The Fix Up (9 page)

Sterling

I’ve never been this uninterested in a date before in my life. And I can’t figure out why. Bianca is attractive and engaging; so, what in the hell is wrong with her?

She’s not Camryn.

It’s at this precise moment, over calamari and pints of cold beer, that I understand that I’m truly fucked. If I can’t date because I’m falling for my matchmaker, that means I can’t marry. And if I don’t marry, I don’t get my inheritance, which means I can’t take care of my mum. Rock, meet hard place.

Nodding along to something Bianca’s saying, I stifle a yawn behind my fist.

I want to tell Camryn everything. I want to date her, want to see if it can lead to something real, but if I tell her all of that, I run the risk of scaring her off. I don’t know that she wants to be Mrs. Quinn. It’s also possible it won’t work between us, in which case I’m fucked.

Deciding it’s a risk I just can’t take, I know what I need to do. Play along with Camryn’s plan long enough to get her to fall for me.

Discreetly checking my watch again, I calculate exactly how long until Camryn’s in my arms again.

Camryn

I pace my apartment, checking the clock yet again. Sterling and Bianca are an hour into their date, and I’m freaking the fuck out.

In an effort to distract myself, I’ve tried reading, watching TV, and baking, and I abandoned all three. A bowl of messed-up brownie batter containing salt instead of sugar was dumped into the trash, and I’m now sitting at my dining table with the latest stack of bills and collection letters that I’ve been avoiding going through.

Leafing through the pile, I try to figure out how I got myself here. I was always so responsible with my money. Having grown up with very little, I knew enough to be careful with what I had.

David the Dick did not. The first time I learned he charged something to my credit card—a set of speakers—we had a major fight. I couldn’t understand how someone I’d been dating for only a few months could do something like that behind my back. He swore it would never happen again, and that he’d pay the bill. Of course that never happened, and months later I learned he’d not only charged more to my credit card, but he’d charged items to my Amazon account, using my laptop when I wasn’t home. Then he sold all the merchandise and took off with the money. Leaving me in the biggest hole of my life.

My blood pressure rising, I make a tally of all the charges. Just under ten thousand dollars, which will be the exact amount I’ll get when I succeed in this crazy project. I have to.

Needing a distraction from the chaos on my dining table, I head into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of red wine. My cheap five-dollar bottle of wine is my weekly splurge. Well, that and the monthly pedicures I haven’t been able to give up, mostly just for the girl-time it affords me.

My cell phone rings and I grab it from the counter, giddy and light-headed when I see Sterling’s name displayed on the screen. I answer on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Hello, beautiful.” Sterling’s warm, silky voice washes over me.

I laugh at his attempt to be smooth. “How did it go, Romeo?”

“Quite well, I think.”

He sounds optimistic and cheerful. My stomach twists into a painful knot.

“Where are you?” he asks. “We’re still on to debrief, yes?”

Part of me wants to fake the stomach flu or a bout of chicken pox, anything to avoid having to hear about his date—that obviously went well—in all its gory detail. But of course I won’t. We agreed to this, I remind myself.

“I’m at home.”

“Great. Text me your address and I’ll be right over.”

“See you soon.” I text him my address and then head to my room to freshen up.

When Sterling arrives fifteen minutes later, I’m ready. I enjoyed my glass of wine while perched on my bathroom counter, touching up my makeup. And now I’m feeling more relaxed and prepared to hear all about his date, or so I tell myself.

He removes his jacket, and I pour him a glass of wine as he surveys my place.

“Great view,” he says, wandering over toward the wall of windows with his wineglass in hand.

“Thanks. I’ve lived here for three years. It’s cramped, but that view and the fact that I hate moving have kept me here.”

Sterling wanders from the window to the sofa, and sits, patting the seat next to him. There’s a hopeful sort of longing in his eyes, and I brace myself for what’s about to come out of his mouth.

Lowering myself to the cushion next to him, I take another fortifying sip of wine.

“Did you do anything fun tonight?” he asks.

I shake my head. “If you count binge-watching TV fun, then yes. I had a blast.”

He chuckles. “What shows do you like to watch?”

“I’m a teensy bit obsessed with
House Hunters International
. It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly. Not to me, anyway. Would you like to live abroad someday?”

