Chapter Eight

Brick stared at his bank account balance with a sickening, nagging feeling in his gut. He'd been living off credit cards and pulling funds from various sources for a while now, but his time was officially up.

The rent was three months late. His creditors were leaving messages. The Jeep needed maintenance, and his insurance increased again. No matter how he tried to pivot or believe a pot of money would magically present itself, he was out of time.

Ziggy's Tours was going under. And this time, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

A sense of foreboding slumped his shoulders. He'd failed his grandfather. And though he'd been roped into taking over the company, Brick felt as if he'd betrayed his mother and his childhood. This had been his safe place—a magical escape where wild horses roamed free and beach time was the only schedule that mattered. He may have wanted to be in the city, but the Outer Banks ran in his blood. The love for simplicity soothed his very soul.

Somehow, over the past year of fighting his destiny, he realized he'd had it all along.

And now, he'd lost it.

He stared morosely at the screen and tried to come to terms with his new reality. All the things he wanted to do to turn Ziggy's Tours into a success revolved around money. The banks had all turned him down. The only thing that could possibly save him was a big influx of cash so he could finally compete with Maleficent and bring his vision to life.

Too bad Kane was just as broke as he was. He knew his friend would've given him the money without hesitation, but Kane's story was even worse, and Brick could only offer him a place to stay while he got back on his feet.

He shook his head at the irony. They'd once been two big, bad bachelors about to rule New York City. Now?

They were two financially ruined, single has-beens.

The bell over the door tinkled, and he looked up. Yeah, his day was taking a crash dive into the ocean, and there was no damn life raft.

Maleficent prowled over like a female panther bent on playing with her food. Her inky black-and-blue hair spilled down to her waist, and she was dressed in a black denim jumper with platform heels. Endless beaded bracelets were stacked on both wrists, glittering with shiny, colored crystals that hurt his vision. Her dark-red lips parted in a sharklike smile. "Brick. Just came over for a friendly check-in. How are things?"

He tamped down a groan and grinned back, trying not to gnash his teeth. "Great. Heard you were expanding to Mondays now. Seven days a week, huh? Going to hire some extra help?"

Her gaze gobbled up the small room, noting the water damage he hadn't fixed from the last storm, the ancient coffeepot he hadn't replaced with a Keurig, and the empty waiting area with chairs that held a light film of dust from lack of use. "No need. I have a feeling we'll need a tour company open daily, and I don't mind the work. How's your new sunset champagne tour doing?"

His jaw hurt from his fake-ass smile. "Great. I'm thinking of adding another one for Thursday nights."

Maleficent looked fake-surprised. "Really? I'm impressed. I haven't seen your Jeep out in a while, so I figured you weren't getting the groups you needed. I used to tell Ziggy you could only go so far on name alone. Eventually, you have to upgrade and update to keep up with the times. But you know how stubborn he was. Glad you don't share his vision."

Oh, yeah, she was definitely playing with him. She'd been a thorn in his side from day one, gleefully tearing the place down day by day after Ziggy passed. Besides poaching his clients, she'd stolen his precious ad space with the local papers. He'd tried reaching out to some big southern influencers, but when the group came by to book, Maleficent had met them on the outskirts of town, and Brick had never heard from them again. When he created interesting videos, she copied them and extended them to full-blown movie trailer ads. Each time he had an idea, she stole it and made it bigger. He simply couldn't keep up without the budget.

"Ziggy's vision for this place will always have my respect. He led the way for you."

She threw her hands up in defense. "Sure, I'd never say anything bad about Zig. But just because he made a career out of touring doesn't mean you need to. Truth to truth? You never seemed like you really fit here, Brick. Small town. Not much going on. Don't you want more for yourself?"

He refused to show weakness or doubts because wasn't that what he'd been thinking since the day he heard the will? "Got everything I could ever want right here," he drawled lazily. "We're both living the dream."

He caught a spark of disappointment in those witchy, dark eyes, making the whole dialogue worth it. "Sure. That's us. Well, I'd better get back. I figured I'd be a good neighbor and check in on you. Let me know if you need anything."

He tipped his head and watched her retreat. But she'd be back. Maleficent sensed blood in the water. He wouldn't be surprised if she bribed the rental agency to send her copies of his bills, so she knew the moment his business went under.

Muttering a curse, he rubbed his eyes and tried to think of a way out.

He couldn't sell the house to save the business—it had been just as important to Ziggy. Maybe he'd ransack the basement for antiques to sell. A fundraiser was too embarrassing. Empty the tiny balance of his 401K and take the tax hit?

