Chapter Fourteen

A ll right, so taking the man she was lusting after to a singles mixer could probably be categorized as self-sabotage, but there was no turning back now. She’d heard about the “young professionals meet-up” (code for find a gainfully employed hookup that doesn’t have roommates ) from some of her classmates this morning. She’d sort of mentally laughed it off as nightmare fodder and gone back to taking lecture notes. Then Burgess texted and his name popping up on her phone made goose bumps spread down her arms, her pulse ticking in triple time... and she’d blindly tapped out the invitation, acting purely on her survival instinct.

Well, as they neared the group of young people dressed in varieties of business casual, she found herself panicking, trying to pinpoint which one would be Burgess’s type and gulping heavily over the imminent handoff to somebody else. Because no doubt about it, Burgess was going to be all their type. Heads were already turning, elbows digging into rib cages, lemonade being swigged so the paper cups could be discarded, thus freeing up two hands with which to wrestle her boss into their possession.

“Wow, you’re already causing quite a stir.”

“Great,” he said, flatly.

“ Isn’t it? ” she agreed with a high-pitched laugh.

“What exactly am I supposed to do here, Tallulah?”

“Just get used to mingling with women again, you know? You might not be interested in anyone here and that’s okay. Totally okay. But at the very least, you’ll get some practice.”

He grunted. “I don’t want any fucking lemonade.”

“Do you hate all the good drinks?”

“There’s no need for anything but water.”

“When you’re making small talk, don’t open with that.”

He stopped walking suddenly, eyebrows slashing together. “Hold on. What are you going to do while I’m practice mingling?” His voice dropped. “You’re not mingling, too.”

“Nope. I’m just here to be your wing woman.”

Burgess eyeballed the group over the top of her head, a tick beginning in his cheek. “What if one of them wants to mingle with you?”

“I’ll give clipped responses and a tight-lipped smile to deter them.”

“That can’t be foolproof.”

“It is.” She gave him a tight-lipped smile.

He shivered. “Jesus. You’re right. That’s cold.”

“Pray you’re never on the receiving end.” She hooked their elbows together and dragged him forward. “Now, stop stalling. It’s going to be educational. We can identify what you need to work on.”

“If you talk to any of these guys, we’re leaving.”

The pulse in her neck went utterly bananas. “That’s not helpful.”

“I don’t care.”

Every single person at the mixer was facing them now, watching as they approached, half of them frozen in shock, the other half verging closer to fascination. “Hi, everyone! Sorry we’re late.” She extended a hand toward the person wearing an Organizer badge, smiling as they shook. “I’m Tallulah. This is my friend, Burgess.”

“I knew that was him,” someone whispered.

“Sir Savage,” growled one of the men, pounding a fist to his pink pinstriped chest.

Burgess beat his own chest once without missing a beat. “How’s it going?”

Pink Pinstripes stepped forward, apparently taking the role as group spokesman. “Are you really here for this singles mixer?”

“It’s a Young Professionals Meetup,” droned the Organizer.

“Sure, dude.” Pinstripes sent the group a smirk. “My question is, what is Sir Savage doing here?”

“I’m asking myself the same question,” Burgess said.

“You’re an NHL legend. Can’t you just date whoever you want?”

Burgess frowned at Tallulah. “Apparently not.”

“As you were, everyone,” Tallulah said quickly, praying her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Just pretend he’s a regular Joe, okay?”

“Do you want a lemonade?” asked the Organizer.

“ No ,” Burgess shouted.

“He hates joy in all forms,” Tallulah explained in a whisper.

A young woman in a blue wrap dress slipped in front of Burgess with her hand out and Tallulah watched in slow motion, stomach gurgling, as Burgess raised his paw and grasped the offered hand, spreading a smile across the lady’s face. “Hi, I’m Jeanine.”

“Nice to meet you, Jeanine.”

Tallulah realized her arm was still linked with Burgess’s and tried to slip free, but he trapped her without so much as a blink. Jeanine watched the action with a bemused smile... that was mirrored by the other two women—Samara and Annie—who joined their small offshoot group. Burgess shook all their hands with the enthusiasm of a man meeting the Grim Reaper.

“So how do you two know each other?” Annie asked, gesturing with her lemonade.