I shake my head. “Not really, but I would love to travel.”

“What’s stopping you?” He lifts a strand of my hair from my shoulder, rubbing the silky ends between his fingers. It’s distractingly sexy to watch him.

“Money, for one. Things are kind of tight right now. Someday, though, I’d love to go to Italy.”

“I’ll take you to Italy.”

I laugh. “You can’t just take me to Italy. That’s crazy.”

“Why is that crazy?”

I pull my hair back into a ponytail, and out of his grasp. He needs to stop being so sweet and attentive. Things are already confusing between us.

“Don’t keep me in suspense any longer. I want to hear about your date. Tell me, are my matchmaking skills superb?”

He takes another sip of wine, his eyes never leaving mine as he swallows. “She was . . . nice.”

“
Nice
?” That’s all he’s going to give me, after I’ve been sitting here in agony for two hours?

He shrugs. “A bit young for me. But we got along fine.”

There’s something he’s not telling me, and I intend to get it out of him. “So, you’d like to see her again?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He takes another sip of his wine, then sets down the glass.

“I don’t understand.” I set my glass beside his. “We have a limited timetable here.”

Clearing his throat, he glances to the windows again before meeting my gaze. “Did you ever want something you can’t have?”

A wave of lust rolls through me. “Yes.” My voice is just a whisper.

Sterling leans in, cupping my jaw as he guides my mouth to his. Hot and hungry is the only way to describe his kiss. His tongue slides against mine, deepening our connection, and in that moment, I’m lost to him.

He is my everything. My unrequited crush. The source of my desire. He’s the thing my fantasies are made of.

Sterling makes me wish that happily-ever-afters weren’t just for fairy tales. Because to me, he is perfection. All that cocky British swagger wrapped up in one delicious package is hot enough to make panties melt.

Wrapping my arms around his powerful shoulders, I move in closer, kissing him back with every ounce of the hot, fiery passion burning through my veins.

His mouth is hot and demanding, and when he pulls me into his lap so I’m straddling him, I’m powerless to resist. The hard ridge of his cock is nestled right between my legs, and I gasp as the firm, broad tip drives me insane with hot friction.

I squirm in his lap as my rising lust demands attention. The wetness between my legs grows, and for a moment, I’m worried he’ll be able to feel it. Then I decide I just don’t care. I rock against him as we kiss, savoring each wave of pleasure cresting through me.

He makes me feel alive and desirable. It’s addicting.

“Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” he growls.

I chew on my lip, sure that’s a rhetorical question.

“The sounds you make, the way you taste. You’re so fucking tempting.”

I know exactly what he means. Never in my life have I been so tempted to say
fuck it
to my morals and have a dirty night of debauchery. Sadly, I know I’m not the type who can do that without regretting it in the morning. I’ve always been more of a committed-relationship type of girl. But I think I’ve been missing out on the casual fun other people my age seemed to enjoy.

“Sterling . . .” I grip his shoulders and push him back. “We need to stop.”

As hard as it is, I make myself climb off his lap. At the far end of the couch, I pull my knees to my chest and take a deep breath.

“You’re not dating anyone, are you?” he asks.

“I wouldn’t be here doing this with you if I was.” Pushing my hands into my hair, I release a long exhale. “I shouldn’t be doing this, anyway.”

He leans closer and rubs his thumb across my lower lip, his expression amused. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

Smiling at me, he chuckles. “You’re right. I’m not sorry. There’s no denying we have an attraction.”

“We can’t let ourselves get carried away,” I correct him, using my sternest voice. “And I’m serious this time.”

“Aye-aye, captain.”

His attempt at being funny only endears him to me more. Because, us keeping our hands to ourselves? The struggle is real.

I excuse myself to the restroom for a few minutes, and when I emerge, I find Sterling standing in front of the windows, looking out at the traffic that never seems to slow.

“Can I ask you something?” I’ve been wondering about this since we started our special project; I just haven’t had the courage to ask until now.

“Sure,” he says, turning to face me.

“What are the qualities you’re looking for in a wife?”

His gaze moves from mine to the floor. “That’s tough to answer. Never thought I’d have a wife. I never wanted to get married.”