Maybe Dug was a rare breed of dog he could sell for profit.

He was making a cup of bad coffee when the bell tinkled again. At that moment, he manifested a giant group piling in for his next tour, but when he turned, Aspen Lourde was framed in the doorway.

"Hi."

His gaze roamed over her bare legs, tiny red shorts, and the T-shirt she'd obviously bought next door under duress. It had a giant surfboard on it that said Catch the Wave , and the sleeves were stitched a bit crookedly. Was it weird that a tiny pang of respect hit him that she was nice enough to not only buy but wear Marco's cheap T-shirt? Her out-of-control hair had been ruthlessly pinned into a bun, but curls were poking out in random places already. She was completely average in every way, yet her face had been the last thing he'd seen before he fell asleep last night.

Guard up, he stared at her with suspicion. "Hi."

She shifted her weight and pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. Big, brown eyes regarded him with a mix of emotions he couldn't decipher. "Can we talk? "

"Sure."

He waited, but she looked around a bit nervously. "Maybe somewhere private?"

A humorless laugh escaped his lips. "This is as private as it comes. I have no bookings for this afternoon and Marco's at lunch, which will be about two hours."

She nodded and began pacing. Curious, he watched her and wondered what her deal was. What did she really want from him? He'd had women stalk him before, but this felt different. He took pity on her as he splashed some coffee into his mug. "Want something to drink while you find your words?"

Irritation must've edged out her discomfort because she cranked her head around to glare. "Are you always this ornery?"

His brow shot up. "Ornery? I've been called a dick and an asshole, but ornery is a little harsh, don't you think?"

Frustration hovered around her like a cloud. "You lack important social skills for such a hot commodity in this town. I'm simply wondering if you're hiding a sparkling personality beneath all that grumpiness."

He almost laughed but stopped himself just in time. She didn't need further encouragement but damned if he didn't enjoy her sharp jabs. He must have a bit of sadomasochism in him that he didn't know about. "May I point out you're the one stalking me? If you don't like my company, nothing's stopping you from ignoring me."

She pressed her lips together and fumed. "This is more difficult than I thought it'd be," she muttered. "But I'm out of time, and I think you may be, too."

"Cryptic. Why don't you get right to the point, Aspen? Tell me what you really want."

Her name slid over his tongue like whiskey: smooth, rich, and with a hint of sting. He resisted the urge to say it again. She fidgeted under his stare, and he caught the flush of red on her cheeks, making him more intrigued.

"Fine. I'm here to offer you a deal that will benefit us both."

He cocked his head and waited.

"Can I have some water?"

He grabbed a bottle from the small fridge, opened the cap, and handed it to her. She drank greedily, and he watched her pink lips purse around the nozzle and suck hard. Then, with a satisfied sigh, she licked her lips.

He hardened immediately, imagining that mouth wrapped around other things. Smothering a curse, he ripped his gaze away and turned. His voice came out a bit rough when he finally spoke. "What type of deal are you talking about?"

"I'm willing to give you money to save your business."

Shock vibrated from every cell as her words registered. Brick faced her again, squinting hard. "What did you say?"

"Ziggy's Tours. I know your business is on the brink of failure, and you need funds to reinvigorate it. I can give you the money you need to pay your bills and renovate the place."

Disappointment crashed through him. Dammit, she had a screw loose. No wonder he was attracted to her. "Sure. Thanks for the offer, Aspen, but I'm good."

Her teeth snapped together, and she took a step forward. "You're not listening. I will give you whatever amount you need—and it's not a loan. You get to keep the money. I just need a simple favor in return."

He began to laugh because he'd obviously stepped into an alternate universe, and he wasn't even high. "You're willing to give me a large sum of money—a literal stranger—in exchange for a favor? Excuse me if I'm not jumping up and down at this offer, which makes no sense. What could I possibly have that you'd need?"

This time, the flush overtook her face, and he spotted a gleam of sweat on her brow. "You."

He blinked. Waited for more, but she seemed to be finished explaining. "Me?"

Now beet-red, she threw her head back and faced him in pure challenge. "I will save your business if you have an affair with me."

His gaze swept over her body as he tried to figure out when his brain cells had collapsed. A dozen answers swirled in his mind, but only one question popped out. "You want to pay me for sex?"

She half-closed her eyes and let out a tortured groan. "No! It's not like that, even though it sounds weird. You see, I'm a writer. And I have terrible writer's block. My next book needs to be written quickly and turned over to my editor."

