Their Secret Bargain Read online

  “That was Todd owning his Jerkdom,” Suzanne corrected. “I hope she pukes in his lap.” Tucker’s wife swivelled back to face them. “Now, about that kiss.”

  Nick chuckled. “Lay off, Suz. I had to do it—especially when I saw Dixon glowering that way.”

  “You know Todd?”

  A guy down the bar raised his mug for a refill and Nick took care of business while keeping a close eye on the women. “We went to school together. He was a bully then, too.”

  Suzanne looked around then moved closer to Jennifer. “The bully is now by the door chatting up some old guy in a suit. You know him?”

  Jennifer glanced that way. “That’s Harold Pierson, the hospital president. Todd wants to be chief of surgery.”

  Dixon? Nick bit back a groan. That was the position his eldest brother, Ethan, had his sights set on.

  “Idiot. I wouldn’t want him operating on me.”

  Nick silently seconded the statement.

  “He would be awfully busy looking at his reflection in the shiny instruments,” Jenn added with a low giggle.

  Nick smiled and filled several more orders, his ears straining to hear their conversation. Finally he was able to rejoin them.

  “Just in time. We need to talk to you about our plan.” Suzanne’s eyes sparkled. “But first how about both of you do me a favor?”

  “What?” Nick asked, ignoring Jennifer’s groan.

  “My birthday is next week and I won’t be here to celebrate with you two because I’ll be walking on the beach in Hawaii, but you can give me my present right now. Nick, take her into the office like you two are an item and you can’t wait to get her alone. Please?” She batted her eyelashes. “For my birthday?”

  Jenn slid him an I-can’t-take-her-anywhere glance and shook her head. “She’s teasing. Ignore her.”

  “Am not. At least kiss her again and give that creep something to stew over.”

  “Suzanne.” Jennifer released a throaty laugh, one that made him think of tangled sheets. He checked out what he could see of her above the bar. Was her skin as soft as it looked? He found himself wanting to touch her and find out.

  “You didn’t like the first one?” Suzanne asked not-so-innocently.

  Nick stilled and waited for Jennifer’s response, a grin hovering on his lips because he found he was having fun. Given the way the evening had begun, fun was quite a surprise. “You didn’t like it?” he repeated, wondering if she’d give him a second chance. This time he’d go for a real kiss. Just one, to see what she tasted like.

  Jenn fisted her hands around her purse and groaned. “It’s not that,” she said with a low, embarrassed moan. “I just refuse to let her drag you into this—whatever this is with Todd—when everyone in town would know better than to think we’re an item. It’s so obvious we’re not compatible.”

  Compatible? Disappointment took hold. So that was it. But why had he expected her to be different? How many times had people taken one look at him and relegated him to the dumb-jock department because of his build and his professions? A grease monkey and a weight lifter. Great combination. Nobody needed brains for those jobs, right?

  “The kiss was sweet, and I appreciate the gesture. But we all know why Nick did it.”

  “Sweet?” Suzanne’s brows rose. “Nick, you’re losing your touch. Wait until I tell Tuck.”

  He straightened and established some distance. “Stop teasing her. We were playing around because of Dixon, that’s all.”

  Jenn bit her lip again, her teeth worrying the flesh and making him want to do the same, even though she’d made it clear she didn’t find him…what? Worth the price of her teacher’s reputation? He couldn’t blame her, though. How many college graduates would date a dropout? She might not know he didn’t have a diploma. But how long would it be before someone filled her in?

  Suzanne sighed dramatically. “Gotta tell you guys, from back there it looked as if you two were pretty compatible to me.” She stared hard at her friend. “At least compatible enough to work for a common goal as we discussed.”

  That got his attention. “What goal?”

  “Nothing,” Jenn said abruptly. “I’ve changed my mind. This probably isn’t a good idea.”

  “It is.” Suzanne nodded firmly. “You know it is.”

  “The champagne is wearing off. I can’t do this.”

  “You don’t need it to ask Nick a question.” Suzanne squirmed on her seat in excitement. “Why not use this opportunity to really put the screws to Mr. Little—”

  “Suzanne.”

