Busted (Promise Harbor Wedding)

by Sydney Somers

  “I’m not leaving without you, and how good is it going to look if I have to be taken back to the station?”

  “We’re almost done, Hayley.” Phil stood with his hands on his hips, his gaze trained on her forehead. “Go.”

  “Please,” Jackson added. The worry in his eyes was the only thing that kept her from snapping at him.

  “Fine.” She glanced at her partner. “If you find anything…” she began.

  “You’ll be the first to know,” Phil agreed.

  Grudgingly, she let Jackson usher her to the truck. With one more frustrated glance at the house, she slid onto the seat, stewing all the way to the emergency room about having been so close to wrapping up the investigation.

  They must have been expecting her and motioned her through the doors, past triage, getting her settled on a gurney in record time. She wanted to apologize to the teenager with his arm in a sling and an elderly woman for being seen before them, but Jackson didn’t give her a chance.

  He could be a pushy son of a bitch when he wanted to be, apparently. Almost intimidating. No wonder some players would drop with an exaggerated injury to avoid getting into it with him on the ice.

  Jackson stayed right by her side, glaring at her impatiently when she wanted to get up instead of sitting while she waited for a doctor to check her out. It was the dizziness, she told herself, that kept her on her butt, and not the warning look Jackson shot her for moving.

  “I’m fine,” she said. A few stitches was minor, and everyone knew head injuries bled like a bitch, making them appear much worse than they were.

  “You gave me a scare tonight.”

  The comment surprised her. She’d been expecting him to make some smartass comment offering to help her change into a hospital gown or something else that involved her being naked.

  A doctor she recognized from being a regular at Stone’s pulled back the curtain and stepped inside. “Rough night, Detective?”

  “I’ve had better.”

  He looked her over. “Could be worse. Could have ended up with another cracked rib like the last on-foot pursuit of a suspect.”

  No one was ever going to let her forget the boardwalk incident. She’d had an opening and took it. Any other officer would have done the same in her position, regardless of the guy being armed.

  She knew she was better off staying quiet while he did his job. Jackson picked up the slack, chatting about the NHL draft, all the while staying right next to her. The sight of the needle required for the anesthetic didn’t worry her, but Jackson still slipped his hand into hers, giving a reassuring squeeze when she cursed at the icy burn from the drug.

  Eight stitches later, the doctor finished and disappeared to treat other patients. The curtain hadn’t had a chance to settle back into place before it was jerked open.

  Gramps stood there, frowning at the two of them.

  Wonderful.

  “You need to catch that bastard, Hayley,” her gramps growled.

  “She came close. Too close, maybe.”

  She didn’t share Jackson’s opinion on that and didn’t bother reminding him that she was okay. She just wanted to get out of there. Hayley stood up, and had to grab the edge of the bed to steady herself.

  “Doc,” her gramps yelled, his booming voice carrying down the hall of the otherwise quiet emergency room. “Something’s still wrong with her.”

  “No, there’s not. I took a hit to the head. A little dizziness is normal.”

  “She’s right,” Jackson said. “I’ve had a concussion before, and if she does have a minor one, which the doctor wasn’t worried about, she just needs some rest and a good dose of pain reliever.”

  Gramps didn’t look convinced, which surprised her given the number of kids he’d seen take a knock to the head over the years. Concerned eyes bored into her.

  “I’m okay. Promise,” she added softly. She didn’t need him worrying about her.

  “Hmmph. Who’s looking after you tonight?” His gaze switched to Jackson. “You?”

  Belatedly, she remembered that Jackson didn’t know she’d told Gramps they were involved, and was quick to answer for him. “Yes. Let’s get you back to your room.”

  Her grandfather waved her off. “I found my way down here. I can find my way back.” He planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “Make sure you get some ice on that goose egg, pumpkin.”

  “I will.”

  “And you.” He narrowed his eyes at Jackson. “I expect you to come see me tomorrow.”

  Jackson grinned. “Yes, sir.”

  Hayley waited until her gramps left, having every intention of following him to make sure he got back to his room okay. She hadn’t taken a step, however, before Jackson turned her around, forcing her to sit.

  “You stay here while I make sure he gets back.”

  Nodding, she stared at his retreating back, wondering how many more times he’d surprise her.

  From the passenger seat Hayley tried to ignore how good Jackson looked behind the wheel of her truck. And a little too comfortable. She’d been fine to drive, but like everything else in the last hour, her opinion didn’t count for much.

  “Where are we going?” He’d turned at the intersection, taking the direction opposite the one to her grandfather’s place.

  “Back to my parents’ place.”

  “So I can drop you off,” she guessed, thinking that was probably the best thing he’d said all night.

  “Not quite. You’re staying with me tonight.”

  “I only said that to appease Gramps. I’ll be perfectly okay on my own.”

  He shrugged. “You can stay with me or I can drop you off at Matt’s.”

  They both knew Matt would be busy at work for another couple of hours at least. “I don’t need a babysitter.” She folded her arms across her chest, trying not to let him get to her. It wasn’t working.

  “If I take you to your grandfather’s, you’re going to try to work.”

  “I don’t think I’m up for painting right now.”

