I Know Better (By Your Side Series Book 1)

by A. P. Watson

  “Not at all. I simply happen to find myself very intrigued by you.”

  “If you make it a habit to date women who have the same likes and dislikes as you, I’m certain a little diversity must be a breath of fresh air.”

  “Actually, it is.” He pushed his full wine glass toward me. “Try a sip of this after your next bite of steak.”

  I frowned at him skeptically for a moment before finally acquiescing. The meat was so tender it practically dissolved on my tongue. Then, when I added a sip of Jackson’s wine, flavor exploded inside my mouth in the most delectable way. “Wow. That’s amazing.”

  “I knew it would be. Sometimes liking the same things, I do have its benefits.”

  “You have to try it.” I loaded my fork with a piece of steak, offering it to him.

  He accepted the steak, following it with a sip of wine just as I had done. “I love being right.” To his amusement, I rolled my eyes in response. “Here, try a bite of mine.”

  When he placed his fork in my mouth, I nearly sighed in contentment. “I thought my steak was delicious, but your coq au vin is better.”

  “Want to switch?” he asked.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Why not?”

  “Okay.”

  Jackson switched our plates, quickly diving into my steak while I finished his coq au vin. “I know you work in the intensive care unit, but which hospital are you working at?”

  “I just started working at UCMC.” I watched as he filled a clean glass with wine, handing it to me.

  “Oh, my grandfather was there just over a month ago. He had a stroke. There was an amazing team of nurses who worked around the clock to make him comfortable.”

  “Was he able to make a full recovery?”

  “For the most part, he has. Two weeks ago, he was placed in a rehab facility. He has another month or two of physical therapy before he can return home.” He took another sip of wine, his fingers twisting the glass stem.

  “I’m sure that was hard for you too.”

  He nodded once. “I need to go see him. I haven’t visited in a week because everything has been so hectic at the office.” Jackson’s arms stretched over the table, coming to a stop on either side of his plate. The air of cockiness, which seemed to hover around him like a dense fog, dissipated.

  In an instant, I took his hand in mine, squeezing lightly. “I’ve seen the hours you and Ryan put in at the office. I’m sure your grandfather knows how hard you work and how much you want to see him.”

  “Thanks.” His thumb slid across my knuckles softly.

  “You know, when Terayn first suggested this date, I was completely against it, but I’m glad I changed my mind.”

  “I am too.”

  “Do you want to go with me to Miller’s Pub after we finish eating? No date is complete without some Irish car bombs.”

  “You drink Irish car bombs?”

  “Jacks, I believe we’ve already established my blatant uncouthness . . . are you in?”

  “Jacks?” he asked. “Is that my new nickname?”

  “Yeah. I mean, we were eating off one another’s plate five minutes ago. I think that warrants a special term of endearment.”

  “I like it,” he said with a laugh.

  “So, are you down for drinking some Irish car bombs?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Forty minutes later, we finished our exquisite meal at Everest and rode the elevator to the ground floor. A valet retrieved Jackson’s car and had it waiting for us by the time we emerged from the building. Jackson thanked the valet, placing a tip in the man’s hand as he shook it. He drove a Corvette Stingray with a black exterior so pristine, I couldn’t resist the temptation to run my hand along the paint. “I love Stingrays.”

  “Really?”

  “If this were a ‘62, I’d give you my panties right now.”

  “You drink whiskey and love Corvettes?”

  “My dad rebuilt a ‘62 when I was a kid and I helped him a little. He taught me to love Corvettes and Jack Daniels.”

  “And what did your mother teach you?”

  “How to cook a damn good chicken pot pie.”

  He inched closer to me, his head bowing as he whispered in my ear. “Will you make it for me sometime?”

  “If you want.”

  He smiled at me in response and proceeded to take my hand in his own. To my surprise, he opened the passenger door of his car and guided me into the seat. I fastened my seatbelt, watching as he slid behind the steering wheel. “Would you like to have brunch with me tomorrow?” he asked, shifting his attention to me.

  “Jacks, I haven’t even gotten you drunk off Irish car bombs yet and you’re already asking me out on a second date?”

  “It’d just be to hang out. You have to eat sometime tomorrow, don’t you?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Brunch it is, then,” he said. I guided him in the direction of Miller’s Pub, unable to resist watching the nightlife thriving all around us. There was something mysterious and exhilarating about Chicago at night, as if each lit up window in the multitude of skyscrapers added together to create a single entity, much like a strand of lights on a Christmas tree. “You like the city?”

  When I turned to face Jacks, he was staring at me out of the corner of his eye. “I love it. I grew up in a small town. We didn’t have buildings anywhere near this tall.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Where did you grow up?” I asked.

  “Chicago.”

  “So, you’re a Chicago boy born and bred?”

  “Yeah. Where did you grow up?”

  “Elizabethton, Tennessee. It’s so small, you’d drive right by if you weren’t looking for it,” I answered.

  “I bet it’s quiet and peaceful there though,” he added.

  “Oh, it is. You hear nothing but cicadas at night. I’m still trying to get used to the noises of a big city.”

