by Isabel North
Hot.
Holding her down as he moved inside her.
Crap. Now she was sweating. She didn’t speak to him. She couldn’t. If she opened her mouth and tried to say anything, all she’d do was moan.
Derek shifted his large body behind her. Under cover of the messenger bag she wore slung over her shoulder, he slid a hand around her hip. The curve of her hipbone fit in the hollow of his palm. His fingers spread wide, and tantalizingly low. He held her, grip firm.
Heat rushed through her.
Don’t freak out. No one can see. Jenny stared at the display case as if the meaning of life rested within.
Why was Megan taking so long to make her coffee?
One of Derek’s boots tapped Jenny’s heel. Without thinking, she widened her stance.
Big mistake.
He nudged her foot farther to the side, and eased a leg between hers. Subtly. It wasn’t like he bent her over the display case or anything. The line behind them was packed tight enough that everyone was crowded close. He hadn’t done anything outrageous.
It just felt that way.
Jenny heaved in a breath and cautiously turned her head, making it seem as if she was looking for a free table. As she did, Derek turned toward her, making it seem as if he was looking down into the display case. She could see the scruff on his jaw, the steady pulse in his strong throat.
And the dimple in his cheek.
Bastard was enjoying himself. Standing there, examining the muffins and pastries, turning her on like nobody’s business. Turning her on with one hand on her hip, and one foot between hers.
That’s all it took.
All right. She was game.
Jenny shuffled back and leaned against him, full-length. “Oh,” she said, blinking up over her shoulder. “I’m sorry. How clumsy of me… Well, hey there, Derek.” She stepped forward, obliging him to release her hip.
“Jenny.”
“How are you?”
“Good. You?”
“Great. How’s your mom?” she asked brightly.
“Also great. Dad, too.”
Jenny clutched the strap of her messenger bag. “Come on, Megan,” she called. “Are you grinding the beans by hand? Individually?”
“I’m down a barista today. You’ll have to wait.”
The people in the queue behind them groaned.
“You’ll all have to wait,” Megan said.
“Excuse me a minute.” Derek slung a muscled arm around Jenny’s waist and tugged her into him as he leaned over and pretended to study the display case. “You’re blocking my view.”
He held her easily, tipping her off-balance and to one side so he had a clear line of sight to the display. “I’m in the mood for something sweet. Any suggestions?”
Jenny dug her fingers into his strong forearm. “Try the muffins.”
“Which one would you recommend?”
Jenny glanced around. No one seemed to be paying them any attention. “Chocolate chip.”
Derek sucked his teeth and made a tutting sound. “Not a huge chocolate fan.”
“Psychopath. Try the banana and walnut, then.”
“Eh.”
“Lemon and cranberry.”
“Well…”
“Blueberry.”
“Blueberry, huh? Sweet and juicy.” He turned and looked down, his eyes gleaming. “Just how I like it. Thanks.” He returned her to her original position as Megan set her coffee and muffins on the counter.
Jenny swayed and caught herself against the case front.
Scowling, Megan reached under the counter and pulled out a cloth, tossing it at Jenny. “Wipe your paw prints off my glass.”
Jenny snatched the cloth out of the air a second before it smacked her in the face. “What?”
“No-smudge rule. I’m serious. Paw prints off. Or I shall withhold.”
“Come on,” someone in the queue behind them said in a whiny tone.
“I shall withhold from you, too, if I hear another peep,” Megan called.
The whiner didn’t say anything else.
“You’re a jerk, Megan.” Jenny bent at the waist to clean the glass. Derek groaned as her butt made accidental contact with his groin. “Oops.” She turned and looked over her shoulder.
Derek’s eyes were dark and narrowed.
“Watch out back there,” she said. “I need some room to work.” This time the contact wasn’t accidental.
A possessive hand landed heavy at the base of her spine before he snatched it away.
Gotcha.
“Jesus,” Megan said. Then, “Think you’re done, Finley.”