  “Probably not, but once you get stewing about not catching that guy, you’ll get restless and look for something to do instead of resting.”

  She hated that he was right, and was even more annoyed than he seemed to know it too. He slanted her a shrewd grin, and she offered a scowl in return.

  Jackson laughed and thankfully didn’t try to get her to talk for the rest of the drive. By the time they turned down his parents’ street, she was mentally replaying the robbery scene in her head, trying to figure out how he’d gotten away on them.

  Her body moved on autopilot when the truck stopped, and she followed Jackson into the house.

  “Bathroom is down the hall. Why don’t you grab a shower and I’ll find you something to put on.”

  “Trying to get me naked in the first two minutes inside. Shocking.”

  That trademark grin widened, reminding her why he’d become such a fan favorite. He oozed charm and likability to a dangerous degree. Dangerous for her, anyway.

  She followed his directions to a large bathroom, complete with jet-powered tub and separate shower stall enclosed in frosted glass. She passed her reflection and tried not to wince.

  Her clothes were soaked and stained with dirt and blood. Her hair had taken the most damage, clumping together in sections at the front, closest to the cut. She bit her lip, probing at the nasty bump at her hairline. Bastard got her good.

  Sticky, sweating and all-around uncomfortable, she hastily turned on the shower and stripped out of her clothes. The hot water felt heavenly, as long as she was careful to keep the water from hitting her cut. Washing her hair turned out to be tricky, but she managed without cursing more than a few times.

  Over the splash of the water, she heard a knock at the door. Jackson strolled in a second later. The frosted glass didn’t offer much in the way of a barrier, but it was better than nothing.

  “Would have been surprised if you hadn’t poked your head in.”

  “He
re.” He opened the shower door and held out a palm with two tablets on it. “For your head.” He looked at the far wall despite every part of her being on display right in front of him.

  She took the pills and chased them down with a few sips from the glass of water he’d brought along. And then he was gone, closing the door behind him and letting her duck back under the warm spray.

  Hayley lingered in the shower until every muscle felt ready to melt and she’d steamed up the entire bathroom. A small pile of clothes sat on a chair by the door. She hadn’t heard or seen Jackson put them there.

  Once she had the oversize T-shirt on, she dried her hair with the towel, saving the pair of boxer shorts for last. They were too big, forcing her to roll the waist down to keep them from slipping off her hips.

  Her headache had eased a bit, and she emerged from the bathroom feeling much better than when she went in. She didn’t see Jackson in the hall. One by one, she checked the rooms, looking for him, until she came to what had to be his old bedroom. The life-sized poster of Wayne Gretzky on the closet door was a bit of a giveaway.

  That wasn’t the only thing his parents had left untouched once he’d moved out. Trophies and awards lined the walls and dresser top. Certificates of achievement in both sports and academics were displayed on one wall. Directly opposite that, Jackson had done his own decorating, complete with a couple swimsuit models and a Playboy bunny.

  She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh.

  “My dad has a more recent shrine of my talents in the rec room downstairs.”

  She turned at the sound of Jackson’s voice. He’d grabbed a quick shower himself, but hadn’t gotten around to putting on the T-shirt hanging by his side. Hayley drank in the sight of him without a shirt, shamelessly admiring the cut of his shoulders and biceps before letting her gaze wander down his chest.

  “You need this.”

  Did she ever. A day that ended with a trip to the ER deserved a kiss, didn’t it? Because that was the only thing she could think about when he stared at her mouth like he was thinking the exact same thing. A long, hungry kiss that would begin and end with his arms around her.

  It was then she noticed the ice pack in his hand.

  “Right.” How had she gone from wanting to drop him off and go home alone to thinking about what it would feel like to fall into Jackson’s bed, feel the weight of him pinning her to the mattress?

  It had to be the head injury, right? That was bound to shake her up, make her think things… Who the hell was she kidding? She’d been thinking about doing a whole lot more than just kissing long before this.

  She took the ice pack, laughing as he collapsed into a giant beanbag chair on the floor. He kicked at the other one closest to the closet, and she sank into the overstuffed bag far more carefully than he had.

  The change in position gave her a new perspective of the room, and she could all too easily picture Jackson hanging out here when he was a teenager, along with Matt and Josh.

  “Usually parents turn their kids’ rooms into a workout area or guest room, don’t they?” She barely touched the pack to her head, and already the cold was seeping through the protective fabric to make her injury throb.

  “I think mine were afraid that if they changed anything I wouldn’t want to come home to visit.” He glanced around the room. “That and they’re always on the road since Dad retired.” He leaned forward. “Here.”

  She handed off the pack, eager to be rid of it, only to wince when he held it to her bump. “It’ll only hurt for the first minute or so.”

  He might as well have said ten seconds, and even that was too much. She tried to squirm away from the growing discomfort without being obvious, but he caught on, gripping her waist to keep her in place.

  As far as distractions for pain went, it wasn’t so bad. The fresh, clean smell of his soap filled her senses, and she found herself leaning in to him. Her eyes drifted shut, his proximity both relaxing and exciting her. His breath warmed her neck, and she shivered, delightful goose bumps racing across her skin.