"Sex with me is research?"

"Stop saying the word sex." She paced furiously, energy crackling around her as she grappled with her words. "My first book was a huge hit because I used my personal experiences to write it. I suffered a bad heartbreak, but I poured it into my story, which really touched my readers. I haven't been able to tap into that type of emotion again, and my books are tanking. There's only one way to guarantee I break out of this rut and write a hit again. I need to fall hard for someone and get my heart broken. I think that man might be you."

It took him a bit to process. His first conclusion was the confirmation that Aspen Lourde was not a normal person. Then again, he'd heard writers scored high on schizophrenia tests, so maybe they were created like that. Second, he was slightly irritated that he'd once again been slammed with his reputation for destroying women when it simply wasn't true. And finally, he couldn't seem to stop the word sex from repeating in a loop in his caveman's brain that thought it was a great idea. After all, it was a win-win. Pleasure for money. Orgasms for saving his business.

He'd be able to satisfy his curiosity about her and figure out why she fascinated him.

But, of course, he couldn't say yes to this ridiculous arrangement.

Right?

The next question had to be answered. "You pay me, and I break your heart. But what about sex?"

She glared, which made her look a bit adorable. "Why do you have to focus on that one thing after my big speech?"

Brick scratched his head. "It's a big thing."

"Sex isn't required," she said carefully. "I don't want you to feel pressured to go to bed with me because you're getting paid." He took in her obvious embarrassment with a flare of sympathy. He had to give her credit. She was pretty damn brave to approach him with such a bold offer. "Especially if, well, if the attraction isn't there. I'm looking more for an emotional connection. I need to feel like you're interested in me. I want to do things together. Have deep conversations. Create a relationship where I can experience attachment and put it into the story I'm working on. Any type of physical…um…touch will only be um—"

"A bonus?"

Another groan. It looked like her stomach hurt. "Yes."

He went a bit deeper into this fascinating tunnel of possibility. "What about kissing?"

Aspen shook her head in defeat. "Kissing would be good for bonding. If that's okay with you."

"I like kissing. But I'm concerned about some of the other requirements. How do you know you'll be able to fall for me? Won't it feel forced?"

He studied every emotion flickering across her face. Not that he was going to do this. But it was a good idea to delve into every aspect of her offer so he could point out the problems. "I don't think so," she said. "Not if we follow a precise outline to help speed up the intimacy. How do you usually get women to fall so hard for you?"

He jerked back as she hit a sore spot. His reputation was all smoke and mirrors. Most of the dramatic stories revolving around his prowess were fake. In truth, he'd politely turned down many attractive women because he didn't want to see them get hurt. After Anastasia, he'd hooked up with a few locals, but it never went anywhere, and Brick knew he'd just been desperate for something—or someone—to stop the pain. He hadn't realized the gossip about Anastasia had already spread through Corolla and Duck, whispered in hushed horror and sympathy, growing his reputation into something he'd never intended.

Before long, he was approached consistently every time he went to the bar. Women booked tours just to flirt and ask him out. Once, he'd prolonged a date to overnight, and every detail was relayed and chugged through the gossip machines by lunch. His friends were jealous and asked him to share the wealth, but Brick didn't like living with such public scrutiny. If he even had a drink with a woman, it turned into an imaginary sexual encounter, ending with the female residents glaring and the men high-fiving. He'd pretty much stopped dating over the past year. Much easier to just stay home with Dug and focus on salvaging his grandfather's business. Things had finally died down, but his past exploits were vivid enough to keep his reputation alive.

He wasn't about to share that truth with Aspen.

Brick cleared his throat. "Well, I think it's what you said. We spent quality time together, and had chemistry. But it wasn't like we were trying to force anything. It just happened."

She nodded. "You seem to work fast. I heard you don't spend much time with your women before you dump them."

His jaw clenched. "It's usually mutual."

Her gaze poked and tried to shred his layers. He maintained his stone-faced expression. "Not really. I heard you like to break hearts. Get women to fall for you and then cut them loose. Is it true?"

Unease settled in his gut, but he ignored it. If that's what she wanted to believe after hearing the gossip, he wasn't about to defend himself. Brick shrugged. "If that's what everyone says."

Curiosity gleamed in those brown eyes. "Do you know why? Do you get bored being with the same woman? Do you get restless? Or are you scared of falling in love and taking the next step?"

Whoa. No way was he answering those questions like he was on a couch, spilling his innermost demons. "Why do you need to hire someone to have a relationship with you?" he challenged. "I'm sure plenty of other men could give you a good experience to write about."

