“Whatever you want, just don’t let her know I’m in here.”
She wasn’t entirely sure why she was so panicked about Lydia discovering her in Jeb’s room. The woman would be thrilled, over-the-moon, about it happening.
“You and Jeb would be so cute together,” Lydia had once said. “Then we could be sister-in-laws and life would be complete.”
But it wasn’t necessarily that easy. Just because Jeb had allowed her to fall asleep in his bed—had taken pity on her fear of storms—didn’t mean he wanted anything else with her. If he had, they would have gotten together after everything had settled down with the whole Mia thing.
Of course, she wasn’t about to get her hopes up. That was a stupid thing to do.
“All right, Ags. You ready?” He asked, cracking the door open an inch or so.
Lydia was knocking on her door, talking about sunny days and crispy bacon. Gods, how were they going to pull this off?
She nodded quickly, making sure she stayed out of view.
“Okay. Here goes.” Pulling the door open, he quickly stepped into the hallway.
A few seconds later, she heard a thump and a horrific wail of pain.
“Oh my god!” Lydia cried. “What’s wrong?”
“I just smacked my freaking toe against the door; I think I broke it.”
Wow, he sounds convincing.
Tiptoeing towards the door, she carefully peered through the crack between the hinges and caught sight of him hopping up and down on one foot.
The expletives leaving his mouth would have made any sailor proud—she was certain of it.
“Oh my god! OH MY GOD!” Lydia wailed, her eyes nearly popping out of her head. “What can I do to help, Jeb? Tell me what to do!”
“I don’t know what you can do, Lydia. It’s a freaking broken toe. Doctors don’t do things for those.”
“Okay. Okay. Okay!” She wrapped an arm around him. “Lean against me. I’ll help you back into your room and—”
“NO!” He bellowed, pausing for a moment. “No, I don’t want to go back to my room. I...I need to go downstairs. Ice. Yeah, I need ice.”
“Right. Ice.” Lydia nodded firmly and glanced down the hallway. “But...how will you make it down the stairs? Callum just left to pick up some volunteers to help with stuff today. Oh, Jeb. Of all the days to break your toe!”
“It’s not like I meant for it to happen, Lyds. Oh my god.” He was breathing like a woman in labor as he doubled over. With his head bent and his shoulders moving up and down with each heavy breath, he began muttering curse words again.
And that’s when she finally realized he was not going for the performance-of-the-year.
“I’ll call Callum,” Lydia offered, patting his back gently. “Ags! I need you!”
Aw, crap.
It seemed Jeb’s sacrifice would be one in vain, and that made her feel terrible.
“We’ll be in the kitchen, okay? Come down as quick as you can. Come on, Jebby. Let’s get you some ice.”
It took them a few minutes to make it all the way down the hallway, and when they disappeared from sight, she finally exited the bedroom. She felt horrible about it, really—to know it was her fault Jeb had really gotten hurt. He was trying to help her out of a silly situation and she’d put him in a worse one.
“He must hate me now,” she whispered, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth.
What a fantastic way to ruin the wonderful start she’d had to her day.
Chapter 4
Jeb
He had done a lot of things for the girls he cared about in his lifetime, but never had he gone as far as breaking a bone.
And it was a fickle bone at that.
In his mind, though, Ags was totally worth the pain.
Lydia had given him the day off from helping rebuild the town and gave him strict orders to stay on the sofa with his foot propped up. But, in usual Jeb fashion, he’d hobbled out to the wraparound porch and made himself at home on the swing.
He had never really been one for being cooped up inside—Lydia should have known that by now. Keeping him in one room was hard enough, but to expect him to stay inside all day long? She must have been insane.
It was a pretty day anyway, and who could resist a warm breeze and the smell of honeysuckles?
Not him.
Lydia and Callum had long since departed to join Laney, Benji, and Mr. Reynolds on their next mission. Ags had stayed behind, too, but he hadn’t seen her in a few hours. He figured she was keeping her distance because she felt bad about his toe, and if that was the case, she was being silly.
He wasn’t mad at her. It wasn’t her fault—McIntosh men had a long history of being clumsy and accident-prone. The way he saw it, he was long overdue for a new injury anyway.
But he still wished she’d come out of hiding. Being alone on a beautiful day wasn’t any fun.
And somehow, it seemed, someone above was listening.
“Hey, Jeb.” Pushing open the screen door, she stepped outside. “Do you mind if I join you?”
His eyes swept over her and a grin spread across his lips. He was fairly certain she was trying to kill him. Those overall shorts and the tank top beneath them were making something besides his toe throb.
Grinning as honorably as possible, he patted the cushion beside him. “Not at all. Come take a seat, Aggie.”
“Thanks.”
He tried to keep as cool as possible, or at least appear that way, even though his stomach was erupting in a fit of flutters and nerves. Having her so close by made the hairs on his arms stand up and every part of his body became aware of her. It must have been human science, he figured, because Callum had always said Lydia made him feel the same way.
Gross. I don’t want to think about that.
No, he wasn’t a fan of knowing about his sisters’ love lives, yet he always found himself in the loop, somehow.
