That Guy (An Indecent Proposal Book 1) (2 page)

“Not us. Not today.” His hands began to rub up and down my
arms, as though to soothe me, but the motion only managed to send a layer of
ice down my spine.

For a while, we just stood there, rivulets of sweat running
down my spine. The whole space, as small as it was, had the temperature of a
sauna.

“It’s so hot,” I whispered. “I really can’t breathe.”

“You can do it, Laurie. Focus on my voice. Focus on taking
slow, deep breaths through your nose, and exhale through your mouth. That’s all
that matters now. Nothing else.”

I forced more air into my lungs, but even though oxygen
reached my brain, somehow it didn’t have the desired calming effect on me. “The
funny thing is, I’m not ready to die,” I said weakly, squeezing his hands for
support.

“You won’t.” His determined tone left no room for
discussion. “Tell me something about yourself.” He was trying to divert my
attention from the situation at hand, only it didn’t work. “Where do you live?
What do you like doing in your free time?”

“There’s nothing to tell. I’m boring.”

A sexy little laugh, then, “I highly doubt that, Laurie. You
sound like an interesting person.”

In spite of myself, I smiled. He had no idea how wrong he
was. “No, really. I’m a bore.”

“Well, try me. I’m in no hurry.”

Neither was I. We’d probably been stuck for more than two
hours, and I needed a distraction.

“Laurie,” he prompted, hesitating. Or maybe he was having
trouble breathing as well. And then I noticed it: a slight shaking and
vibrating of the walls. It stopped almost as quickly as it had started.

His hands let go of me. Clothes rustled, and something
dropped to the floor with a muffled thud. Then his hands were back on me, his
bare skin brushing mine in the process, his fingers holding mine.

I realized he must have taken off his jacket and rolled up
his sleeves. The air was getting hot. It wasn’t just my imagination. Suddenly,
I had a vision of dying without clearing my conscience. If I couldn’t do all
the things I had envisioned I’d be doing with my life, if I died and all the
things about heaven and hell were true, then I needed to at least relieve my conscience.

Confess.

Acknowledge my mistakes to find absolution.

Well, you get the point.

“You think I’m interesting?” I asked, not waiting for his
answer. “Okay, I’ll tell you something about me. I have five secrets. Five
secrets I don’t want to carry with me to the grave. Probably the only five
things that don’t render me a complete bore.”

“You’re being melodramatic. It’s just a technical glitch.
People are—”

“Coming to rescue us. Yeah, got it.” I rolled my eyes
because I didn’t believe a word he said. “Except that it sure felt like an earthquake,
and everyone’s probably gone.”

“Earthquakes happen all the time. And people return for
those left behind. So, what are your secrets?”

The air was getting all hot and stuffy because the air
conditioning was no longer working. Already my lungs were burning, and my head
was dizzy. It was only a matter of time until we ran out of oxygen, and he knew
it.

“You want to hear them? Well, I’m scared of dark places. Any
dark place,” I said. “Always have been, and this is my worst nightmare.”

“You don’t need to be scared. I’m here. Being stuck in an
elevator is not a big deal. And a lot of people are scared of the dark, but
once you know it’s just in your mind, your imagination, your fear talking,
you’ll get over it.”

I smiled bitterly. “You’re great at this. You really are.
And if I had to go through this all over again and I could choose one person to
be stuck in an elevator with, it’d probably be you. But that doesn’t change
anything. I’m still scared out of my mind. It’s—”

“Nyctophobia.”

“Yeah, that.”

In the darkness, I could feel the smile on his lips, and for
a moment I took the time to imagine him. But all that came out was a fuzzy
picture of blue eyes and a soft, sexy smile.

Maybe lopsided.

Or dimples, because I was a sucker for those.

“What’s number two?” His voice was hoarse now. Definitely
trouble breathing.

“I’m buried in student and credit card loans. It’s so bad,
it’s unreal. Last week I said to my best friend Jude that if I didn’t get this
interview, I’d fake my resume just to get a job. Any job. She laughed about it,
but I meant it. I’m really that desperate.”

“The depravity of it,” Sexy Voice said. Was he mocking me? I
had just opened my mouth to speak with a comeback burning on the tip of my
tongue when he cut me off. “I think, given the circumstances, it’s
understandable. It doesn’t make you a bad person…unless you pretend to be a
dentist. My point is, there’s far worse out there.”

“Probably.” I sucked in a deep breath and regretted it
instantly. My head felt so dizzy, I feared I might just pass out. I had to
hurry up if I wanted to get to the highlight of my little confession.

