The Play Mate (Roommates, #2)

I’d woken with a start right as she’d stepped into the water, buck naked, and pressed the full length of that soft body against my oh-so-hard one. And lucky thing I did, because things were about to get sticky in first class.

“You want to order a couple appetizers while we wait?”

I jerked my gaze back to Cullen and cleared my throat. “Sure, whatever you feel like.”

Could I be more of an asshole right now? The guy was thrilled to see me after almost a year, and here I was, picturing his sister naked. Not that it had really been her body I was picturing. No possible way could she be that sexy under those clothes.

Could she?

Just as my blood started draining south again, I slammed the door on those thoughts and reached for my briefcase.

The best cure for sex on the brain was work.

“So, talk to me about what’s going on at Sophia’s. I ran through the numbers you sent me, and it seems like the expansion may have been a little premature.” Sophia’s was the lingerie company started by his grandmother when Cullen was still in diapers.

Cullen winced, but I held up a hand.

“Don’t freak out. Things were looking really good, and it’s not catastrophic. I think it can be fixed, but you’re going to have to get creative. It would be a major plus if there was a way to increase sales before the end of the year in order to beef up cash flow a little.”

“Funny you mention that,” he said, taking a sip of his Scotch. “We’re already looking at new sales avenues, expanding our reach on social media and trying some new advertising. That part’s all still in its infancy. Before Nana died, she was against all of that. It was like pulling teeth for her to even consider monetizing the website. She was old school. She wanted people to come in and touch the fabrics, have the boutique experience. No matter a woman’s body type or age, she wanted them to walk out feeling beautiful.”

Cullen’s smile was tinged with sadness, and for a second, I envied him. Yes, he’d lost his grandmother, but when she was alive, at least they’d had that close-knit bond. The whole Reed family did.

I had been lucky enough to get adopted at the age of six into a loving family, but my parents had been in their mid-fifties at the time, and my adopted siblings were all much older than me. I was really only close with my youngest sister, Pam. I loved them all dearly and would forever be grateful for all they’d done, but I’d always felt like I’d been missing something, always felt like the odd man out.

“This company was your grandmother’s baby, and I want to make sure that we never lose that core concept. That’s the brand. So we’ve got to maintain that personal feel of a boutique on the front end while making the back end function much more efficiently businesswise,” I said, hoping I was calming his nerves.

I never imagined I’d be working with Cullen, but running a small part of my own family’s well-oiled machine left me with some down time. I was the type who’d rather fill that time with something productive rather than laze around. I guess you could call me type A.

Cullen’s grin widened and he shot me a wink. “That’s where you come in. Can you help us figure out how to make the capital we do have stretch a little further to get us through the winter? Once spring arrives and all the fashion shows come to Paris, we’re going to be golden. But for now?” He shrugged. “Things are lean.”

I popped open my briefcase and pulled out the file folder I’d spent last week preparing. Then I slid it across the bar in front of him. He opened it and scanned the summary page quickly, and then shot me an incredulous glance.

“Seriously?” he asked. “Are you sure?”Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“I’m as sure as I can be. Investing isn’t an exact science, but I’ve got the capital to play with. I’ve looked at your holdings and the projections for spring, and I agree with you. Next year is going to be great. You just need a little help to get over the hump.”

Cullen looked away for a second, the tension seeming to roll out of him in a wave as he blew out a breath. “I can’t tell you what this means to me. It’s . . . it’s everything, Smith. You’re the best friend a guy could have. There’s no one better.”

The words felt like nails being hammered into my chest, one by one. If I was such a good friend, I wouldn’t be imagining your baby sister straddling my lap, or with something a lot bigger than her thumb in her mouth.

But I kept my thoughts to myself because I was going to beat this thing. Not the over-aroused fucker in my pants. Although, depending on what Evie showed up wearing, I might have to beat that too.

No, I was going to beat this attraction to her. Wrestle it to the ground, put it in an arm hold, and make it my bitch.

And nothing was going to stop me. Not even sexy, curvy-hipped, Evie.