by Jordan, Skye
“Your father is loaded. Why didn’t he pay for college?”
“I didn’t want him to. I really wanted to make it on my own. The way you always have. That’s another reason I didn’t move to Switzerland with them. Plus, his wife never warmed up to me—unless she needed a babysitter for the younger kids, who were, for the most part, the spawn of Satan.”
This was all news to Miranda. Gypsy never complained during those short, infrequent visits in their youth. Gypsy’s and Dylan’s fathers would only allow the kids to see their mother when she was clean and sober. Since those bouts were few and far between, the three kids never spent much time together.
“I admit, I had a very single-minded outlook on life when you needed me,” Gypsy said, “and I didn’t feel like I could give up the time Mom required without screwing up my classes. But, if I could go back, I would have taken a semester off school and come to ease your burden a little. I would have been there for the funeral.”
The apology felt awkward to Miranda, the words bouncing off her instead of sinking in. She knew that was from years of keeping her barriers locked in place to deflect the hurt her family always seemed to bring.
“When I told you I came because I wanted to be closer to you, I meant it,” Gypsy said. “This isn’t just a visit. I came to stay. To rebuild what we had when we were young. To make up for at least some of the time we lost.”
So far, Gypsy was being honest, as far as Miranda could tell. But her earlier lies had Miranda on edge, second-guessing everything her sister said. Maybe she’d simply had an ah-ha moment in her life. An occurrence that showed Gypsy how much life she was missing without her family. Or maybe someone had tried to give her a dose of reality similar to the one Marty had given Miranda.
“There’s a lot of water under the bridge, Gypsy. To be honest, I’ve built up a lot of resentment over the years. That’s not all going to crumble away tomorrow.”
“I get that. I held a lot of resentment toward my Dad for moving overseas. Toward his wife for hating me, and, sometimes, even their kids for getting the family I didn’t. I know it takes time to work things out in your head and let the anger go. I don’t expect that overnight either. That’s why I’m staying, not visiting. I’m serious about this, Miranda. You’re my family. You’re important to me.”
Miranda couldn’t pinpoint why this turn of events made her so uneasy. She felt as if Gypsy’s words hoisted a boulder above her head, one that could drop and crush her without warning.
“And I don’t expect you to house and feed me,” Gypsy continued. “I’ll find my own place. Make my own life. I guess I just need to know you’re willing to work on things with me. If you hate me or if you’re dead set against being my sister, I’ll make another plan. But I really want to stay. And I really want us to be friends.”
Friends. Family. The whole subject brought on a mild anxiety attack.
Miranda took a deep breath and focused somewhere beyond Gypsy. Coworkers made their way to their vehicles in groups of twos and threes and yelled goodbyes to Miranda across the parking lot.
“I’m used to being alone,” Miranda said. “And I was always more of a mom to you and Dylan than a sister. Then I lost you both so young… It changed me. I’m not sure I even know how to be a sister, and I don’t seem to be good at having friends either.”
Miranda paused, looked away, looked back. God, she wanted to tell Gypsy “no.” Send her away. Crawl back into her safe, small life. But Marty’s words kept replaying in her head.
She looked down and scuffed the ground with her boot. “I guess we can give it a try.”
Not exactly enthusiastic, but there it was.
“Yeah?” Gypsy seemed cautious as well, and that gave Miranda a little more confidence. Confidence that Gypsy would take this relationship seriously. That she understood the stakes of trying to mend their family.
Miranda gave a nod.
Gypsy smiled. “Okay.”
“If you’re going to be hanging around, you’ll need a job. I doubt you’ll have any trouble finding one in your field, but I could get you some shifts at the bar. It’ll give you pocket money until you find something better.”
“That would be great. I could use the cash, and I wouldn’t mind seeing how things operate firsthand. Might give me more insight to share with Marty.”
“I’m working tonight,” she told Gypsy as she rounded the truck to the driver’s side. “I’ll have the manager put you on the schedule.”
13
Miranda clutched the necks of four beers between the fingers of each hand and thrust them overhead as she pushed through the door between the storage room and the bar.
“We just got a shipment!” she yelled over the music.
A rousing cheer rolled across the space, and Miranda popped the tops and slid the anticipated new IPA from a local brewery to customers down the bar.
The front door opened, and Miranda cut a glance that direction, secretly hoping to find Jack there. But she was disappointed. Again. Earlier in the week, he’d said he was going to try to be back by the weekend. But it was already ten p.m. without any word from him.
She reminded herself it was only Friday and forced her mind back to her work.
The bar wasn’t all that crowded tonight. One of the bartenders should probably go home, but like she’d told Marty, this was her happy time. Her fun in lieu of a real life. So she took the opportunity to catch up with the regulars.
Zeke and Leroy were always prime entertainment. They worked for the same IT company nearby, Zeke in human resources, Leroy in management. Tonight their snark was directed at a file folder overflowing with résumés.
“I’m adept in all office management software,” Zeke read from one résumé.
“Which translates to,” Leroy said, “I’ve used Microsoft Office.”
Zeke pulled another résumé and looked it over. “I’m adaptable?”
