The Queensbay Series: Books 1-4: The Queensbay Box Set

by Drea Stein

She took a deep breath, counted to ten, and told herself she could do this. It was part of being a grownup, part of dating, being able to play the game right, let someone down so that they got the picture but weren’t left with hurt feelings. How had Tory phrased it? “It’s not you, it’s me…” Time for a graceful exit speech, she supposed.

  Lynn came out of the bathroom and headed briskly down the hallway into the main room of the bar. Out of her peripheral vision she caught a glimpse of something. She stopped just before she hit it, but still managed to connect with something cold and slightly wet.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, looking up.

  Jackson stood there, looking down at her, a slight frown on his face, one hand holding a beer bottle away from her. There was a foamy head at the top, probably from the impact Lynn had had with it.

  “Here, let me get you a napkin,” Lynn said. She reached over to the bar, where there was a pile of small square, white napkins neatly stacked. She swiped a bunch and started to pat down Jackson’s sleeve.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, moving a little out of her reach. He was wearing a crisp white button down, a pair of dark wool slacks and dress shoes.

  “I thought you had other plans,” Lynn said, feeling silly holding the bunch of slightly damp napkins in her hand. She looked around and then set them down on the bar. She hazarded a look around. Unlike The Golden Pear, no one here seemed to take notice of Jackson and he seemed, relaxed even confident, with none of the tenseness that had radiated through his body the other day.

  She knew she should get back to Bode, but her curiosity at finding Jackson here was getting the better of her.

  “I did, but they fell through. I didn’t feel like sitting at home, so I thought I would come out and watch the game.”

  “The game?” Lynn asked.

  He pointed towards the baseball game.

  “You like baseball?” Lynn asked, knowing her voice sound more surprised than was polite.

  “Like, love it, used to play it.”

  “Really?” Lynn said, considering. So that explained the batting cage. She took a step back, assessing him. Sure, he was taller and lankier than a lot of baseball players and certainly a lot fitter than most of them, but she could see it now, a cap pulled low on his head, his eyes roving over the infield, assessing each player’s position, just waiting for one of them to make the wrong move.

  “Not since college, of course, but, yes I play it.”

  She nodded and was about to start back to the table where she’d been sitting with Bode, whose back was to her, intently looking at something on his phone.

  “You seem shocked,” he said, taking a sip of beer, his blue eyes watching her carefully over the rim of the bottle.

  She shrugged, not wanting to admit that she had been giving him that much thought. “You didn’t strike me as a guy who played a sport.”

  “I’m also a black belt in Taekwondo.”

  “Oh,” Lynn said, trying not to sound impressed. So maybe she did need to rethink her assessment of Jackson Sanders. Not quite the priss she’d thought.

  “How many sports do you play?” he asked.

  “Soccer, for a team sport. But I grew up out west, so I ski, climb, hike, and bike.”

  “That’s an impressive list. You sound quite active.” Jackson said.

  She looked at him quickly, wondering if he was being sarcastic, but he merely looked down at her. He seemed a little more at ease, a little more human now that he had ditched the full business suit. He looked almost cute, Lynn decided and then tamped down that feeling. He was evil. Ok, so maybe evil was overdoing it, but he was not a nice guy. She wasn’t about to just forgive him for his decision to close the clinic because he decided to smile at her. She was a stronger woman than that.

  “I like the outdoors. And climbing things. Trees, rocks, hills, that sort of stuff. Was that really your first time on a rock wall?” Lynn asked, curious to know.

  He looked at her and the faintest of smiles ghosted across his lips. “Second, if you count the time when I was ten at Boy Scout camp.”

  “Really? You were pretty good.”

  “Thanks, but I was just following you.”

  The compliment threw her off guard. She wasn’t expecting him to be nice and it was destroying the image she had of him.

  “I should go, get back to Bode,” she said, suddenly knowing she needed to pull herself away.

  “I thought you said this was a group thing?” he said, his voice casual.