Tallulah nudged Burgess to answer, in the interest of him tak ing the conversational center stage. Her throat wasn’t shrinking to the size of a swizzle stick at all .

“She’s my daughter’s au pair,” Burgess said, finally.

“Wow.” Annie drew out the word, exchanging knowing glances with Samara and Jeanine. “Interesting.”

Burgess made a gruff sound. “You could say that.”

“It’s a little unusual for a man to be such good friends with his au pair, isn’t it?” Samara asked, her mouth on the rim of her lemonade cup. “Accompanying you on something of a romantic outing...?”

The Organizer cleared his throat. “The object is to make professional connections—”

“Bro.” This, from Pinstripes. “Stop trying to make fetch happen.”

Burgess tilted his head at Tallulah, obviously waiting for her response to Samara’s question. Did he look a bit too interested in her answer? And why was everyone standing so close to Burgess? A few more inches and all three women were going to attach like barnacles to the underside of a boat. “He’s a single father and a professional hockey player, as you know. And, well... when one has no time for dating, they might be tempted to give up altogether, but he’s only thirty-seven and has so much to offer—”

“Like that wicked body check,” roared Pinstripes, fist to the sky. “You saw what he did to that fucker from the Pittsburgh Huskies—splintered his schnoz. Do not cross Sir Savage. Do not even—”

“That fucker from the Huskies is fine,” Burgess interrupted roughly, squeezing Tallulah’s arm tighter to his rib cage. “ We’re fine. I sent him two six packs.”

Tallulah glanced up at him sharply. “Two?”

He shifted right to left, no longer looking at her. “After our conversation, I might have... sent him another one.”

The swizzle stick that was her throat was almost completely sealed up now. “Was it Sam Adams again?”

“No, it was Yuengling. Brewed in Pennsylvania. I’m sure he’s telling everyone I’ve gone soft. I hope you’re happy.”

“I am,” she breathed, pressing her cheek to his shoulder. “That was so sweet of you. Were you even going to tell me you did that?”

“No. And don’t ever expect me to do it again.”

Tallulah beamed up at Burgess. He grunted and brushed a finger against her nose.

His eyes are so beautiful. And is his beard extra full looking today?

Everyone around them had gone very silent.

How long had she been staring at her boss, who she was supposed to be reintroducing to the dating scene? With a nervous laugh, Tallulah removed her cheek from his brawny shoulder. “As I was saying, Burgess has so much to offer—”

“Pardon my frankness, but...” Annie started, one eye squinted. “Is there anything going on between you two?”

“No,” Tallulah said, empathically. “For one, he’s my boss. And two, we’re very different.”

Jeanine wagged a finger between Tallulah and Burgess. “So, just to be clear, nothing has ever happened here?”

“Define happened,” Burgess said, appearing to be enjoying himself.

Because of the attention he was getting from the women?

Why did that possibility make her sweat? This had been her idea.

“Has anything happened . . . physically,” Samara supplied.

“That’s a little forward!” Tallulah laughed/winced.

“She gives me back massages,” Burgess said, downright jovial now. “Does that count?”

Tallulah pinched his elbow, frowning when he only grinned at her. “You’re supposed to be making small talk,” she whispered, before zipping her attention back to the trio of women, which had now expanded to... everyone at the mixer. Roughly a dozen. “Just a friendly massage. Totally innocent.”

He looked up at the sky, lips pursed. “There was also that time we made out in front of the club. You remember that night, don’t you, Tallulah? It was a measly two weeks ago.”

“I was trying to shake off some unwanted attention from another guy,” Tallulah explained, fire climbing her face. “Burgess was just helping me out.”

“I’d be happy to help you out next time,” laughed Pinstripes.

Burgess’s head turned so slowly, time seemed to be moving backward. Birds flew overhead, children laughed and cried on the playground, cars honked, the earth rotated around the sun, and still he was in the process of turning his head. “What do you mean by that, buddy?” Burgess asked, his tone dripping with malice.

Only, the way he said “buddy” sounded more like “future corpse.”

Pinstripes looked like he was choking on a human arm. “Ah, Jesus, I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know why I say anything. That’s why I’m single, I guess.” He scrubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Sir Savage.”

A muscle popped in his jaw. “Why? You didn’t imply you’d like to make out with me .”

