Kickin' It (Red Card #2)(54)

“Shit.” I ran my free hand through my hair, frustrated that I hadn’t thought of it and irritated that it was even an issue. I’d been so worried about how dating her would look to others that I hadn’t even considered the legal ramifications. “I’ll figure something out, maybe I can give her to another one of the—”

Willow shook her head. “But she trusts you. Look, it’s not a big deal now, but once she inks a deal, which we know she will, she’s going to need to separate business and personal. Wow, I just sounded so ridiculously old, like you, that I may need to buy a pair of spectacles, but the cute ones you get at Barney’s that just make you look smarter.”

My smile was strained as all the possibilities weighed my shoulders down. “You are smart.”

“I know that,” she said without sarcasm. “But thank you anyway. Just focus on your run and I’ll go look through the contract. It’s going to be fine, okay?”

“Okay.” I kissed her forehead. “Promise me that you’re happy with Jagger? I mean he’s . . .”

“A total player, douche, and all-around pain in your ass, yeah, I get it, but he’s incredible to me. I really, really like him, so don’t mess this up just because you can’t stand the fact that he saw me naked and we played tag . . . with whipped cream and Skittles.”

I nodded. “Wow, and with that visual . . .”

“I was it.” She laughed and did a little dance.

“Never again. We’re never speaking of this again.” I shuddered and walked off, thoughts of my business relationship with Parker plaguing my mind.





Chapter Twenty-Seven

PARKER

“You know . . .” I grabbed a bottle of water while Willow typed away on her laptop. The run had done wonders for my nerves. Matt had disappeared into his office and Jagger followed. “You could have told me your evil plan.”

She grinned at the screen. “You guys would have fought it. I mean let’s be honest, you already tried to fight it. I figured if I let you in on my evil plan you guys would kill each other first.”

I shrugged. “You may have a point there.”

“I know my brother, and I know you. Both so stubborn it’s ridiculous but the best people I’ve ever known.” More typing and clicking filled the room. She was working really hard for a Saturday. “Besides, I wasn’t even sure it would work. It was hard enough lying about the hotel and pretending that I didn’t notice all his lingering glances at your ass.”

“I didn’t linger on her ass,” Matt said, sweeping into the room. Dark skinny jeans hugged his legs, perfectly complementing his brown boots and a tight green vintage tee that made him look like he was ready to go on tour somewhere.

I let out a girly sigh when he smiled my way, his glossy blond hair was seriously too thick and pretty. It wasn’t fair.

I mean I was the girl who carried Pringles in her hair.

With the guy who could grace magazine covers and star in the next box-office blockbuster.

“Any luck?” He pointed the question to Willow.

“Nope.” She sighed. “But I’ll figure it out. Alright you two, just go have fun.”

“We two?” I asked. “What are we two doing?”

Matt grinned and reached for my hands, interlocking our fingers as he pulled me into his arms. “I know you’re stressed, I figured this would be the easiest way to get you to stop thinking.”

“There’s a lot of ways to get me to stop thinking.”

“Sitting right here,” Willow said in a singsong voice.

I ignored her and focused on his perfect lips as he flashed me a million-dollar grin.

“Dinner.”

My stomach dropped. “Oh, so dinner as . . . agent and . . . gotcha. No, that would make sense, people wouldn’t speculate—”

“Parker . . .”

“Yeah?” I pasted a happy smile on my face.

“We’ll have the whole restaurant to ourselves.”

“People, they . . .” My smile was so wide it was almost embarrassing. “They do those things?”

“My brother does those things. He has money to burn,” Willow piped up. “Why do you think I have a shoe obsession?”

“What should I wear?” I bit down on my lip in excitement.

“Nothing.” His first answer.

Another gag from Willow.

After a moment, he relented. “Just dress comfortable, alright? Nothing too fancy, I promise, just a nice dinner by the water . . .”

“Water?” I sighed happily. “Give me ten minutes.”

I was not five steps down the hall when Willow followed me, dragged me into one of the guest rooms, and shut the door. “You’re not wearing jeans.”

“But—”

“I did not work my ass off to get you guys together for you to go out on your first real date with my brother in jeans.”

I pouted. “He said comfortable.”

“He’s a guy, all he cares is if he can cop a feel later. You could wear a muumuu, and he’d be all, ‘Oh, Parker, you’re so beautiful, Parker, is that a chip in your hair, Parker? I love chips! Let’s have a billion babies.’”

I gave her the finger.