“I guess we all revert to lying and cheating if we want to
achieve something, because there’s no other way to get there. What about the
next one?” Sexy Voice said, as though reading my mind.

“You’re not bored yet?”

“Not yet. It’s definitely getting interesting.” His fingers
brushed my wrist, and in spite of the macabre of the situation, I found myself
relishing his touch, maybe enjoying it a bit more than was proper.

The next point on my little list was a little tricky. “I’m
twenty-two, and yet I’m a virgin,” I said before I could stop myself.

“Maybe you never found find the right person, or the right situation,”
he whispered after a slight pause.

I laughed, fighting the need to elaborate. “You have an
excuse for everything, don’t you?”

“I’m just a realist.”

“Or an optimist.” With a sexy voice, and a sexy body, and a
face I couldn’t remember. Too bad we were about to suffocate, or else I might
have found myself just a little bit drawn to this one.

The darkness before my eyes began to spin. If it weren’t for
his strong arms around me, I would have dropped to the floor, too weak to sit
up straight. “I might need to cut to the last point on my list,” I said. “And
it’s a big one. I have carried it all my life.”

“Hold on to me,” he whispered.

I was. More than he’d ever know.

“Someone died because of me.” My voice came so low and faint,
I wasn’t sure he could hear me. “I’ll never be able to live with myself.”

Silence. For a second, I wondered if he had even heard me.

“I’m sure it wasn’t like that. It was an accident,” he said
at last.

No hesitation.

No blame.

No mistrust.

Either he was a good person and believed in the good in
people, or he was trying to keep the conversation light because of our
situation, and then sprint for the nearest exit—if we ever made it out
alive.

I shook my head. “You don’t know me. You know nothing about
me.”

Another pause. A few seconds passed, during which I could
hear his breathing, slow and steady, but slightly labored.

“Lay down,” he whispered. “The air’s cooler on the floor.”

Didn’t he hear what I’d just told him? He tugged at my hand,
and I did as instructed.

His arms wrapped around me and he drew me to his chest. I
nestled in his arms.

The minutes passed, and the alarm continued to blare. With
every second, breathing became harder. If out of a lack of oxygen or something
else, I couldn’t tell.

“No one’s coming for us, are they?” I whispered inaudibly,
my face buried against his strong chest. He smelled so good it was impossible
to resist his scent.

“We should do something to take our mind off it,” he
whispered. His voice had become quiet, shaky, heavy, and—was that fear?

“What?”

“I could kiss you,” he whispered.

His hands cupped my face. I looked up, my gaze searching him
in the darkness, when I realized that this might just be our last moment.

I might die with a stranger.

“Laurie?” he asked, his voice drawing me to reality.

“I don’t even know your name,” I whispered.

He chuckled. “It doesn’t matter now, does it?”

No, not really. “I want to kiss you, too.”

In a bold moment, I raised my mouth to meet his. He ran a
thumb across my lips before our mouths connected, warm and tender. For a
second, I could sense his hesitation, and then his lips opened to claim my
mouth with a hunger that took my breath away.

The sound of an alarm continued to carry over, but I didn’t
care. All I wanted were this stranger’s lips on mine and the hot waves of want
he sent through me, helping me to forget, keeping me alive—on the brink
of sanity—with nothing but a kiss. I had never felt this way before. I
had never been in such a state of fear and gratitude that I wasn’t alone. Then
again, I had never been so close to dying.

My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, our
mouths meeting once more, when something hard crashed against the walls,
resulting in a loud thud. I turned my head toward the door.

A shrill noise, like metal scratching against metal, echoed,
followed by the sound of a different alarm, the noise increasing in volume. I
pressed my palms against my ears, and watched how something pried the door
open.

“They’re here for us,” I said, relief streaming through me.
He didn’t say anything.

“Did you hear what I just said?” I asked again, touching
him. “You were right. They came back for us.”

Suddenly, a bright light blinded me. I raised my hand to
shield my eyes from the blinding brightness.

Arms wrapped around me and pulled me to my feet, and
something cold was pressed against my face. I inhaled automatically, then with
more fervor as I realized someone was holding an oxygen mask against my mouth
and nose.

“I’ve got her,” a male voice yelled in my ear, the sound
almost as loud as the blaring in the background. “We’re coming out now.”

My head snapped back toward the elevator, in the stranger’s
direction, and I opened my mouth to speak. To my dismay, I realized he wasn’t
behind me, or maybe I couldn’t see him through the thick curtain of charcoal
smoke that had filled the hall.

“No. Please help him,” I croaked, planting my feet firmly on
the ground, but the arms around me were stronger. My voice could barely reach
my ears, let alone penetrate the shrill sound of the alarm.

