Meet Your Mate (A Good Riders Romance Book 1) (13 page)

“What will they say about that?”
She deepened her voice, imitating a newscaster’s dramatic intonations. “Twins
Caught Soliciting.”

“South of the border, at that.
Details at eleven.” He chuckled. “Or something worse. I’ll feel really bad
about it, too. She’s a nice lady.”

“And I’ll bet you donated money to
support her cause.”

Surprised by her perception, he held
the phone away from his ear and looked at it as if he could see her that way.
“Why do you say that?”

“You don’t ever just report the
stories. I’ve noticed you get personally involved and go the extra mile.”

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone.”

“They don’t call you The People’s
Reporter for nothing.”

“That’s just my public relations
team at work.” He brushed the embarrassing nickname aside.

“And in this case,” she continued,
“it hits the nail on the head. I’ve seen how people relate to you, from the
wine steward at Ernesto’s to
Shawntel
to the kids
from my documentary today. For a minute there, I was afraid they’d change their
mind and go in with you.”

“Are you kidding? They worship you.
They wouldn’t have abandoned you if I’d been handing out free Beyoncé tickets.”

“I’m glad we didn’t put it to the
test.”

“Speaking of tests, how did your
presentation go?”

“Pretty well.” Caution laced her
voice. “How about yours?”

“The same.”
Shawntel
had knocked the judges’ socks off, but no point in bragging. “Still feel like a
winner?”

“Yep.” She voice sounded more
desperate than confident.

“I’ll regret seeing you
disappointed when I win.”

“Hah. I’ll let you carry the trophy
out to the car for me.”

“Big of you. But if you should
happen to be so lucky as to win, won’t you have a big, strong somebody with you
to do the heavy lifting?”

After a long pause she asked, “You
mean like a guest? Or Carly?”

“No, not like a guest. More like an
escort. Or a date.”

“Ah, well, no. I had lined up
someone to go with me, but they—
he
had to cancel, and then I couldn’t
decide whom to favor out of my stable of admirers, and now it seems like too
short notice to have someone get their tux cleaned before Friday. Carly will
probably go with me. She’ll be happy to carry the hardware.”

He needed to proceed cautiously.
“I’ve been making the same excuses. I mean, if I ask someone to something this
special, they’ll read too much into it.”

“You don’t have a date either? What
about
Shawntel
?” He heard the surprise in her voice.

“Charley asked her to go with him.”

“At least
somebody
has a
date.”

“You know,” he said, oh, so
casually, “I’ve got a tuxedo all pressed and ready to go... and we’re going the
same place, at the same time. Think maybe we should go together?”

“On a date?” Her voice rose several
octaves.

“Of course not. You made it pretty
clear the other night there wasn’t any point in us going out with one another
again.”

“We’re too different.” She reminded
him of one of her primary excuses for not getting involved with him.

“Neither one of us want to be
serious about anyone.” He reminded her of another.

“We have our careers to think
about.”

He needed to get her back on track.
“It won’t be hard to think about them at the award ceremony.”

“God, no. Howard keeps implying my
professional future hinges on winning it.” The note of tension hummed through
the connection.

He’d never admit his hopes to just
anyone, but he didn’t mind revealing his career plans to Annabel. “Winning’s
kind of important to me, too.”

“How so? You’re already the best
reporter in Cincinnati.”

“There are other places besides
Cincinnati.”

“You said that the other night.
Would you really leave?”

“For a network job?”
How could
she doubt it?
“In a heartbeat. My agent thinks things are looking good, but
a win at the Community First could seal the deal.”

“So we both have a lot at stake.”

“But in the spirit of good
sportsmanship, the loser will swallow their disappointment and congratulate the
winner with a smile,” he suggested and upped the ante. “And a kiss.”

“And the winner will commiserate
with the loser,” she added.

“With a kiss. And no hard feelings
either way.”

“So we may as well do it.”

“Go together?”

“Sure. As friends?”

