by Dee Tenorio
It was her turn to raise her brow. “Oh, you know how that went?”
“Only because I remember when he taught the elder twins.” He laughed outright at that. “That was the only time I’ve ever seen Locke sick.”
She had to join him. Daniel and Dean could work a gym like a finely tuned Stradivarius. Machinery, on the other hand…not so much. Even now, she barely trusted either one of them with a can opener. “I don’t think Locke kept his lunch the entire time they were learning.”
“You couldn’t have been worse than that.”
“I didn’t make him throw up, no.” But she could still hear his barked, SonofabitchMandy! every time she thought about it. “A big part of the car payment came from his swear jar dues, though. And you do know how the passenger armrests in the van were broken, right?”
Cole’s stunned blink had her giggling.
She put her hands on the armrests of her own plastic chair, lifted her body while stomping her right foot and in a voice she hoped wouldn’t carry, mimicked, “Brake, Mandy! Brake, brake, brake, goddammit, braaaake!”
They were both still cracking up when the finance agent came back to his desk with a wide grin and a folder of papers. “I see you two are having a great time.”
“Oh, you know, the usual new-car mania,” Cole answered, winking at her.
He always winked whenever they had a private joke. Like when he made some obscure Star Trek reference or said something ridiculous in Elvish just to drive her brothers insane. He’d winked at her at least a million times in the course of the twelve years they’d known each other. This moment shouldn’t have been any different, but she had the feeling this was the first time he ever noticed that her breath caught as a direct result.
For a split second, his grin faded and his eyes narrowed, gaze going to her mouth. His brows drew together, consternation clouding his expression and giving her hope…until realization had those brows lifting.
Don’t panic. He won’t ask you about it here. He’ll forget in twenty seconds, he always does. Do. Not. Panic!
“I have great news for you, Miss Jackman!” the agent announced, opening the folder and pulling out a set of keys, holding it up by a little black alarm bob. “You’re now the proud owner of your first car!”
She yanked her gaze from Cole’s face, hoping hers wasn’t turning that oh-so-attractive shade of red again. “Really?”
“Really. She’s all yours. We’ll have to sign a few more papers, but the numbers we were hoping for are going to pan out. You’ll have a monthly payment of two hundred and twenty-six dollars, and that’ll include the extended warranty…”
She tried to concentrate on the agent’s words, but they kept fading out on her. This whole seduction plan was not going well. First Cole saw her half naked before he was supposed to. Then she yelled at him until he yelled back. Now he was starting to notice her feelings when she was supposed to make this whole thing about casual sex. Dirty, sweaty, in-the-daytime sex.
No wonder no one left the seducing to the virgins.
This is not about your feelings, Amanda Jackman. This is about getting that man naked and doing everything you ever fantasized about with him. Getting him out of your system, not drinking more of the Cole-flavored Kool-Aid. Twelve years of pining is enough. Hit it and quit it, girl. You’re never going to quit anything if you bring feelings into it. And you’ll have to quit him, because if there’s anything you know about Cole Engstrom, it’s if you get attached, he’ll walk away from you.
Like she was on fire.
Away from the Jackmans, Cole’s relationship capability rated somewhere in the zero-point range. He liked women. He sure seemed to like going out with them, and since she considered it highly unlikely they were playing patty-cake when they were alone together, she could safely guess he liked sex. But the walls he put up with other people were almost ridiculous. Nothing but surface with whoever he considered an outsider. A nod, a faint smile of recognition. That was all people he’d grown up with all his life ever got. Common courtesy, yes. But no one saw the Cole who laughed and played, who argued and sniped, or even the one who ground his teeth in silent rage. No one but her family.
If she pushed this, she’d become an outsider too. Cut off like chaff.
An ache filled her heart, but she knew it wouldn’t change her mind. Something had to happen. She couldn’t keep living in this pathetic limbo of hoping he’d suddenly fall madly in love with her. It was never going to happen. She didn’t have what it took to change that quality about Cole, and she knew it. He felt safe in his shell—he wasn’t about to give it up for her. But if she tried really hard, if she pushed, she’d at least have memories. She’d have closure.
She’d be free of everything.
At that, she finally snapped back to attention. Squaring her shoulders, she forced her focus onto the agent and all the papers he was spreading out in front of her. Each one had some important purpose or expense to it. It helped, knowing that screwing this up might prove Locke right about her needing someone to take care of her. She even managed to ignore the man on her left. Not noticing at all how close his warmth was to her side. She didn’t scratch the spot on her cheek where his speculative gaze was trying to burn a hole through her skin, either.
Let him stare, she decided after taking a fortifying breath, putting the pen to paper. Let him wonder what the hell was going on with the woman he’d put into the neat mental cubby labeled, “Best Friends’ Sister, Do Not Touch”. She had never asked to be put there, and she was tired of being what everyone seemed to think she was.
Helpless little sister.
Useless little store clerk.
Pointless little virgin.
She signed the next paper harder. She was done doing what she was told. Being what everyone else needed.
She scrawled her name tall and wide on the last page, adding a flair underneath before turning to Cole with her back straight, her chin high in challenge and as defiant a smile as she could offer.
