Dirty Girl (Page 23)

Guilt floods me, twisting in my stomach. “I’m sorry, Crey. I didn’t think about that. But I’m also not going to live my life any differently just to appease investors. You haven’t, so why should the rules be any different for me?”

“The rules are different, whether you want them to be or not. I’m having the head of PR call you to walk through the dos and don’ts you need to be observing now that you’ve got this guy in the mix. Lay low; don’t attract any more media attention. And I’ve got a team digging into his background. I need to know exactly who we’re dealing with before you see him again.”

And once again, I’m a wayward teenager who can’t possibly be trusted to know what I want or what’s best for me.

“Call them off.” My voice is flat and filled with determination.

“Not a chance in hell.”

“You don’t need to dig into him. I know exactly who he is and what he’s about.”

“Greer—”

I decide to lay it all out. “I’m already sleeping with him, Crey. Whatever you find out, it’s not affecting what I’m going to do. So basically, quit wasting your time.”

“You’re more stubborn than I am.” His voice twists into a familiar growl.

“I learned from the best.”

“Look, Greer, I need to know he’s not trying to scam you. You know what you’ve got to offer, and I’m not saying he’s looking for an easy payday, but I’d be a shitty brother if I wasn’t watching out for you.”

“I know, but I’m also not going to marry the guy like you married some perfect stranger after a one-night stand. So, quit worrying so much. If those pictures of us are already stirring interest, then the paps are going to be around whether I lay low or not. I might as well enjoy myself.”

“If stock prices keep falling in response, I’ll be taking action whether you like it or not. That’s a promise.”

The threat clearly on the table, Creighton and I say our good-byes and hang up. My life has never been simple, and today is no exception.

Is it worth it? For the non-relationship I have with Cav?

I have no answer to that question, except I’m not ready to call it off yet.

As I wrap Greer’s hand around the grip of a gun, I wonder if I’m making a huge mistake.

But where do you take the girl who has everything on a date? If you’re me, you take her to the gun range for a dual-purpose date—Greer gets to see that I’ve got mad skills, and she learns something useful.

“So I just pull the trigger,” she yells, her voice abnormally loud because of the ear-protection effect.

“Squeeze,” I tell her. “It’s a smooth motion.” I demonstrate with my finger as she bites her lip and concentrates downrange at the target.

It’s been a thirty-minute crash course in gun safety, and we’re finally getting to the fun part. At least, I hope she thinks it’s the fun part.

She squeezes the trigger but doesn’t jump at the percussion. Good sign. There’s no hole in the target, so I know she missed.

“Try again. Aim a little lower.”

She squeezes the trigger again, this time putting a hole in the chest of the yellow man hanging in the lane downrange. Greer flips the safety on, sets the gun down on the counter, and yanks off her ear protection.

“I did it!” Clapping her hands and bouncing, she looks younger than twenty-six and too damn innocent to drag into my life. But that doesn’t mean I won’t.

“Damn good job, baby girl. You want to give it another shot?”

She glances from me to the black 9mm Sig Sauer. “Sure, why not?”

“You’ve got plenty of ammo, so you might as well use it up.”

“Okay. Let’s do this.” Excitement lights up her face, and a triumphant feeling grows in my chest.

Once her ear protection is back in place, she unloads the remainder of the rounds in the magazine, and I reload it for her. Once she’s put a suitable number of holes in the target, she lays the gun down again, her dark eyes dancing with enthusiasm.

“I want to see you shoot, Hollywood.”

I grin at her nickname for me and crowd her against the wall of the booth of our shooting lane. The rest of the room is empty because I bought out the entire range for a couple of hours so we could have some privacy.

“Hollywood, huh?” I lean down, teasing both of us with the promise of my lips on hers.

Greer’s palms skim up my chest and she clasps her hands behind my neck. “Seems appropriate,” she whispers, her voice turning husky.

“I’ll let you call me whatever you want right now, baby. But when I’m inside you tonight, I want you moaning my name.”

“I guess we’ll have to see if you can make that happen.”

“It’s a guarantee, not a possibility.”

“So you say.”

“So I know.”

“Are you going to tease me or kiss me?” she asks.

“Whatever I want—that’s what I’m always gonna do.”

And right now I want her smile, not just her mouth. I want that warmth and energy radiating from her. Shit, I just want her. Everything she is, and I want her more than I’ve wanted anything in my life. I will not waste this second chance I’ve been given. But if I fuck it up, I will steal a third chance. And a fourth. Whatever it takes, and regardless of whether I deserve it.

But Greer is sick of waiting for me to make my move, and yanks my head down to her level and takes the kiss I’m teasing her with.