Jenny tossed the cloth back at Megan and dug out her wallet. “What do I owe you?”
“Nine bucks.”
Jenny handed the money over. “Thanks.”
“Yeah. And next time, can you two be more subtle with the foreplay, please? This is a family place.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Ronnie and Abel unloaded the garden center truck and drove off. Jenny was setting the plants still in their pots out on the prepared bed, deciding on the precise arrangement, when Dean came striding across the lawn.
Again? “I thought you were living in Mayfield,” she said, putting a large rosemary to one side and tucking her work gloves into her belt. “Why are you always here?”
“I’m not always here. This is the third time. And I can’t stay long.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Jenny, I’ve been thinking.”
“Less good.”
Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and toed at the grass. “You’re making changes I’m not happy with.”
“Is this about Derek again?”
“Yes, it’s about Derek. It’s about Derek taking my place.”
“Dean…are you jealous?”
He gritted his teeth.
Jenny couldn’t help it. She laughed. “I cannot believe you’re jealous. You don’t have the right to be jealous of the man I’m with.”
“Maybe not. I think I do have the right to be cautious about the man my daughter spends her time with, which is what she’ll be doing if you get serious with Tate.”
Jenny’s lizard brain woke up, sensing danger.
Dean continued, “I guess I didn’t see this coming, Jenny. I never pegged you as the happily-ever-after kind of woman. You’re an amazing mother, and that seemed to be enough. You’re hardly romantic. I figured that having a guy around wasn’t a big deal for you. You were never much into sex after Kate. As for intimacy, forget about it. You’re too independent. I don’t think you ever let me in. Half the time we were married I felt superfluous.”
“Half the time we were married, you were absent. You were at a poker game. Or the track. How many times did you go to Vegas and tell me it was a work trip…?”
Dean took his hands from his pockets and held them up in the air, stepping back. “I didn’t come here to fight. I came to set up a meeting. Which, by the way, I could have accomplished with a simple call if you’d give me your phone number.”
“A meeting?”
“A drink. Casual. Nothing to worry about, nothing formal. And I don’t want you to freak out, but I’ll be bringing my lawyer.”
“What?”
“You’re freaking out.”
“I’d be an idiot not to. Who brings a fucking lawyer to a casual meeting?”
“Someone who wants to ensure their rights are being taking into consideration.”
The top of Jenny’s head was going to blow off with rage. “You don’t have any rights.”
“We’ll see. I know that you’re struggling for money—”
“Do you now?”
“—which is why I wanted to give you some, if you’ll recall, but you refused. Don’t feel that you need to lawyer up, too. I know there’s no way you can afford it.”
Jenny stared at him, all smug and satisfied in his (current) financial superiority.
“Let’s take it one step at a time,” he s
aid. “I’m hoping that when we all get together, you’ll be reasonable.”
“Hard to feel reasonable when you’re threatening me, Dean.”
“I’m not threatening you. I’m making a statement. You have to take me seriously, and thus far I don’t think you’ve given my concerns any consideration whatsoever. My hope is that if you and I sit down and we have a lawyer present, purely in an observatory capacity, then you’ll focus on what’s important, get your head straight, and give me a chance.”
Jenny’s jaw had dropped at Dean’s staggering statement. When he finished talking, she held up a finger and said, “Give me a minute?”
Dean nodded encouragingly.
She waited until the adrenaline pumping through her system lowered from full boil to a gentle simmer. “Okay,” she said. “You’ve decided that you don’t want me to have a romantic life because you don’t want Kate to have another man as a father figure. And because you’re doing well financially and can afford it and you know that I’m not doing financially well and I can’t afford it, you want to take advantage and reopen the question of custody and/or visitation rights.”
“I’m not doing this to take advantage or because I don’t want you to have a romantic life. I’m doing this to protect Kate. And you, Jenny. I want to protect you, too.”
“I’m not yours to protect. And how long is this random protective urge going to last, anyway? Until the next bad bet? Which, gotta tell you, Dean, is a lot closer than you think, if you go ahead with this nonsense.”
