Busted (Promise Harbor Wedding)

by Sydney Somers

  “Jackson?”

  He closed his eyes, then pushed a finger inside her, retracing the path back to her clit, stroking and rubbing until she was drenched.

  Her nails scraped the bark, and she writhed in his arms, her breaths coming faster. She trapped her lip between her teeth, biting down as he played with her, pushing her closer to the edge.

  Tension turned her body taut, and with another flick of his fingers across her clit, she shuddered, going wild as her orgasm hit. Moments later, she sagged into the tree.

  Almost drowning in the need hammering his system, he brushed her hair aside and pressed his lips to her neck, lingering there until he could draw a breath that didn’t rob him of all rational thought.

  It took a lot longer than it should have.

  Hayley was a no-show.

  Jackson scanned the crowded bar, searching for a glimpse of the blonde he couldn’t get out of his head. At least two hundred people had shown up for Kyle’s benefit so far and there didn’t seem to be an end to the steady trickle of traffic pouring into Stone’s.

  But none of them were Hayley.

  After they’d left Sunset Bluff yesterday, he’d been desperate to strip her down and finish what they’d started. The walk back to the truck had been borderline excruciating, his hard-on refusing to go down even a little.

  He’d been ready to explode by the time he got her into the shower, where she’d gone down on him. They hadn’t even finished getting cleaned up before he dragged her out of there, intent on finding a bed and getting her beneath him. He’d made it four feet down the hall before the urge to be inside her had trumped everything else. Against the wall, he pushed up into her for just a second, and fuck it had felt amazing.

  Almost as amazing as keeping her close when she’d finally fallen asleep. There was no way he was letting her sneak out on him again. Not that she didn’t try. She just didn’t get very far before he dragged her on top of him.

  “Great turnout, huh?” Matt flashed the smile of a man who could appreciate the added business.

  Hawks hockey jerseys flashed blue and white around the room, identifying the kids here to support Kyle. The kid of the hour was hanging out next to the buffet table—along with most of the players, actually. Every once in a while a parent had to step in when they got a bit rowdy, but Jackson had to give them credit for behaving and sticking close to Kyle.

  The bar was hopping, and Jackson enjoyed the temporary breather from his spot behind the bar.

  “Nice digs.”

  Jackson ignored Matt.

  His friend laughed. “Bernice dressed you, didn’t she? You could have ended up in something worse than a Hawks jersey. She could have made you wear one of those hideous bridesmaid dresses.”

  Truthfully, Jackson couldn’t decide what outfit would have been worse. The jersey made him much too identifiable in the crowd, and he would have preferred to blend in. Everyone was supposed to see the merchandise, though, according to Bernice. He’d been fully prepared to argue with her about the jersey being overkill when Coach had come along, insisting he should be proud to wear it. Guilt trip all the way.

  “He was playing you, you know?”

  “I know.” Jackson picked Coach out in the crowd. He was sitting in a wheelchair at a table next to Matt and Hayley’s mother. Coach didn’t give a rat’s ass what Jackson wore. The old man just wanted to watch him squirm.

  “How come he thinks you and Hayley are a real couple?”

  Jackson shrugged. “People talk.”

  That apparently wasn’t gonna flying with Matt. “Why did you guys let him believe that?”

  “He was going to cut off Jackson’s pecker.”

  They both turned at the sound of the voice.

  Nurse Trudy pushed her empty glass toward them. “Refill of Bromance Ale, please.”

  Jackson gaped, unsure whether he should ask her what the hell she was talking about, or protect his groin.

  Matt refilled the glass, waiting until the nurse returned to Coach’s table. “What was that about?”

  “I have no idea.” And frankly he had the feeling he was better off not knowing.

  “Gramps couldn’t figure out why Hayley was fine with you being in the auction, so he gave her two hundred dollars to make sure she wins you.”

  “He did what?”

  Matt nodded. “Pulled it from under the mattress in his hospital room.” Matt filled another drink and turned back to him. “You nervous?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then why have you been drying that glass for three full minutes?”

  He countered that with another question. “Why would I be nervous?”

  “Maybe you’re worried she won’t show.” Matt frowned, looking a little stunned by the possibility he might be right.

  Jackson shrugged. “She’s my cover, right?”

  “Sure she’s not more than that?”

  Setting aside the glass before Matt made any more assumptions about what it meant, he wiped at the counter. “It’s not… We’re not serious like that.”

  Matt folded his arms like he was settling in to be convinced. More than a little disconcerted, Jackson opted to say nothing. It would be better than dismissing the whole thing and come off sounding like a dick and angering his friend.

  That made way more sense than allowing himself to wonder if there was anything to what Matt said, and whether or not he was the one who had ended up a little over his head.

  “Our next bachelor is Matt Stone.” Bernice’s voice carried above the crowd, and Jackson nearly sighed in relief.

  Matt clapped him on the back. “Whatever is going on, just know that I love you, bro. But if you break my sister’s heart I’m going break your legs. And cut off your pecker.” Grinning, he hopped over the bar and was swallowed by the crowd.

  Jackson poured drinks, ignoring the nervous tension spinning figure eights in his stomach as the bidding on Matt started. Everyone had turned away from the bar to watch the two women caught up in a bidding war for Matt.

