Mating Game

Nola Grainger needs a man...and fast. Her grandmother has left her everything in her will, with one small catch: Nola has to be married within a month. But if she's going to get married, she wants it to last. And for her, that means finding a man with as much passion as she has—who can take care of every desire, every day.

Nola finds three prime candidates: her high school sweetheart Billy, hard-dealing businessman Marc, and sexy handyman Tanner. Trying out three very different—and very desirable—men proves to be more fun than Nola imagined. But she never thought it might prove fatal.

Because someone in town is dead set against Nola sticking around. And with three new men in her bed, the danger might be closer than she thinks...

 He nodded. “I’ll try to stay out of your way. I’ll do the outside stuff first, and save the indoor projects for rainy days.”

His words were prosaic, but Nola flashed unexpectedly to a vision of the two of them tangled in sweaty sheets, breathing heavily in the aftermath of amazing sex as rain beat gently on the large windows of her bedroom.

Her knees actually went weak. She told herself it was hunger.

He turned and headed for the foyer. “I’ll go home and pack up some tools and clothes and things. I’ll be back before dark.”

She rummaged in a drawer. “Here. You should have a key. I might not be here when you get back. I have to make a run for major groceries and cleaning supplies.”

Her stomach growled loudly, right on cue.

He grinned, the first full-fledged smile he’d given her. “You want me to order some pizza and pick it up before I go?”

Wow. He had her heart beating faster already, but when he unleashed a genuine smile, he made her want to throw off her clothes and say, Take me, you fool.

She shook her head, trying to reclaim some shred of dignity. “Thanks, but I’ll get something in town.”

She grabbed her keys and purse, followed him out of the house, and locked the front door. His dusty white pick up truck was parked beside her rental. Before he climbed into the cab, she put her hand on his arm for a quick second to stop him.

He lifted a quizzical eyebrow, jingling his keys in his right hand. “Changed your mind about that pizza?”

She shook her head, feeling herself blush again like a silly teenager. “No. I just wanted to say thank you. I’m embarrassed that I blubbered all over a perfect stranger.”

That high-wattage smile returned. “Aw shucks, Nola. I’m not perfect.” He chuckled out loud. The sound snuck inside her chest and made her heart race. Good Lord, this man was potent stuff.

He reached out and rubbed a thumb across her cheekbone.

Her eyes went wide, and he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Just a little bit of mascara, Red. But you’re still one hell of a beautiful woman.”

The late afternoon sunshine bathed them in a soft glow. The sounds of mooing cows and singing birds and noisy lawnmowers faded into silence. The world stood still.

Tanner watched her, waiting for a sign, perhaps, that he hadn’t misread her mood.

She took a half step forward. Up close, he smelled of healthy male sweat and Irish Spring soap. Who knew such a combination would trigger all sorts of pheromones?

He made her feel dainty and feminine and wonderfully vulnerable in the best possible way. She took a deep breath and laid a hand on his chest. His heartbeat thundered beneath her fingertips. Strong, steady, dependable. He was warm and big and virile, and she knew in that instant that she had to add him to her list. Why the hell not.

She cleared her throat. “I don’t jump into bed with every man I meet.”

He must have heard the truculence in her voice, but he responded mildly. “I never thought you did.”

“And there’s no guarantee that I will with you.”

His eyes gleamed. “Duly noted.”

“You’re only here to fix my house.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The way he said it made her want to climb his bones right on the spot.

But she satisfied herself with a kiss. It was all up to her.

She went up on her tiptoes, barely reaching his chin. He didn’t say a word. He merely put his hands on her waist and lifted her with ease, setting her gently on the hood of his truck. That damn eyebrow of his went up again in a clear challenge.

She rested her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. Staring at his firm, full lips made her light headed. She wondered for a vague moment if Marc had turned her into a nymphomaniac.

But it was probably the urge to land a husband in less than three weeks that was making her fixate on erotic matters. Such a task was bound to drive a woman a little crazy.

She leaned into him, confident that he wouldn’t let her fall. Her lips found his and settled in to learn the contours of his sexy mouth. He tasted like butterscotch candy. That was oddly disarming. Feeling brave and more than a little turned on, she let her tongue slide between his lips and explore.

She’d awakened the tiger.

He made a noise deep in his throat and dragged her closer, one big hand supporting her head as he devoured her lips in a hungry kiss. It was heaven. In recent days she’d become accustomed to Marc’s smooth technique, his slow, teasing build to the big event.

But Tanner Nash skipped right from foreplay to total immersion. She whimpered when he nipped her bottom lip with his teeth, but she returned the favor. When he bent his head to nibble the upper slope of her breasts, she tunneled her fingers in his hair and stroked his ears… Sweat trickled down her cleavage, and she wasn’t sure if it was the Georgia heat and humidity, or the way Tanner surrounded her, enveloped her, dragged her into the fantasy of him and her… together, setting the woods on fire.

It might have been minutes or days before he released her. She rubbed a shaking hand across her mouth and adjusted her blouse. “Well, I…” Her words trailed off as her throat closed up.

Tanner kissed her forehead. “I’ve never kissed a redhead before. You pack quite a punch, Miss Nola Grainger.”

She was flattered in spite of the fact that he was probably feeding her a line he’d used a million times. A guy with his level of sexuality didn’t come by that expertise overnight. He knew women.

Again, she pondered the differences between Marc and Tanner Nash. They were both sexy, confident men. But that’s where the similarities ended. Marc thrived on the new and different. She was pretty sure Tanner was only interested in sex. His way. All day or all night.

It was a darned effective scheme to seduce a woman. Kama Sutra, be damned. Missionary sex with Tanner Nash might well be the most intense experience of her life. If she had the guts to go for it.