Accidental Sex Goddess (23 page)

“Shit.” Ben ran a hand through his hair. “This is such a mess.”

Halie narrowed her eyes. “Did she tell you phone sex was one of her steps?”

Ben crossed his arms. “Yes. She said—” He dropped his arms.
Fuck.
“She asked what I would do if phone sex was her next step.”

Mark grunted. “I guess you gave her your answer, didn’t you?”

Ben tilted his head back and looked at the gray October sky. He missed her so damn much. Two weeks and she wasn’t taking his calls. Not that he could blame her.

Reese had been right. He’d been afraid. Terrified. He hadn’t been enough for Lisa, his first love, his first heartbreak. And the idea of Reese sleeping with Mark had sent that old terror through him. Not being enough. Not measuring up.

“Are you going to win her back or not?” Halie asked.

“She won’t take my calls,” Ben grumbled. Damn. He sounded like a whiny little shit.

Mark was looking at him, that expectant eyebrow raised.

“Maybe I can help,” Halie said.

Ben glared at her. “You’ve helped enough.”

“Just hear me out?”

And because he had no better ideas aside from staging a sit-in protest at Reese’s condo, he listened.

By the end of the conversation, Mark was grinning and Ben was feeling something in his chest he thought might have been hope. The feeling scared him enough that his fingers shook slightly as he sent the text to Reese.

I won’t be able to be in your auction on Saturday. I’ll get Luke to come in my place
.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Ben scratched a few more notes about McCormack Manor as he made a final tour. His crew would start work here as soon as they finished the Granger job.

“She’s a beauty,” someone said from behind him.

Ben turned around to see his father standing in the old mansion’s musty ballroom, Mark behind him.

“Dad? What are you doing here?”

His dad shoved his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunching slightly. He seemed smaller somehow, as if he’d suddenly aged fifteen years. Had Ben just not been paying attention?

“Mark brought me,” his father said, his voice creaking like the wooden hallways of the Manor. “He thought I should see the kind of job you’ve been getting Hawk Construction.”

Ben looked to Mark.

Mark pointed his thumb to the front of the house. “I’m going to wait out front.”

Something tightened in Ben’s chest as his brother winked at him then turned to go.

“I don’t want you to give you the wrong impression, Dad,” Ben said when Mark was gone. “This may be the only job like this we ever get.”

His dad nodded. “Yeah, but you’re going for ’er. You’ve got that in you. Not afraid to try for something better.” He rocked back on his heels. “Me? I was always too scared to lose what I had to go after something better.”

Ben’s throat grew thick and he thought of Reese, thought of how he’d lost her to Lance, thought of what might have been if he’d given her more of himself five years ago. “I get scared too,” he said. “I like to think it’s never too late to try for something better.”

Was that his voice? It sounded small and vulnerable. Like he was a little boy again, trying to get his father’s attention over his louder, bigger, more boisterous older brother.

The old man looked to the picture window that looked out into the gardens. “I’m proud of you,” he said, the words sounding awkward off his dried lips. “You might think Mark’s the favorite, but I love you both. That boy just needs help finding himself. Always been a little lost. A little too worried about fitting in to make the best choices. You? You’ve always had it figured out. Always had your priorities straight.”

Thaddeus Hawk wasn’t the type of father who’d taught his boys it was okay to cry, so Ben didn’t let himself speak. Instead, he took four steps and pulled the man into a hug.

His dad patted his back. One pat. Two. Three—the sign of true accomplishment. “Enough of that now.”

Ben pulled back. “Can you imagine what we could do here?”

“Sure can.” He looked at Ben expectantly, then, “You gonna tell me your plans or not?”

Ben grinned. “Let me show you around.”

***

Mark looked at the gorgeous brunette in his arms and felt all the old emotions Reese’s face inspired—the softness, the hope, the love, the guilt. “Thanks for the dance,” he said hoarsely.

“Well, we better keep it short or face the wrath of that line of women here to get their hands on The Hawk.” She smiled, but even through her feathered mask, he saw the sadness in her eyes.

“The place looks amazing,” he said, pulling her closer. The masquerade ball was packed with Sex Goddess 101 graduates and hopefuls, their dates, and the men hoping to be their dates. The night had just begun, but by all accounts it was already a success.

