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What You Need(38)



“Well. That is . . . promising. You should bring her for brunch. I’ll cook.”

“I’m not bringing her home after one date, Mom. Especially not after you were partially responsible for that fiasco with Siobhan.”

“Maggie had her own agenda, of which I did not want to be a party with.”

“A party to,” I corrected without thinking.

“Whatever. So where did you meet this mystery date?”

I laughed. “Nice try. I have to go. I’ll talk to you this week.”

“You better. Jag älskar dig.”

“Love you too.”

I put my car in gear and headed home.

*

I’m always early. I ended up driving around the block four times before I pulled up in front of Lennox’s house.

Lennox must’ve been anxious, because she opened the door immediately after I knocked.

Not that I could even say hello when I got my first look at her.

She wore a leather skirt the color of cabernet with a sleeveless black silk shirt that dipped low, and the fabric moved sinuously across her chest. Her lips were dark red, her eye makeup smoky, her blond hair half up/half down.

No trace remained of the Stepford secretary.

I was looking at the ultimate bad girl, prepped and ready for a wild night out.

My gaze met hers but I still couldn’t speak.

“Hang on one second. I need to grab my purse.”

When she spun around, I had to brace myself in the doorframe to keep from falling over. Her shirt was backless, except for thin silver chains that held the material on the front in strategic places. And she had more tattoos back there, with one that looked like a Celtic knot—a tramp stamp—above the low-hanging waistband of her skirt. And that ass. Although I was a mathematician, the perfection of her ass practically inspired me to write a sonnet where I described every beautiful curve and how my hands and mouth would feel worshipping every inch.

When she whirled around and caught me looking with a feral expression of lust, she smirked. “I take it my club attire meets with your approval, Mr. Lund.”

“You are beyond stunning, Miss Greene.”

“Thank you. You don’t clean up too badly yourself.” Then her gaze wandered over me, taking in the lightweight black cashmere V-neck sweater and gray jeans, ending at the black loafers. When her gaze met mine again, she didn’t bother to bank the heat in her eyes. “Casual suits you.”

“Thank you.”

“But not as well as a suit suits you.” She grinned and snagged a shiny black coat off the newel post.

“May I?” I said, and took it from her hands to help her put it on.

She murmured her thanks again and faced me. Those hazel eyes of hers were hotly assessing. “I feel the need to warn you that we won’t be going at it on those stairs like you mentioned earlier today.”

“Seems a shame, but I’ll survive.” We stepped outside and she locked the door. “Although I did cancel plans with my family tomorrow just in case you and I ended up naked, sated and lazing in bed together in the morning.”

Lennox whirled around. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“Of course I’m joking. About the naked part. I did cancel family plans and I did blame it on our date. But I had an ulterior motive, covering for my sister who wanted me to be the first one to back out.”

“So she wouldn’t feel guilty canceling after you did?”

“Exactly. Now I’ll just have to deal with my brother Walker being pissed he’ll be the lone Lund child in attendance.” I opened her car door and closed it after she climbed in. Then I got in and hit start on the GPS.

“Is your family get-together a weekly thing?” she asked.

“During football season? Yes, when Jensen has away games. If he’s home, then we’re in the dome cheering him on. ‘We’ meaning the entire Lund family—cousins, uncles, aunts . . .”

When she reached down to set her purse on the floor, her hair brushed against my wrist and my fist clenched voluntarily.

“I’ll bet there’s a ton of pride in your family for Jensen making it to the pros and the Vikings in particular. Hometown boy makes good and all that.”

“He’s living his dream. It’s been great to watch him play and improve over the years. But yes, our mother would still demand nightly family dinners if she had her way.”

“I see pictures of your mother all over the place. I’ve seen her at LI a few times. She’s very beautiful.”

I smiled. “That she is. Drives my poor father crazy that Annika looks just like her. He would’ve preferred to lock her in her princess bedroom until she turned thirty because, in addition to looking like our mother, she has that same fire and stubbornness.”