“As friends.” He agreed to the word
in principle, but in practice, he hated it.

“Anna!” Carly
hollered with her usual gusto from the foyer. “Come quick. He’s here.”

Annabel stepped into her shoes,
smoothed her dress, fluffed her hair, located her purse, and looked around for
something—anything—else to do. With nothing left undone, she ordered herself to
quit stalling and get her over-dressed fanny downstairs. She was going to the
award ceremony with Max. As a friend. They’d agreed on the terms.

He stood with his back to her,
looking out the front door, but she could see his reflection in the glass as
she descended the stairs. Was it fair for any kind of friend to look that good?
What had she been thinking, agreeing to go anywhere with a tuxedo-clad Max?
There should be a law against letting him loose in mixed company wearing one.

Every woman present—herself
included—would want to untie that tie and remove that vest. Slowly peel that
jacket off his hard body... Unfasten those studs... Slip the shirt off those
broad shoulders.
Yum!

She floated to the bottom of the
stairs before he noticed. He turned toward her when the rustling of her skirt
gave her away.

Or she assumed that’s what did it.
She’d never worn a Cinderella dress before and couldn’t believe she had one on
now. Originally, she’d bought a sensible black sheath to wear to the ceremony.
But once she’d agreed to go with Max, she returned it for this frivolous
confection she’d been secretly eyeing for weeks.

Layers and layers of diaphanous,
glittery gold billowed out around her, gathered together by a wide band that
suggested a deceptively tiny waist. The skimpy two strips of fabric that
comprised the halter top displayed her average-sized breasts to voluptuous
advantage. Carly had said Annabel looked amazing. Judging from Max’s heated
stare, he thought so, too, if the word “amazing” could be interpreted as
“slutty princess.”

“Wow, look at you.” He spun his
finger in a motion that directed her to turn around. “Let’s see the rest of
it.”

She twirled for him. She actually
twirled. She’d never twirled on command in her life, but Max had her wanting to
do all kinds of things she’d never done before.

He made a low wolf whistle when she
pirouetted to a stop in front of him. “Backless. Fantastic. You’re not all
buttoned up” He reached out and stroked the deceptively casual riot of curls
that grazed her shoulders. The gentle caress resonated all the way down to her
painted toenails. “I’m glad you left your hair down.”

“Thanks. And I’m glad we decided to
go to this together.” She pressed a hand against the drunken butterflies
stumbling around in her stomach. “I’m much more nervous than I anticipated.”

“Don’t be. You’ll be the hottest
woman there—even after I win the award.”

Her laugh came out much too loud and
high pitched. “Just imagine, the hottest woman there with the best-looking guy
and the winner of the award. It’ll be the most outstanding night of my life.”

He tipped back his head, flashed
his perfect white teeth, and laughed out loud, something she hadn’t seen him do
before. It marked a refreshing change from his on-camera smile, the charming
one he used to get his way, and the mocking one that appeared when he wanted to
put her in her place. Laughter made him look younger and boyishly handsome instead
of worldly and smugly sexy. She relaxed a little. Maybe young and boyish she
could handle. Worldly and smugly sexy scared the wits out of her.

“Well, just in case you need it, I
brought you something for luck.”  He handed her a white florist’s box he’d
obviously placed on the side table earlier.

Flowers. Another first. Tears
welled up in her eyes. She gulped and gave him a wobbly smile.

Carly burst through the door. “Wait
’til you see.” She pointed outside. “It’s the coolest thing ever.”

Relieved by the interruption,
Annabel yanked her emotions back in line. “Cooler than the Harley?” She
pictured the repaired Porsche as tonight’s mode of transportation. She hoped
her dress didn’t get too squished riding in it.

“Totally different, but just as
cool. Ooh, and look, he brought you flowers. What kind?”

“As if you didn’t know,” Max said
to Carly.

“He called me to see what color
your dress was,” Carly confided, then grinned cheekily at Max. “I just wanted
to make sure you got it right.”

