Reluctantly Yours (Unexpectedly in Love, #1)

by Erin Hawkins

“Another whiskey, neat, please.” I set my empty glass on the bar.

I take my whiskey neattttt

“Good evening, Mother.” I lean down far enough so she can access my cheek.

Tall, check

I find weddings and love in general to be a waste of my time.

Yeh but, this is a fake dating romance

At the mention of my mother’s assistant, the muscles in my shoulders tense. It’s an automatic response. Chloe Anderson tests my limits with every encounter. She’s been my mother’s assistant for two years, and though I rarely see her, my mind easily conjures her image. Her fiery red hair always pulled up into a knot on her head, allowing access to her slender neck. Those crystal blue eyes, which I find on most occasions pinning me with a disapproving glare, are other worldly. For every inch her petite frame is lacking, she makes up for it in snark and bite. She’s a pint-sized human carrying out my mother’s agenda, which on occasion, like setting up blind dates, only makes my life more difficult.

Oh, so it begins

“That’s wonderful. I bet my girlfriend would love them.” The words tumble out before I can fully realize the consequences of what I’m about to say. “Girlfriend?” Fred asks, surprised. “You said you didn’t have a date.”

Smooth

“So, there is a heart beneath that tuxedo jacket.” “You bet.” I smile, knowing I’ve made some kind of crack in Fred’s impenetrable exterior. And because I’m on a roll, and want to assure him I have no interest in his girlfriend, I continue, “She’s the love of my life.”

LOML BY TAYLOR SWIFT

“Sounds great,” I say with all the confidence of a man who has a girlfriend. Apparently, I’ve found an in with Fred Hinkle. The only problem now is I have a week to find this so called ‘love of my life.’

I think i know exactly where this is going

“You fell asleep with a book on your face again, didn’t you?” Jules, my friend and co-worker at St. Clair Press, points at the crease lines that must still be prominent on my face.

Relatable

I wouldn’t know much about either, love or committing to one dick. In this city of apparent endless dicks—according to Jules—I’ve yet to explore even one.

Mood.

The only reason I’m up past midnight is if I can’t put down the book I’m reading.

Ha, me rn up at 1:37am

and a black coffee for me—definitely not the way I like it. But today I feel like being like those book editors I’ve always read about, drinking black coffee and smoking cigarettes. I refuse to smoke but I’ll try the coffee.

Both are ewww

I take a sip of the warm black liquid, trying not to grimace. Black coffee is gross.

My coffee back, in my bed at 3

While JoAnna is warm and personable, Barrett is a robot in a suit. His cold, dismissive eyes could refreeze the melting polar ice caps. With one glance, he could put an end to global warming. He’s obnoxiously handsome, which maybe isn’t his fault. Barrett is a spitting image of his father, but where I’ve seen pictures of the elder St. Clair with a devilishly handsome smile, Barrett’s media shots are in the running for “Most Expressionless, Yet Devastatingly Handsome Man” category.

Of course hes gorgeous

Maybe my dislike for Barrett is rooted in the fact that from our very first encounter, he didn’t like me. JoAnna introduced us at a luncheon she hosted two years ago, when I had first started working for her. He took one look at me, those hazel eyes of his briefly tracking over my body before he gave a curt nod and brushed past me.

Plz dont be one where hes been in love with her since the beginning,,, i need pure hatred and just loathinggggg

My heels click against the Italian marble. I’m not a tall person. Five foot two if it’s an eighties themed party and I’ve got an inch of teased hair. While heels aren’t practical for running errands around the city, they’re a must when entering enemy camp. I’ll need full height today. It’s important to stand tall and appear larger so I don’t look like prey.

Height difference >>>>

The sound of size twelve wing tips striding toward us ratchets up my pulse. Even on carpet, his footfalls echo ominously. And because every villain has a theme song, somewhere an imaginary speaker system pipes in Foreigner’s “Cold As Ice.”

