Price of a Kiss (Forbidden Men, #1)

He eyed me a moment longer before shaking his head. “You read a lot of Nancy Drew mysteries when you were a kid, didn’t you?”


I wrinkled my nose. “No. I’ve never even read one. Harry Potter is more my style, and yeah, his curiosity got him into trouble a lot too. As you well know.”

“No,” he murmured, looking almost regretful. “I’ve never read Harry Potter.”

Gasping, I set my hand over my heart and stared at him as if he were an alien. “Are you kidding me? But…everyone’s read Harry Potter.”

He shrugged and didn’t even have the grace to look ashamed or guilty. “Not me.”

“But…but…they’re so…amazing. Don’t worry,” I instantly reassured, reaching out to pat his arm. “I have all the books in the series sitting in my apartment. Next time I babysit Sarah, I’ll bring the first one over for you to see what you think.”

The muscles under my fingertips twitched as if my touch burned him. I noticed his expression then as he stared at my hand still resting on his forearm. I wanted to jerk my fingers away because he seemed so transfixed by our connection, but I couldn’t move. He just looked so…tempted.

I liked it.

Slowly, he slid his arm out from under my gentle grip, severing our contact. “I don’t do freebies,” he said in a throaty voice. “Ever.”

Wow. Okay, then. That had kind of come out of left field.

Had he really thought I’d been coming onto him to score a freebie?

Jeez, had I been coming onto him?

“But I wasn’t…” Scowling, I turned back to my lunch. “Whatever.” Then just as quickly, my snoopy Harry Potter syndrome struck again. Crunching on a crouton, I asked, “What about your personal life, though? What about dating and—” I broke off when he laughed. “What’s so funny?” I totally hated missing out on a joke.

He arched his eyebrows. “Dating? Personal life? Are you serious? The only girls who sniff around me are willing to pay or they’re looking for free services rendered, which only pisses me off.”

“But—”

“And all you monogamous, relationship-conscious ladies stay as far away from me as possible for obvious reasons.”

I made a face. “That can’t be true. I’m sure plenty of—”

“Reese.” He stopped me mid-word by lifting his hand. “Honestly, would you date a…person of my occupation?”

I gulped. Hells to the no, I would not. “Good point.”

“Yeah.” He let out a long, lonely sigh. “Exactly.”

“Well, that’s just sad,” I finally decided. “You can’t date or have recreational…fun, or even fall in love just because you went to drastic measures to save your family?”

Yes, I was feeling bad for a gigolo. Sue me.

He shook his head as if stumped by my sympathy. “I was eighteen when I fell into this. At the time, I was too young and stupid to think about how it would impact my future…so.” He shrugged. “There you have it. Now I’m stuck.”

“No. You can’t be stuck. Surely, there’s something else you could do to make money. Something legal and…and…”

“Moral?” he guessed.

“Yes, and moral. And...”

He chuckled and touched my cheek briefly. “You’re cute, Reese. Cheerful. Optimistic. Funny. But completely deluded.” Grasping his bag, he stood up abruptly, letting me know he was done talking. “Thanks for making my sister smile. And thanks for the tomatoes. I’ll see you around.”

As I watched him take off, I wanted to call after him and make him come back. He’d looked so lonely when he’d said he was stuck. The pain in his eyes had cried for help. It had cried for a friend.

And I could always use a new friend. But I’d have to be extra careful. Because that’s all he could be.





CHAPTER SEVEN




“You’ll never guess what rumor I heard yesterday.”

Eva’s voice startled me Friday morning before Brit Lit as she slid into the seat beside mine. I’d been downloading a few songs Sarah and I could boogie to onto my phone.

“What’s that?” I asked, returning my attention to the four-inch screen to purchase a little Black Eyed Peas.

“I heard my favorite cousin on earth was spotted eating lunch with Waterford’s very own hunky, mysterious gigolo yesterday.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, he—Oh, I forgot to tell you.” I lowered the phone. “That babysitting gig I got—the one I started Wednesday—it’s his sister, Sarah. She has cerebral palsy. Did you know that?”

“About his sister? Yes, I’ve heard.” Eva made a grumbly sound in the back of her throat as she waved her hand. “How does that have anything to do with you sitting all alone in the middle of campus with her brother…yesterday?”

“Well, I guess I’m a kick-ass babysitter.” I tossed my hair over my shoulder as I flashed her a smug grin, preening over my awesomeness. “Miss Sarah raved about her evening with me to him, and he wanted to…I don’t know, thank me, I guess, for being so nice to her.”