“But you’re still going through with this, right?” I ask, suddenly feeling unsure.

“Of course. I told you, I have my reasons, but I have to go through with this.”

I nod. “I remember.”

“I suppose the qualities that are important are someone honest. Someone who gets along with my mum. It would help if we had compatibility inside and outside the bedroom.” He smirks.

“Yes, that would help.”

“I haven’t put as much thought into it as I should have. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. “What about Rebecca . . . have you thought about her? You guys already know each other; obviously you did share some common interests.”

He clears his throat. “Our shared interests were work and that we both liked fucking.”

My eyes widen. Okay, that wasn’t what I was expecting to hear. The thought of him with someone else makes my palms sweat, and I get that dizzy feeling that comes right before you get sick.

“I’m sorry.” He takes my hand.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

We’re still learning about each other, feeling out this whole unique situation. But it’s moments like this where we share real conversation that I discover more of the man he is underneath.

“I’m no saint. I’m sorry to disappoint you. If you want to walk away now, I totally get it.”

I force a sad smile onto my lips. “And miss all the fun? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank God. I need you if I’m to survive the next six months.”

I walk him to the door, then take two steps back so I’m not tempted to contort my body around his muscular one, or steal another mind-blowing kiss.

Sterling releases a sharp exhale, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is just fucking bollocks. There’s someone I genuinely like right now and I have no idea where it might lead, but I have this time bomb ticking in the background, deciding my fate for me. Talk about the worst fucking timing ever.”

Butterflies tingle inside my stomach. “Then you should find a way to show her how you feel.”

We share an intense moment where his eyes don’t leave mine, and I find myself swaying forward the tiniest bit.

“Show her?”

I nod. “Actions speak louder than words.”

“Right.” He rubs the back of his neck. “You’re absolutely right.”

“Night, Sterling,” I say as he steps into the hall.

“Night, gorgeous.”

I close the door and press my back against it, then immediately sink to the floor. My legs are mush, and the only thing that’s going to cool me down is a cold shower.

Sterling

After spending the weekend thinking about Camryn, I’m back at work on Monday, and doing my best to throw myself into the cases piling up on my desk. Technically, I practice family law, which means I spend my days drafting prenuptial agreements, and handling divorce proceedings as well as alimony and child custody.

Very rarely, I also handle a personal bankruptcy, or help with an adoption. I’ve also been asked to speak at conferences about family law or ethics. But ask anyone I work with what I’m known for, it’s divorce. The big D is what I’ve lived and breathed for five years now, and what I’ve built my reputation and career on.

So color me fucking surprised that the man known for divorce now has to get married.

The irony is not lost on me.

And the craziest part is that I’ve started to fall for my matchmaker. I know she’s interested in me physically—but she’s given me no reason to believe she wants to throw her name into the hat for a shot at becoming Mrs. Sterling Quinn.

Needing a break from the mountain of work on my desk that only seems to mock me, I’ve asked Noah to meet me for lunch. At ten to noon, I walk over to the restaurant where we’re supposed to meet.

“You look like hell, brother. What’s up?” Noah asks when he spots me outside the restaurant.

“I’ve had a lot on my mind,” I mutter. “Come on, let’s get a table. I’m starving.”

We’re seated at the sushi bar, where we glance at the menu. Once we place our orders, Noah turns to face me.

“Is everything okay? I’ve never seen you rattled before.”

“That’s because I’ve never been rattled before.”

“Getting married is a big deal, man. How’s it coming, by the way?”

I make a noncommittal noise in my throat. “Nonexistent so far. I’ve been on one mediocre date, but Camryn’s planning a big event next month where I’ll be speed dating my way through all the hopefuls.”

“Next month?”

Shit. He’s right. It’s already the end of the month. “In about three weeks,” I say, correcting myself, stunned at how fast this is all happening.

Our food arrives, and I waste no time dosing a piece of spicy tuna roll with wasabi. “Let me ask you a question. What kind of girls are going to go to an event like that, really?”

He tilts his head, considering it. “Good point. Probably only those looking for a bit of the limelight, who want a piece of the fortune. Is that what you mean?”

I nod. “Exactly. My guess is that for every one hundred opportunity-seekers, there will be one genuine girl looking for love. And what are the chances that I’ll have a connection with any of them?”

