Chapter One
Bree Simmons held the collar of her wool coat closed as the wind off the ocean blasted past the front of the office building. She should have worn pants to work, but her little plaid skirt was so much more fun. More fitting to the mood she’d been in when she woke. Flirty. Dangerous. It was Friday, the end of a long week, and she planned to make the most of the beginning of her weekend.
“ Bree, wait up!” Ash Uberman, the hunky graphic artist who worked two cubicles away from hers trotted up. His blond hair danced in the blowing air. “Whew, this wind is crazy.”
“ Yes, and thanks for making me stand in it longer. What’s up?”
He smiled and she forgot how cold her legs were. “I need a favor. Huge favor.”
They were friendly enough to have lunch on occasion, often with a few other coworkers, but other than the major crush she had on him , she wouldn’t call them friends. Still, with the right kind of favor, that could change. Or she could hope so. “Depends. What kind of favor?”
“ I need a date.”
She laughed loudly at the outrageousness of that statement. “You need a date? I hear you on the phone all the time, baby this, sugar that. Someone stand you up?”
He glanced around the n took her elbow and walked toward the parking lot. “It’s a long story. Can I buy you a drink?”
Dying to find out what was going on, she said, “Sure.”
She followed him to a small pub not far from the office and he found them a small table in a corner near the fireplace, which she was very grateful to find burning brightly. She took off her coat and draped it over the chair while Ash went to the bar to get their drinks. She was a bit surprised when he came back with her favorite, a strawberry stripper. The man paid attention.
He sat and poured his ale into a frosty glass. “Now, then. The favor. I need a date to a wedding.”
She raised an eyebrow. “One of your sugar babies can’t help you out?”
“ I don’t want to ask any of them. This is important.”
She sipped her drink while she let that digest. It was too important to ask one of his bimbettes, so he was asking her. She shivered, and blamed it on the cold drink, not the thought that he would ask her to do him an important favor. “So, when’s the wedding?”
“ Next weekend.”
“ Weekend,” she repeated. “Not next Saturday or next Sunday. They have some special ritualistic ceremony or something?”
“ No. The wedding is at the Snowshoe Mountain Lodge. I have to be there Friday night for the bachelor party. The wedding is Saturday. I plan to come home Sunday.”
A weekend at the lodge, and all she had to do was show up at a wedding and reception. Hello . She’d be nuts not to go. If Ash wasn’t interested in warming her bed, she was sure she could find a lonely skier who’d be game. “I pretend to be your date and you pay for the weekend?”
His cool blue eyes locked on hers as if searching for something. “Well, yeah, if you have to pretend, I guess that still works.”
Aww . That cute puppy sound went off in her head and tugged at her heart. He wanted her for a real date. He was too cute. “I’m sorry, you said you needed a favor so I assumed pretending to like you was the favor.”
Shit! She should just shove her whole boot in her mouth, since her foot was so far in. “Wait, I didn’t mean that. I meant—well, I don’t know what I meant. I’m a bitch, what can I say. I know, how’s this? I would love to be your date for the wedding.”
He smiled and took a quick swig of his beer. “Thanks. I can’t tell you how important this is.”
“ You know, you could have saved me a lot of embarrassing moments here if you had just asked me to go as your date.”
He looked around the room , avoiding her gaze. “I wasn’t sure you’d go. I mean, I guess I should tell you I’m the best man, so everyone is going to be looking at who I bring to the wedding.”
She was a trophy date. This kept getting
Bree Simmons held the collar of her wool coat closed as the wind off the ocean blasted past the front of the office building. She should have worn pants to work, but her little plaid skirt was so much more fun. More fitting to the mood she’d been in when she woke. Flirty. Dangerous. It was Friday, the end of a long week, and she planned to make the most of the beginning of her weekend.
“ Bree, wait up!” Ash Uberman, the hunky graphic artist who worked two cubicles away from hers trotted up. His blond hair danced in the blowing air. “Whew, this wind is crazy.”
“ Yes, and thanks for making me stand in it longer. What’s up?”
He smiled and she forgot how cold her legs were. “I need a favor. Huge favor.”
They were friendly enough to have lunch on occasion, often with a few other coworkers, but other than the major crush she had on him , she wouldn’t call them friends. Still, with the right kind of favor, that could change. Or she could hope so. “Depends. What kind of favor?”
“ I need a date.”
She laughed loudly at the outrageousness of that statement. “You need a date? I hear you on the phone all the time, baby this, sugar that. Someone stand you up?”
He glanced around the n took her elbow and walked toward the parking lot. “It’s a long story. Can I buy you a drink?”
Dying to find out what was going on, she said, “Sure.”
She followed him to a small pub not far from the office and he found them a small table in a corner near the fireplace, which she was very grateful to find burning brightly. She took off her coat and draped it over the chair while Ash went to the bar to get their drinks. She was a bit surprised when he came back with her favorite, a strawberry stripper. The man paid attention.
He sat and poured his ale into a frosty glass. “Now, then. The favor. I need a date to a wedding.”
She raised an eyebrow. “One of your sugar babies can’t help you out?”
“ I don’t want to ask any of them. This is important.”
She sipped her drink while she let that digest. It was too important to ask one of his bimbettes, so he was asking her. She shivered, and blamed it on the cold drink, not the thought that he would ask her to do him an important favor. “So, when’s the wedding?”
“ Next weekend.”
“ Weekend,” she repeated. “Not next Saturday or next Sunday. They have some special ritualistic ceremony or something?”
“ No. The wedding is at the Snowshoe Mountain Lodge. I have to be there Friday night for the bachelor party. The wedding is Saturday. I plan to come home Sunday.”
A weekend at the lodge, and all she had to do was show up at a wedding and reception. Hello . She’d be nuts not to go. If Ash wasn’t interested in warming her bed, she was sure she could find a lonely skier who’d be game. “I pretend to be your date and you pay for the weekend?”
His cool blue eyes locked on hers as if searching for something. “Well, yeah, if you have to pretend, I guess that still works.”
Aww . That cute puppy sound went off in her head and tugged at her heart. He wanted her for a real date. He was too cute. “I’m sorry, you said you needed a favor so I assumed pretending to like you was the favor.”
Shit! She should just shove her whole boot in her mouth, since her foot was so far in. “Wait, I didn’t mean that. I meant—well, I don’t know what I meant. I’m a bitch, what can I say. I know, how’s this? I would love to be your date for the wedding.”
He smiled and took a quick swig of his beer. “Thanks. I can’t tell you how important this is.”
“ You know, you could have saved me a lot of embarrassing moments here if you had just asked me to go as your date.”
He looked around the room , avoiding her gaze. “I wasn’t sure you’d go. I mean, I guess I should tell you I’m the best man, so everyone is going to be looking at who I bring to the wedding.”
She was a trophy date. This kept getting
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