by Amber Scott
It took everything in him not to look back at Claire.
He shut the door on the only place where he could sit, think, and gather his wits.
The blaring music muted to a low hum. He sank into the deep leather sofa, there for the lunatics, according to the owner, and laid his face in his hands.
A soft knock sounded on the door. Damn it. He’d barely gotten there. He ignored it. Probably just Trina bitching about Jennifer pouring too light. He drew in a deep gulp of air. Man, those two could scratch each other’s eyes out.
Eventually, Claire would leave. Her arrival had to be an accident, pure coincidence. She’d see how awkward staying would make—
The door cracked open. Music flooded in.
Jace looked up, and the words he was about to growl fell away. Claire shut the door behind her and leaned back against it. The spaghetti strap of her blouse slid down her creamy shoulder, and flashes of their night six years ago rushed back.
Deep, possessive need ran through his veins, aching in his lower extremities. It felt like hunger, like thirst. As though his DNA saw what it wanted and demanded that he chase it. Just one little taste, his body begged.
Claire didn’t speak, and for a moment, didn’t move, either. And Jace’s gaze took every burning detail in, feeding the fire inching up his thighs. He rubbed his hands on his jeans. A small valley of cleavage was visible above her shirt, which clung to her skinny waist downward to the curves of her hips. The low-slung jeans bared a line of delicious flesh. Jace’s mouth watered.
He didn’t know what to say.
He swallowed, his throat thick with hunger. What did she think she was doing? Didn’t she have any idea how dangerous being alone with him was? He let his stare fall to the place his body wanted most. The tight-fitting jeans outlined Claire’s mound just enough to allow Jace’s mind to fill in the blanks and imagine details. He ran his hands through his hair and groaned.
He didn’t mean to groan, but the craving and longing were too much. Claire cleared her throat, drawing Jace’s gaze back to her face. Her hands went behind her. A small click sounded. The lock. His body sprang to life. Jace stood, seeing the locked door. The tenuous hold on his sanity slid away.
God, he wanted her. So bad it hurt. So much he feared he’d drown in the waves of hope and desire crashing through him. Within three strides, Claire stood before him. Her heels made her almost as tall as he was. His lips would perfectly meet her forehead. Jace held very still.
Claire reached up and touched Jace’s cheek.
Jace closed his eyes and leaned his face down toward the warmth, breathing in the vanilla scent of her. He opened her eyes and Claire tipped her head. Her hands found his waist. Jace kept his at his sides. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
Her eyes searched his. She inched closer. Her hands shook against him. “I know.”
“Claire,” he said.
Tyler. Her fiancé. He couldn’t do this. But all his body wanted was here. All his heart ached for stood right there, touching him. His heart beat like a fist on his ribs. What if things were different?
Jace’s hands found the small of her back. He pulled her to him. She made a tiny gasp. Her eyes bore into his, a plea shining in them. He ran one hand up her back, up her neck, into her hair. He buried his face into her neck. Silky softness met his stubbly cheek.
“Jace, please,” Claire said.
She didn’t need to say more. He put his lips to her throat. He dragged kisses up the length, over her chin. He pulled back so he could see her eyes. He leaned in and touched his lips to hers.
Jace nearly groaned again. Her lips were heaven. Perfection that pressed and caressed and opened for Jace, urging him to let go. Please, she’d said. Her kiss didn’t plead. Her mouth devoured. Claire’s hands raked into his hair and over his shirt, yanking the hem up.
A primal need grabbed him by the throat. Nothing else mattered except feeling her, kissing her, having her. Every inch. All his. Only his.
The world seemed to tear away, and his shirt did as well.
“Jace, oh God, Jace,” Claire said, breathlessly. “I need you, Jace. Please.”
Jace’s final thread of thought that held onto right and wrong, snapped with Claire’s words. He pushed Claire to the wall and leaned his elbows against it. The sofa was one step away, forgotten as Claire clung to him.
He lifted one leg, and then the next. He pressed his aching erection against her. Her jeans, his, did little to hide her softness or his hardness. He drove circles against her, dying to get closer. Every part of him wanted to be inside this woman.
Claire’s small, hot kisses grew into deep stroking ones. She wriggled out of her shirt. Jace unsnapped her bra. Her glorious breasts sprang free. Two rose-colored nipples pointed to his chest. He cupped the perfect mounds, massaging them, pulling her closer. Claire brought his head to one dusky nipple. Jace licked, flicked, and suckled. She arched into it, pulling at his head.
