The Bucket List (2 page)

Despite her attempts to keep Brett in the client category, he eventually managed to seep into nearly all aspects of her life. What could she say; men who were smart, sexy, and had a good sense of humor were like catnip to her. Knowing this, she deliberately tried to keep him at a distance, but over time her defenses slowly eroded. Business lunches turned into casual lunches, and then casual lunches turned into pizza at her place.

Before she knew it, they were almost like best friends…except for the annoying habit he had of flirting with her but she’d nipped that in the bud when she threatened to turn over his account to another associate and end their friendship altogether. Yes, she probably wouldn’t have done it, but hell, it was the only way she could stop him from using his charms on her. They’d shared many memorable moments together, some more pleasant then others, but at the end of the day, she was never willing to enter into anything more then a deep friendship with him.

Then there was “that night” last year after her father’s heart attack. She’d been an emotional wreck and he was the first person she called. He was there, for not only her, but her entire family. Later “that night” she’d cried on his shoulder while he rubbed her back and before she knew it, she was kissing him for all she was worth. It had only lasted a moment and she’d regained a measure of control before things had gotten too out of hand, but the dynamic in their relationship had already changed. Ever since that night, Brett had become overbearing. Okay, so maybe “overbearing” was a strong word, but he definitely was more insistent on them getting together and she wasn’t having any of it. He acted like she owed him explanations for everything she did. 

The last time she spoke to Brett, they argued about how he felt she’d been distancing herself from him since “that night”. It’d been nearly a week since that conversation. She had put him on “hiatus,” which meant she cut off all communication. Currently, she was dodging his calls, text messages, e-mails and Facebook messages.  She would have gone elsewhere for her oil change but she hadn’t seen his car out front so she thought she could discreetly get in and out without him knowing it. Because of their client relationship, her oil changes were free. Curse her frugal nature!

“Thanks, Julio.” 

He flashed Grace a sympathetic smile, which told her Brett was in rare form today. She would stay neutral. 

“Well, here goes,” she murmured as she stood up, smoothing the sides of her ebony hair swept up in a high pony tail, and took the familiar path to the back of the bustling automotive repair and detailing complex. She waved and chatted with some of the staff along the way. She’d gotten to know all of them over the years.  Grace reached his door before she knew it.

Brett’s office was at the end of an isolated hall, which allowed privacy; something she didn’t need with him right now.  She smoothed her hands over her freshly pressed locks again, and tugged on the jacket of her hot pink jogging suit.

You are a grown woman, for crying out loud. He can’t bully you.  You will not argue with him. You will be civil. Brett has no power over you…or your body.

Her sex throbbed as if to say,
“You’re a damn liar.”

So much for her pep talk to herself!

Chapter Two

“You seriously want to do this stuff?”

Hazel green eyes zeroed in on her face. Grace tried to snatch the list out of Brett’s hand, but at six foot three, he had her five foot five frame at a disadvantage. Grace decided to stop trying to grab it, since she was already embarrassed beyond belief; she was sure they looked like kids playing keep-away as he dangled the list just out of her reach. After all, she had come into his shop to discuss her car, not her sex life.

“Look, Brett, it’s none of your concern. Now,
please
, give me back my list. A gentleman wouldn’t have read it anyway.”

She’d hoped her tone held enough frost to get him to see that she was serious.  Grace cursed herself for dropping the list in the first place. She had forgotten she was holding the list as she entered the office. She’d been so turned on by him standing in the doorway, her inner klutz had popped out and she tripped over her own feet. Her purse and the list went crashing to the floor when she put her hands out to stop her fall.

Brett had quickly caught her, pinning her to his solid body. She stayed pinned to him, her back to his front, her chest rising and falling from the excitement of her near mishap. She could feel his heat and strength surrounding her as his chest muscles contracted and expanded against her back.