  “Fine, whatever. Nick kissed you because Todd was staring, but why not use Nick’s animosity toward you-know-who’s-an-idiot to your mutual advantage? It’s obvious those two don’t get along,” she said, indicating Nick with a sweep of her hand. “What better way to rub your success in his face?”

  “If it’s a success. If the plan works. If I can do it.” She indicated Nick. “If he agrees to do it, which is doubtful.”

  “Agrees to what?” He fought his impatience. They were talking in circles.

  “With Nick’s help, you’re sure to succeed. Picture Todd’s face and tell me you don’t want him eating crow after that beach-worthy crack.”

  “You two going to fill me in on the woman-speak going on?”

  “Jenn, come on,” Suzanne wheedled. “Ask him. Please do this. For yourself, for me and every other woman out there who’s ever been screwed over by a jerk. You do this, and you give all of us the last laugh. What do you say?”

  Chapter 5

  NICK WATCHED as Jennifer Rose inhaled, her full chest rising and drawing his attention before he managed to force his gaze upward. He stared at her and waited.

  “Um…I don’t know where to begin.”

  “How about the beginning?” he urged, noting that two more groups of customers were heading out. Less than twenty people remained, Dixon included.

  “Well, Suzanne suggested…She thought we could help each other.”

  “I’m with you so far. How?”

  “I’ll tutor your son for the summer,” Jennifer said in a rush, as if she had to get the words out or choke on them.

  “Great.” The din of the jukebox, the big screens in the billiard area and the rapidly emptying bar and restaurant faded as they leaned toward one another across the broad expanse of polished wood. “But I get the feeling we’re not talking money here, are we?”

  “No.” She gulped, glanced at Suzanne and got the other woman’s nod of encouragement in return. “Instead of paying me—” she paused long enough to take another breath and close her eyes briefly “—I’d like membership to the gym and a personal trainer. I—I want—No, I need someone to kick my butt in gear so I can lose the weight I’ve gained since my divorce. But I have to do it quickly. Like, by the end of summer.”

  Nick didn’t blink. “That’s it? You want a membership and a trainer in exchange for tutoring?”

  “N-no. I mean, yes, I do, but…I have a dress. A really beautiful dress that I want to wear on a trip to Paradise Island. It’s important because the dress is…The dress is me. Who I want to be. And I have to fit into it.”

  “I see. Those are your conditions?”

  “No,” Suzanne interjected quickly. “We also want more of the same thing you displayed tonight.”

  Jenn turned toward her friend, her confusion apparent. “What do you mean?”

  “Nick has to be your guy friend.” Suzanne quickly held up her hand. “Not boyfriend, guy friend. You know, so other guys will take notice.”

  Jenn gaped at Suzanne.

  “You know how people are about checking out the girls who are hanging out with cool guys. Well, Nick’s not dating anyone right now so he, you,” she said, looking him in the eye, “have to pretend to like her. Well, not pretend. The real thing would be nice.”

  That wouldn’t be a problem—except for what she’d said earlier. If Jennifer Rose thought she had the right to insult his intelligence the whole time they
were together, they wouldn’t be hanging out long. He’d find another tutor.

  “Suzanne…”

  “I’m not asking for a marriage proposal here. Just point out her good qualities to the guys who ask, and do that whole ‘We’re just friends, but she’s hot’ thing that guys do. At least until Jenn reaches her goal or cuts you loose because someone comes along that she’s interested in.”

  “Suzanne. I didn’t—That’s not my idea. We didn’t discuss any of this.”

  “I’m improvising.” Suzanne waved a hand to dismiss Jennifer’s protest. “In exchange for tutoring Matt and getting him caught up over the summer, Jenn becomes your personal project. You can’t give up on her when she balks and tries to quit—which she will do. And she,” Suzanne continued, ignoring Jenn’s mutterings, “will get Matt up to speed.”

  “That’s not reasonable. Nick has things to do. Responsibilities.”

  “It’s fair,” Suzanne insisted. “You’re giving up a big part of your summer for Matt, and you’ll need intense workouts to lose the weight so quickly.”

  Jenn studied Nick, as though wanting to gauge his reaction.

  “And…”

  “There’s more?” Jennifer buried her face in her hands. “Oh, help me.”