  Six hundred dollars later, Matt went to the petite brunette Jackson remembered from the wedding reception.

  And that wasn’t good because that meant Jackson was next, and Hayley still hadn’t arrived.

  “Dressed to kill, Stone.”

  Hayley grinned at Gauthier’s comment, laughing when the lemon doughnut he was eating squirted a glob of yellow jelly down the front of the detective’s shirt. He scooped it up on his finger and shoved it in his mouth, then motioned for her to spin.

  She rolled her eyes but accommodated the simple request, enjoying the breezy feeling of the cotton summer dress flowing around her knees. The snug black and white material hugged her from breasts to hips, then dropped in flattering waves. She’d only worn it once before and was glad she’d discovered it at the back of the closet at her apartment.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be at the benefit?”

  “Just running a little late.” Not unheard of when she mixed work with renovations. She’d lost track of time while painting her nan’s sewing room, preferring to do that room herself.

  She grabbed her forgotten cell phone off her desk, and when she turned back around, Gauthier was already walking away, probably heading for the bathroom to clean his shirt off.

  “Hayley,” the rookie from the other night walked toward her, a couple in their midforties trailing close behind. “Could you show this couple down the hall? I’m going to send Gauthier in to talk to them. Our favorite felon struck again.”

  “May I?” She took the file he held out, skimming the preliminary notes on the break-in at their rented condo and reported loss of nearly two thousand dollars in cash. Clearly not credit card or travelers check people. She noted the address, putting it in a more upscale tourist area that their thief hadn’t ventured into before now.

  Resisting the urge to volunteer to interview them in more depth herself, she motioned for them to precede her down the hall. “Detective Gauthier will be right with you.”
/>
  “Aren’t you the cop who—”

  Hayley inwardly braced for “…is dating that hockey player.”

  “—chased down the burglar a couple nights ago?” The woman pointed to the stitches at Hayley’s hairline.

  Relieved that their recognition had nothing to do with Jackson, she nodded. Maybe she had gotten too caught up in what people thought, forgetting her work spoke for itself.

  “I think we should talk to you instead.”

  Hayley glanced at her watch, knowing she was going to be cutting it awfully close. “No problem.”

  She led them into the small conference room, making a few additional notes and trying to figure out why the couple appeared familiar. At first she thought maybe they’d been in town for the wedding, but a memory of seeing them with Eric at Stone’s earlier this week solved the mystery.

  Forty-five minutes later Hayley hurried up the steps to Stone’s. Finding a spot had been impossible, forcing her to park a few blocks down.

  She walked right into a wall of people standing around. Apologizing, she squeezed past them just as she spotted Jackson on the makeshift stage where the dance floor normally was.

  She grinned, her smile falling almost just as quickly as the auctioneer she couldn’t see announced, “Sold!”

  Chapter Twelve

  Bernice had won Jackson. Shit.

  Hayley stared as the crowd surged forward, some laughing and high-fiving Bernice, others just shaking their heads when they noticed her nearby. She forced a smile, a little stunned to find she had to make an effort to pull it off.

  She hadn’t planned on bidding at the start, and yet somewhere between then and now she’d decided to go ahead, and she was too late.

  “Did you two break up?”

  She ignored the question from a woman next to her, telling herself she wasn’t that disappointed. She and Jackson weren’t a real couple like everyone else believed. He wasn’t staying in Promise Harbor. So why was her stomach in knots at the thought of him going on a pointless date with anyone else?

  Hayley gave up on trying to get through the crowd when she spotted Bernice throwing her arms around Jackson. Why couldn’t someone else have won him, anyone else? Someone who wouldn’t set out to rub it in Hayley’s face.

  Retreating to the bar, where the crowd was a little thinner, she slipped behind the counter. She didn’t wait for Matt to ask for help. She jumped right into filling drink orders. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes before Jackson found her.

  He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hi.”

  “Hey.” She set a glass of wine in front of the woman standing opposite her. “Guess I missed all the action. I got hung up at work,” she added when he didn’t say anything.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Another robbery case.” She wouldn’t know if they were connected until she reviewed the security footage outside the condo that they’d have access to in the morning.

  “No big deal.” He shrugged, his shoulders stiff despite the dismissive gesture. “Not like you were going to bid anyway, right?” He offered another smile, this one noticeably forced.

  She’d disappointed him, she realized. He’d been expecting her, although he had to know she would’ve had to empty her savings account to have been able to compete with Bernice.

  “You wouldn’t want to get in over your head anyway.”

  “Jackson…” she began, not sure what to say to that. That she wished she’d made it on time? That maybe it was for the best?

  Bernice waved to Jackson, and with a nod to Hayley he walked toward the grinning real estate agent when they both knew he would have rather faced a media firing squad. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have sworn he wanted to make her jealous, which was ridiculous.

  Even more ridiculous was that it was almost working.

  Annoyed with herself, she stacked a bin with dirty glasses and carried them into the kitchen. She narrowly avoided a collision with Matt on the way back out front.

  He stopped. “Shit.”

  “What?” She glanced around, hunting for the problem.