His arm was like a vice around her waist and she wished for the thousandth time that she had a little more curves and cushion for him to hold on to. The women in her family were average for the most part; average height, average shapes, but they all had large, firm breasts. She just wished she had been blessed with a butt to at least balance the breasts out. She was no brick house, by any stretch of the imagination. She reluctantly moved out of his hold, proud that she was only slightly trembling.

Brett slowly released her, reached down and picked up her purse and the paper. She reached for her purse as he scanned the paper and that was when all hell broke loose.

“I don’t know why you would think I was a gentleman in the first place, and I’m sorry but the words ‘one night stand’ tend to stick out, especially when it’s in your handwriting.”

He crossed his massive arms over his equally massive chest and Grace backed up.

Brett was that guy who had it all, in her opinion—thick mahogany tresses which curled slightly and fell just above his massive shoulders, sloping forehead which caused his hazel eyes to look hooded and mysterious, a prominent nose that would have seemed overly long and large on any other man, but balanced his rugged face, making him look stoic and manly. His skin had a healthy, tanned appearance.

The cherry on top of it all was the tiny patch of hair he allowed to grow just below his bottom lip. Not only was he one sexy package but everything about him screamed male.  His skin glowed with health and vitality, and his body was in tip-top condition from his years in professional wrestling. As usual when in Brett’s vicinity, her body was on high alert, primed and ready.  She stayed wet around this man.

She constantly reminded herself that he was more than his appearance.  She liked to focus on his personality to keep from falling all over him, like every other woman did. Brett was not just good-looking; he was a smart and confident man.

When he wanted something, he knew just what to say and how to say it in order to have things his way. Many people underestimated him, thinking he was just some big, dumb wrestler. What they didn’t know was how street-smart he was. He could not afford college so he’d kicked around until he landed in pro wrestling. Brett never gave in, he never gave up, and he played to win.

The “Wolf” brand was only worth a few hundred thousand dollars when they met, but with her head for numbers and his shrewd marketing decisions, they had grown his money exponentially. At the same time, she turned down his advances. Mixing business and pleasure was a no-no in her book.

It was the first piece of advice her parents had given her when she started her first job right out of college. They were also accountants and knew the pit-falls which could face a single woman handling accounts with balances that would tempt a saint to sin, especially when the owners of those balances were celebrities.

Brett’s eye’s never left hers. He had sized her up from the moment she walked through the door, looking at her in a hungry way that would have been lascivious if another man had done it, but not with Brett. Damn, he looked at her as if he had a right to undress her with his eyes, and she let him.

Grace looked around his office, trying to stall.  The walls of Brett‘s office were covered with pictures. Some were of him posing with other professional wrestlers. There were also live action shots of Brett in the ring as well as calendars and framed magazine articles. He even had several championship belts prominently displayed inside glass-covered shadow boxes.

Behind his desk were his more personal pictures, mostly of his five brothers and his mom.  One was of him and Grace surrounded by his family and his managers. That one had been taken the day he retired from wrestling, nearly three years prior. He was smaller now, more solid muscle, but he was still massive and could make you think twice about crossing him when he gave you that “don’t fuck with me” vibe.

However, that was not the vibe he was giving her at the moment. It was the “explain-this-shit-right-now-or-else” vibe she was getting. He was leaning against his desk, jeans molded to thickly muscled thighs, green polo shirt clinging to a chest and arms that flexed enticingly with his movements.

Damn, she was losing focus again. The list; she needed the list back.

“Brett, it’s just a joke.”

“So you’re not going to do any of it?” he asked as he looked at her skeptically.

What was this, the principal’s office? She was a grown woman, and she could do whatever the hell she liked.

“I am going to do a few of them and it’s still none of your business,” she sassed him back, congratulating herself on her bravado.

“You’re going to Mardi Gras to pick up some guy to fuck, and it is not my business? What planet are you living on?”

He was waving the paper in her face, and Grace picked that moment to pluck the list from his fingers. She didn’t have to explain her reasons to anyone. Especially Brett “The Wolf” McAllister.