She winced. "Not really. I spend a lot of time alone while writing. And when I'm out, I have trouble picking up random guys at the bar—I'm not comfortable in that scene. Plus, I'm running out of time. The book needs to be written this summer. You're good with women and have a knack for getting them to fall for you. You're perfect for the job. I won't be around to bother you when it's over, so it will be an easy disconnect. I leave in August."

Brick wondered if she'd put some kind of spell on him because he was beginning to consider the deal. Yes, it was absurd and far-fetched, but it was as if the universe had walked in, handed him a stack of cash, and waited to see if he was stupid enough not to take it.

"Okay, let me quickly summarize here. You want to hire me to date you for the summer while you write your book. In the end, I break it off, you move back to New York, and we never see each other again."

"Pretty much."

"What if you don't fall for me?"

"I have faith that if you give our relationship complete focus, you can do it."

His lips twitched. "And if I don't? Do I have to give back the money?"

She shook her head, her expression serious. "No. But you have to give this an honest try. If we're having a conversation and you're only interested in the baseball game, there's no way I'll like you."

He frowned. "When did I do that?"

"At the Sunfish bar. That poor blonde was desperately hanging all over you, and you didn't give her the time of day. It was painful."

Ah. She was talking about Victoria, the new teller at his bank. She'd been overly flirtatious and much too young for him but managed to discover where he hung out after work and joined him there. He'd figured being rude was the fastest way to discourage her, but Brick hadn't known they had an audience. Victoria had followed him to his car, plastering her body against his until he pleaded a migraine and escaped. Brick didn't relay that information, though. Better to keep Aspen off balance. "She was boring." He regarded her thoughtfully. "Are you boring?"

She practically bristled with outrage. "No. But your looks can only take you so far. I need you to also seduce my mind. Can you do that?"

His pants tightened, and he suddenly wanted to close the distance between them and show her what real seduction could be like. He liked that she found him attractive. A primitive rush of satisfaction shot through him. Brick wondered if she would melt and moan in his arms if he kissed her or dig her nails into his shoulders and bite. Did she purr like a kitten during sex or prefer using her claws?

Both options were tantalizing.

He wrestled his focus back to the conversation. "I can try. Anything else I need to do?"

"I made a list of suggestions to keep us moving toward the goal."

Oh, this was good. She may be a writer, but she was also practical. "You mean ways I can seduce you?" he asked.

A tiny frown creased her brow. "Ways we can become close," she corrected. "A sample of activities to do together. Spending time with shared interests is key."

"Like watching a movie?"

Why was it so much fun to tease her? He watched as she evidently struggled with his answer. "Sure, but I was also thinking about taking a walk on the beach or doing an art class together. Maybe you can take me by the dunes so I can learn more about your work. Quality time. Stuff like that."

That didn't sound so terrible. "What will you tell your sister?"

"She already knows."

His eyes widened. "Wait. She knows about this plan and is okay with it?"

"Yeah, but we're the only three who will know. I think it's best if we keep the terms secret. You can say you found a bank that gave you a loan, and I'll say I took your tour, and we fell for each other immediately."

"You've thought out all the details."

"Pretty much."

"The only question you haven't answered is the one we began with."

She tilted her head. "You mean if you're interested enough to take my offer?"

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and slowly grinned. "No. What about sex?"

Oh. My. God.

She'd totally underestimated him.

Aspen stared at the gorgeous, built male a few feet from her and tried not to drool. He seemed to suck up all the air in the room with his presence, and she was having a hard time making intelligent, reasonable points so he'd accept her offer.

But the word sex was really throwing her off.

His white teeth flashed as he grinned, and the soft cotton of his T-shirt stretched tightly across his broad chest. The scent of coffee and cinnamon drifted in the air, along with his unique, spicy scent that seemed to fog her brain. Why was his voice as seductive as his body? All rich and deep, with a lazy drawl that sent shivers sparking along her nerve endings.

He was way out of her league.

Even with Ryan, he'd owned the nerdy intelligence that'd caught her up in his spell, but it had begun with his brain. Besides some banter, she had no idea who Brick was as a man, but his physical presence was a constant reminder that her body was begging him to touch her. His reputation made complete sense to her now. No wonder he could be grumpy or rude, and women didn't care. He was a walking, breathing, talking temptation, fogging any brain with a drop of estrogen.

But would he be able to dig under her skin to elicit genuine emotions? Or would it just be a lustful infatuation that didn't translate to the page of a real love story?