Jace needed more. More skin, more touching, more time. Time! Oh God, they had no time. Jennifer would pitch a fit if he stayed much longer. She’d be pounding down the door. Trina, too.
But Claire felt so damned good.
“Claire, what are you doing to me?” he asked.
“Testing a theory,” she gasped.
A sharp rap on the door and jiggle of the knob brought them apart.
“Shit,” Jace said, finding his shirt. Claire scrambled to fasten her bra and wriggle her top back on. It had to be Jennifer. Please let it be Jennifer, and not Claire’s fiancé. Whoever it was knocked again. The sound of keys brought his pulse down a notch. “I have to get back to work.”
Claire nodded, wiping her mouth and, though disheveled, was glowing. “Can I see you again?”
Jace’s gut tightened, and his chest ached as well. He’d already crossed the line she’d drawn. And with Jennifer about to walk in and Claire about to leave him again, it just didn’t seem so bad an idea to see her. One more time.
The lock clicked and the door opened. Jace gave Claire a brief nod. “I get off at two. I’ll call you.”
Claire’s face lit up like the morning sky, and when she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room, squeezing past Jennifer, Jace didn’t know whether to be thrilled or crushed.
“It’s been twenty-five minutes, Jace. What, are you trying to kill me or something?” After Claire left, her eyes narrowed on him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, of course. Why?”
“Because you’ve never been one to hide out back here—not like me, anyway.” He grinned at the last. “Because you look like you’re about to cry.”
Jace blinked. His eyes did sting. He shook his head.
“Take five more minutes,” she said, sympathy in her eyes. “But no more. I’m mobbed out there.”
It would take him a lot more than five minutes to wrap his head—his heart—around what just happened. “I’m good.” He scrubbed his hands over his face and followed her out. Looking around, Claire was nowhere to be seen.
Neither was the man she came with.
~~
Chapter Fifteen
“False alarm,” Lawrence said with a shrug, a steaming paper cup of vending-machine coffee in his hand. “Nurse said it was probably just gas.”
“Really?” Jace sagged a little. Ashley’s call at 2:00 a.m. had been the perfect rescue from the dilemma he’d been twisting over ever since Claire left.
Now, with no labor, no baby coming, he was back to his problem: Should he actually call Claire? Maybe she had something to meaningful say to him. Or maybe she was just getting in some last bits of pleasure before the vows. Maybe she was going to ask Jace to be with her, to love her.
“She’s waiting for you,” Lawrence said, bringing Jace out of his thoughts.
“Who? Oh, Ashley?”
Lawrence gave him a less-than-amused smile. “Yeah, Ashley. This coaching thing is a really big deal to her, Jace. If not you, she’ll pick Millie.”
Jace didn’t need
a reminder of how much Millie grated on Lawrence’s nerves. Jace got it.
“I know. I know it is. It’s just been a long night,” he said. Now he was failing Ashley, too.
Inside her room, Ashley lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and holding her belly. “They’re sending me home. Can you believe that? I know it was contractions. Gas.” She half snorted, half huffed. “Please. Like I don’t know what gas feels like after the pregnancy I’ve had.”
Jace laughed. Which earned him a death glare.
“And when I have to come back in two hours, with a baby half popped out of me, I’m going to sue them for every last dollar. And you know what I’m going to do with the money? I’ll open the ‘Ashley Charles Women Who Really Are In Labor And Don’t Want To Go Home And Walk Center’.”
Lawrence coughed, fixing his eyes on the floor.
“I will write a letter that will get some written reprimands in some files, if not a suspension or two.” Ashley sat up and began to rip her hospital gown off.
Jace turned away in time to miss his sister’s naked glory. His phone vibrated from his pocket. Probably Jennifer begging him to come back and help close. No. Jennifer and Trina had it covered.
“Lawrence, can you get me an orange juice before we go? I’m dying of thirst,” Ashley said. “Did Millie call back?”
“Not yet,” Lawrence said, leaving them.
Jace didn’t turn around until Ashley said to. What was it about pregnancy that made women lose all shyness? Or was it just Ashley?
“So,” Ashley said, suspiciously cheerful when Jace faced her. “Anything exciting happen to you tonight?”