“Thanks,” she said. “I almost can’t believe we pulled it off.”

“Think Ben will show up?”

She lifted her shoulder. “He bailed on the auction, so he better not show his face.” She was silent for a minute, then said, “Can you tell me something?”

“I can try.”

“Why were you interested in me? Before the makeover, I mean? All those years ago.”

The question took Mark by surprise.

“Was it just a rivalry thing between you and Ben?”

Mark stopped dancing and looked down at her. “You want a drink?”

“That would be good.”

Mark led the way to the bar and ordered a whiskey for himself and a glass of red for Reese. “I’m a total fraud,” he admitted, handing the glass to her.

“What are you talking about?”

He lifted a shoulder. “The Hawk, I pretty much hate that asshole.”

She relaxed a little. “He is kind of a chauvinist.”

“Kind of? He’s a selfish bastard.”

Now she smiled for real. “Maybe a little, but it’s just a persona. That’s not who you really are. The Hawk’s an ass, sure. But Mark? He’s a good guy.”

He studied the amber liquid in his glass. “Maybe I’m a little bit of both. The guy who slept with you even though he knew you had a thing for his brother? Even though he knew his brother had a thing for you? That was the asshole.”

“Don’t.” She set her wine on the counter and rubbed her bare arms. “It was a long time ago, and Ben had no
thing
for me. He made it painfully clear that he wasn’t interested.”

“Reese, if he hadn’t been in love with you back then, he would have slept with you.”

She wrinkled her brow, looking thoroughly unimpressed by his assessment. “Want to try another one?”

“I wish I had handled it differently, but I didn’t. The guy who still likes you after all that time? The guy who just wants you both to be happy, despite that jealousy clawing his chest? That’s the man I want to be, and I’m telling you now, my brother’s an idiot, but he’s only an idiot because you’re the most important thing in his world.”

She looked away, her eyes moist. “This sucks. It just does.”

“Yeah,” Mark said. “Agreed.”

“Reese!”

Mark and Reese both turned to see Halie McCormack, all long legs and sparkle in her glittery silver dress and mask.

“Reese, it’s time for step ten,” Halie said, a grin stretching across her face.

“You’re hilarious, Halie, but as impressive as I am at multi-tasking, I won’t be completing step ten in the middle of an event.” Reese frowned and shook her head. “And besides, I never completed step six and you never gave me a step nine.”

“My steps don’t work like that. You’re ready.”

Reese looked at the stage. “It’s almost time for the bachelor and bachelorette auction.”

Halie pulled her mask away from her eyes. “Exactly.”

***

Reese stood at the back of the stage, her stomach flipping as their Master of Ceremonies auctioned off the first bachelor.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Luke grumbled next to her.

“Buck up, soldier,” Mark said. “It’s for a good cause.”

“Easy for you to say,” Luke whined. “You haven’t had that old lady making eyes at you all night.”

“What old lady?” Reese asked, desperate for Luke’s story to soothe her nerves.

“That old lady from the Senior Center? Proudly touts herself the first senior citizen Sex Goddess?”

“Mrs. Wisenowitz?” Reese said with a shriek.

“Ladies,” the emcee announced, “our next bachelor is a Chi-town native and the owner of the PitStop Bar and Grill.”

“Shake it, boyfriend,” Reese commanded.

On cue, Luke pulled on his mask and stepped onto the stage.

“Can we start the bids at fifty dollars?”

“Seventy-five,” Mrs. Wisenowitz called, pushing her walker toward the stage.

Luke strutted down their makeshift catwalk, shimmying his tux jacket off his shoulders.

The women in the audience screeched in response, followed by rapid-fire “One-hundred,” “One-fifty,” “Three-seventy-five.”

“Five-hundred dollars,” Mrs. Wisenowitz called.

Luke cast a desperate look over his shoulder, and Reese lifted her palms helplessly. Almost Home needed the money, he could suffer through one night as Mrs. W’s boy toy.

“Sold for five-hundred dollars to the beautiful young woman in the powder blue suit,” the emcee said, ushering Luke off the stage.