Leroy scoffed. “He’s had a dozen jobs in as many months.”
“I’m highly motivated to succeed,” Zeke read.
“The minute I get a better offer,” Leroy said, “I’m out of here.”
Miranda laughed out loud.
“I’m extremely professional,” Zeke said.
Leroy tossed a pretzel in his mouth. “He probably carries a fuckin’ Day-Timer.”
Back and forth, back and forth, they tore apart the résumés, making Miranda grateful she wasn’t looking for a job.
“Miranda.”
She turned just as Travis Mills pushed through the swinging door separating the customers from the bartenders. He was smiling like a maniac, laughing as he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her off her feet, and spun her in a circle.
“Travis, what in the hell?”
Still holding her off the floor, he leaned back and grinned up at her. “I got the job.”
She’d forgotten all about the reference she’d given him for an entry-level welding job with a pipe-fitting company. “That’s fantastic.” She gave him a hug, then said, “Travis, put me down.”
He immediately obeyed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m just, God, so excited.” He wrapped her in another bear hug. “Your reference made all the difference.”
This was a one-hundred-eighty-degree change from the guy who’d lost his job three months earlier.
“I’m so happy for you.” She gave him a playful push. “Now get out from behind my bar.”
Travis slapped a few high fives to other guys as he made his way to the customer’s side of the bar. Miranda knew exactly how it felt to be at a dead end. She also knew how it felt to have someone believe in you enough to give you that little boost to push you ahead and score a job. Marty had done it for her, and she was thrilled she’d been able to do that for someone else.
She was still smiling at Travis’s enthusiasm as he made the rounds, sharing his joy with friends. Miranda’s gaze floated past his shoulder and held on someone standing near the doors. He stood out because he was still in an ocean of
moving customers.
Jack.
Her stomach lifted and her heart gave an extra hard beat. She smiled before his expression registered. A mix of shell shock and confusion with an edge of it-fucking-figures. She realized he’d just witnessed Travis’s gratitude and saw it as something completely different. By the time Miranda moved around the front of the bar, Jack was gone.
She plowed through the customers and hit the metal bar on the front door, pushing into the night. She caught sight of his back as he headed down the street toward his hotel.
Miranda ran fifty yards before calling, “Hey, New York.”
He stopped. Miranda did too, not knowing what to expect. His shoulders fell and his head dropped back in a classic fuck-me posture.
Her heart beat in her ears. She was having trouble catching her breath.
Slowly, he turned, and she found his expression shuttered. “Hey, Nashville.”
She exhaled hard. A wave of desire hit her from out of nowhere. A craving she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt before. Despite the clear warning message in his tone, in his expression, she was drawn toward him. A force that felt out of her control.
By the time she stood ten feet away, she saw a lot more. Disappointment, resignation, frustration. Miranda shoved her hands in her back pockets. “I didn’t know you’d be back tonight.”
“I wanted to surprise you.” He looked away, muttering, “That worked out well.”
“I didn’t figure you for the jealous type.” She crossed her arms, caught between getting pissed at him and throwing herself at him. “But I guess I should have known. Only an alpha could have so completely owned me in bed.”
A familiar hunger flared in his eyes. A good sign, right?
She took a few steps closer and lifted her chin toward the bar. “You know, that wasn’t anything.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he said, his voice way too businesslike. “You were clear with me from the beginning.”
He didn’t walk away, so she chanced a few steps closer. Close enough to reach out and touch him. “Then why do you look so…”—hurt, crushed, heartbroken— “pissed?”
He sighed and looked at the sky. “Because I should have listened when you said no attachments.”
All her nerves rose to the surface of her skin, and she couldn’t hold still. She was about to step out onto a ledge. One she hoped he’d pull her in from. “I’m glad you didn’t listen.”
The words came out weak, tentative. Nothing like the woman she tried so hard to be. But now that she was out here…
“I’ve been looking at the door since I got to work, expecting you to walk in even though I didn’t know when you’d get into town. You never texted me back.” She scraped her lower lip between her teeth. Butterfly wings fluttered beneath her ribs. “Travis—” She couldn’t believe she was about to justify herself—to a guy. But she just kept hearing Marty’s disappointment that she wasn’t stretching for what she really wanted or what really made her happy. And Jack made her happy. “He got a job I recommended him for. He’s just a nice guy. A friend. There’s nothing—”
Jack closed the distance, his one step quick and purposeful. Miranda dropped her arms and leaned away. Instead of lashing out in anger, he cupped her face and searched her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I just—”
She exhaled in a rush of relief. “I know.” She covered his hands with hers. “This…it…scares me.”
He lowered his head and kissed her. The press of his lips sent a sweep of relief through her, loosening the knots in her stomach. Miranda wrapped her arms around his waist, leaned in, and opened to him.
He responded instantly, tasting her. Moaning into her mouth. Slipping a hand under her hair and clasping her neck, locking the other arm around her waist. A possessive hold, but one that made her feel safe.
He broke the kiss unexpectedly, leaving her dizzy. “Still scared?”
She laughed. “Only about getting you back to the hotel before I tear your clothes off.”