  “Umm, sure it is. I mean Tory’s over there with Bode’s friend Greg, playing pool, but I guess it’s ok, I mean, yeah sure, come on over.” She knew she was stammering, but somehow Tory’s quick guide on dating hadn’t covered this scenario.

  “I was just teasing. Go, enjoy your date. I am sure Bode’s quite the interesting fellow.”

  “You have no idea,” Lynn almost shot back, then before she could say anything, she turned and walked away, knowing that her face was flaming.

  Bode had swiveled around and watched her coming.

  “What’s he doing here?” There was a querulous tone in his voice. Lynn stopped, surprised to realize that Bode and Jackson were eyeing each other like a pair of roosters in a chicken coop.

  Lynn threw one look over her shoulder. Jackson was watching her, and when he caught Bode’s eye, raised his beer bottle in a mock salute. Bode stared back at him and finally gave the barest of nods. She watched the whole thing like it was some sort of surreal show, not sure what to make of the testosterone pissing match going on.

  “He said he came to watch the game. His plans fell through,” Lynn said, hopping up on the barstool. She looked. Bode had gotten her another drink, but she was sure she didn’t want it. She was ready to go, before Bode and Jackson’s visual sparring turned into something worse. Her brother, Kyle, had once explained that sometimes guys just didn’t like each other, that it was just a guy thing, and that when that was the case you could never tell what would happen. It had never made sense to Lynn until she was in the middle of it.

  “Really?” Bode shot Jackson another look, this one dark and dangerous, and Lynn put out her hand on his arm to calm him.

  “It’s a small town. Not too many places to grab a beer and watch the game if you don’t feel like being on your own.”

  “Guess not.” Bode gave a smile and seemed to shrug Jackson off. Lynn was glad but she was also wondering just how she could get Tory’s attention and bring her back over so she could find a way to leave. She could feel a headache beginning to loom and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to go home, to her nice new bed in her nice new apartment, and go to sleep.

  “Well, where were we?” Bode said and he leaned in closer. Lynn was pretty sure they had been talking about hiking in the Catskill Mountains of upstate New York, but Bode seemed to think they had gotten much farther than that.

  His hand was sliding up her leg, inside the skirt that she was wearing. The shock of it had her frozen. His other arm snaked around her shoulders as he drew her in for a kiss. For a moment she didn’t quite get what was happening and then when she did realize it, she wondered why she didn’t like it.

  She pushed hard on his chest with her hands, managed to say, “Bode, I think maybe you should stop.”

  He pulled back for a moment and shot a look of disbelief at her. “Stop? If you didn’t want it, why did you come out with me? C’mon, not like we have a lot in common, except we both got good bodies and I would sure like to find out what yours feels like. I’ve been watching your ass climb that rock wall for weeks now and I’m ready to get my hands on it.”

  Lynn was too shocked to say anything, and Bode must have taken that as an opportunity because he went in for another kiss, his hand snaking its way even farther up her skirt.

  Bode tasted like beer and his lips were rough and his hand insistent. She pulled away, but he didn’t let her go, so she pushed harder. She fought down the first wave of panic. After all, they were in a bar
, and surely he would take the hint and just let her go. And if not, she knew what to do: she’d taken a self-defense class at the clinic and she just needed to remember whether she was supposed to go for the throat or the eyes first.

  She never got a chance to make a decision. There was a whish of air and a sudden moment, and she felt herself topple back, almost, but not quite, falling off the barstool.

  “What the hell?” Lynn said, looking down at the writhing form of Bode. Jackson stood there calmly, almost as if he hadn’t moved.

  Attracted by the sudden commotion, Tory and Greg materialized behind them.

  Bode rose to his feet and for a moment, Lynn thought nothing more was going to happen. But she underestimated Bode’s feelings on the matter. Without warning, he charged Jackson, who nimbly sidestepped him. Bode stumbled, almost fell, but Quent, who knew when trouble was brewing in his bar, caught him.

  “Hey now, what’s happening?” Quent’s voice loud and commanding brought the pub to a standstill.