“There was no need for a conspiracy,”
Annabel said to him. “You could have asked me.”

“That would have ruined the
surprise.” The satisfaction of his smile oozed masculinity.

Her heart took another leap.
“Everything you do surprises me.” She reminded herself of his reputation. She
shouldn’t take any of this personally. Or seriously. Even so, her hands shook
as she opened the box. “How beautiful. Thank you.”

She lifted the corsage of ivory
roses surrounded by lily of the valley out of the green paper and
sniffed.  The flowers smelled almost as good as her date…
er
, escort…
er
, friend for the
evening.

“Yeah, they’re beautiful.” Her
stepdaughter dismissed them after a cursory glance. “Good job, Max. Come on,
Anna, I can’t wait for you to see this.” Carly dropped Annabel’s glittery shawl
around her shoulders, then led her to the door. As Annabel stepped outside,
Carly spread her arms wide. “Ta dah!”

Annabel gasped at the sight of a
sleek black limo parked in her driveway.

“The driver’s name is Eduardo.
Isn’t that just scrumptious?”

The uniformed man in the
traditional driver’s cap stepped up and opened the rear door.

Carly ran to the car and hopped
into the back seat first. “Look, there’s champagne, TV, a DVD player, sound
system, and everything.”

Annabel lifted her brows at Max.
“Champagne?”

Mischief twinkled in his eyes as he
guided her to the limo. “We’ll have something to celebrate afterward.”

“My victory or yours?”

“Somebody’s,” he said. “Maybe it’ll
be a tie.”

The scrumptious Eduardo moved to
help her in, but Max wouldn’t have it. His hand held her elbow and set her skin
to tingling as she slid into the backseat.

“Why did you do this?” All the
effort he’d made touched her so deeply she could barely speak.

Carly bounced on the seat across
from Annabel. Max slid as close to Annabel as the full skirts allowed and took
her hand in his. “Carly scolded me for not using the car and driver the station
offered for our
Let’s Talk
date.”

“So you did this for her?”

“She thought you’d enjoy it.” His
shrug made light of the gesture, as if it was nothing. Suddenly the gesture
seemed very much like something. Something important. But no, that couldn’t be.

Just one more thing to check off
the list of things she’d never done before. Going on a fancy date in a limo
with a blistering hot guy. Check. And somehow, without mentioning any of them
to him, Max was working his way down the list.

“Are you ready to go, sir?” Eduardo
asked.

“As tempting as it is to be the
escort of
two
beautiful women instead of one,” Max said, pointing a finger
at Carly, “this one has to get out.”

“Already? “ The winsome teen gave
him her version of puppy-dog eyes. “Maybe you can drop me off at the library.
We can watch TV on the way. It’s almost time for
Jeopardy
.”

“Nice try.” Annabel smiled at her
enthusiasm. “But if you’re such a big fan, go watch it inside. You don’t want
us to be late.”

“Oh, snap. I can tell when I’m not
wanted.” She hugged Annabel and seemed to surprise Max by hugging him, too.
“Don’t forget, Anna, I’m spending the night at Logan’s. Call or text to let me
know what happens with the award.” She ducked her head back inside the door the
second before the driver closed it behind her. “I hope at least one of you gets
lucky tonight.”

“I hope we both do.” Max squeezed
Annabel’s hand as the limo pulled away from the curb.

And once more, she wondered just
how serious he was about maintaining this friendship thing. And how serious she
wanted him to be.

Max’s distaste for monkey suits and
the type of events that required them faded as he watched Annabel’s fascination
with the glitz and glamour around her. Her wide-eyed wonder provided him with
the most fun he’d had with his clothes on in a long time.

Everyone who was anyone in
Cincinnati rubbed elbows in the star-studded River Room at the top of the
city’s fanciest hotel. Politicians and philanthropists, media personalities and
sports figures abounded. Half the individuals present lived in or for the
spotlight. Inflated egos in the room outran the humility quotient ten-to-one.

