The Expert’s Guide to Driving a Man Wild (Bluebonnet #3)(8)
Author: Jessica Clare

Hell, and now he was thinking like he was going to take part in this charade, too. He needed to make up his mind, and soon.

The front door to the lodge opened, and Grant turned around. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as Brenna entered, a soft smile on her mouth. She lifted her arms and twirled a little. “Will this do? I had to borrow it from Miranda.”

Brenna’s dark, wavy hair had been parted down the middle, the thick brown locks brushing against her shoulders. Her heavy fringe of purple bangs had been carefully arranged and curled, and they hung in a perfect line at her eyebrows. Her hair didn’t look careless and untamed today—it looked beautiful, thick, and healthy, and just a bit quirky. The dress she wore was a dark blue sheath with thin spaghetti straps and a bit of lace under the bust. It was pretty and demure and wasn’t something Brenna would normally wear, but now that she was in it, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her figure was usually hidden in the bizarre clothing choices she normally wore, but tonight she was an hourglass. When she turned, he could see two small bluebirds tattooed over each shoulder blade. His parents wouldn’t approve of that.

He didn’t care. She looked gorgeous. And that stunned him.

Her smile widened as he said nothing. Her hands went to her hips, the small clutch purse in her hand a bright spotted-leopard print. “That good, huh? I thought so, too.”

Grant rubbed his chin. “You look nice.”

“I know! My tits look amazing in this.” She cupped her br**sts and jiggled them at him, grinning.

His astonished gaze went to that cle**age and he couldn’t help but stare for a moment. When had Brenna, the pain in his ass, gotten so built? Stacked like a brick shithouse, as Dane would say.

“Are your parents going to flip out?”

He was still staring at her br**sts. “Huh? What?”

“Your parents? Are they going to be upset that we’re ‘dating’?” She released her boobs and made air quotes as she said “dating.” “And better yet, do you care?”

“You were right—it is a good idea, if an unorthodox and deceitful one.”

“Such flattery,” she said with a grin, not offended at his words at all. “So, if we’re going to do this, and I think you just said we are, I need you to do one more thing for me. Well, two more things.”

“What’s that?”

“One,” she said, and moved past him to his desk.

He couldn’t help but watch her, admiring the lines of her legs. She wore high heels, too, and she looked amazing in them. He’d never seen Brenna dolled up, and he felt as if he’d been suddenly missing out. She was gorgeous. He couldn’t stop staring at her.

Brenna picked up the picture on his desk and held it out to him. “You can’t have this sitting out on your desk while they’re here. They’ll know something’s up.”

It was like a punch in the gut. Heather’s smiling picture stared up at him. She’d been so alive, so vibrant in that photo. And now she was dead, and here he was, five years later, pretending he’d moved on and wasn’t holding on to feelings. He gazed at the photo for a long moment, not saying anything.

“I know it’s rude of me to point it out,” she told him softly. “But it’s only for a short time. I promise. We’ll put it back up as soon as they’re gone.”

We’ll put it back up. As if they were in this together. Funny how he and Brenna had been at odds from day one, and the moment she’d felt he was threatened, she’d latched on to him and declared them a team. Funny . . . and appealing, really.

He nodded, opened a desk drawer, and very carefully laid Heather’s picture in there and then closed the drawer. His throat clenched for a moment, as if in protest, and then he was fine. Grant glanced back over at Brenna. “What was the other thing?”

She grinned, looking far more mischievous and like her old self. “You can’t look so freaked out when I kiss you.”

“I didn’t look freaked out.”

She gave him a wide-eyed, startled expression, pantomiming him receiving her kiss.

“Bullshit. That wasn’t me.”

“I’m afraid it’s true,” she said with a fake sigh. “You’re not a very good actor.”

Grant gave her a challenging look. “Do we need to practice?”

She gave him an impressed look and, hell, he was impressed at himself for saying it, but now that it was out there, he was curious to see how she’d react.

Brenna gestured for him to close the space between them. “Wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of prep before dinner.”

All right, then. He moved closer to her, noticing that she smelled a bit like a light, flowery perfume. Did she always smell that sweet and he’d never noticed? Or was this more stuff borrowed from Miranda? Grant stood in front of her for a moment and gave her an expectant look. “Well?”

“Well, what? You’re the one who suggested practice. You need to kiss me.” She exaggerated her face into a pucker and tilted it up for him.

This sounded like a challenge. He’d kiss her, and he’d kiss her until her toes curled. Grant put an arm around her waist, tugging her close against him. Her arms wrapped around him to catch herself and while she steadied her feet, he leaned down and lightly brushed his thumb over her lips. “Be serious, Brenna.”

Her mouth relaxed and she got all soft-looking, her lips parting as she glanced up at him. Ah hell, she was great at this pretending shit. She really looked as if she wanted nothing more than for him to kiss her.

Good. He’d oblige her, pretending or not. He leaned in and tilted his mouth over hers, ever so gently kissing her mouth. It’d been five years since he’d kissed a woman. He was probably rusty. She tasted sweet, her lips hinting of cherries, and he gently sucked at her upper lip, nipping at it with soft, gentle kisses as if she were the most delicate, most precious thing he’d ever held in his arms. Over and over, making love to her upper lip.

Kissing Brenna was incredible. He loved how she felt in his arms, all soft and pliant. He could get used to this, he decided. And when she made a soft noise in her throat that sounded like pleasure, he decided he needed more than just a little lip-brushing.

That was when he decided to deepen the kiss. His tongue slicked over her parted lips, darting into her mouth, waiting to see if she’d resist him. She felt amazing in his arms, warm and curvy and so f**king pretty that he wanted to clear off the rest of his desk and drop her up there and see how far they’d take this pretense.