He also knew they’d get a kick out of knowing how he behaved around Ags when they were alone, which wasn’t often.
Ags was a good person. She was one of the most decent he’d ever met; he was stupid to let her slip through his fingertips.
But what could he do about it now?
Maybe I can do something to change her mind...
“Ags, I—”
“Jeb, I—”
They laughed nervously and fell silent. It wasn’t the first time they’d begun talking at the same time.
And he hoped it wouldn’t be the last.
“Go ahead,” she finally said, her voice soft and sweet.
“Sorry about that.” Clearing his throat, he rubbed at the back of his neck and finally chanced a look in her direction. She was smiling like an angel and it made his heart pound. “I, uh, I just wanted to say that I don’t want you to feel bad about my toe. I’ll live.”
“Yeah, about that.” She giggled and ducked her head briefly, a blush appearing on her cheeks.
It was the cutest damn thing.
“I really am sorry. I feel awful about it. Are you in a lot of pain?”
“It hurts, but it’s tolerable. There ain’t much a doctor can do for a broken toe.”
“I know, but I still feel bad. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Oh, there were about twenty things she could do to help, and they were playing out in his imagination as he slid his tongue over his lips. She didn’t know it—and no one did, really—but every fantasy he had involved her, every night.
But now was not the time or the place to be thinking like that.
Behave, the voice in his mind warned. She’s trying to be nice.
“...So I can totally give you one if you want it.”
He’d been so lost in his less-than-honorable thoughts that he hadn’t been paying a bit of attention to what she was actually saying. Like a deer caught in headlights, he froze, eyes wide, and stared at her.
“Jeb?” Her beautiful eyes didn’t move away from his, but the nervous smile upon her lips told him he
r question had been an important one.
That’s what I get for not listening.
“I’m sorry, Ags. Can you repeat that?”
“Oh, um, okay.” Clearing her throat, she crossed one leg over the other and twisted her upper body until they were facing one another. “I said I could give you a massage if you wanted one. You know, to make up for making you break your toe.”
“First off, you didn’t make me do anything. I was trying to help you,”—he chuckled—“and secondly, as much as I’d enjoy those magical hands of yours, I don’t think you want to waste your afternoon rubbing down a clumsy ox.”
But the idea did sound nice. It sounded so nice, in fact, that his pants began to feel a little too tight. The last thing he wanted was for her to get started with a seemingly innocent massage and have a run-in with his dick.
God. No. He couldn’t let that happen.
“Oh, come on. I don’t mind at all!” She patted his knee gently and hopped up from the swing, biting at her lip as she smiled. “Let me do this for you. Pleeeeeeaaaaase?”
“Ags...”
“Jebson...”
He knew it was an argument he wasn’t going to win—and he felt insanely stupid for trying to decline such a heavenly offer. She was the star of his fantasies...so why wouldn’t he want to feel her hands on him?
For the first time in nearly ten years, he worried about finishing the party too soon. What if he came while she was touching him without actually touching him? How the hell would he explain that?
I’ll never be able to face her again.
“Come on!”
Two small, cold hands grabbed both of his and pulled hard, and he could have fought her off if he really wanted to...
But he didn’t want to at all.
“All right, all right,” he mumbled, grinning. “Just give me a second to get up, will ya?”
His feet may have been having a hard time standing, but there was another part of him that sure as hell wasn’t having any trouble.
Think about terrible things, his mind told him. Think about Mia. Naked.
Gross. He didn’t want to think about that loon. The only thing he wanted to think about—and did think about—was grunting and pulling on his hands, as if that actually made a difference.
“You’re going to throw your back out trying to pull at me like that,” he warned, finally standing from the swing. “You’re like a little Chihuahua trying to pull a St. Bernard up a hill; it’s hilarious.”
“Hey now, don’t underestimate me. I’ve been working out with Lydia and Laney at the gym. I’ll have you know I can lift seventy-five pounds with no problem.”
“Add another one-fifty to that and you’ve got me.”
“I bet I could take you.” She stuck her tongue out at him and it caused his pulse to quicken.
Christ Almighty, was she...flirting?
“I bet you couldn’t,” he challenged, waggling his brows.
“Wanna bet on that?”
“Depends on what’s on the table.”
“Well, you. For starters.” Cocking her head to the side, she pointed a finger towards the front door. “March, Mister. Today’s your lucky day.”
—————
Ags
She had no idea what she’d been thinking when she offered to give him a massage, but it was too late to take it back now.
No take-backs now, you idiot.
Accepting this truth and swallowing her nerves into place, she followed behind Jeb as they made their way up the staircase—a grand feat for a guy with a broken toe—and entered the room temporarily serving as her massage parlor...
Her bedroom.
Of course a million bizarre and slightly dirty thoughts entered her mind as he peeled his shirt off and got comfortable on the table, but she promised herself she’d be as honest and professional about it as possible.
However, actually being honest and professional about it would be an entirely different story altogether.