Luke kissed Mrs. W on the cheek and the crowd applauded.

Reese turned to Mark. “Think you can match that?”

Mark waved a hand. “Easy.”

“Good luck,” she said softly.

“Maybe I’ll meet the woman who can help me mend my broken heart.”

“Give a warm welcome to
The Hawk
,” the emcee was saying.

As Mark strutted to center stage, the crowd cheered. The bids started before the emcee could ask.

Reese was trying to calm herself by counting her breaths when she heard a woman’s voice call over the crowd’s cheers, “One-thousand dollars.”

Was that Masey? Bidding on Mark?

Reese swung around and, sure enough, Masey stood near the front of the stage in a hot pink poodle skirt and pink sequined mask, looking voluptuous and glamorous. And determined.

“Sold to the blond beauty for one-thousand dollars!”

Masey crooked her finger at Mark who looked a little perplexed as he joined her.

“Now, onto our first bachelorette,” the emcee said, and Reese tried to breathe.

Very often people were surprised to learn that, though she could create a damn good spotlight, she hated to be in it. As she stepped onto the stage, hands shaking, butterflies rioting in her stomach, she realized that all the sex goddess lessons in the world weren’t going to change that about her.

“Sex Goddess Inc.’s very own Reese Regan is a proud graduate of both University of Chicago and Sex Goddess 101.”

The odd juxtaposition made her pause a bit. If her classmates could see her now...

“Can we start bids at fifty dollars?”

She forced herself to take another step and another. The spotlight blinded her, and she couldn’t see the audience. The silence probably only lasted seconds, but seemed to stretch out for minutes until someone called the first bid.

For the first time, she wondered who would buy her company for the night. When Halie had told her to auction herself, she’d been so wrapped up in her fear of being on the stage that her brain hadn’t made it to what would happen after that.

Bids were to two-hundred dollars now.

“Can I get two-fifty for this gorgeous lady in red?” the emcee asked.

Reese made an awkward little turn, trying to hide that she hated every second of this.

“How about free labor for the construction of Almost Home’s new wing?”

She froze and looked out into the crowd. She couldn’t see a thing with the light glaring in her eyes.

“You’ve got yourself a bachelorette, sir,” the emcee said. He took Reese’s hand and led her to the stairs.

She shook with each step. Not nerves now but something else, something more.

The winning bidder was dressed in black with a black mask. He was broad shouldered and had shaggy blond hair, and Reese wanted to throw herself in his strong arms.

“Thank you for your generous donation.”

“To have you, I would have given more,” Ben said, taking her trembling hand.

“I would have been yours for less.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Ben held Reese close as the auctions wrapped up. She didn’t look at him or touch him, but he kept his arm around her waist, afraid she might run off and he wouldn’t get another chance.

She had to feel good about what this event—her event—had done for the women’s shelter. He was so damn proud of her.

As soon as the band started playing, he led her to the dance floor. He pulled her as close as possible, a hand grazing her bare back. The music hummed, slow and sultry, while he searched her face.

“You came,” she said, linking her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his.

The gentle sway of her hips had him remembering how she’d moved against his hand when he’d had her on that countertop, reminded of the way she’d moved under him on his bed.

God, she felt good in his arms.

“When we fought, you said I never wanted you before your makeover.” He rubbed a thumb over the last spot of exposed skin at the base of her back. “Do you really believe that?”

“I don’t know what I believe,” she whispered, but her voice hitched slightly.

He ran lazy fingertips up her spine and pressed his lips against the exposed length of neck.

“What are you doing?” But even as she asked, she tilted her head to give him better access.

He opened his mouth against her skin, smelling her, tasting her. She released a soft moan.

“You’re so beautiful.” He drew back. “This dress is begging to be peeled off you, but you know what really made me crazy?”

“Ben—” She pulled away, but he held her fast.

“You know those black pants you wear when we work out?”

She raised a brow. “My yoga pants?”

“The ones that fit your ass like a glove?” He groaned. “I’ve had more than one fantasy about peeling those off you. And that ugly brown robe? Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to shove my hands in my pockets to keep from tugging it open? You walked around in it like it was supposed to have no effect on me.”