  “Sounds nice.” We drove several more blocks before we reached the right street. Luckily, Jackson found a parking spot less than a block away. We walked in silence as I led him to my new favorite dive bar. This wasn’t the type of place Jackson would normally frequent, so I expected him to make a snide remark about Miller’s exterior, but he never did. Instead, he placed his hand on the small of my back as he opened the door for me.

  “You ready to drink?”

  “Wren, I thought you’d never ask.” He winked at me, and just like yesterday, my heart rate increased tenfold. Jacks wasn’t a fool. He understood the effect he had on women.

  The atmosphere inside was the exact opposite of the restaurant we’d just been in. Gone were the intimate table settings and candlelight. The romantic ambiance of Everest was replaced by groups of men downing pitchers of beer. Led Zeppelin sounded from the jukebox, and the ever-present peanut shells cracked beneath my heels. Jackson found us an empty table in the center of the room, and I waited for him to sit before grabbing my purse.

  “I’m going to get us some drinks.”

  “Here, take this.” He held a wad of cash in his hand, waiting for me to take it.

  “I don’t want your money. I’m buying you a drink, not the other way around.”

  “Please, take it . . . I insist.”

  “You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” Jackson removed his suit jacket, hanging it on the back of his chair. Even in a button up, I could see the outline of his muscles. This arrangement may only be for one night, but if he felt as good as he looked, I was going to need a repeat.

  “Well, consider this an opportunity for you to grow,” I replied, smiling sweetly. “Oh, and as long as I’m around, you better get used to not getting your way.” I turned on my heel and sauntered toward the bar. Fortunately, there was an empty stool. I set my knee in it, leaning over the counter to get Robbie’s attention. “Robbie!” I waved, calling him over to me.

  “How are you tonight, Wren?”

  “Fantastic!
I’m on a date!” I tilted my head in Jackson’s direction.

  Robbie’s gaze followed my gesture. “Very nice.”

  “I think so too! How are you? Busy night so far?”

  He shrugged. “Same as always on a Saturday.”

  “Thank you for calling my roommates the other night. I really appreciate it.”

  “Anytime. Looks like you’re having a much better night.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “So, what can I get you?” he asked.

  “Four glasses of Jack and two Irish car bombs.”

  “Coming right up! You want your whiskey first?”

  “Yes, please!”

  As Robbie poured my Jack, a man settled into the stool next to me.

  “Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?” The man on my right leaned in close, trying to get my attention. “Or maybe two.”

  Warm hands slid down the tops of my thighs. “Do you need help carrying the drinks, babe?” Jackson’s voice sounded in my ear but was loud enough for the man next to me to hear. I sighed slightly beneath his touch. The feel of his skin was intoxicating, making me long to have his hands all over my body.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to pass on those drinks.” I slid off the stool and backed into Jackson. His hands wrapped protectively around my waist. “I’m a one guy kind of girl.” After paying Robbie and carrying our drinks back to the table, I stared at Jackson curiously. “Okay, so what was all that about?” I sipped my whiskey as I waited for him to reply.

  “That guy has been staring at you from the moment we stepped in here. Then, when you were ordering drinks, he stood there ogling your ass for five minutes.”

  “He just asked to buy me a drink. He was harmless.”

  “That’s not what it seemed like to me. Besides, I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

  “In that case, thank you for the daring rescue.”

  “Mock me all you want, but I know the nature of his thoughts. I’m sure they were the same ones I had yesterday when you came out in that dress.”

  I finished the rest of my drink. Visions of him peeling off my dress overwhelmed my mind. “And what kinds of thoughts might those be?”

  A brief moment passed when our eyes met. His features darkened into the same devious expression he’d had at the restaurant. Maybe, if I asked him to, he’d devour every inch of me. “I thought you brought me here to drink car bombs?”

  “What?” I asked, still clinging to the seductive images my brain concocted.

  “Car bombs?”

  “Oh, right.” Instantly, I snapped out of my daze. “Shall we?”

  We sank the shots in our mugs, chugging frantically before the liquid had a chance to curdle.

  He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “I don’t think I’ve had a car bomb since college.”

  “Feels good going down, doesn’t it?” I whispered, biting my lip.

  He leaned toward me. “You have no idea,” he breathed.

  The sound of several men jeering pulled me from Jacks’s brown eyes. For the first time since we’d entered the bar, the realization of our surroundings dawned on me. “Oh my God.”

  “What?”

  “You took me to dinner at an exquisite French restaurant, and I follow it up with whiskey at a dive bar?”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Jackson glanced around the pub, absorbing every aspect of our new environment. “I like this place.”

  “I don’t know if it has escaped your attention or not, but I’m kind of a mess.”

  This time, Jackson was the one to comfort me. He touched my wrist, his thumb tracing circles over my skin. “If what you say is true, then you’re the most beautiful mess I’ve ever seen.”

  I met his eyes once more, losing all sense of reality. “That’s a word I haven’t heard in a long time.”

  “Beautiful?” he questioned, to which I could only nod in response. My gaze faltered, and I turned my attention to the far side of the pub. “I find that hard to believe, because it’s the only word that comes to mind whenever I look at you.”