Dean’s lips tightened.
“Do you even realize what you’re doing right now?” Jenny asked.
“Yes.”
“You realize you’re gambling with me?”
He laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”
“You think I don’t see what you’re doing?”
“I’m protecting my interests.”
“No. You’ve looked at your situation. You’ve looked at mine. Based on the disparity, you’re gambling that I can’t fight you. You’re trying to force me into giving in. Giving you a say in my life. A say you absolutely do not deserve.”
Dean didn’t deny it.
Jenny shook her head. “Remember that you dealt these cards.”
She was still fuming an hour after Dean had left, having agreed to meet him at Kurt’s in two days.
Dean’s biggest problem? He was never satisfied. Jenny had been willing, if reluctant, to allow him back into Kate’s life in some small measure. But this, pushing to gain some control over them?
No.
Scratch that. Dean’s biggest problem wasn’t that he was never satisfied. That was his second biggest problem. His biggest problem was that the man couldn’t bluff for shit.
That’s what all his bluster was. A bluff. A knee-jerk reaction to seeing her moving on, to realizing what he’d lost.
Like it or not, Derek Tate was going to have what Dean had thrown away. And there was nothing Dean could do about it.
Unless he pulled a dick move like this one.
The thing was, while Dean couldn’t bluff, Jenny could. So she’d agreed, and Dean had no idea what kind of anvil she was going to drop on his head.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Derek. Someone to see you.” Dani rapped her knuckles on the side panel of the Chevy Derek was under.
Derek wheeled out, expecting to see Jenny. Hoping to see Jenny. That hope evaporated when, instead of muddy boots, a small pair of shiny black stilettos came into view.
One toe was tapping, giving him a flash of red soles. Slender legs disappeared into a narrow black pencil skirt, into which was tucked a sleeveless rose silk blouse that revealed toned arms. Lila was looking good, as always.
Her expression, unusually, was not so good.
“Get up, Tate,” she snapped. “You and I have to talk.”
Derek stood. “I’m up. Talk.”
“To be clear, when I said we have to talk, I meant you’re going to listen and I’m going to yell. You want me to do it here? Or shall we take this somewhere more private?”
Derek didn’t want Lila yelling at him anywhere, but the tension rolling off her in waves suggested it was going to happen anyway. “I’d prefer to contain it.” He gestured her toward the office.
“What—” he began as the door clicked shut behind them.
Lila stepped into him, one hand on his chest, and shoved him back against it. The breath whooshed out of him. Derek blinked.
She was strong for such a little thing.
Fuck that, Lila Baxter was strong, period.
“You,” she yelled, “are an asshole!”
She was also loud.
“Lila, calm down. Don’t try to chest-bump me, you nut, you’re too short. And you’ll hurt your boobs. I said don’t.” He moved her aside. “What is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? I like that. What is wrong with you? I stumbled across an interesting piece of information this morning, Derek. So interesting, I had to run right over here and hear it from the source because I don’t want to believe it. I really don’t.”
Derek crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at her. “What Jenny and I do is none of your damn business.”
She jerked her head back. “None of my business? It’s all my business, mister. All.”
“None. Our sex life is private.”
Lila burst out laughing. “Bitch, please. Jenny tells me everything.”
Derek shook his head slowly. No, she didn’t.
Lila scowled. “She won’t tell me anything, and that is not cool, but man is she private. If you’d care to share, please do.” She waited. “No? Shame. I’m not even talking about your stupid hot nasty sex life, anyway. I’m talking about you being about to lose your goddamn business, making my girl two for two when it comes to loser men who can’t keep their finances straight.”
“My finances are even less your business than my hot nasty sex life.”
“You’re right. Except for when your finances threaten Jenny’s future. What’s going on, Derek? This place—” Lila encompassed the garage with another of her extravagant hand gestures, “—is listed for sale. And not by you.”
