That’s part of the secret.”