  “You’re disappointed.”

  “No.” Maybe a little, but like Jackson said, it wasn’t a big deal.

  Matt shook his head. “You’re also a shitty liar.” He searched her eyes, and whatever he was thinking, she hoped he wasn’t going to say. “Be careful.”

  No such luck. “That’s not necessary. We’re not serious.”

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  From Jackson obviously. Good. Then they were both on the same page. That had to be a good thing, right? Her stomach disagreed with a nervous twist that unsettled her.

  “Sometimes things change, Hayls.”

  “Sometimes they don’t. He’s waiting for that coaching job and then he’s gone.” And that was the bottom line. She had to keep reminding herself of that. What happened between them wouldn’t change that.

  “What if you’re wrong?” Matt walked away, leaving her to stare after him and wonder where that had come from.

  “Refill, Hayley?”

  She turned at the sound of the voice, happy to have something to do that she didn’t have to think about. For the next two hours she helped Matt and the two waitresses working tonight. When the crowd started to die down, she signaled to Matt that she was heading out.

  She didn’t know where Jackson was and decided she preferred a little time to clear her head anyway. Whenever he was close she struggled to remember where the two of them stood. Winning him would have just blurred the lines even more.

  Wishing she could convince herself of that, she walked down the street toward her truck.

  Across the street she glimpsed Bernice digging a box out of her trunk. Bernice paused next to the front of her car and snatched the piece of paper from beneath the wiper. “Another ticket?” she growled under her breath. She stuffed the piece of paper in her purse and continued back to Stone’s with her box.

  It was then Hayley noticed Bernice had parked next to a fire hydrant.

  Hayley stared after the woman who’d won a date with Jackson tomorrow night. Maybe she wasn’t quite ready to throw in the towel just yet.

  The next morning Jackson, having just finished choosing new hardware for the kitchen cabinets at Coach’s place, turned to find Bernice in the aisle right behind him. The small aisle in Bert’s Hardware was not the place he wanted to find himself up close and personal with Bernice Cabot.

  Resigned to their date, he nodded to the can of paint in her hand. “Doing some renovations of your own?”

  “Just picking something out for a client.”

  “We didn’t get to talk about what time you wanted me to pick you up tonight?” She’d insisted on getting his number to call him—and let him know how much they’d raised for Kyle, of course.

  Her expression instantly darkened. “Hayley didn’t tell you?”

  “No.” He was almost afraid to ask.

  “She bought my date with you.” Bernice didn’t do a great job of masking the bitterness in her voice. A moment later she smiled, the gesture entirely practiced.

  He could understand the need for that in her line of work.

  “That’s too bad,” he lied, just as familiar with putting on a good front. He’d relied on that last night when he came across Hayley after Bernice had won him. “I’m glad you asked me take part in Kyle’s benefit. I’m sure it wouldn’t have been nearly as successful without you running point.”

  Her face lifted. “Hopefully the autograph signing will go off without a hitch tomorrow. All of the advance tickets for the presigning are sold out.”

  “I’m sure it will.” Regardless of the fact that he wasn’t looking forward to it quite as much as everyone else. He’d probably be more enthusiastic about talking about his hockey career if the signing were after his interview with the Sentinels and he could mention the coaching position.

  Sticking around Promise Harbor after the wedding hadn’t been part of the plan a
nd had certainly come with its own complications. Complications that were easier to forget in the face of hearing what Hayley had done.

  By the time he’d helped Matt close up the bar last night, he’d been too wiped to drive over to see Hayley, and he hadn’t been entirely sure she wanted to see him. He’d planned to head over there as soon as he finished picking up the new fixtures, and now even that didn’t feel like soon enough for him.

  Bernice’s phone rang, sparing him from making an excuse to end their conversation. He paid for the supplies and headed back to Coach’s place. He couldn’t find Hayley in the house and, leaving everything in the kitchen, went in search of her.

  He found her—or more precisely found her legs—under her truck. She had driven the vehicle up on ramps and had a tool box open beneath her on the ground.

  “Miss your calling as a mechanic?”

  She wiggled out from under the truck. “Just checking out an oil leak.” If she hadn’t said a word, the greasy smear on her cheek would have given it away.

  “When were you going to tell me?”

  “I didn’t think you’d care about oil stains in the driveway.”

  He scoffed. “Not what I meant.”

  “Oh, you’re talking about Bernice and the whole auction thing.” From her seat on the ground, she poked through her toolbox.

  Playing innocent wasn’t her strong suit, he decided. “Yeah, that.”

  “I probably would have told you before you left to get Bernice.”

  “Probably?”

  She shrugged, and climbed to her feet. “Might have been fun to see you squirm out on a date with Bernice.”

  “Your idea of fun is a bit warped.” He gestured to her cheek. “You have oil on your face.”

  “Oh?” She looked at her hand, then unexpectedly reached out to smear her palm across his cheek. “Now you do too.”

  He grabbed for her, but she was already running away laughing. It only took twenty feet or so for him to close the distance and catch her around the waist. She twisted in his arms, but he wasn’t giving her the chance to use any of her police training to throw him off. He put all his weight into taking her to the ground.