  The pressure of his lips on my hand made my heart flutter. Not only was I on a date with the hottest guy I’d ever seen, but he also told me I was beautiful and kissed my hand. Surely, at any moment, I’d wake up and realize I was dreaming.

  “How on earth did Ryan get you to take me out?” My voice was barely a whisper, and Jackson leaned closer to me as if he were hanging onto every word I uttered.

  “Ryan and Terayn talk about you all the time. I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time.”

  “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

  “Actually, I’m not.”

  “You wanted to meet me?”

  “Terayn described you as a smart, gorgeous red-head who curses like a sailor. What guy wouldn’t want to meet the woman who fits that description?”

  “In my experience . . . all of them.”

  “Well, they’re idiots.”

  I pointed at Jackson. “I like you. I’m getting us another car bomb.”

  “Are you sure you can handle it?”

  “Oh, I can handle my alcohol.”

  Four car bombs later, Jackson was carrying me out of the pub. “I thought you could handle your alcohol.” He chuckled as he wrapped my arms around his neck, sweeping my feet off the ground.

  “I haven’t puked yet. I consider that handling my alcohol.”

  “You want me to take you home?”

  “To your home?” I burst into a fit of giggles, all the giddiness the alcohol provided was pumping through my body with full force. “You’re ridiculously attractive, like Calvin Klein model and cover of GQ magazine attractive.”

  “You think so?” he asked, shaking his head.

  My fingertips skated along the side of his neck. “I’d lick butter off your chest.”

  “Now that’s an idea.”

  “Be safe getting home, Wren,” Robbie said from behind the bar.

  “I love you, Robbie! You’re the best damn bartender in the whole city!” I shouted.

  Jackson waved goodbye to Robbie. “I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

  “You know, you haven’t told me much about yourself. I know you like fancy things and fancy women. But other than that, you haven’t been the most forthcoming with the details.”

  “I haven’t?” he asked, feigning surprise.

  “Nope. Spill your soul to me, Jacks,” I ordered, nuzzling his ear with my nose.

  “Jesus.” His hold on me tightened. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

  Unable to control myself, I started giggling again. “Your fine ass better tell me what I want to know.”

  “Okay,” he replied, laughing. “I like nice restaurants, expensive wines, and traveling all over the world. Obviously, I’m fond of Corvettes. And when I’m not working, I like to go skiing or listen to music.”

  “What kinds of music do you like?”

  “I like everything. Jazz, rock, rap, classical, alternative—I listen to it all.”

  “That’s like me! I listen to an eclectic mix of anything and everything.” I squeezed my hands around his neck. “Hey! We have something in common.”

  “We have more in common than you think.”

  “What is your favorite song?”

  “My favorite song?” he repeated. “That’s a hard choice.”

  “Yep.”

  “Honestly, it’s probably a tie between ‘All Along The Watchtower’ by Jimi Hendrix and ‘Work Song’ by Hozier.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” I gasped.

  “What?”

  “Both of those are in my top ten list of favorite songs.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes!”

  “Okay then, what is your favorite song?” he asked.

  “‘Interlude’ by London Grammar.”

  “I’ve never heard it.”

  I sighed loudly. “That song speaks to me on every level.”

  “Then
I’ll make sure to listen to it.”

  “You should,” I added. “You want to know what my ex used to tell me?”

  “Sure.”

  “He used to tell me I was a Whitesnake song in heels.”

  “That’s actually a fairly accurate description.” Jackson set me in the passenger seat of his car and made sure I was buckled in safely before sliding into the driver’s seat.

  The ride from Miller’s to the apartment was fuzzy. Buildings flitted past my window, bleeding into one another as we sped down the road. After a few minutes, Jackson pulled in front of my place. “That’s me.”

  “Here, I’ll help you inside.”

  As he carried me up the steps to my door, I found myself not wanting to say good night, at least not yet. “You can come inside and cuddle with me if you want. I won’t bite.”

  “In your state, I’d feel as if I was taking advantage of the situation.”

  “Oh.”

  “I have too much respect for you to do something like that.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  “I really had a wonderful time with you tonight. Thank you for the pleasure of your company.”

  “I had fun too. Thank you for dinner, by the way. It was absolutely delicious.”

  “Good night, Wren.” He kissed my cheek briefly, the scent of his cologne overpowering my senses in the best way possible.

  “Night, Jacks.” I closed the door as he walked down the stone steps and leaned against the wall with a heavy sigh. Tonight, was nothing short of incredible. My only wish was that Jacks hadn’t left. I started my night wanting a one-night stand and ended it simply needing to feel his touch.

  chapter five

  you should know

  I ROLLED OUT OF bed, lured by the siren call of freshly brewed coffee. When I entered the kitchen, Terayn was already sipping her first cup.

  “You’re up early!”

  I whined loudly, “Don’t remind me.”

  “So, how did it go last night? You got back sooner than I expected.”

  “That would make two of us.”

  “What do you mean? Didn’t he take you back to his place?” she asked, confused.

  “Nope. We had dinner at Everest and then I took him to Miller’s Pub for a few drinks.”

  “You took Jackson to Miller’s Pub?” Her doe eyes widened in shock.