She knows the way his footfalls hit the earth <3

While I’m aware of his facial features, I try to keep the details of Barrett’s body out of my mind. He’s not just a floating head, so I know he has one. It’s been covered in a suit every time I’ve seen him. A suit that fits over broad shoulders and a trim waist. There’s no need to go into details about the fit of his pants over his muscular thighs or the way they hug his firm ass. We won’t even discuss the slight bulge at the front of his pants that I most definitely do not ever squint to see better.

Men written by women >>>

He's the kind of man that you could stare at for hours imagining all the filthy things he might say to you, but when he opens his mouth to speak, he inevitably ruins everything. “What are you doing here?” Barrett asks, barely stopping before we’re toe to toe.

Hehehe

“I want to hear where my money is going. Why I’m donating a million dollars to your cause.” “That’s a good question. Why are you only donating a million dollars? You’re a gajillionaire. You could afford to donate more.” He smirks, but doesn’t say anything. Again, silence is his weapon of choice.

;)

yet I spent the majority of our one-hour lunch date thinking about another woman. The one who had delivered the news of the date via post-it note on my desk.

Hehehe

Carl’s mouth gapes open, “Fuck, dude, what are you going to do?” “I’m going to find a girlfriend in the next thirty-six hours.”

I know where to find oneeee

I’d nearly stood Tessa up strictly based on my need to deny the pint-sized woman who delivered the message the smugness of knowing that my mother was setting me up on dates. Thinking of Chloe’s full, pink lips twitching with amusement makes my jaw ache with the pressure my molars are applying to each other. I need to forget about Chloe. I won’t let myself wonder if she’s somewhere in the city with her own date tonight.

Dude is so obsessed

but it would relieve the rising anger I’m feeling toward Barrett right now. Logically, it’s not his fault, but the stress of the situation is taking over my brain. Whether it’s his fault or not, I have the desire to lump this misunderstanding in with all the other grievances I have with him. Like why does he look so good in a suit? How can his hazel eyes look both green and gold at the same time? It’s obnoxious really.

Ooooo

His hazel gaze holds mine, intense and challenging, before his full lips slide into a devilish smirk. “Chloe Anderson,” he shakes his head, “you’ve been a bad girl.”

GASPPPPP

That being said, I didn’t expect the warmth of his body. I expected his body to mirror that of his icy stare. Cold and rigid. That there must also be cold blood running through his veins, either that or wires to connect to his hard drive. It’s nice to feel the heat of his skin and muscle through the fabric of his suit.

Oooo lala

I cross my arms over my chest, and swear for a nano second Barrett’s eyes drop below my face. My eyes drop to find my breasts pushed up higher on my chest, giving Barrett a full view of my cleavage. There’s no way Barrett is staring at my chest. That would require feeling something and he’s dead inside, but I drop my arms anyway.

He totally looked, men are simple like that

“I’m having dinner with a business associate. I need a companion for the evening.” “I’m not sleeping with you.” Barrett’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. Oh, shit. Did I say that out loud? “I mean, why me?” I ask. “You’re tolerable.” “Geez, catch me before I swoon.”

HA

Lana plugs her phone into the sound system and we annoy the driver the rest of the way to the club with our off-key singing to Taylor Swift.

As one should!!

I’m on cloud nine until Veronica finishes filling the champagne glasses, and hands me a small card. Be safe – B

A man a man a mannnnnnn

As the women sip champagne and dance around our private space, I glance back down at the card Veronica had given to me. I think I might have sold my soul to the devil.

At least hes gorgeous

A set of legs, from ankle to mid-thigh, come into view. I recognize them instantly. I tell myself it’s because I know Chloe is in the car, not because I have the shape of her legs memorized.

;)

Chloe has no jacket on her bare arms. That’s not the only thing that is bare. Her dress is black, short and tight. “What the hell are you wearing?” My eyes scan her up and down. It’s a feast, and the delicacy is Chloe’s smooth, creamy skin.

Haha!

“A dress.” She motions to the length of said dress. “Where’s the rest of it?” I growl. “This is all there is.” “Bea sent over a dress, why didn’t you wear it?” “This is the dress Bea sent over,” she argues.

Love ya Bea

She motions to her chest. “I can barely breathe and I spent twenty minutes adjusting my boobs in this damn thing!” My eyes immediately drop to Chloe’s chest. The top of her dress is tight which pushes her breasts up, exposing generous cleavage.

