Bad Bridesmaid (Billionaire's Club Book 11) by Elise Faber (important books to read txt) 📕

“You better not fall down this one,” Brad murmured into her ear.

She laughed, startled. “You’re joking about it now?”

“I’ve witnessed several more of your so-called clumsy skills,” he said, his hot breath still on her skin and making her shiver. “Do you remember the incident just last night when you somehow managed to get your hair stuck on the knob of the cabinet?”

She remembered all right.

She also remembered the gentle fingers untangling the strands, the way her body had reacted so intensely to his proximity.

“Rude,” she muttered, even though she was definitely affected by his proximity even now. A woman had to have some pride, and if she couldn’t muster at least a modicum of sarcasm, where would she be?

“The truth,” he said. “And my point is that I think I can afford a small joke.”

She wrinkled her nose. “At least this one is better than your prison joke.”

He hissed out a breath. “Ouch, that’s cold,” he said, stepping back and taking her hand. “You’re right, but damn, that’s cold.”

Giggling, she tugged him toward the stairs that would take them to the bottom level of the ferry, where they could disembark. “Come on, I need to get my audio tour and visit the gift shop.”

“And here I’d prepared myself to play tour guide,” he said dryly as they hit the bottom step. “I even have one of those little flowers so you can easily find me in the crowd.”

“Do you really?”

His expression went serious, and he reached into his back pocket.

Her mouth dropped open.

But then he grinned, holding up his empty hand. “Seriously, though, I did do some research before coming. Redoing the visitor’s center’s website is next on my client list.”

“Isn’t it run by the government?”

“I have a contract with the government,” he said and leaned close. “And now that I’ve told you that, I have to kill you.”

She swatted him. “Stop joking around,” she told him. “Because seriously, that’s awesome. How long have you had the contract?”

“For a few years. The actual National Parks Service site is run and managed by the government—I would never have the capacity to set up something so vast. But a lot of the visitor’s centers and tourist attractions are run by an outside company.” He shrugged. “I did that company’s main site maybe five years back, and then a higher up in the tech department asked me to do a spread for Crater Lake. Now, I’ve been slowly working my way through a lot of the national parks’ visitor interfaces. They do the actual functionality and building. I just advise on design and useability.” He continued to hold her hand as they walked down the gangway. “Next week is Alcatraz, and since it’s here, I figured now would be as good a time as any to see The Rock.”

“Wow. That’s really impressive.”

Another shrug. “Not really, and certainly there wasn’t any skill involved,” he said, “I’m just lucky that this fell into my lap and I could make a career out of it.”

“They wouldn’t keep you on if you weren’t good.”

He glanced down at her, eyes dancing. “Don’t you know anything about our government? It’s a giant pile of incompetence and overspend.”

“Ah, so optimistic,” she teased.

“Realistic is more like it.”

“Okay then,” she declared. “I will be the barometer of all things talented. You’ll show me a portfolio of your work, and I shall decree whether or not you’re worthy.”

He tugged a lock of her hair, blowing in the breeze. “Should I get you a crown, too?”

She fought back a smile. “Obviously.” A beat. “And a scepter.”

He mimed making a note. “I’ve got it on my mental checklist.”

“More like your mental bullshit meter,” she said.

A tap to his nose. “Ding. Ding. Ding.”

She glanced up at him, totally losing her fight with the smile, seeing that he wore an answering one in return. “I also feel obligated to point out,” she said, “that you’ve taken me on a date so you can work.”

His mouth dropped open.

“Am I right?”

He shook his head, a band of pink appearing on his cheeks. “No, I— That’s not what I was doing. I just thought that since you said you hadn’t seen a lot of touristy things and I was getting ready to work on this that—”

“Work,” she repeated in a sing-song voice.

His lips parted. Closed. Parted again. “Shit. I’m an asshole.”

She went on tiptoe, let her mouth drift close to his ear, and felt a thrill weave through her when he shivered, at knowing that he was just as affected by her as she was by him. “But you’re my asshole,” she whispered.

He turned his head, eyes blazing with emotion as they met hers. Then his lips quirked. “Yes, I am.”

Heart pounding at the undertones in the conversation, knowing that neither of them was sincere about the asshole part, Heidi forced her gaze away and concentrated on just breathing. They’d reached solid ground. The ferry-load of people were weaving their way up the path to enter the historic site, and they were all but alone under the partly cloudy day, the wind in their air, the faint scent of the Pacific Ocean just beyond the Golden Gate filling her nose.

It was a beautiful day with a beautiful man, and she was having the time of her life just chatting and joking and walking with him.

If that wasn’t the Unicorn, she didn’t know what was.

And that was when Heidi lost her battle with self-control.

Rising up on tiptoe, she kissed him.

And not on his forehead, either.

Fifteen

Brad

He was stunned into stillness for a heartbeat.

Then he kissed her back.

He’d been thinking how beautiful she was with the sunlight dappling her skin, the wind ruffling her hair, the laughter dancing in her eyes. He’d been thinking how much he wanted to kiss her, how hard it was becoming to resist the urge.

And now she’d just tugged him to the side of the path, had pressed her soft, curvy body to his, and kissed him.

His lips parted automatically, his