Free The Tycoon Meets His Match by Barbara Benedict

budging. “It’s the least you can do after pushing him in.”
    Rhys watched the kid struggle with indecision until the need for Trae’s approval won out. “For you, Red, only for you. Come upstairs, man, and we’ll see what we can find you.”
    “You own this house?” Rhys asked, unable to believe this could be the “rich dude” they’d been looking for.
    Josh made a face. “I’m in high school, man. Where would I get the money for a house like this? It’s my old man’s place.”
    His old man? Even better. Finally, someone who could provide useful information. “Where is your father?” Rhys asked brusquely. “I need to talk to him.”
    “What for?” Every freckle on Josh’s face paled as he vehemently shook his head. “No way, dude, I’m not giving you his number. He’ll freak if he hears I’m having a party while he’s away. I’ll get grounded for a month.”
    So much for appealing to a sane, responsible adult.
    “Look, I’m sorry I pushed you in.” The kid was reduced to pleading. “Forget my old man and I swear, you can have anything in my closet.”
    Rhys shuddered as he considered the probable wardrobe choices. Still, Trae was right, he couldn’t go traipsing around looking like a drowned rat. “Fine, lead on,” he told Josh, sparing a backward glance at Trae as they headed toward the house.
    She was grinning. “Pick out something sexy,” she called after them.
    Rhys didn’t bother to grace that one with an answer.

    Not exactly sexy, Trae thought when Rhys later returned in baggy board shorts, a pale-blue Surfrider T-shirt and flip-flops, but somehow, the casual clothes seemed to soften him, make him more approachable. As if they could sit down and talk, and maybe even find something on which they could finally agree.
    She flashed back to the moment he’d held her in the pool. He’d surprised her by pulling her in, then caught her doubly off guard by the strength with which he’d not only yanked her out of the water but kept them both afloat. Gazing into his intense blue eyes, she’d been struck by the uncomfortable possibility that there could be a good deal more to this man than she’d ever suspected.
    Staring at him now as he walked up to her, she found herself wondering if the guy might indeed have some potential.
    Until he opened his mouth.
    “I feel ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath. “Hook me up with a surfboard and a Twinkie, and I, too, can get grounded for a month.”
    “Careful, he’ll hear you.” Dimpling at his words, she nodded behind her to where Josh was turning on the charm for a bevy of lovely young ladies. “Want him taking back his clothes?”
    He scowled at Lucie’s pink running suit. “You certainly look warm enough. How many outfits do you have stuffed in that backpack?”
    Ignoring him, she held up the black plastic trash bag Josh had given her. “Here, put your damp stuff in this.”
    He started to put his suit in the bag, then hesitated.
    “If you’re reluctant to mix your stuff with mine, it’s too late. I already put your jacket and shoes in first.”
    “No, that’s not it,” he said distractedly as he dug through the pockets of his pants. “I wanted to pay your pal for his clothes but I can’t find my wallet.” He dug in the bag, pulling out the jacket and searching it as well. “It’s not in here.”
    “It has to be.” Men. If she had a nickel for every time her brothers couldn’t find something that was staring them in the face, she could die a rich woman. “Here, let me check,” she said, grabbing the clothes from him.
    But after turning every pocket inside out, she had to agree. “It’s not here.”
    “Didn’t I just say that?”
    “Don’t get smart. Go back upstairs and look around the room where you changed. It must be there. And just in case it’s not, I’ll check the pool.”
    “Who died and left you boss?”
    Hearing him use her own taunt against her, she had a sudden, infantile urge to stick out