Betting on the Wrong Brother(7)

By: Cathryn Fox



“What?” he asked, and gathered up his duffle bag. “Where?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you there before it’s too late.” Guiding him to the male model pageant would make her later than she already was, but it was going to be so worth it. Getting him to parade around half naked on a stage in front of hundreds of women wasn’t just the most awesome revenge ever, the pictures she’d take home and distribute at the next high school reunion     would be the proverbial icing on the cake. She just wished she wasn’t so interested in licking that icing.

He slowed his steps. “I think you might have me mistaken for someone else.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, and don’t worry, I’m not like the wilder women at this convention. Groping the male models is not my thing. You’re safe in my hands.” She gave a wink and as he dug in his heels, she tugged harder, practically dragging him down the hall. Women passed, casting curious glances their way.

He stopped dead in his tracks and pulled his hand back. “Male what?”

If he was determined to keep his identity a secret, let him wiggle his way out of this one. “Male models, for the romance writers’ convention. You can stop pretending. I figured it out.”

He stared at her and she could almost hear the tumblers falling into place as he put it together. He frowned, went quiet for a moment, then nodded. “Right. Male model.”

And there you have it. Anything to protect his real identity.

She led him to the dressing room at the back of the stage. Men bustled about, some getting dressed, others grooming themselves in the full-length mirror. Many had tattoos, thick muscles, and piercings. While she hadn’t seen Nolan naked yet—wait, there wasn’t going to be a yet—she had felt his muscles when they were rolling around on the floor. She’d bet her next royalty check that none of these models had anything on him. He was going to win this one hands down. She looked for the director, and when he caught her eye, she pointed a finger at Nolan, or rather Ryan, if that’s what he wanted to go by.

“What are you doing?” Ryan asked.

“Calling over the director. You need to get changed and get on that stage.” She pointed to a blue curtain masquerading as a door.

“Andi, listen—”

Her phone pinged. Dammit. She wanted to stay for pictures, but needed to get to her meeting. “I guess I’ll see you around.” She left him standing there scratching his head as she rushed out the door. If she hurried to the meeting with her editor, she could still be back in time to catch him parading around in some skimpy outfit. Her grin widened, and she gave herself a mental fist pump. Tonight would go down in history, because this week, what happened in Vegas definitely wasn’t going to stay in Vegas.





Chapter Two

What the hell was that?

One minute he’d been laying on the floor with a sexy woman bouncing on top of him, the next he was shoved into some room with a dozen or so half naked men getting ready for a male modeling contest. A beauty pageant, for Christ’s sakes. Him. Self-proclaimed bachelor for life, and horror writer Parker Perry, otherwise knows as Jack Ryan Grayson Wheeler, here to do research on the hotel’s haunting. Did she really expect him to parade his stuff on a stage?

Oh, hell no.

He watched Andi give a little triumphant shake of her ass as she sauntered out of the room and make a beeline for the stairs. Why did he get the feeling she knew he wasn’t a model and was fucking with him? Payback for pressing her down on him when he’d gotten an erection, perhaps? Honestly, what the hell did she expect? She was one of the sexiest women he’d ever set eyes on, even in those big underwear that could double as a bra, and maybe even more because of it.

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