“You’re right.” He looked at Tallulah, hands clasped in prayer. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“Please. It’s fine ,” Tallulah laughed, wanting to defuse the situation. “It’s fine.”

“But going back to what we were discussing...” Annie and Samara were elbowing each other. “There’s nothing going on between you?”

“You’re just a rich, eligible, attractive man living with his hot au pair, getting back rubs and occasionally making out with her.” This from Annie. “As friends.”

Burgess looked at Tallulah with mock thoughtfulness. “It does sound a little suspicious when you put it all together like that,” Burgess mused happily.

“Okay. Well, this has been nice—” Tallulah started.

“I’m still willing to give him my number,” piped up a woman in back.

“Me too.” Samara wiped an imaginary tear. “It’s slim pickings out here.”

Annie stuck out a business card, followed by three more business cards being stacked on top. “Call me if this”—air quotes—“‘friendship’ doesn’t work out.”

Burgess smiled at Tallulah while the colorful rectangles were piled into his palm.

Tallulah watched them grow in number with a spike in her throat.

“Are we done here?” Burgess asked, voice low.

“Yes,” Tallulah said, weakly.

“Goodbye to everyone except that guy,” Burgess called, hitting Pinstripes with one final glare, before turning Tallulah around and escorting her back the way they’d come. When they reached the path that would lead them to the exit, however, he steered her around the pond and she went, incapable of gathering the wherewithal to separate from the rich, eligible, attractive man who was filling her with a whole lot of confusing emotions. Every one of those phone numbers was like a kebab skewer to the jugular.

“Well.” He nudged her gently in the ribs. “How’d I do?”

“Great,” she said, trying to sound upbeat. “You were just yourself. No pretenses. Which is... which is good, because, you know, you want people to like you for you —”

“Tallulah.”

“Yes?”

“Look at me.”

She stopped walking.

Burgess stared her right in the eye while ripping the stack of business cards in half and holding them up, letting the wind take them in eighty directions. “We clear?”

“Oh,” she whispered, feeling suddenly and dizzyingly light. “I don’t know—”

“The only woman I’m calling is you.”

The world just kind of doused itself in lavender. “For au pair reasons. And because I’m your friend.”

He cupped the back of her skull, bringing her forward to kiss her forehead. “Whatever you say, gorgeous.” Her eyelashes fluttered when his lips lingered at her hairline. “You got more classes today?”

“Yes. This whole week is going to be busy. Homework, Lissa...” There went the daylight. Her eyes were now closed completely. “And Saturday afternoon, I have the first session of my study group. I figured the timing worked because Lissa is with her mom. But after that, I don’t have plans...”

“Maybe we need to change that.” Burgess’s arm crowded her in tight to his body, so he could speak beside her ear. “Until then, who is the only man you’ll call if you need a ride? If you need any damn thing this week?”

“You.”

His exhale bathed her ear. “Exactly.”

Oh. Wow. Tallulah’s eyes were open again, but she was seeing double. “Huh.”

A chuckle was his response to her puffed monosyllable, but he got serious pretty fast. “Are you getting closer to letting me spend time with you? Just us?”

“Yes,” she whispered, almost to herself. “I think I am.”

“Time for skinny dipping, Tallulah.” Another press of his lips, accompanied by a rumble in his chest. “Don’t you think?”

“It’s supposed to be unseasonably warm this weekend,” she murmured, sounding dazed .

His mouth grazed her ear. “Can’t wait.”

Burgess progressively released her, giving her a long final once-over before turning and striding from the park, his gait more purposeful and cocky than usual, if she wasn’t mistaken. Were those new jeans or did his butt just look incredible in every pair he owned? Tallulah didn’t realize she watched him go the entire way to the exit, until he vanished around the brick pillar.

She tore her eyes from the spot where Burgess had once been, furiously smoothing her hair to distract from the wild, winged butterflies besieging her middle. Her hopes that no one had witnessed her starry-eyed booty appreciation were dashed when she glanced over at the Young Professionals Meetup... and they were all grinning back at her, some of them even saluting her with empty lemonade glasses.

Wonderful.

She clearly hadn’t sold them on her and Burgess being just friends.

And she was beginning to wonder if she’d even sold herself.