Felony Romance Series: Complete Box Set (Books 1-5)

by Jeana E. Mann

  “When she lost the third baby, I’d had it. I was nineteen years old and all I could think about was getting the hell away from her and her crazy ass brother. I knew that if I stayed, I would end up dead before I was twenty. We said a lot of hurtful things to each other before it was over. I packed up my shit and hit the road with Randy. We went to California to live with my uncle David. He had a couple of bars out there. Chelsea went to New York with her brother and I didn’t see her again for another four years.”

  “Jack – I had no idea. I wish you had told me.” Ally struggled to wrap her mind around his words. There was so much information to process. She could picture a young Jack, overwrought with guilt over a wife that he didn’t love. She turned onto her side, slid her hand into his and squeezed. He smiled at her, a genuine smile this time, and squeezed back. The warmth of his grasp sent a shiver of attraction up her arm. When his fingers entwined with hers, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly.

  “She popped into my bar one day, looking like hell, strung out, begged me to help her, said I’d made her that way, that she’d never been able to cope with me leaving. I put her in rehab and she seemed better for a while…then she disappeared again for another three years.

  “David -- my uncle -- knew about all the shit I’d been through. He called me up one day and said he was in some trouble and wanted me to take over Felony and the pub for him. I decided it would be a good chance for me to start over and leave all that mess behind. So I moved down here and we came up with an arrangement where I could buy both places from him over time.”

  “And I thought my life was messed up,” Ally said, for lack of anything better.

  Jack shrugged. “Like I said — life happens and you deal with it the best you can.”

  “So she’s in the hospital. What happened? Did she overdose?”

  “Yeah. She agreed to go to rehab — again. The thing is…I feel responsible for the way she is. I wasn’t nice to her. I cheated on her. She cheated on me. I gave her the drugs that got her hooked all those years ago. We weren’t — aren’t — good for each other in any way, shape, or form.”

  Addiction was something that Ally understood. How it wormed its claws into your life and stole it away when you weren’t looking. She wanted to tell him about her mother but she couldn’t force the words to her lips. She’d kept the secret for so long that it seemed impossible to give voice to it now.

  “It sounds to me like the ties between you two run pretty deep. Maybe you aren’t really done with her.”

  “I was done with her years ago, Ally. It doesn’t mean that I don’t feel responsible for her – for the way that she is.” He kissed the back of her hand again. “I never felt about her the way I feel about you.”

  It took a minute for his words to register, but when they did, she searched his eyes. They were warm and liquid and deep, so deep that she might lose herself in them if she stared too long. From the quiet sobriety in his eyes, he spoke the truth. A tiny stab of nonsensical jealousy caused her temples to throb. Why on earth would she be jealous of a drug addicted ex-wife whom he’d never loved? The idea of Jack sharing a home and his name with another woman turned her vision red and conjured up all sorts of unpleasant urges ranging from panic to violence. In all the years of her relationship with Brian, she’d never felt anything more than minor annoyance at his lack of interest in her life. Even the debacle with Becca had failed to elicit jealousy.

  “Say something.”

  She chewed on her lower lip, too deep in thought for words. What was it about this bartender that made him so different from the other men she’d known? Aside from an inability to button his shirts, he was arrogant and irritating and seemed to enjoy pushing her buttons at every opportunity. He had witnessed her bad behavior and drunkenness, survived an encounter with her father, and after all of that still seemed to like her. Attraction and understanding and empathy pulled her closer to him than she’d ever been to anyone in her life.

  Jack frowned and sat up then began to straighten his clothes.

  “What are you doing?” She put a hand on his arm to stop him. He looked back at her in surprise.

  “You want me to leave, right?”

  A slow smile lit up her face. “No, I don’t think I do.”

  When Ally awoke the next morning, the mattress beside her was empty. After the debacle of dinner and Jack’s confessions, he’d made love to her with a tenderness that had caught her off guard. On some level, she wasn’t surprised to find him gone in the morning. Of course, he had fled at the first opportunity. Only a fool would expect anything different. He was – after all – Jack.

  Her heart sank. There really was nothing between them but sex. How many times had he warned her to remain emotionally detached? The wreckage of his former lovers should have been a warning; the last thing she wanted was to become one of those weeping, sniveling girls who trotted on his heels like besotted puppies. She had too much pride for that. Maybe it was better that he had gone. There would be no awkward excuses or stilted conversations this morning.

  She swung her legs over the side of the bed and set her feet on the cool wood floor, flexing her toes and thinking. The touch of his hands still echoed on her flesh. Every muscle in her body screamed with pain, making it impossible to forget where he’d been and what he’d done to her. Her cheeks flushed at the memories. Was it always like that between lovers, she wondered, or was it just Jack? He seemed to think this was something out of the ordinary and given his history, he would know. He had taken her to the farthest realms of pleasure time and again throughout the night. The aching space between her thighs said it was a reality and yet the whole tryst seemed more like some outlandish dream.

  Shrugging on her robe, she padded barefoot down the hallway drawn by the scent of fresh coffee. With her hands shoved into her pockets and shoulders hunched as if to ward off an oncoming blow, she rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped short. A bare-chested Jack stood next to the breakfast bar, barefoot and wearing his faded jeans.