  “It didn’t seem like he was acting like a gentleman,” Jackson said calmly. He looked Bode in the eye. “I believe the lady said no.”

  “Yeah, is that what you think? Then she shouldn’t be such a tease!” Bode shot back. At this, Jackson moved toward him but was stopped by one of Quent’s meaty hands.

  “There’s no fighting in here.”

  Jackson lowered his arms and took a step back. Lynn fought to catch her breath. It had all happened so fast. She hadn’t meant for anyone to take Bode down, but still, the jerk hadn’t gotten the picture.

  “Come on, let’s go,” Tory had her arm and was pulling her away.

  Lynn walked out of the pub into the cool night air, drawing a deep, deep breath.

  “What happened in there?” Tory asked.

  “I don’t know...Bode, well he was kind of an ass. He put his hand up here, and I mean all the way up here, and when I told him to remove it and said I wasn’t that kind of girl, he laughed and said why the hell had I gone out with him if I wasn’t interested in sex, because it wasn’t like we had anything else in common. And when he didn’t take no for an answer, Jackson was there doing some sort of weird ninja trick that had Bode on the ground in no time flat.”

  “I saw that, and I have to say that was kinda hot,” Tory said, nodding. “Imagine that, Jackson Sanders coming to your rescue. And sorry about Bode. Maybe you aren’t ready to just jump into bed with someone.”

  “I didn’t need rescuing,” Lynn said, ignoring what Tory had said about Bode. Yes, her hormones were itching, but not for what Bode was offering. It had been a little too blunt. And he hadn’t taken no for an answer the first time. She’d been just about to tell him that in no uncertain terms, the way she had learned in defense class, but Jackson had just been there, smooth, capable, kind of like James Bond. Ok, so maybe she didn’t need the rescuing; but Tory was right—there had been something kind of hot about Jackson stepping in.

  “I am sure you didn’t, but still, it’s not every day a girl gets caught up in a bar fight.”

  Lynn slowed her pace just a little, shook her head, “I’m not a girl. I’m a grown woman, a doctor; and the last thing I need is be caught up in some sort barroom brawl.”

  “Whatever. I still think it’s kind of hot. And wow, the way Jackson was staring at you, like he couldn’t tear himself away.”

  “Oh please,” Lynn snorted.

  “Well, it’s about time he got over her. You know, he might just be what you need.”

  “I didn’t need any help,” Lynn insisted. “He was just being a gentleman, you know because I’m friends with his soon to be sister-in-law.”

  “Whatever. Anyway, here’s my car. I’m going to head home now.”

  “You ok to drive?” Lynn said.

  “I only had one beer the entire night,” Tory said. “But let me drive you to your door.”

  Lynn was about to say no, that the walk would do her good, when a shadow fell upon them, cast by the old-fashioned street lamp.

  They turned and saw Jackson walking towards them. He had put on his jacket and to Lynn, he looked tall, dangerous, and very suave. James Bond indeed.

  “Ladies, can I walk you home?” he asked, coming to a stop before them.

  “This is my car, I was going to head home, but since you and Lynn are heading to the same place, you can make sure she gets home safely,” Tory said quickly, shooting a fierce look at Jackson.

  “Lynn will be perfectly safe with me,” he said to Tory, his voice stiff.

  Lynn watched the exchange between Tory and Jackson, puzzled. There was an undercurrent here that she didn’t understand, but then it didn’t seem to matter because Jackson was looking down at her for confirmation and all she could do was mutter, “Umm, sure,” suddenly feeling tongue-tied.

  She gave Tory a quick, one-armed hug and watched as her friend jumped into her little Mini Cooper and peeled off.

  And she was left standing in the street with Jackson.

  “You were heading home, I presume?” Jackson said.

  “Yes,” Lynn answered, because she didn’t really have anywhere else to be. Except for a date with her couch, the Hallmark channel, and some black raspberry ice cream with chocolate sauce.

  “Should we go?” He held out an arm in the general direction of the harbor and she fell in step beside him, suddenly aware of the heat emanating from him.