See, simple creatures

I reach for her hand and start walking toward the entrance of the restaurant. “What’s with the hand holding?” she asks, rushing to keep up with my longer stride. “It’s so you don’t run away.” Chloe hums in disapproval, but doesn’t fight me on it.

Awe

“Thank you for the champagne last night,” she says softly. “It was nothing,” I say. “It was something.”

Themmmmm

“Do you want me to order for you?” I ask her. “Yes, please.” She sighs, placing the menu back on the table. “You should try a sex on the beach. They’re delicious.” “Okay,” Chloe agrees.

Men ordering for their women >>>

“Was it love at first sight like with me and Fred?” Frankie asks, then slides one hand affectionately over Fred’s shoulder. “Yes,” I answer as Chloe responds, “No.” “What Chloe means is that she was not a big fan of me but I was quite taken with her.”

I have a feeling thats no lie

I don’t even want to chance looking down at her body. Fuck, too late. With our height difference, my eyes fall straight into her cleavage.

Oh no. What an awful sight!

Except, whether I want to admit it or not, I am attracted to Chloe. Based on my reaction to Chloe in her dress, or the fact that I couldn’t get the image of her in that sparkly dress she was in last night out of my head, I won’t have to pretend. She doesn’t need to know that.

Simp alert

This woman frustrates the hell out of me, while also managing to make my dick as hard as stone. It’s a paradox I want nothing to do with, but I can’t let her shiver on the sidewalk. I remove my jacket and drape it over her shoulders. “I’m fine. Really. I don’t need your jacket.” She tries to shake it off, but I move out of her reach.

Themmm

With one hand on my hip, his other hand reaches up to cradle my face. The pads of his fingers caress the shell of my ear and it causes a shiver to run through me. The air in my lungs escapes with a whoosh and before I can take another breath in, Barrett’s lips are on mine. It’s a soft, firm press, nothing more. That’s fine. It’s not real anyways.

LORD ALMIGHTLY

But, fuck if her big blue eyes looking at me like I’m a monster don’t make me want to do better. There’s a pinch in my chest that makes me decide I don’t want to be the asshole she thinks I am.

:(((

Because Barrett is not boyfriend material. He’s the last guy I would want to date. Dismissive, demanding, only cares about himself.

Uhhuh

“Let me guess, you’re a vanilla kind of guy?” “I don’t eat ice cream,” he responds. I nearly fall out of my seat with this discovery, but then again, maybe it makes sense. “I think that’s worse than being vanilla guy. At least vanilla guy is in the game.”

Vanilla isnt how I’d describe Barrett…

Barrett uncaps his pen, then places the cap on the end. Why that simple movement makes my legs start to shake is unexplainable. Or completely obvious. It’s the same reaction I had when he signed the fundraiser check in his office last week. Apparently, I’m horny for Barrett’s hands. They are sexy. They’re large, yet elegant. Can hands be elegant? Maybe it’s his long fingers or the way they look so fucking capable, and capable of fucking. Oh, shit. Do

Okay pride and prejudice

“It doesn’t feel safe. You couldn’t even get out that window if there was a fire. And that’s saying something.” “Ah, small person jokes. You’re hilarious.” “I like that you’re small,” I say without thinking. “What?” Her head jerks in my direction.

Oh boi

I open the door to another room and my heart pitter patters with delight at what I find. I don’t know where to look first. The walls of bookshelves filled from floor to ceiling. A gold chandelier that offsets the dark navy walls. Cognac leather couches arranged around a fireplace. Did I mention the bookshelves? And there’s a ladder, too. There’s an honest to God ladder so you can reach the books on the top shelf because the ceiling is at least twelve feet tall.

Its giving beauty and the beast

“Are you going to be like the Beast and allow me access to any book in your library?” “What beast?” “Like in the Disney movie Beauty and the Beast where he holds her captive and she loves to read so he lets her use his library.” “I’m not holding you captive.” “Blackmail is a form of captivity.” “And you’re Beauty in this instance?” “Belle. Her name is Belle.

CALLED IT