It took him a second, but he straightened, the stunned expression on his face giving way after a long moment to a crooked lift to one corner of his mouth.
You see me now, don’t you, Cole?
An answering glint at her challenge showed in his eyes. He’d never been able to turn down one of those, and now she understood why, what with the way her heart felt like it was going to pound right through her chest or maybe her ears or possibly both. She felt giddy and terrified and excited and determined all at the same time.
She stood and walked to where the agent finally held out her keys. All hers. She took them and led the way to her car.
They could all just watch her go or they could follow, but one thing was sure. This little girl wasn’t waiting for anyone else to tell her how to live her life.
Watch out, world, here I come.
If he’d thought Amanda wrapped in feathers was something, Amanda wrapped in confidence was absolutely hypnotizing. All the pretty he’d spent years trying not to acknowledge turned blinding. It was a damn good thing he hadn’t been able to see her very well while they were driving or he’d have wrapped his bike around an electrical pole on the old highway back into Rancho del Cielo.
Something had happened as she’d signed those papers. Something important. Whether it had anything to do with that strange gasp she’d made when he’d winked at her or if she had simply realized she’d been able to make a major decision for her life all on her own, he couldn’t say.
Or maybe he didn’t want to say. It would mean looking at things he didn’t want to look at. Still, guilt nagged at him.
For all that he’d always tamped down his interest in Amanda, he’d never once considered how she felt about their chemistry. He shifted in his seat, but the discomfort of that realization didn’t fade. He’d been thoughtless with that wink. Thoughtless about a lot, now that he considered it. Always assuming that since she didn’t know what he was thinking, there was nothing to worry about. And maybe there wasn’t.
Maybe he was making too much out of a tiny gasp. He probably was.
But what if he wasn’t?
He stole another glance at her. Amanda had always been hard to read. Not just to him, to everyone. She had her tells—like that sigh of hers—but when she wanted something close to the vest, she could stonewall like no one else he knew, even Locke. Sheer stubbornness or pride could keep her going for weeks when she let it. He’d always assumed he had a good handle on her. So good that he’d taken her feelings for granted?
More than possible. Likely, even. It always happened so naturally, turning to her to see a smile on her face when something funny happened, wanting to share it with her. Even better when the joke was just between them. No matter how many people surrounded them, she’d smile at him and no one else in the world mattered. He’d always thought she liked that feeling as much as he did. Testament to their friendship. Today, though, he saw the shadows in her eyes. A hurt he didn’t understand, didn’t know how to manage.
The guilt of Locke’s secret weighed impossibly heavier.
When should I have told her, he demanded of his conscience. How was he supposed to let her know what was going on when they were surrounded by strangers all day and her brothers the night before? The small amount of time they’d been alone, she’d mostly been undressed. Maybe some other guy could keep his druthers when a tall blonde goddess was wearing less than a bikini in front of him. Cole was not one of those guys. If he was ever honest with himself, he didn’t want to be one of those guys. Not with Amanda.
Yet another aspect of this growing disaster he didn’t want to think about but he knew he wouldn’t be able to duck for much longer.
Just when he thought he’d finally get to tell her everything, she made a turn away from the direction of her house and pulled into the lot for Shaky Jake’s. His groan didn’t make it past his full-face helmet, but it wasn’t like she was asking his permission.
Shaky Jake’s was good for three things and three things only. One, finding a good drink. Two, finding a great burger. But mostly three, finding the best gossip in all of Rancho del Cielo. He couldn’t help but wonder which one she was after tonight.
Amanda Jackman walking in with him, her face flushed from success and those hot little looks she kept tossing his way, all those illegal-looking curves of hers on display in that tank top along with those painted-on jeans? That wasn’t just gossip. That was a grapevine-clogging atomic bomb. Locke wasn’t the only one who was going to lose his shit when he heard about it, either. All the brothers, even the youngest ones, would too.
He stared at her, wondering if he was paranoid, sure something was going on. What are you up to, Amanda Jane?
“Hungry?” she asked, climbing out of that tiny car that shouldn’t have been big enough to hold her endless legs, looking at him over the roof. She didn’t lift her dark sunglasses to the top of her head like she normally would when talking to him. He pulled off his helmet, not blaming her as he squinted beneath the overwhelming orange beams of light coming from the setting sun. It didn’t settle his gut feeling that something was going on, but he was withholding judgment a little longer. It wasn’t like he wasn’t keeping secrets too.
So why did he have a feeling that this woman, who’d never had a secret in her life, wasn’t very keen to reveal it?
“You won’t be cold?” He wasn’t sure he could take another test of gallantry. She’d never know how hard it had been to hand over his coat and block the view of those pebbled nipples back at the dealership. He’d only done it so his mouth would stop watering.
“With all those people in there?” She slammed the car door, and he knew he was doomed.
“Yeah, okay.” He secured Mellon and the bike’s matching stone gray-and-silver-embellished helmet, reluctantly following her into the single-door entry to the town watering hole.