  Nick fought a grim smile, not thrilled with the idea but able to see its merits.

  “Jenn reserves the right to add to her demands later, when she has more time to think with a clear head. Tutoring isn’t cheap, as I’m sure you’ve heard.”

  Neither was personalized training, but he didn’t mention that fact. Like it or not, he was too excited at the prospect of saving Matt and himself from a summer of listening to his parents rail about Matt’s grades and the whole summer-school fiasco. If it became public knowledge, all hell would break loose. Again.

  Even though Jennifer Rose looked horrified at her friend’s stipulations, Nick nodded without hesitation. She’d learn pretty quick that the last thing she wanted to do was anger her trainer and she’d keep her comments to herself. Short of that, he consoled himself with the knowledge that the summer would only last so long. “Deal.”

  “What? You’re not even going to argue? Think about it?” Jennifer rubbed her temples, the tiny lines around her eyes indicating a headache.

  Nick shrugged, wondering if by not thinking about it, Jenn would find him even more dense. “What’s to think about? I need a tutor, you need help, and Dixon has it coming.”

  “B-but the other…What about that?”

  Ah, so that’s what worried her, being seen with him. “Being your guy friend?” When he’d talked to her earlier, he wouldn’t have guessed her to be a judgmental snob. “What about it? People are going to notice us spending time together. What conclusions they draw are all their own. It’s not a big deal to me. Is it to you?”

  She sat there, wide-eyed and pale. “Oh. Um, no. Not at…No.”

  “So it’s a deal?” Suzanne pressed.

  Jennifer’s beautiful dove-colored eyes didn’t waver. “I want you to be sure. You’re sure?”

  Glancing around the bar and noting that the two older men who remained were watching the game and paid them no attention, he shrugged. “Business is business. I’m sure.”

  “But…”

  “No buts.” Suzanne nudged her friend. “You want that trip? This is your chance. Are you brave enough to take it?”

  Nick leaned down and opened the mini-fridge, pulling out three water bottles. No more champagne for Ms. Rose. Caps off, he lifted his bottle in a salute. “Here’s to the start of an interesting summer.”

  He and Suzanne both stared at Jennifer, waiting for her to commit to the plan.

  Finally she lifted her bottle. “To, um, wearing my dress and…and taking my dream vacation to Paradise Island.”

  “And last but not least,” Suzanne said with a snicker, “to dancing on tables. She wants to do that, too, you know.”

  “Suzanne!”

  THE POUNDING in her head went on and on.

  Jennifer opened her eyes the following morning only to gasp and groan, squeezing her lids shut in a feeble attempt to counteract the shards of pain shooting through her brain. Three glasses of champagne did this? Or was it four? Everything had gotten sort of fuzzy after two.

  “Drinking sucks.” She flung her arms over her face and moaned. What had she done? Had she really told Nick Tulane she lacked the ability to control her eating habits? Maybe she hadn’t said that in so many words, but close enough. She hadn’t gotten this way by eating healthy, that was for sure. “What must he think?”

  Thud, thud, thud. She paused, listened and wasn’t sure if the sound was the jackhammer pummeling her brain or something else. Then the doorbell rang. Jenn pushed herself up onto an elbow and glared at the clock beside her bed. Nine o’clock. On the first day of summer vacation? “Go away.”

  The words emerged as a whimper. She gingerly lowered herself and rolled over onto her side, pulling the pillow over her head.

  “Jennifer? Open up.” Thud, thud, thud. “Rise and shine. Time to get moving.”

  Her second-storey bedroom window was located over the front door and the muffled sound of Nick Tulane’s voice reached her like a shot. She jerked upright, held her head together with her hands and scooted to the edge of the bed, pausing long enough for the room to stop pulsating before she stumbled toward the window. The morning sun was blinding and she groaned long and loud when she finally pried her eyelids open and absorbed the fact that this wasn’t her imagination. Nick Tulane really was standing on her porch looking like a fantasy come true in workout gear, sex appeal oozing from every corded muscle revealed by his sleeveless shirt and loose knee-length running pants.

  “Shoot me now. I’m having a nightmare.” Her head thumped against the glass and Nick looked up at the sound. She pulled herself away but it was too late. Their eyes made contact the split second before the sheer curtain fell into place.