Guess she was willing to find out.

Aspen cleared her throat and tried to appear calm, like they were negotiating a business deal. "I'm not opposed to sex, as long as we're both interested and neither feels pressured."

His eyes practically smoldered with a blue fire that made her breath seize in her lungs. Goodness, he was intense. Underneath that I-don't-care attitude, she suspected he may care about some things a lot.

Like…sex.

Again, his heated gaze raked over her body as if he could see through her clothes and couldn't wait to get started. "Okay, sex is on the table. Public affection okay, or no?"

She frowned. "I don't know. I've never tested that out before."

His brow lifted. "You've never made out or held a guy's hand on a date?"

Unease slithered through her. "No. My last relationship was kind of a secret, and then my other dates were too casual."

Curiosity flickered over his features, but he moved on. "We'll see how it goes. Any fears or triggers I should know about?"

Why was she suddenly thinking of a safe word? And why was that so hot? "I hate sports."

His lip quirked. Her hands curled into fists. The need to touch his mouth and see if his lips were as soft as she imagined was almost painful. "I can work with that." They silently stared at each other, and Aspen realized this was really happening. "I can send you a detailed expense report on what I'll need. It will have to be done fast so I can launch a reopening."

Aspen waved a hand in the air. "It's fine. Just tell me what you need, and I'll pay it."

His gaze narrowed. "Your books do good, huh?"

A smile stole her lips. "I do okay."

"We'll need to structure it as a loan. I don't feel comfortable taking your money without repayment."

"It's not a problem. We can—"

"I'm paying you back, Aspen." His voice got low and growly, and her spit dried up. "Your money will serve as a bank loan and receive interest. I already have renovation, marketing, and vehicle costs in a spreadsheet. I'll make sure the costs are updated since they're last year's prices and get all the paperwork over to you."

Oh, wow. He was much more professional than she'd believed. Respect flared. Most men would take the money and run. He insisted on a loan with interest and real spreadsheets. She nodded. "Okay. If you feel more comfortable that way, I agree."

"Then I guess we have a deal."

Startled, she watched as he held out his hand, and Aspen realized she'd won.

But will your victory be your downfall? that sneaky inner voice whispered. Was it her bitchy muse or wise Mom who wanted to keep her from making a mistake?

She ignored both voices, stepped forward, and grasped his hand.

Butterflies exploded in her belly at the warm, rough hand enclosed within hers. Just like the first time she'd accidentally fallen against him, heat crackled between them like an electrical charge. Their gazes met and locked, and damned if he didn't look a bit surprised, too—unless he was rethinking his agreement but realized it was too late.

Slowly, their hands fell apart, but the spark lingered, making her palm sensitive. Would she implode if he touched her naked skin? Would she whimper and beg like a harlot once he kissed her ?

And why, oh why, was she using the word harlot in her head? She must have heard it somewhere—it was ridiculously antiquated, and she refused to allow it to emerge in one of her stories. Unless—

"Where did you go?"

She blinked and was brought back to the scene. "Sorry. I fade away sometimes." He cocked his head with concern. "Don't worry, I always come back."

"Inspiration stuff?"

She laughed. "I wish. More like my random, disorganized brain grabbing onto a thought and spiraling. That inspiration thing is overdone to make writers look cool. Most of the time, it's just cranking out words in dirty pajamas and unwashed hair while weeping at the suckiness coming out like vomit."

Oh, my. He looked regretful again. But if he was going to date her, he'd have to get used to it, especially if she was on deadline. "Huh. You hear voices, too?"

"Yep."

"Good to know. I'd better get back to work. I'll get you those expenses in detail. See you tonight."

She blinked in confusion. "Huh?"

He smiled like she was dim-witted. "I need to start on this renovation, and then I'll pick you up for dinner."

Her mind tried to shift to keep up. "We're having dinner?"

He flashed that wicked grin that did very bad things to her erogenous zones. "Oh, yes. Best to begin this relationship ASAP and get to know each other better." His eyes warmed, making her nipples tighten, and her throat close up. "In all ways."

"R-r-right."

"Be there at six."

She must've given another nod and left because Aspen found herself in her car, staring dumbly through the windshield. Guess they were both doing this. She'd have her book, and he'd have his business. Hopefully, they'd be able to connect so she could get to a point where writing about a broken heart scored her the next book of the month. Everything was in place for it to be a success.

Beginning with dinner.

Aspen drove back to her sister's place and wondered what to wear.