Time didn’t exactly stop when they walked in together. Music flowed from the speakers in the ceiling, conversation rising and falling. Wooden booths lined the walls of the building, tables on one side of the majestic bar in the middle and a small dance floor with aged, black-and-white tiles was half full on the other side. Typical Monday night. A few people looked over their shoulders but no one seemed particularly shocked to find Amanda strolling in with him.
This was good. He might live through dinner after all.
Then Amanda hooked her arm through his and pulled him down a little to say something in his ear. Firm breasts pressed into his chest while the arm she’d claimed for her own somehow wound around her, settling at the small of her back as if her rounded ass was just the shelf he’d been looking for.
Who knew eyebrows rising and a few jaws dropping actually made long creaking noises worthy of a screen door badly in need of oil?
“Do you want a booth or to try to get something at the bar?”
Her thigh was pressed against his, almost insinuated between his legs. She’d finally lifted her shades to the top of her head, meaning those eyes of hers were only a few inches from him, alight with mischief. Her mouth, those plump pink lips with that delicate little mole above the left corner, was close enough for him to taste the mint on her breath. Did he want a booth? Hell no, he wanted a flat surface and absolutely no one around to interrupt.
“A booth would be great.” It would at least guarantee him a table’s width of space to figure out what game this Jackman was playing. To say nothing of the space to give his instant erection some time alone to learn a few manners. Would she notice if, when he sat down, he buried his face in his hands and said a few prayers for strength?
As fast as she’d spun against his body, she was gone, looking for a free table. Leaving him looking like a pole-axed jackass with a serious hard-on next to the jukebox. Yeah, that would salt the gossip nicely.
Jackmans. Hard on the ego. Good for the soul.
He had to remind himself of that sometimes. As nerve-wracking as they could be, the entire family—Amanda included—had always treated him like he was one of their own. Not for any good reason, either. The elder twins simply adopted him, Locke simply accepted him and the others simply decided he belonged there. For a guy with no siblings and parents no one in their right mind wanted to spend time with, they filled a space he hadn’t realized had been hungering. Maybe they’d needed someone too, not that he had ever been able to figure out what role he served in a family that had every spot taken care of. Locke was the serious one, the elder twins were the clowns, Amanda was the maternal one. Andrew was the musical one, Peter the studious one and Steven was the thoughtful one. They hadn’t let him go, and he’d never seen a reason to point out the oversight to them.
Now would not be a good time to do so.
Even if Amanda was sliding into the padded booth like she was slinking into bed. His bed.
No. Not his bed. No beds at all.
Damn it! He headed over to the booth and all but dumped his body into the opposite seat.
Amanda frowned. “Something wrong?”
Just the fact that his dick hurt for her, the entire town knew it and her brothers would be along presently to rip it off his body and shove it down his throat. Or possibly somewhere even less pleasant. “Nope.”
May Belle Butner herself, the owner of Shaky Jake’s, came along to take their order. She smiled at them, but Cole didn’t miss that pointed glint of her eye in his direction. “What can I get you two?”
A guillotine? “Beer,” he answered, biting back the urge to tell her where to stick her curiosity. May Belle wasn’t known for her patience with rude customers. “Half-pound mushroom burger, medium well.” If he was going to die, he was going to his maker full.
“Same,” Amanda piped up. “But can I get your jalapeño poppers on the side?”
“You sure, honey?” May Belle leaned down as if being conspiratorial worked in this building. “Most girls like to get a little less to eat on a date.”
“It’s okay,” Amanda reassured with a teasing flick of her eyes his way. “He already kno
ws every secret I have. Isn’t that right, Cole?”
The horror must have showed on his face, because May Belle just snickered, “’Atta girl.”
“May Belle’s crazy,” Amanda said into the dumbfounded silence a minute later, looking out at the rest of the people there like a girl at her first theater experience. “But wouldn’t it be funny if they all thought we were out on a date too?”
Oh sure. Hilarious.
She made a face before rolling her eyes at him. “Oh, come on, Cole. Lighten up. It’s not like anyone would seriously think that. Look at us.”
Affront he shouldn’t be feeling rose out of nowhere. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, really. It’s just, you’re you and I’m…me.”
“Is that supposed to make sense?”
Her sigh should have knocked over the building, and unless his hearing was damaged, she muttered, “So oblivious.”
He leaned back against the tall wall dividing the booths and crossed his arms.
“Okay, I’ll spell it out to you. Do you ever bring dates to Shaky Jake’s?”
Hell, no. “Not lately.”
“Not ever,” she corrected, sounding like one of his grade-school teachers. “I’d have heard about it. Because you know everyone and their grandma would be talking about it next day. Bringing a girl to Shaky Jake’s is like taking one to a wedding as your date—might as well just put a ring on her finger because you just announced to everyone that you’re serious about her. Right?”
He wasn’t going to agree with her. She’d like that too much.
“Now, let’s look at me. I don’t date. Everyone here knows it. Look, there’s Susie over there at the bar.” She waved to her friend and boss.
The leggy brunette caught her gesture and apart from her blue eyes going wide for a second, all she did was raise her shot glass in response.
Amanda turned back to him, her mouth flat. “If Susie thought I was on a date, she’d be over here in a heartbeat, dragging me to the women’s restroom, fixing my hair and slapping makeup on my face with a paint roller.”