“What are you saying? What do you propose then?” Noah steals a piece of my eel roll.

“Camryn.” I take a sip of tea, waiting for him to answer.

“Shit. You were serious about that before? I thought you were drunk and horny.”

“Sadly, no.” Horny, yes. She’s left me with blue balls twice now, and if I get the opportunity to be alone with her again, it’s my life’s mission to change that.

“Okay, so you
like her
like her. As in, you want to marry her?”

“Fuck.” I set down my chopsticks. “The idea of marriage makes me itchy.”

Noah smiles wryly. “You want my advice?”

“’Course I do.”

“If you’re going to be a bear, be a grizzly,” Noah says before munching another bite of shrimp tempura.

What the fuck. Maybe he’s hit his head. “Meaning?”

“Go after what you want. Fight dirty. Get it. Make it happen.” Grinning, Noah claps me on the back.

“Be a grizzly, huh?” I smirk. Must be American slang. Stupid as shit, but I think I catch the meaning.

“You’ve got this.” He smiles, nodding. “Are you done with that spicy tuna?”

I push the plate toward him. “Have at it; I’m going to get back to the office. I’ve got grizzly-esque items to check off my list.”

He shakes his head, popping another bite of sushi into his mouth. “Damn British. You make everything sound so fancy and refined.”

I toss a couple of bills on the table and head out, my head clearer, my heart fuller. Time to go after what I want, consequences be damned.

I want to text Camryn,
Shield your ovaries, girl. Sterling’s about to up the seduction game
. But it won’t be any fun giving her advance warning.

As I step inside the office tower’s foyer, I spot Rebecca coming off the lift.

Fuck.

I’ve been dodging her calls for weeks now. This isn’t going to be good. I haven’t spoken to her since the news broke of my inheritance.

“Ster . . .” She pauses with her cell phone halfway to her ear.

“Hi.” I give her an awkward half wave while my gaze darts left, then right, looking for the emergency exit.

“I’ll have to call you back,” she says into her phone, then drops the thing into her briefcase.

I shove my hands in my pockets as I wait. I know she’s pissed.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Her eyes latch onto mine and then narrow into the shape of slivered almonds.

“About?”

“The inheritance!” she shouts.

I take her elbow and guide her over to the seating area. It’s not private, but it’s better than standing in the center of the lobby with people all around us.

“I found out about it the day before the news broke. If you can believe it, I was more than a little in shock. I didn’t exactly spend the day calling everyone I knew to inform them. The only people I spoke with were my mother and Noah.”

She scoffs. “Don’t even get me started on that. You two have an unhealthy relationship.” Then her gaze softens, and she places one hand against the arm of my suit jacket. “Still, you should have called. I could help you, Ster.”

“Listen, Rebecca, I don’t mean to be a dick, but what we had has run its course.”

She smiles seductively, wetting her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. “It was fun. Even you have to admit that.”

I know what she’s trying to do. She’s trying to be sweet and demure, and make me remember her good qualities.

She’s only half right, though. We did have some fun between the sheets, but being married, taking a wife—I need a hell of a lot more than someone fun in bed. In fact, that’s just one tiny requirement on my list. All too clear in my memory are the times when she’d rather stare at her phone than me while we were in bed, or that time she threw a fit when I ordered the wrong pizza toppings. What we had wasn’t love, wasn’t even on the same spectrum as love.

Releasing a heavy sigh, I mentally search for a way to say this that doesn’t end with my face getting slapped. “Here’s the thing. We were convenient. We leaned on each other while we avoided real relationships.”

Her optimism falls, and she takes a step back. “I see. And here I thought what we had was nice. Am I the only one who remembers it fondly?”

I keep my mouth shut, because I think agreeing will only encourage her more. Plus, I’m going to be late for my one o’clock meeting if I don’t get back upstairs.

“I’m sorry. I’ve got to run.”

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she nods. “Good luck.”

Once inside my office, I realize I have five minutes before the conference call starts, so I grab the stack of papers from my briefcase that I lifted on Friday night from Camryn’s place. I’m sure she’ll want to kill me when she finds out, but that’s just something I’ll have to deal with.