  “Do you want me to grab you a sweater?”

  She shook her head, cringing as she pushed too hard against the ice pack. Even that pain didn’t affect how good it felt sitting so close to Jackson, their knees touching, his hand at her waist, fingers gently gripping her every few seconds.

  Her eyes opened, and from beneath lowered lashes she mentally traced the angles and curves of his face, the bruises and swollen corner of his mouth doing absolutely nothing to detract from his handsomeness.

  Intense blue eyes slid to hers, and she quickly ducked her head, faking a yawn.

  “No sleeping. You could have a concussion.”

  “That’s not what you told Gramps. Besides, we both know I would be fine if I ended up falling asleep.”

  “We’re better off not taking the chance.”

  Hayley frowned. Why did it sound like he was up to something? She followed his gaze to where her hard nipples pressed against the borrowed T-shirt.

  “And what did you have in mind to pass the time?”

  He pursed his lips thoughtfully, then leaned even closer. Unchecked heat burned in his eyes.

  “Not a chance.” The words were far softer than she intended, like part of her knew full well that any kind of sex with Jackson, casual or otherwise, just might be worth it.

  Jackson reached past her, his jaw just brushing her cheek, and grabbed something off the shelf behind her. He dropped a deck of cards into her lap and smiled innocently. “What did you think I had in mind?”

  They both knew exactly what he’d wanted her to think a moment ago. God, he enjoyed teasing her. Smiling, Hayley didn’t offer anything he could use to put her on the spot.

  He wasn’t letting it go, though. His eyes widened, feigned shock written on his face. Although they were already touching, he brought his mouth as close as he could get without brushing his lips across hers. Her pulse jumped.

  “You didn’t think I would try and take advantage of you, did you?”

  A wise woman wouldn’t give him any more ammunition, so she waited for him to continue, doing her best to resist the urge to run her tongue over his bottom lip.

  “I think last night proved I don’t need to take advantage of you.”

  The temperature in the room shot up, and suddenly the ice wasn’t enough to stop the full-body flush that raced over her, warming every inch of her skin.

  “I’m going to grab us a drink.” Jackson was on his feet and out the door before the rest of her got the message that she was alone.

  She flopped all the way back in the beanbag chair and pressed the discarded ice pack against her chest. The back of her neck came next as she tried to cool herself off.

  He was back with two cans of soda, one of which he offered to her. The cool liquid felt incredible. She watched him shuffle the deck and deal out five cards to each of them.

  “A little five-card stud?”

  “Sure.” She wasn’t a bad poker player, but she wasn’t particularly good either. She’d lost a small chunk of change to some of the guys at the station before she’d learned her lesson.

  By the end of their first hand, she wound up with a pair of sevens, which he beat with a pair of kings.

  A wicked grin curved his lips. “Take something off, sweetheart.”

  No way. “What happened to not taking advantage of me?”

  “I said that I didn’t have to. Not that I wouldn’t.”

  Hayley paused, taking the deck to shuffle. “How many women have actually fallen for that line?” She dealt the next hand, going through the motions without thinking about it.

  Jackson laughed. “You’d be surprised.”

  She snorted. “I’d be surprised if their combined IQ was over a hundred.”

  “Cheap shot.”

  “No, that would be what you did to Rocky McLeod in the second round of playoffs three years ago.”

  Jackson leaned forward. “Come on. He plowed my center into
the net. The poor kid needed twenty-six stitches after that. Rocky had it coming.”

  Hayley only let her gaze slip away from his for a second. “And when you took down Shane Calvert for tripping you?”

  “He threw the first punch.”

  “Unlike the throw down between you and Freddie Hall during the opening game of the season four years ago.”

  Jackson frowned. “What did you do, keep a scrapbook?”

  She shrugged, making a last-minute decision about her cards. “Stone’s was full every game night you played, so Matt often needed the extra hand.”

  “How many games did you miss?”

  “Only a couple.” She smiled innocently.

  He searched her face, finally realizing that the more riled up he got, the more he tipped his cards just enough she could see them. “You cheater.”

  “Sorry, not feeling myself. Must be the flowerpot I took to the head.”

  He tossed the cards aside. “And you even managed to say that with a straight face. You’re clearly feeling better.”

  She started to laugh, but the sound quickly died away as he reached out to touch her cheek.

  “How’s your head?”

  “Pain meds are a beautiful thing.” Mostly. She had a mild headache, but it was manageable.

  “Still dizzy?”

  “No.” Not unless she counted the spinning in her head when he was only inches away.

  “Good.” Jackson slid two fingers beneath her chin, guiding her forward to meet his mouth.

  Chapter Ten

  Hayley whimpered, the sound hungry and needy, and stifled by a kiss soft enough to melt her into the chair.

  It was like they were back in high school and he’d just taken her by complete surprise all over again.

  Getting caught with the mascot costume would have spelled disaster, but being outed by Jackson would have made it that much worse. Not giving herself away when he’d crushed his mouth down on hers had been difficult. But not nearly as difficult as trying to act like the whole thing was no big deal. She’d failed horribly at that, clinging to him, taking as much from the moment of mistaken identity as she could for as long as it lasted.