Struggling against the iron grip, I was carried away before
I could turn to get a glimpse of the stranger in the elevator. “No,” I pleaded.
“Please. You’ve got to help him. Please.”

But my voice was too weak to get anyone’s attention.

As I was carried down flights and flights of stairs, I
glimpsed more people being helped out—their faces reflecting their shock
and disbelief. Figuring someone might need it more than I did, I tried to
remove the oxygen mask, but my rescuer pressed it against my mouth, his gesture
urging me forcefully to keep it on. Eventually we burst through the reception
area and onto the street outside, where hundreds of evacuated office workers
and onlookers had gathered, some filming the event on their cell phones, others
commenting loudly.

“I’m fine,” I said to a concerned woman and scanned the
faces around me, even though I knew better than to expect a miracle.

My heart was slamming so hard against my chest, I was sure
it would break. If the stranger had been rescued, he couldn’t possibly find me
in the crowd, not least because we hadn’t exchanged names. We didn’t even know
what the other person looked like. As I was guided to the waiting medical
assistance, a crashing sound rang behind me so loud that the rumble rocked my
body and the ground beneath my feet vibrated. A cloud of dust billowed into the
sky.

My heart stopped.

“The library,” a woman in the crowd shouted. “It’s the
library. It’s gone.”

“The whole floor’s collapsed.”

“People are still trapped inside,” a fireman shouted into
what looked like a radio, and began to gesticulate. “Send another unit. I
repeat, send another unit. We need as many people as possible.”

Oh, my god.

I stared at the building, my fingers clasped over my mouth
in shock as the disaster unfolded. I didn’t know if he had survived, but I
hoped he was safe. That he had made it out in time. Chances were slim. I
realized if he didn’t survive, he’d be my sixth secret—the man with the
sexy voice whose name I didn’t know.

***

Thank you for reading THAT GUY, which is a prequel novella
to AN INDECENT PROPOSAL. The full-length novel, An Indecent Proposal, will be
out on February 23rd, 2015.

Please join our mailing list:
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AN INDECENT PROPOSAL PREVIEW

Chapter 1

I needed a husband—and fast. Not literally, of course.
Just for the weekend, or as long as my stepfather would be in town. A
relationship was the excuse I had given for not visiting Waterfront Shore for
the last three years. Three years of running away from the place of my dreams
and nightmares, and a past better left buried forever. And now my lie was
catching up with me, because there was no husband or fiancé in sight, not even
a boyfriend or a date to play the part.

“Hire an actor,” said Jude, who was looking up from her
computer screen. “In fact, he’s perfect.” She jumped up and headed over to me,
her chiffon dress revealing long, tanned legs as she sat down on the sofa and
tucked her legs beneath her. I stared open-mouthed at the half-naked model on
the screen. He looked hot, no doubt about it, but he also looked—

“Desperate,” I mumbled to myself.

“I wouldn’t exactly call you ‘desperate.’ More like
‘inventive’ or—”

“Thanks,” I muttered, cutting her off. “But I was talking
about the guy.”

For a moment we remained silent as I read the text beneath
the picture of a man with a strong chin, dark brown hair, and eyes the color of
an ocean shimmering in the sunlight, a shade of eye color I’d never seen
before. I figured it was either Photoshopped, or they were contact lenses,
which only managed to fortify my first impression of him.

Desperate. Plain desperate. And his description in his own
words didn’t help improve his image, either.

Chase is a very nice,
humorous, and down-to-earth lover of female beauty. He knows how to cook and
offers to carry things when shopping.

“He sounds dreamy,” Jude gushed.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes at her. “He sounds like a
bellboy with playboy aspirations. Either that, or he’s a crook waiting for
gullible women to fall for his creepy charm. I bet the profile’s fake.”

Oblivious to my sarcasm, or maybe she was just ignoring me,
Jude picked up the phone and dialed the number in his contact details. I stared
at her, not believing that she was going for it. I figured she’d come to her
senses the moment she heard the guy’s voice, which I imagined was old and
cheesy, and even creepier than the fake profile.

“Hey, is that Chase?” Jude held her breath as she listened,
then gave me the thumbs-up.

I shook my head in exasperation and dashed for the kitchen
to grab a bottle of water, then pressed my back against the cold wall as I
forced myself to take slow sips. Maybe Jude had time to waste on yet another
one of her usual absurd ideas, but one of us had to keep her feet firmly
planted on the ground. Hiring an actor to play my husband wasn’t going to
happen because it would only backfire.

Just tell the truth,
Hanson. How hard can it be?

