The Bad Boy Bargain

“The drive-in?” He shrugged and picked up a rake. “I like a good shake now and then. That’s fine with me. I have practice that afternoon, but I could do it in the evening.”


What? He actually drank something other than malt liquor and Red Bull? “You’ve been there before?”

He turned to smile at her, and her neck grew warm. God, he had a nice smile, one that came out of nowhere and socked you between the eyes. He’d mastered the effect, for sure. This might be harder than she thought. What if she accidently developed more than a crush on him? She couldn’t stand to be tossed aside twice.

And yet she was still blushing.

“Everyone’s been there before,” he was saying. “Why wouldn’t it be my kind of place?”

“Because she thinks you hang out on dark street corners, smoking and playing with your switchblade,” Violet pronounced.

Faith groaned. And now I’m going to die of embarrassment. I won’t even see the new backyard.

Kyle leaned on the rake, studying her best friend. “You have a mouth on you.”

“I’ve heard you do, too. And that you know how to use it,” Violet said, standing up. “Fess up, hot boy. Tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mine.”

His face turned bright pink, and he busied himself with raking up leaves, almost like Violet had frightened him. “I don’t have any secrets.”

“Which guarantees that you do.” Violet hopped off the steps. “Girl, I like this one. He’s multifunctional. There’s depth there.” She planted a kiss on top of Faith’s head. “Just don’t drown.”

“Wait,” Faith said, as Violet sauntered over to the gate. “You’re leaving?”

“My work is done here.” She glanced at Kyle, who stared uneasily back. “Dolly’s, Wednesday. And Kyle? Start talking big to your friends about her. Make it good. But not too good. Save the big story for Thursday after everyone sees you. It’ll require some acting, so maybe you two ought to practice actually looking like a couple. You know, try holding hands, kissing.”

With a devilish smile and a wave, Violet disappeared around the corner of the house, but Faith could hear her cackling madly. Her cheeks flamed, probably turning the same color Kyle’s had just been. Oh God, what had she done?

Swallowing down her embarrassment, Faith said, “Sorry. What can I say? She has no filters.”

Kyle started raking up twigs and leaves left over from his attack on her shrubbery. “I kind of like that, actually. You know exactly where you stand with her.”

Faith’s embarrassment melted a little. “That’s a nice thing to say. Most people don’t get her right off.”

He shot her that sweet smile again and she felt it in her knees. “My grandpa’s a lot like that. You should hear the things that come out of his mouth.” He chuckled. “He’s crazy.”

“And you love him,” she blurted out. But it was the truth—she heard it in his voice, loud and clear and unembarrassed. Who exactly was Kyle Sawyer? The stories she knew didn’t match the guy who tolerated Violet’s smack talk and spoke kindly about his grandfather. Hell, half the people she knew figured he was an alien, dropped here to weigh and measure the population. The other half, mostly female, worshiped his biceps in secret, praying he might spare each of them an hour of his time.

And I’m slowly starting to fall in the second category. She picked at her fingernails, a little afraid of what he might really think of her, the good girl who went to church and doted on her cat. “Sorry. It just sounded…um…”

He turned away. “I do, actually. He and my dad are all I have. My mom died when I was young. It’s just the three of us, and Grandpa raised me, pretty much.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

Kyle attacked the yard with the rake, pulling up grass as he worked. “Don’t be. It was a long time ago.”

An awkward silence followed, begging to be filled. Faith rose from the step. “So, um, what Violet said. Uh, about the kissing thing. Don’t feel like you have to…”

She trailed off and his shoulders bowed. “I wasn’t. Not unless you ask.”

A tiny breath escaped her mouth. Was he saying he would kiss her if she wanted him to? Not surprising—his kisses were cheap, apparently—but he sounded reluctant. Like he, for once, didn’t want to kiss the girl right in front of him. Like she might not be worth the extra effort…and that stung.

She squashed her doubts down deep. This was business. He’d made his motivation for agreeing clear: to get back at Cameron for some past sin. “Are you going to tell me why you’re willing to do this?”

The raking became even more violent. “I thought I did.”

“You have a score to settle. From middle school.”

“That’s right.” He paused to look at her, and his closed-off expression told her not to press.

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