  “I guess I should say thank you,” Lynn said. “I mean, I was handling it, could have handled it. In fact, I was going to try a move like yours, I mean not like yours, because wow, yours was pretty killer. I didn’t even know you were there. Is that because you’re a black belt?”

  She stopped took a breath, realizing she was babbling. Nervous; why was she so nervous? Jackson had only ever made her irritated, mad, before—not nervous. Ok, so he had made her both. Irritated, nervous, jumpy; you name it, he had caused just about the full spectrum.

  “Yes and yes.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, I am sure you could have had handled it, but it annoyed me he wasn’t getting the message fast enough. And yes, I was able to do that because I’m a black belt.”

  “Have you ever done that before?” she asked, not sure if she wanted to know if he made a habit of rescuing other women.

  “In a bar?” He glanced down at her and she thought that maybe, for once, his eyes looked less icy, friendly even.

  “Yeah.”

  “No, never in a bar. In competitions, yes. But then I haven’t done one of those in many years.”

  “It doesn’t seem like you’re out of practice.”

  “I just finished what you started.” His voice was gracious.

  “Are you always so much of a gentleman or do you just like dropping guys with an axe kick?”

  He stopped then and she was forced to stop with him. “If you’re asking if I approve of violence, I do not. But I hate bullies even more. And Bode was bullying you.”

  “So you would have done the same for anyone?”

  She wondered why she was disappointed when Jackson answered with a simple yes and they continued walking. She didn’t know why she felt she needed to explain the situation to him, but she did.

  “I’m really not the type of girl who goes all the way on the first date.” As she said it, she knew it was true. She needed a little bit of romance, even if her hormones were screaming for some therapy. “And that’s all he seemed interested in. I mean, he acknowledged that we have nothing in common except a certain level of physical attractiveness…I mean, he practically admitted he was only interested in my body.”

  “And that upsets you?” Jackson asked dryly.

  She looked up at him. His eyes were shrouded in the dark, so she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She swallowed, all of a sudden nervous. She had never imagined walking in the moonlight with Jackson Sanders, and it was putting her on edge. Why did it have to be him that her underused hormones responded to? Why couldn’t they do backflips for Nate the accounta
nt, or even Bode the blunt?

  They were almost at the harbor and the building that housed their apartments. A few clouds were rolling in, playing hide and seek with the moon. Tomorrow was supposed to be rainy, she remembered, the first real rain of the fall. It would be a good day to huddle in bed, figure out why her professional life seemed to be going so well but her personal life was in shambles. It was because she was book smart and guy stupid, she decided.

  They were almost at the stairs that led up to the second-floor balcony. He got there first but stood back, letting her go ahead. She mounted the steps, going up them as quickly as possible, all of a sudden eager to get away from Jackson. Her body was too jumpy, her nervous system tingling—a sure sign her hormones were kicking up into overdrive.

  So far, he had shown nothing but irritation or excruciating politeness to her, and she could only assume that his own body and nervous system were not in any way compromised. Like he said, he would have done what he did for anyone. So don’t read too much into it, she told herself.

  The light had been fixed, she noticed, and now there was no mistaking her door from Jackson’s, especially now that she had put a new doormat in front of it.

  “Here we are,” she said, walking to her door, one hand fumbling for her key in her purse.

  To her surprise, he didn’t stop at his own door and go directly in. Instead, he came until he was standing close to her. As her hands fished the keys from her bag, she felt them tremble slightly. There was something distinctly unnerving having Jackson Sanders standing so close to her, his eyes staring at her face.

  Without a word, he leaned in and for one breathless moment, Lynn had a crazy idea that he was going to kiss her, and though she wasn’t nearly ready for it, she nonetheless would have wanted it.

  Instead, he reached his hand out and took the keys from hers. In a swift, fluid moment, he opened the door to her apartment and the keys were back in her hand.

  The distance was back between them now and she let out a breath, confused at what had just happened, or in any case had not happened.

  “Have a good night,” he said.

  “Are you always such a gentleman?” she breathed.