Max tried to steer Annabel to their
assigned table without fanfare, but Roger and too many other colleagues from
the station were covering the event to let him go unnoticed.

Tess, the award-ceremony emcee,
looked very smug at seeing Max and Annabel together. She waited until Annabel
had excused herself for a moment before heading his way. The talk show hostess
kept her gaze moving to make sure she gained maximum exposure from the other
luminaries in the vicinity as she questioned Max about his television date with
Annabel.

“Haven’t you got the footage from
Roger yet?” Even though his appearance on her show had started out as a
promotional stunt, he felt a flash of resentment about sharing the details of
what had now become a private matter.

She looked past Max to Annabel’s
return trek with an appraising glance. “Yes, and I saw the sparks flying, but I
didn’t think things would develop this quickly. Come on.” She leaned over and
whispered her signature line in his ear. “Tell Tess all about it.”

He took a step back from the overly
ripe breasts that brushed his arm and the heavy perfume that gagged him.
“There’s nothing to tell, Tess.”

“Hmmm.” She tapped a brilliant red
fingernail against lips painted the same color. “I thought you said she didn’t
like you. The Ice Queen sure melted under the heat of your,
uhm
,
personality, didn’t she? Does she know how indiscriminately you spread your
heat around?”

He groaned over the description.
“She knows all about it, and I told you, it’s nothing like that.” He turned to
follow Annabel’s progress with his gaze. That gauzy dress clung to her body
like sugar crystals in some places and floated around her like a cloud in
others. Her charms weren’t as obvious as
Shawntel’s
or Tess’s, yet Annabel drew her own share of appreciative glances. Including
his old buddy Tim’s.

What the hell was that snake doing
here besides slithering up to flirt with Annabel? An unfamiliar and annoying
prickle of disapproval stabbed him right between the eyes.

“You should call me tomorrow and—”

”Excuse me, Tess.” He ignored her
frown of displeasure as he hurried to rescue Annabel.

While Max picked up his pace, she
sidestepped Tim’s hand on her elbow, avoided the palm he tried to plant on her
bare back, and withdrew from the overly gallant, slobbering wrist-kiss Tim
tried to administer. Max closed in as the bastard dropped his hand to her
bottom.

“Sorry, I got delayed.” Max raised
his voice from a few feet away.

“No problem.” Annabel turned toward
him gratefully, evading Tim’s attempt at draping his arm around her shoulders.

“When I saw Annabel alone, I just
couldn’t resist—” Tim pulled back after Max turned the full force of glare on
him “—the opportunity to wish her good luck tonight.” He socked Max on the arm.
“You, too, buddy.”

“Your support means the world to
me.” Max socked him back, harder than necessary. “Come on, Annabel, we should
take our seats.”

“Great to see you again, Annabel.”
Tim, the rat bastard, leaned over to kiss her cheek, but met only air. She
shifted away before he could make actual contact. “Maybe we can dance later.”

“Maybe,” Annabel allowed.

“Don’t hold your breath,” Max
advised his buddy over his shoulder. Was it just his imagination or did she
inch closer to him for protection? Max should have punched the lowlife harder.
And lower. Next time he saw Tim, he’d warn the jerk to keep his paws to himself
around a nice woman like Annabel.

When they arrived at their assigned
table, her slimy boss, Howard Lasting, had arrived with his brittle wife. Max
genuinely enjoyed every facet of the female gender, but Sylvia Lasting didn’t
offer much to admire. She was one of those whipcord-thin women whose sense of
humor matched her appetite—non-existent. Charley
Asherton
and
Shawntel
were present, too, but they were too
wrapped up in one another to be much company for anyone else.

Max couldn’t see that match-up
going anywhere, but Charley, a two-time loser in the marriage game, seemed awe-struck
with
Shawntel
. Such a sweetheart, she deserved some
happiness with someone who wouldn’t use her and drop her. Max would make sure
Charley understood the rules.