“That’s cold!” He exclaimed when her oily hands came in contact with his back. “Geez, aren’t you supposed to lather it up on your hands first, to warm it?”
“Sorry,” she mumbled, her ears instantly catching fire. “I’ll be sure to do that next time.”
Idiot! Of course she knew she was supposed to warm it up on her hands first, but damn it, she couldn’t think properly when he was around. And she definitely couldn’t form coherent thoughts when he had his shirt off.
Hundreds of tiny freckles dusting across his shoulders taunted her, making her envious of their existence. If only she could be so close to him, somehow. And that shaggy hair of his...ugh! She wanted to run her fingers through it so badly.
It was stupid—she knew that—but she couldn’t help feeling out of sorts when it came to the guy named Jebson McIntosh. He was her kryptonite and he didn’t even realize it. He did things to her that she didn’t understand—things nobody could understand, really.
Before he came into her life, she’d been perfectly content with being Agnes all the time. Being a guy was fun, and definitely more relaxing than being a girl.
She did love being a girl, sometimes, but girls always got the short end of the stick. The harassment that came along with her pretty skirts and frilly blouses were too much of a pain in the ass. Agnes never had to go through any of that.
But then she met him and he did that stupid thing to her heart. He made her want to be girly and it bothered her because for as long as she could remember, the girly side of her didn’t rear its pretty head very often.
Not until him.
And now here they were, two years later, and he was lying on her table, partially naked, groaning in that stupid sexy voice of his as she rubbed his back.
Stupid, stupid man.
“That’s nice,” he mumbled. “Your hands really are magic.”
You have no idea.
“No wonder Tula hired you on as her masseuse; you’re seriously amazing at this.”
Smiling at his compliment, she slid her thumbs between his shoulder blades and felt a chill shoot straight down her spine when he released a deep, downright drool-worthy moan.
“God, Aggie.”
Holy hell. If ever a man possessed the power to make her want to take her underwear off and toss them to the floor, especially just by saying her name, it was him.
“I need you...” Her voice became lodged in her throat as her heart skipped a beat. Swallowing hard, she tried again. “I need you to roll over so I can get the front.”
“Get the front, huh?”
She knew that tone. She’d heard it plenty of times from perverted old men who thought they were going to get more out of their session with her. It always annoyed her, but with Jeb, it was different.
He honestly had no idea the things she’d do for him if he’d only ask.
“Just roll over.” Rolling her eyes, she reached for the bottle of lavender-scented oil again, but froze in place when he turned over on the table and his delectable, wonderfully chiseled torso came into view.
Her eyes followed the trail of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of his jeans and gods above, she just knew she was going to go to Hell for the thoughts she was having.
I don’t even believe in Hell!
“Enjoying the view?”
It sounded like a car wreck in her brain. She literally heard the busting glass and screeching tires as her eyes snapped back to his and he gave her the biggest, most evil grin she’d ever witnessed.
He’d caught her staring!
“I...I...um...I...that...”
Not one logical formation of words left her lips as she all but fell apart right then and there. She was usually such a confident person, tough-as-nails to boot. But with him...
Ugh.
“Aggie, I’m kidding.” He sat up on the table and laughed, his features softening. “I mean, unless you really were enjoying the view. Were you?”
Perhaps she was mistaken, but she thoug
ht she heard a hint of hope in his voice.
“I...I...uh...well, I...”
Damn it! What was wrong with her? Why did he possess such a power over her, and when did she allow it to happen?
Christmas Eve, two years ago.
She knew the exact moment he gained that power over her, and she also knew he was using it to his advantage, the jerk.
But oh, how she didn’t mind at all, especially when he slid his hand over the side of his neck like that and all of his muscles danced to a tune she very much wanted to be a part of.
It was so hopeless it was pathetic. She wanted him in the worst of ways; like how Laney always wanted new books.
Jeb was a book she wanted to read over and over again. If he were a book, she’d caress his pages all day and all night, barely even breaking for food.
But oh, if he was food...
I’d gobble him up and go back for seconds.
The heat in his gaze told her he was having similar thoughts and that thrilled her beyond belief. One corner of his mouth slowly hooked in a grin and it made her lick her lips in anticipation.
She could still taste him on her mouth and she needed more.
She had to have more.
Her feet, suddenly having a mind of their own, carried her forward, and his arms were already waiting for her. She slid into them and met his eager lips halfway.
It felt like the very air from her lungs disappeared as the flavor of his mouth delighted her tongue. A soft moan escaped her and he breathed it into himself, not once releasing the hold he had on her.
How many times had she dreamt of this moment?
How many times had she relived that kiss?
Oh gods, this is really happening. Jeb McIntosh is kissing me.
And oh, how she loved it.
How she loved...
“Aggie,” he whispered, his breath hot against her parted lips. “You’re killing me.”
“I’m not meaning to.” Her voice quivered, heavy with lust and a thousand wicked intentions. “We can stop.”
“I don’t want to stop.” His hands slid up and down her back, sending wave after wave of chills throughout her body. “Unless you want to. Do you want to?”
One of These Days (Prairie Town Book 4) Page 5