14
Jack felt like he’d been infused with helium. He barely felt the ground beneath his feet as he and Miranda half walked, half ran to the hotel. Holding hands. Stopping to kiss each other breathless.
She called work to tell them she wouldn’t be coming back tonight. There was no small talk, no more apologies, just the two of them wanting each other so badly, they couldn’t think about anything else.
This was so unlike anything he’d ever experienced. This frenzied need for each other. This heady sensation of euphoria. This wild possibility of finding that one in a million who wanted exactly what you wanted with the same intensity.
They stumbled through the hotel’s entrance like a couple of drunk teenagers, started undressing each other while they were still in the elevator. By the time he opened the hotel room door, Jack was on fire and Miranda was his only remedy.
She fell onto the sectional sofa and fisted Jack’s shirt to take him with her. He hauled her jeans and panties down her legs, then swore when her boots interfered. Miranda laughed, a shaky, breathless giggle. He didn’t bother getting his pants all the way off before sinking between her spread thighs and deep into her body.
Miranda’s back arched, and their voices blended with sounds of pleasure. She was wet and hot, and the all-encompassing feel of her shorted-out Jack’s brain. He was running on adrenaline and instinct, moving in ways that made Miranda gasp and arch and dig her fingernails into his ass.
In mere minutes, she rose to climax with a cry, back curved off the sofa. Her warm juices coated his cock and nearly took him over the edge. Nearly. But the sensation also reminded him he couldn’t. Not yet. He just couldn’t figure out why. It took an eternal moment fighting for clarity before his mind kicked in.
“Fuck.” He dropped his forehead to her shoulder.
“What?” She was panting, sweating, shivering.
“Condoms. I don’t have any.”
Her eyes closed. “Fuck.”
“I meant to pick some up, but I got sidetracked by family and work…”
Then she opened her eyes to the ceiling. “Little late now.” Her gaze returned to his. “I’m on the pill. And I haven’t slept with anyone in…God, months.”
His fragmented mind fought to put enough cells together to understand what she was telling him. “Me either.”
Her fingers dug into his ass and pulled him deep. “Then don’t you dare stop.”
He laughed, a guttural sound of pure pleasure. Despite his body’s screams for urgency, Jack used his mind to grab on to his slipping control. He sank his hands into the soft, shiny strands of her hair and propped himself up on his forearms. Embedded deep inside her, he kept his lower body still as he kissed her face, her neck, her ear, before returning to her mouth. He teased her tongue, nipped at her lips.
As soon as she caught her breath, Miranda was moving beneath him, her gaze holding his. Jack experienced an intense, profound connection. As strong as it had been when he’d left at the beginning of the week.
“God, Jack—” Her words broke off as she arched. The raw ecstasy on her face pumped a thrill through him. He wanted more. So many more of those erotic expressions drenching her beautiful face.
And he set to work dragging them out of her, one by glorious one, while he watched with a front row seat. The drunken look in her eyes. The pleasure ripping through her body. The glisten of sweat building on her skin. And finally, the sheer exhaustion in her features. Only then did he release the reins and let himself go, in deep, hard, quick thrusts.
When he broke, Jack flew. Stars flashed behind closed eyelids until his brain went white with pleasure so intense, he lost himself in the waves.
His arms finally gave, and he let his chest rest on Miranda’s. And as he floated back to earth, he was more than a little worried his heart might never forget this woman. Considering their living situations and her aversion to commitment, that posed a very real problem.
Miranda threaded her fing
ers through his hair. Let her fingernails graze the length of his spine. Rubbed her flat hands over the scores she’d created in his ass. Jack turned his head and pressed his face against the hollow of her throat.
“We are mind-blowing together.” The words traveled from his mind right out of his mouth.
Miranda wrapped her arms around him and squeezed hard, kissing his neck.
Jack’s heart opened in a way he couldn’t ever remember happening before. He wanted this. All of this. With an all-encompassing passion.
“You’re getting heavy.” Her words came out on a wheeze and made Jack laugh so hard, he almost crushed her trying to roll to his back.
Miranda rolled with him, snuggling close, arm across his chest, leg between his thighs, hand in his hair.
Jack closed his eyes and pulled her close with an arm around her shoulders. He kissed her head. “I know this is happening fast, but…” His gut fluttered with nerves. He’d been burned so many times, he couldn’t believe he was right there, ready to jump into the flames again. “I’m fucking crazy about you.”
She laughed softly, stroked her hand down his chest and belly. “Incredible sex’ll warp your brain.”
“I’m serious.”
She looked up at him. “You don’t even know me.”
“You can discover more about a person in an hour of play than a year of conversation.”
“That sounds suspiciously like a quote.”
“Plato.”
She laughed. A few moments of silence lingered while they both caught their breath.
“How was your trip?” she asked.
“Good. We got everything worked out. I shouldn’t have to go out to that project again for a while. How are things on your home front?”
Miranda groaned. “Gypsy has decided to stay.”
Jack had to admit, he thought this was a good thing. A very good thing. If Miranda could start letting her family in, he held out hope that she could eventually let him in. “That doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”