I swallowed. It wasn’t an option. Not even a possibility. If
the truth came out, it’d kill me, meaning I’d have to come up with a plan.

“Guess who’s got a date tonight,” Jude singsonged from the door.
I turned my head wearily to regard her. Her cheeks were flushed, and there was
a strange glint in her eyes, like she had just run a few miles, or had marathon
sex. She grabbed the water bottle out of my hands and took a swig, then handed
it back to me. “Come on, play along.”

I shot her a desolate look.

Please. Let this be a
joke.

“Who?” I asked halfheartedly.

“You, Hanson. Chase is picking you up at seven,” she gushed,
and I couldn’t keep my shoulders from dropping. “You two are going to have
dinner, during which you can talk about the job, and, who knows, one thing
might just lead to another.“ She winked, leaving the rest unspoken. Usually, I
would have laughed at her dirty imagination, but right now all I could do was
stare at her, open-mouthed. Cold and hot chills ran down my spine at the
realization that with
picking up
she
actually meant the guy was coming over.

“You gave the creep my home address?” My voice sounded thin,
but there was a menacing undertone in it that didn’t escape even Jude.

“How else was he supposed to pick you up?” She shrugged
defensively, but there was unease in her eyes. “Besides, I didn’t give him your
real name.”

“That’s a relief,” I said, fighting the urge to shake some
much-needed sense into her. “Let’s hope he can’t read the correct name on the
mailbox or ask the concierge. Or remember my face and stalk me home from the
grocery store.”

“He won’t. He sounds like a pretty nice guy.” She nodded,
probably trying to convince herself as much as me.

Yeah, like sociopaths didn’t usually masquerade as nice
guys.

I sighed inwardly and changed the topic to more pressing
issues.

“All right. How much is he charging for the first hour?” I
asked casually. “Surely, if he’s a professional actor, he’s mentioned his
rates.”

“Actually”—she looked so guilty I knew she was about
to drop the next bomb—“Chase said the first hour is free so you can get
to know each other. He’s saving you money.” Jude beamed. “Isn’t he great?”

“It’s free?” I said slowly. “Since when is something free?
Jude, are you realizing how he sounds? He sounds like a major creep with that
little extra killer factor thrown in. Like someone who—”

“I think I got the message,” Jude said, cutting me off, her
lips pressed into a tight line that reflected her annoyance. I just couldn’t figure
out if it was aimed at herself or me. “You’ll be okay, right, Laurie? If
something happens, you’ll call me, and I’ll come and pick you up.”

I laughed darkly. As emergency plans went, calling her was a
no-brainer under normal circumstances. However, these weren’t exactly normal
circumstances. If something bad happened to me…I doubted I’d be able to call
while he was busy harvesting my organs and selling them on the black market.

“Besides, he looks too hot to be a madman,” she said.

“I guess you’re right,” I said sarcastically. I should have
been angry with Jude for making this hole I had dug myself even deeper, but we
had been best friends for a long time. We were never angry at each
other—that was the secret of our friendship. Besides, the fear in her eyes
told me she realized that she’d made a mistake, one she couldn’t wait to
rectify.

“Phone him back and call the whole thing off, Jude.”

Narrowing her eyes at me, she shook her head vehemently.
“No.”

“No?” I asked incredulously, realizing the glint in her eyes
wasn’t one of fear. She was
proud
of
her brainless plan and excited to get the ball rolling.

“I’ve just sorted out all your worries. Just like that.” She
snapped her manicured fingers in my face. “And you’re being an ungrateful
little brat. Now, get a life, which you desperately need, Hanson, and start
planning your outfit for your date with the most gorgeous guy you—or I,
for that matter—have ever seen, because we want to make quite the
impression. Come on, we have less than two hours left.”

Before I could protest, she grabbed my arm and yanked me
after her. I had no choice but to follow, albeit hesitantly, because the
prospect of meeting a complete stranger both fascinated and terrified me.

What if he turned out to be completely illiterate? Or arrogant
to the point of being a complete ass? I didn’t want to have to find a lame
excuse to get the hell out of there, because I was the worst liar, and no one
ever bought my bluffs.

“I don’t want to go.” It was a weak attempt at protest, but,
truth be told, deep inside I had sort of made the decision long before I even
realized it. Jude’s plan, as odd and completely absurd as it sounded, was the
only option I had at this point. If Chase was only half as good-looking and
cultured as he gave the impression in his online profile, and as nice as Jude
believed, he might just be fake-fiancé material…if he agreed to play along and
didn’t kill me in the first place.

“What about this?” Jude retrieved my little black dress and
held it up.

