Page 35 of Last on the List
“Hi, Crazy, I’m Dakota. It’s nice to meet you.” Dakota holds her hand out for me to shake, and I smack it away. She sighs heavily. “Honestly, Cozy, I don’t even understand this side of you. Our whole lives, you’ve never been insecure. It’s the thing I admire most about you. Not your freakishly smart brain that seems to be both analytical and creative, not even your insane ability to make a stunning charcuterie board, or the fact that you know how to show sheep because of the years you spent in 4-H. It’s your strikingly effortless confidence that gets my panties wet.”
I pause before putting an olive into my mouth. “That was a bit too specific.”
“Well, it’s the truth,” she huffs indignantly. “You’re hot, but your confidence makes you a total catch. Which is why I’m struggling to get past the comment you made about being ‘too fat’ for Max Fletcher!”
“Would you keep your voice down,” I hiss, leaning across the table to shoot daggers at her. It took a lot for me to admit that insecure thought but hearing her say it back to me fills me with regret.
My stomach sinks as I prepare to reveal the dark truth that I haven’t shared with my questionable best friend tonight. The truth that’s been living rent free in my mind all day long.
“It’s not just the physical aspect.” I blow a slow breath out of my mouth and continue, “It’s the fact that Max is a multimillionaire with a successful company. He has a gorgeous home, a sweet daughter, an ex-wife who, by all accounts, he gets along well with. He has his life together, and here I am, a twenty-six-year-old nanny who just moved out of my sister’s spare bedroom into a tiny house on his property that is nicer than anything I’ve ever lived in before. I have absolutely nothing to offer him. It’s no wonder he took a second look at me and ran for the hills.”
Dakota’s features soften. “Need I remind you that your circumstances are by choice right now?”
“I know that.” I groan and push my hands into my hair. “But he doesn’t.”
“So then tell him,” she presses.
“Absolutely not. If he’s going to be a shallow asshole who won’t sleep with a girl because he thinks she’s beneath his station like we’re in the middle of some Regency romance novel, then fuck him.”
Dakota laughs. “Regency romance couldn’t handle the likes of Cozy Barlow.”
“And those corsets can go to hell.” I pop another olive into my mouth, and we both giggle like schoolgirls. It feels good. It’s the first time I’ve cracked a smile in twenty-four hours. And I love to smile.
A thoughtful look crosses Dakota’s face. “If you ask me, this has nothing to do with your body, your looks, or your current career choice. I think this has to do with his position over top of you and him not wanting to take advantage of you.”
“I want him to take advantage of me!” I exclaim as her words elicit a graphic image of Max over top of me, causing heat to pool in my belly. “I want him to finish what he started. I want to scratch this itch, so he can stop consuming my thoughts day and night. If we hooked up just once, then maybe I could go five freaking minutes without thinking about how he looks in his swim trunks or now…a wet fucking T-shirt.”
“Yeah, I’d pay to see that.” Dakota’s eyes flare with heat before she shakes that image away. She eyes me over her cocktail as she takes a sip. “So are you saying you’d be up for a one-night stand with a millionaire?”
“Yeah, who wouldn’t be?” I reply with a laugh. “Trust me, I’m not looking to become Everly’s new mommy. And I certainly don’t want to be a second wife to the corporate grind. Not to mention, I need to get my life together long before I could ever seriously date anyone, let alone a single dad. But CEO Max is clearly not up for sex with a nanny.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” She presses her fingers to her lips, clearly deep in thought.
I roll my eyes. “What is running through that hamster wheel of a brain you have?”
She quirks a challenging brow and props her elbows on the table. “Just that men are essentially cavemen who learned how to dress. And what do cavemen do?” She sits back and smirks. “They hunt.”
I chew my lower lip nervously, knowing that I shouldn’t encourage Dakota because when she puts her mind to something, she often succeeds. But I can’t help the question that tumbles out of my mouth. “So what does that mean for me?”
“It means you need to make them chase you a bit before you write him off for good.” She winks coyly. “Because I have a feeling he’s the kind of guy who goes after what he wants.”
I shake my head and press my fingers to my temples. This is a bad, bad idea. I am not as skilled at playing men like Dakota is. “Should I even want something to happen between us? I mean…he is my boss and I love Everly.”
“So what! You’re both mature-ish consenting adults.” She waves her cocktail to the server who’s passing by, indicating we need another round. She turns back to me, not missing a beat. “Since you’ve already crossed the line, you might as well make it to the finish line. A fling with a millionaire sounds like the perfect Great Defrost life experience for Cozy Cassie.”
Butterflies erupt in my belly at just the idea of this happening. It’s been so long since I’ve had some good, mind-blowing sex.
In the past, I never made much time for men. My studies were my main priority in high school, and then after that, a job took over my whole life. Sure, I had the odd boyfriends, but they never lasted more than a few months. I was usually too mentally exhausted to give the relationship any sort of attention. When I was home, I was in sloth mode, so the idea of a booty call or a late-night hookup was the last thing on my mind.
With Max, it’s a completely different story, and I am a completely different person. I’m someone who wants to make time for carnal pleasures. And something tells me that Max would be very good at delivering on that.
“How do I make him chase me exactly?” I ask, cringing inwardly because I can’t believe I’m entertaining this idea.
“Look, it’s not rocket science,” Dakota laughs, noticing my anxiety-ridden face. “But a hot Zaddy like Max probably has women throwing themselves at him every single day.”
A pang of jealousy over that thought hits me out of nowhere so I quicky chug down the last of my cocktail.
“So if you want him to come to you, you need to be aloof. Hard to get. Unapproachable. You need him practically panting for your attention, wondering what’s going on in that pretty, dark-haired, green-eyed, pouty lipped little head of yours.”
