Total D*ck(28)

I figured if I could just fuck her and get it out of my system, I could settle down. That was the plan. It would work. And then I’d be on to the next conquest as usual.

I pulled up to the wrought iron gate with the double L insignia along the top and pressed the speaker box.

A man with a British accent answered brightly. “May I help you, sir?”

“Yes, I’m here to see Ms. Carmichael.” I gave what I hoped was a winning smile to the small camera situated above the speaker. “I’m her date for the lunch.” Never hurt to add a little to the story.

Silence . . . Then some more silence . . . Silence to the point I just knew Scarlett and all her snobby friends were having a good laugh. But then the gate began to swing silently inward.

I winked at the camera and drove onto Lynch Lane, my tires rumbling over the cobblestones that wound through an estate full of azaleas and mature oaks. The sun filtered through the leafless branches and warmed the otherwise dormant landscape. A house, a brick antebellum number with wisteria climbing the Georgian columns along the front porch, came into view. I pulled around the circular drive and parked next to a row of cars—all of them pricey.

I wondered for a moment if I’d bitten off more than I could chew. Nah. Glancing in the mirror, I smoothed my hair down as best I could. Operation Penetrate Scarlett Carmichael” was a go.

The air was crisp, but not cold for early February. The sun warmed me as I climbed the steps to the porch and used a giant brass knocker on one of the doors.

A young man with blond hair and the whitest teeth I’d ever seen opened the door for me and waved me inside. “Welcome.” The same British voice from the speaker. “The luncheon is in the sunroom. Right this way.”

“Sure.” I glanced around, taking in the sort of splendor that one could find only in New Orleans or Europe. Everything was carved, shiny, or glittering—from the dark wood floors to the massive fireplaces and the opulent crystal chandeliers.

We veered off to the right through a music room with a grand piano and multiple family portraits lining the walls.

He stopped at a set of glass double doors and gave a slight bow. “Ms. Carmichael is inside. My apologies, but I was not informed she had a date for the occasion. I’ll alert the kitchen. Do you have any food allergies or preferences?”

“As long as my drink has alcohol in it, I’m good.”

He smiled. “Very well, sir.”

I took a deep breath and did what I’d always done—faked it till I made it.

The wide room was brightly lit from the sun streaming through the glass walls and ceiling. Three long tables were laid out with service and large bouquets of white hydrangeas and pink roses. Several people congregated to the bar off to the left, and I strode over like I belonged.

“Kennedy?”

I looked up and saw my brother Wash leaning against the bar. I couldn’t stop my smile. Having two Granades in the same place meant I was on home turf.

“What are you doing here?” I shook his hand and pulled it in for a chest bump before ordering a mimosa with extra champagne.

Caroline, Wash’s girlfriend, sidled up to him, her blond hair and wicked curves marking her as one of the prettier women at the party. “I didn’t know you had an interest in the Junior League.” She smiled and gave me a hug, whispering in my ear, “It’s Scarlett, isn’t it?”

Pulling back, she grinned big as Wash pulled her into his side.

“I’ve always had an interest in Junior League.” I took a gulp of my drink and scanned the crowd. Scarlett spoke to a couple of young men at the corner of the bar. She must have seen me come in, because she was already glaring by the time my gaze made it to her eyes. It took a while—I gave her shapely legs, hourglass waist, and generous breasts plenty of attention before making eye contact.

Caroline squealed and got onto her tiptoes, whispering in Wash’s ear before nipping at it.

He growled and pulled her into his chest. “Are you trying to get me hard at a philanthropy meeting?”

Hearing Wash, my big brother who was nothing if not a hard-ass, talk to Caroline that way had me pulling at my collar. Awkward. “Get a room, you two.”

Caroline pecked Wash on the cheek and turned to face me. “Working with Terrell and me, helping the helpless, defending the defenseless—it just has him all riled up. You know how he gets.”

“I don’t. Thank God.” I laughed as she smiled and glanced over to Scarlett. “She’s a good one.”

I leaned closer to her. “How did you know?”

“Do you honestly think there are any secrets in this town?”

“I guess not?”