“That’s not the only thing on this list! I might not even get to that.”

She was facing him toe to toe now…okay, actually more like she was looking up into his face as he tried to intimidate her with his height and size. She couldn’t care less, because she wasn’t backing down.

“As if the other things are any better! Find a guy to screw, flash your tits for beads, get drunk on Hurricane drinks on Bourbon Street and get a tattoo!”

Okay, so it all sounded pretty silly when he said it like that, but her pride would not admit it.  Her mind was made up. She was tired of living cautiously. 

“Damn it, there were also other things on the list, too, like go to a concert at the House of Blues and…eat crawfish and dance to zydeco music. Besides, I know you’re not lecturing me on tattoos when you have a wolf the size of a dinner plate tattooed on your chest! Not to mention the number of women you have screwed; I won’t even go there.”

Just thinking about him with another woman made her stomach twist in knots.

“We are not talking about me, we are talking about you. I can handle myself! Do you know how dangerous the stuff on this list is? Anything can happen at Mardi Gras; people lose control. What if someone snatched you from the street? How would you protect yourself? Who are you even going with on this mobile fuck-fest?”

He was prowling in front of her, running his finger through his hair in agitation. Despite her anger at feeling cornered, a part of her was turned on by him. Hell, who was she kidding? Brett always turned her on, and especially so when he was in protective mode.

For the thousandth time, she wished things were different, but she knew men like him had no intentions of being faithful to any woman. During his pro wrestling days, groupies had lined up outside of every ring and hotel room, trying to prove they could be the one to “tame The Wolf.” Grace used to feel bad for the women, fighting over a man who wouldn’t even remember their name or their face the next morning, if they even got to stay the night. She’d had several near-altercations with women who thought she was a threat, just because she and Brett were friends. She eventually stopped going to his matches. It was either that or go to jail.

“I’m going with Tia.” She placed her hands on her hips, stuck out her chest and widened her stance, her eyes daring him to say anything.

Brett growled in his throat, reminding her of why his wrestling nickname was “The Wolf.” That growl had helped make him famous—and infamous—in the ring. Grace instinctively moved back, her manner cautious. She mentally calculated her distance from the door. Perhaps it was time to think of a new approach.

“Tia? You mean the same Tia who thought it was a good idea to have a male stripper at her baby shower?”

Grace had enough sense to keep silent, though she could not hide her smirk.  Brett was obviously upset with her and she wanted to be upset with him for being upset…if that made sense, but the mention of the infamous baby shower stripper threatened to undo her. She snickered and pressed her lips together.

She noticed one side of Brett’s mouth was quirked into a smile, too. Deciding this was a good time to at least try to de-escalate the situation, she sat down in the leather chair in front of his desk. There was no need to keep standing when he was going to tower over her anyway.

Taking her cue, he again leaned back against his desk, crossing his legs at the ankle.

“Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, but every since your dad had that heart attack last year, it’s like you’ve been a different person.” She was about to argue but he held up his hands to silence her.

“Your dad is alive, Grace. He made it. Why are you acting like an out-of-control reality TV star? Look at that,” he waved to the list held tightly in her clutched fist. “You want to get drunk? You can’t even get through two glasses of wine with your dinner without getting tipsy. Get a tattoo? You are afraid to get your ears pierced because you can’t stand the idea of pain.  Have sex with some random guy? I have been trying to get you in bed for three years and you’ve brushed me off every time, yet you think you can just walk up to some guy on the streets of New Orleans, take him back to your hotel and have some fucking orgasmic experience? Who are you trying to fool, Grace? This isn’t even you. I know you have better sense than this. What is going on with you, Grace?  I…”

Whatever he was about to say was broken off by the ringing of her cell phone. Never was she happier to hear Stevie Nicks and Fleetwood Mac crooning the song
Dreams
. She quickly fished it out of her purse and answered it, effectively cutting Brett off. He exhaled loudly at the interruption. She turned sideways in the chair, not wanting Brett to distract her.