  “You’re still here.” Her heart soared at the sight of him poking around in her cabinets.

  “Of course. Is that okay?” He rubbed a hand over his bare stomach and stretched like a lazy cat. “I made coffee. Do you want some?”

  “Yes, please. Are you hungry? Do you want some breakfast?” Ally asked, unable to hold back a huge smile of happiness as she walked to the refrigerator.

  “What’ve you got?” Jack came to stand behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his chin on the top of her head as she studied the contents of the fridge.

  They ate in companionable silence. She felt comfortable with him. Her spacious kitchen seemed small and overpowered by his tall frame, something she had never noticed with Brian. Maybe that was because Jack seemed to always take the forefront in every scenario while the sedate Brian blended into the background.

  As if sensing her thoughts, Jack looked up from his plate and smiled at her.

  “This is great,” he said, scraping the last bite from the porcelain with his fork. “I’m tempted to lick the plate. Is there more?”

  “You’ve already had three helpings,” she said, incredulous. “Where do you put all of that? You don’t have an ounce of fat on you. If I ate that much, I’d be a hippo.”

  “What can I say?” He shrugged and reached across the table for her plate. “Are you going to eat the rest of that?”

  “No, go ahead.” She slid her plate toward him with a laugh.

  “Fucking always makes me hungry,” he said and grinned at her resultant blush. He gulped down her remaining biscuit in two bites, pushed back from the table, and patted his stomach in satisfaction. “I thought you couldn’t cook.” He took both of their plates and headed for the sink where he proceeded to load the dishwasher while she watched in amazement.

  “I never said I couldn’t cook. I said that I don’t cook. Two entirely different things.” The blatant pleasure on his face gave her a curious th
rill and a sudden pang of satisfaction.

  After a few minutes, he slid the dishwasher door closed and turned to face her. She had been staring blatantly at his broad back, admiring the play of muscles as he moved, and blushed at the angry red scratches left there by her nails. His front side was no less spectacular, if less colorful, with the swell of pectoral muscles high above the thick cords of his abs. Caught in the act of checking him out, she swallowed hard and risked a glance at his face. The brown eyes had darkened to black and his nostrils flared when he realized what she had been doing. He reached out a hand to grab the belt of her robe then gave it a small tug so that it fell open to bare her breasts.

  “Jack!” She made a feeble attempt to pull the edges of the robe back together, but he slipped a hand inside and around her waist, drawing her against him.

  He nibbled along her neck just below her ear. “I could get used to this. I like waking up in bed with you. Watching you cook for me. I might never leave.”

  “I might not let you leave,” she said as her robe fell to the floor.

  CHAPTER 16

  ONE DAY melted into the next. As impossible as it seemed, the heat of summer continued to climb. The crime rate across the city reached an unprecedented high as the sultry temperatures caused patience to wane and tempers to flare. The grass turned a sickly shade of brown and heat shimmered over the pavement like a mirage. Ally took no notice, too engrossed with the flattering attentions of Jack to care about anything as mundane as the weather.

  Jack came to her office every day with lunch, to make her laugh and steal kisses. That thirty minutes meant more to her than she cared to admit. When the hands of the grandfather clock in her office approached the noon mark, her stomach began to flutter with excitement and her palms to sweat. Jack brought a different cuisine for each meal and delighted in her hearty appetite. He also brought some inconsequential gift for Penny. The old bat lit up like a neon sign every time she saw Jack and began to treat Ally like less of a pariah and more of a trusted co-worker.

  The days were wonderful, but the nights bordered on pure bliss. Jack kept her up most of the night with his lovemaking, testing her boundaries and forcing her to admit that the desire between them continued to climb alongside the searing temperatures. She was happy.

  Still unconvinced that they belonged together, she had to admit three things. First, the sexual chemistry between them would not be denied. Second, he seemed determined to remain in her life despite the obstacles that fate kept throwing into their path. And third, he overwhelmed every shred of common sense she’d ever possessed. Like the finest scotch served at Jameson’s, he left her breathless and intoxicated. Damn him, damn his sexy black eyes, and damn those long sensual fingers that seemed to hold magic in their touch

  The morning after a particularly grueling sexcapade, Ally struggled to stay awake as she scrolled through the financial statements. Her thoughts kept returning to Jack’s proposition and the possibility that he might be right. Maybe they belonged together. Maybe she would be passing up the opportunity of a lifetime if she ignored their connection. Maybe she needed to take a chance on him. Maybe…maybe she loved him. The revelation brought a flood of panic that forced the breath from her lungs with a whoosh.

  The intercom buzzed and interrupted her revelation. “Mr. Reyes would like to see you in his office.” Penny’s voice echoed through the room.

  “Are you sure?” Ally dropped her pen in alarm. Mr. Reyes only called people to his office for one of two reasons: to promote them or to fire them. Her stomach lurched with dread.

