CHANGING THE PLAYER: Charleston Pirates #1 by Chance, Jacob (digital e reader TXT) 📕

know what I’d find if I could. I know that his jeans, worn in all the right places, hug his muscular thighs. As much as I hate to admit it, I noticed when he walked in.

“No, you don’t look wholesome, but you better find a way to. Maybe we should dress you in different clothes.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” he asks.

Absolutely nothing if you want to ooze sex and trouble.

“Nothing’s wrong with them, but maybe you should buy some sweaters and khakis.”

“Really? Sweaters and khakis are wholesome?” he questions, and I shrug.

He throws his hands up. “Christ, Nadia. If you don’t know what to do, how am I supposed to? I employ you because of your level head, and I need your clear thinking now more than ever. Help me out here, please.” He surprises me with his earnestness.

Sitting in silence, I watch my cherry red nails drum on the wooden desk while I search for any idea that could help him. I’m a resourceful person. I have to be able to come up with something useful. My eyes climb to meet Flynn’s. “Dating someone could help your image. Is there a woman you’re interested in?”

“Not for more than one night,” he says.

I sigh. “Ugh. Work with me, why don’t you.”

“Hey, I’m just being honest.”

“Well, you need to find someone to date.”

“Fuck that. I don’t want a girlfriend or I’d already have one.”

“You want to keep your job, right?” I ask, and he nods, looking glum. “And you trust me to help you, right?”

“Yeah, of course I do.”

“You don’t necessarily need an actual girlfriend. You just need people to think you’re in a relationship,” I explain.

He angles his head to the side, studying my face. “Are you saying I should find someone to pretend to be my girlfriend?”

“It’s not the worst idea. It would make you look more settled.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know anyone who would help me out,” he says.

“You don’t have a female friend who could pretend to be with you for a couple of months? That’s not much to ask.” How does someone who looks like him not have a female friend who’d help him out in a pinch?

3

Flynn

I take in Nadia’s words and my eyes open as wide as possible. “Holy shit. You’re a genius.”

“I am?” She tips her head, looking skeptical.

“I think you just helped me figure out the perfect solution to my problem.” A grin spreads across my face.

“I did?”

“I don’t know why you didn’t suggest this yourself.”

She lifts a well-groomed eyebrow. “Maybe you should share your idea with me since I have no clue what it could be.”

“You can be my girlfriend.”

“Say what?” Her entire face scrunches like a little shar pei puppy.

“Come on. You heard me.”

“I couldn’t have possibly heard right.” She sticks the tip of her index finger in her ear and wiggles it around.

I lean forward, resting my arms on her desk. “I said you should be my girlfriend.”

She presses her lips together in a questioning expression. “You’re kidding, right? I’m not girlfriend material.”

Reaching forward, I clasp hold of both her hands. “Why not?”

“For one, I’m your agent.”

I shake my head dismissively. “No one will care about that.”

“And two, I’m too old for you.”

My eyes glide over her face noting the smooth skin and sharp angles of her cheekbones, as if I’m seeing her for the first time. “How old are you?”

Her brown eyes narrow. “You’re not supposed to ask a lady her age.”

“Humor me.”

She sighs. “Thirty-five.”

“Well, I’m twenty-seven.”

“I’m well aware of your age, Flynn. Why do you think I said I’m too old.”

“Nah.” My thumbs slide across the backs of her hands in soothing caresses. “It’s only eight years. Besides, you look younger anyway.”

“But I’m not your type.”

“What does that mean?” Nadia is beautiful. She’s every guy’s type.

“The women you date,” she pauses. “They have a certain look about them.”

“Oh, the big...” I trail off, smirking. It’s not like I only go after women with ample breasts. It’s a happy accident that it almost always seems to work out that way. Maybe big breasted women just dig me.

“Pretty much.”

My gaze lowers, homing in on her chest. She’s not lacking, by any means. “Yours look fine to me,” I joke. But they’re more than fine. They’re a perky handful, and I have big hands. I’m not sure why I’ve never noticed before.

Cheeks pink with embarrassment, she tugs her hands free from my hold and crosses her arms in front of her chest, trying to block my view. In reality, all she’s managed to do is call more attention to the arresting pair. “Kindly keep your eyes off my breasts.”

“That might be difficult to do now that you’re my girlfriend.”

She gasps, leaning back in her chair. “I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Come on, Nadia. I need your help.” I do my best lonely puppy dog in the shelter cage impression. I need to sway her. “I don’t want to lose my job.”

“Then maybe you should think about changing your behavior,” she snarks.

She’s not wrong.

“I have thought about it, but I need someone to help me.”

“You’re a grown-ass man. Don’t you think it’s time you acted like one?”

I wish it were that easy.

“It’s not that simple for me. Once I’m out in public and having fun, I lose control of myself. I don’t know when to stop, and usually by the time I do, I’ve already gone too far.”

“So you want me to be your babysitter in addition to your pretend girlfriend?” She huffs the question out, her exasperation apparent.

“That’s not how I’d put it exactly.”

“Well, how would you put it, then?”

“You’d be my fake girlfriend and you’d provide a gentle reminder to behave when I need one.”

“What do you mean by a ‘gentle reminder’? Are we talking about an elbow jab or a shock collar like a dog? Because the latter could be kind of fun.”

“I never imagined you were the kinky type,” I joke.

“You know, this goes way above my job description.”

“I realize that. I’ll compensate you