I grimaced at her, mortified. “I want to hire him, not bed
him.”

“Or you could do both,” Jude said, grinning.

Jude was a free-spirited soul, but not as free of
inhibitions as she liked to pretend to be. Basically, she dated—a
lot—but she never jumped into bed with any of the guys, because by the
end of the second date she had already found a long list of things to fault,
which she hid behind a sparkling smile and a run to the bathroom in order to
call me in a desperate attempt to come get her. And every time it was my job to
help her out by finding excuses as to why she couldn’t see her dates again. It
had been like this ever since we met in college and bonded over a watery chai
latte served in the café across from her grandparents’ townhouse. After telling
hundreds of lies to cover for her over the years, I would have expected to be
an expert in lying, but fat chance.

Sighing, I threw the dress on the bed and squeezed into a
pair of skinny jeans, a black shirt, and a suit jacket that was fitted but
covered only half of my butt. Once I’d paired the outfit with flat boots and my
fake diamond earrings, and with my hair piled up on my head, I thought I looked
modern and fun, but also conservative—yet not too severe to give the
impression I might have scared off every guy entering my life, and consequently
might be to blame for my current unattached status.

Unattached status.

I despised those two words strung together because they
sounded like an incurable disease. Given that I was only twenty-three, there
was still hope. Unfortunately, some people in my life thought differently,
which was why I had fled across the country to be far away from Waterfront
Shore. Far away from high expectations and an old life that harbored too many
dark secrets.

Regarding myself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, I couldn’t
help but give an approving nod at my reflection. The jeans emphasized my butt,
drawing attention away from the wide hips I used to hate as a teen. The shirt
sat tight around my bust, but slightly loose around the waist area so I
wouldn’t look like a stuffed turkey. And the jacket gave me an academic flair
that screamed “business administration professional.” I might not be as tall
and thin as Jude, or as stunningly pretty, but I knew how to complement my
strong points, which were my eyes and my full lips painted in a sheer burgundy
red. I was so pleased with my choice of attire that I turned to Jude proudly.

“How do I look?”

“Well, you certainly won’t have to fend off any advances, if
that’s what you’re so worried about. It’s, simply put, hideous.” Jude pointed
at my suit jacket, grinning. “You sure you want to wear that?
I
wouldn’t hit on you dressed like
that.”

I turned back to the mirror to give myself a critical
once-over. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Better ask, what’s
not
wrong with it. It reminds me of an eighties music video, and not in a good
way.”

Jude loved surfing YouTube for old and horrendous music
videos. She said it helped with her job as an Internet entrepreneur. After
watching her dabble in this and that for the last two years, building websites
and blogging, I was still not sure how exactly she was doing it job-wise, but
she made more money than I did and paid more than half her share of the bills,
so who was I to complain? I loved this jacket and should have felt offended,
but the beauty of our friendship was that whatever the other said was accepted
as constructive criticism. Given that Jude was also a bit of a fashion fanatic,
I knew I should listen to her advice, which I usually did.

Just not today.

“The jacket’s staying. End of discussion,” I said, and began
to apply a thin layer of lipstick. “I’m not meeting this guy to impress him.
I’m hiring a professional actor, so he’d better be good and decent. If he so
much as looks like a creep, never mind talking or behaving like one, I promise
I’ll hold you responsible for the rest of your life. After all, it was your
idea.”

“Relax.” Jude laughed. “Tonight isn’t just any night. It’s
your big night.”

No idea what she meant by that, and I certainly didn’t want
to know.

By five to seven, I was more nervous than I cared to admit.
I hadn’t been on a date in forever. Come to think of it, it had been more than
two years. It wasn’t from a lack of requests and interest, but more that I was
a busy person. There had been college and my search for work, which took up
most of my time now.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. I don’t even have time for
Chase,” I muttered. His name rolled off my tongue so naturally, it was almost
scary. Like it belonged there, with all the implications a sexy male name
brought with it.

There, I had said it. He sounded sexy as hell and even
looked the part. And we were going to spend time together.

This isn’t a date,
Hanson.

Damn right it wasn’t. We were talking a business
proposition. A job—if he was half civilized and up for playing the doting
fiancé bull. Unfortunately, the knowledge that he was an actor probably
desperate to be hired wasn’t helping in taking the edge off.

“Hey.” Jude snapped her fingers in my face again. I flinched
and shot her a WTF look. She glared at me, but there was something strange
about her. She was laughing at me, I realized.

Damn it!

Jude knew I was nervous, and she enjoyed every
torture-filled second. My cheeks caught fire. I could feel the onset of a blush
crawling all over my face and neck, and spreading down to my chest.