  Fifteen minutes later, Ally sat in her car with a cardboard box full of her personal belongings and a pink slip lying on the dashboard. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. Un-freaking-believable! How could this be happening? She had been downsized… outsourced… eliminated… in an effort to reduce expenses and increase efficiencies. Life seemed to be fond of playing cruel tricks on her while she could do nothing but stand by and take it. Feeling numb and out of control, she sat in the car and watched as the number of cars in the garage dwindled until there was no one left on her floor.

  Her cell phone rang and like an automaton, she answered it.

  “Popsicle?” The voice on the other end of the call was deep and masculine, slightly rough, like gravel underneath silk.

  “Jack?” Dismay gave way to pleasure at the sound of his voice, followed by a fluttering between her legs.

  He chuckled, the sound warming her numb body. “Hi, baby. I missed having lunch with you today.”

  “Look –– it’s really not a good time, Jack.”

  “Why not?” He paused and she could picture the unlit cigarette dangling from his lips as he spoke, a gleam in his dark eyes. “What are you doing?”

  Oh, hell, she thought. Why fight it? She felt like a salmon swimming upstream only to be pushed back repeatedly. The strength to resist had ebbed away with her latest disappointment.

  “Uh, well, I’m sitting in a parking garage staring at the wall.”

  “Bad day, baby?” His voice lowered to a caress that raised goose bumps on her arms. For some reason, the compassion in his voice brought tears to her eyes.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m having a bad day.”

  “Come and see me,” he said. “I can make you forget all about it.” Like a lamb being lured to slaughter, she was powerless to resist him when he spoke in that tone.

  “I’m not sure you can,” she replied as she traced the curve of the steering wheel with a finger.

  “Such a pessimist. Come and see me,” he repeated, his voice turned seductive. “And take your panties off before you get here.”

  “Okay,” she whispered. She teetered on the edge of an emotional precipice, afraid to look down, knowing that one step in his direction would allow him to slip past the tattered barriers of her self-control and send her spiraling into the abyss.

  “I promise you won’t regret it. Get over here. Now.”

  And just like that, she stepped over the edge.

  As it was only Tuesday, Felony was quiet and empty when she arrived. Her footsteps echoed down the deserted hallways, reverberating off the walls like gunshots. An air of tension always thrummed beneath the surface. The place slept like a caged lion biding its time with tail swishing and claws sheathed. In the broad light of day devoid of the swirling smoke and flashing laser lights, the place seemed smaller and shabbier, with peeling paint on the walls and stains on the floor.

  She ducked through The Rabbit Hole and came out on the other side to find Jack pacing the length of the bar, unlit cigarette in one hand and his cell phone in the other. He kept his head down and turned away from her. She couldn’t quite make out what he was saying but his tone couldn’t be misunderstood. Twice he slammed his hand against the wall hard enough to make the liquor bottles shake on their shelves. After a few minutes, he turned to look at her. The light in his eyes frightened her. His muscles were coiled tight like a cobra about to strike. Not for the first time, she realized how lethal Jack could be if he didn’t keep a leash on the tension that always lurked just below the surface of his easygoing manner. When his gaze caught hers, his expression softened. As if coming to some sort of decision, he pulled the phone away from his ear and spoke directly into the receiver. “Do not call here again. I mean it.”

  He hung up the phone and took a second to run his hands back through his hair as if regaining his composure.

  “Sorry about that,” he said with a charming smile meant to distract her. “Stupid phone solicitor.”

  “Is everything okay?” she asked. “You look pretty mad.”

  “Not mad, frustrated. Some people can’t take no for an answer.”

  “Sounds like the pot calling the kettle black if you ask me,” she muttered.

  “Oh, it’s not the same thing at all. I know when you say no, that deep down inside you’re dying to say yes.” He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers, lightly enough to make her skin pe
bble with gooseflesh. “Only your words deny me. Your eyes and your body are all screaming my name. Jack, Jack, OH JACK!” He threw up a hand in a dramatic gesture to emphasize a perfect imitation of her ecstatic screams from the previous night.

  She giggled and tried to stop it by covering her mouth with her hand then cast a quick glance around to see if she should be embarrassed by his outburst. No one was watching. Four guys played billiards in the side room; Ally recognized one of them as a bouncer and another as one of the new bartenders. They were deep in conversation about a music video. Underneath the smack of the billiard balls, the muted refrain of the jukebox could be heard.

  “Come on over here. I have just the thing to make you feel better.” Cigarette in hand, Jack gestured toward the bar and the odd-looking contraption that sat there. He must have been to Jameson’s Pub earlier that day; he wore those tight black dress pants and a white dress shirt with a skinny black leather necktie hanging untied around the collar.

  “What is this?” With a tentative finger, she traced the intricate filigree around the edge of the object and touched the tiny spigot on the end of one of the extended arms. A blown glass globe with hand-cut facets cast prisms of light onto the counter top. Below that, a Grecian goddess fashioned from sterling silver balanced the glass globe on outstretched arms. “It’s beautiful.”

  “It’s an absinthe fountain,” Randy interrupted, appearing from nowhere, to take a seat beside her at the bar.

  “I got this for Jameson’s.” As he spoke, Jack removed the top of the glass globe, filled it with ice, and bottled Evian. “It was my dad’s. My mom found it and thought I might be able to use it.”