  “Ahhh, feeling the pain this morning, eh?” He released a devilish chuckle.

  Jenn’s shoulders slumped. What had she done? What had she agreed to? Enlisting Nick’s help had sounded like a wonderful plan last night, but in the light of day she saw a whole host of problems. She didn’t want a guy like Nick watching her and looking at her while she worked out. Didn’t want him seeing her sweaty and smelly and out of breath or…or jiggling in places that shouldn’t jiggle.

  “Deal’s a deal,” he drawled. “Do I need to come up there and get you out of bed myself? Come down, or I’m coming up.”

  “Oh, no. Please, no.” He couldn’t hear her through the glass, but Nick probably got the point when she stumbled away from the window. She grabbed a robe along the way and took the stairs very gingerly, so that her head wouldn’t implode. She made it all the way downstairs before she thought to look into a mirror.

  “Oh, crud.” Frantic, she rubbed at the eyeliner smudged beneath her eyes, attempted to tame the rat’s nest that was her hair and breathed into her cupped hand. “Ugh. Oh, my. Oh. Oh, that’s bad.” Hangover breath was not a good thing.

  Giving up on the impossible, she flipped the dead bolt to the side and cracked open the door. “N-Nick, thank you for coming by, but…I’ve changed my mind.”

  He tilted his head, his expression assessing. “How bad is it?”

  The irritating man looked determined—and amused. She disliked him even more. “You’re a morning person, aren’t you?”

  A thick black eyebrow arched at the accusation. “You’re not? Isn’t it a job requirement, doing what you do?”

  She leaned her head against the cool wood and sighed. “Look, I appreciate you coming over here, but I’ve changed my mind. Last night…I had a little too much to drink, as you could probably tell, and I shouldn’t have been making any decisions at all. I was in a mood and…You can go home now and enjoy your weekend.”

  She tried to close the door but Nick pressed a hand beside her head and gently but firmly pushed the door inward. Jenn back-stepped and grab
bed the belt of her robe. “What are you doing?”

  Those eyes of his—what man had eyes like that?—looked her up and down. “I’m getting tough. Exactly like I’m supposed to. And let’s get something straight. We have a binding contract, sweetheart. You’re not reneging.”

  “It’s okay. Really. I’ll still tutor your son.” It’s not as if I’ve got anything better to do this summer.

  Nick crossed his arms over his broad, extremely well-defined chest and stared her down. Every gorgeous inch of him was tanned and toned and rippled with muscle. His arms bulged below the dark blue-and-white shirt, and who knew the thick muscles along the side of a man’s neck could be so sexy? Nick put The Rock to shame, for pity’s sake. And there she stood, looking like something the cat coughed up. Twice.

  “As of right now, you are in boot camp.”

  He made the statement with a perfectly straight face although his eyes held a fiendish glint, as if he actually meant it. Awkwardness combined with her post-champagne queasiness, and her stomach rolled and threatened to mutiny.

  “And I’m your drill sergeant. Got that?”

  She swallowed firmly. Puking in front of this man was not an option. “This is ridi—”

  “This is me getting tough, so that you’ll fit into that dress of yours. Now, get your butt upstairs, shower and put on workout clothes. You’ve got fifteen minutes. I’ll fix you something to knock out the headache I see in your eyes, and after that we’ll talk about your fitness and diet regimen before we go for a walk.”

  Diet regimen? A walk? Workout clothes? She scrambled for an escape, clarity, something besides the big, fat nothing she had in her head. “But I didn’t mean for you to train me. I meant I’d tutor your son in exchange for a gym membership and a personal trainer. I thought we’d do the see-and-be-seen thing at the gym. You know, when we’re there at the same time. Don’t you have other people who’d help me?”

  He stiffened as though she’d insulted him. “Why not me?”

  How exactly did she put this? Especially when he already looked as though she’d hurt him? “Because you’re…the owner.” And gorgeous. Drop-dead, movie-star gorgeous. A man who belonged on a billboard advertising sleek sports cars—or underwear. Guys had to look really, really good to model underwear. But Nick? He could do it.