“It shouldn’t be listed anymore. Marshall promised he’d take it down.”
“I can assure you it is, and he didn’t.”
“Goddammit.” Derek sat on the edge of his desk and gripped the back of his neck, staring at the floor.
“Talk to me,” Lila said.
“Marshall Rawlings, Harry’s son and the owner of the building, wants to retire to Texas. His wife wants a nice big house, and the house has got to have a pool, so Marshall’s selling this building, and putting my business and my employees’ jobs at risk.”
“I can understand the pool. I hear it gets hot in Texas.”
“Lila.”
“Okay. He’s selling. You’re not buying?”
“I’m trying. Got turned down for the loan, but it was a lot. No surprise there. Martin Bradford at the bank said he’ll get me the max he can, but everything depends on me convincing Marshall to take a smaller amount—and a smaller pool for his wife—and a regular income to cover the rest.”
Lila perched next to him. “Think he’s gonna go for it?”
“I don’t know. I thought so. We had an understanding. He likes the idea of Rawlings’ Auto Repairs continuing on, thinks of it as some sort of family legacy. Hard to believe he’s sincere about it anymore. He said he’d get Lassiter to take the listing down, and that obviously hasn’t happened.”
“Lassiter? I know him. Guy’s a prick. Great real estate agent. Total prick. He’ll do anything for a big fat commission.” She dragged out the word anything, opening her eyes wide and nodding. “Which he won’t get if Rawlings sells to you. Trust me, he’s running around trying to come up with a better offer.” She nudged Derek with a shoulder. “Tag me in.”
“Tag you…?”
“You are sweet as honey, boy, but you do not know how shit is done. You an
d Marshall do your gentlemanly agreement family legacy crap. I’ll get in the ring with Lassiter and I will knock that fucker clean out the fight.”
Lila leaned into her hands and swung her legs. “You have to understand something, Derek. I love Jenny like a sister. I want her to be happy. Her mom left when she was six, her dad was an alcoholic, her husband turned out to be a gambling addict. Her life has been a mix of bad luck and bad choices. But you?” She shrugged. “I’ve never seen her this happy. You make her happy. I want her to stay that way, her and Kate. And I’m ruthless when it comes to getting what I want.”
“I am aware.”
“We didn’t run in the same circles, but d’you remember me in high school?”
He nodded.
“Adolescence was not kind to me. When you’re the fat chick with orthodontics and glasses, it’s brutal. You either put your head down and you get through it. Or you raise hell. I went with hell, and Jenny rode shotgun. She had my back, every damn day. She always has. I’ve got hers. Tag me in.”
Derek thought about it. “I don’t want Jenny to know,” he said abruptly. “It’s taken forever to get her to take a chance on me, and she’s cautious, Lila. She’s worried about how Kate’s going to take having a new guy in her life instead of Dean—”
“Pfft. Kate loves you.”
“Yeah? She’s pretty great, isn’t she?”
“Kate’s adaptable. She will not be an issue.”
“Marshall’s timing sucks. The woman of my dreams is finally free, and practically on the same day Marshall pulls the rug out, leaving me about as attractive a prospect as Dean.
“I want her for good, Lila. How am I supposed to manage that if I lose the building? Even if I pin Marshall down and get him to sell to me, I’ll be asking Jenny to trust herself—and her daughter—to a man with enormous debt. I know I can make it work. But do you think she’ll be able to see any difference between me and Dean?”
“There’s a huge difference. Dean is a compulsive gambler. He’s up, he’s down. He’s here, he’s gone. You’re a rock. You’re just going to be a rock with a bitch of a mortgage.”
“Will Jenny see it that way?”
Lila chewed her lip. “Eventually,” she said.
“Yeah. When will ‘eventually’ kick in? After five more years of me chasing her? I want our life now. I want a home and a family with her now. I used to think I was a patient man, but I’ve got to tell you, when it comes to Jenny Finley?” He shook his head. “I’m all out of patience.”