It wasn’t that she asked such a thing; it was how she asked—eyebrows wiggling, smile wide, and only after Lawrence left. Jace must have a guilty conscience. Ashley couldn’t possibly know about Claire.
“Claire? Didn’t she stop in to see you at work tonight? She told Millie she was going to.” Ashley adjusted her shirt over her enormous belly and crossed her legs on the mattress.
“She told Millie?” Jace fought to keep his features unreadable, but he gaped anyway. “How did she ...? Wait a minute, since when are Millie and Claire friends again?”
“What do you mean? They’re old friends.” She adjusted her shirt over her belly.
“True, but I thought they had lost touch.” He rubbed the back of his neck. If Ashley knew. And Millie knew... did Lawrence? Did Tyler? “Since when are you and Claire friendly?”
“What? I’ve always liked her.”
“I know you liked her, but that doesn’t mean you’re friends.”
“Did she not come? Did Millie get the name wrong? Seventh Heaven, isn’t it?” Ashley managed to look honestly concerned, making Jace’s suspicions worsen.
What was going on here?
“No, you got it right.”
“She didn’t come in, then? That sucks.”
Why would that suck? Had Ashley forgotten about Tyler’s heartbreak? “No, she came in.” Jace said, trying to read his sister’s face. “With her fiancé.”
“You met him?” Ashley asked, but not with much enthusiasm.
He nodded. “I met him.” Sort of. “When did you and Claire start spending time together? And why would you send her into my workplace?” Suddenly, it all became Ashley’s fault. Better yet, Millie’s fault that he’d succumbed to temptation, her fault that he’d betrayed his brother, hers that his heart was in turmoil.
Claire had taken him by surprise, and it was by no accident. Ashley and Millie had helped. No way did they do so to make a love connection, though. Millie had a thing for Jace. Maybe this was an angle to get close to him. A replay of the last time.
“Don’t be weird. She and Oliver needed a new nightlife spot. She asked how you were, and so I thought, convenient, kill two birds with one stone,” Ashley said with an easy shrug. “That’s his name, right? Oliver?”
Was it? Seriously. How could he not sound weird when he was back in the same old mess that had haunted him for the last six years? His heart belonged to a woman he could not have and he’d been wholly reminded of the fact all night long.
What was he supposed to feel when it was so clear Claire was up to something? And that something had no good intentions that might make him reconsider hurting his brother for the chance of happiness.
Good didn’t show up with a fiancé in tow. Wholesome didn’t seduce like that. A wash of memory ran over his skin, making him quake from the images in his mind. Images of Claire’s mouth, her tongue, memories of her breasts flashed rampant. His body reacted. It wanted more.
“I have to go back to work,” he said, and turned toward the door.
“No, wait. Jace, look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would get you in trouble. I’ll never tell another soul where you work; I promise. Just don’t leave mad.” Ashley’s eyes were glistening when Jace turned back around. “I’m going to need you tonight.”
Jace’s anger deflated. “Fine, Ash. I’ll have my phone on high for you, okay?”
“Phone? No, no, no. Come home with Lawrence and me. You can crash in the guest room until it’s time,” Ashley said, rubbing her belly and nodding in a way that refused argument.
His phone vibrated again. He ignored it. “Okay,” Jace said and patted Ashley’s belly.
Maybe if he didn’t go back to work, he’d find some space to sort out all the muck his emotions had become. He’d told Claire what time he got off. She’d assume that meant he’d meet her.
He wouldn’t.
* * *
Five hours later, Jace woke to his phone’s vibrations, rattling it on the wooden nightstand. Jace’s heart leapt. Then his stomach tightened.
Should he look? Should he answer? The light of day brought a margin of perspective and quite a bit of relief from the ache in his chest.
The phone went silent. Jace scolded himself for feeling disappointed. He’d done the right thing—the only thing he could do. Once the bliss wore off from their erotic encounter, the truth lay in wait. He couldn’t justify calling Claire, not when it meant he was courting betrayal rather than having a wish land in his lap. It was a coward’s rationalization, but still, it worked.
He wished that there were a way to dial the number and meet Claire without his bond with Tyler being further compromised. But there just wasn’t. What was he supposed to say that he hadn’t already?
Ask her why, for starters, a part of him said. Call her and ask her what she thinks she’s doing, tell her to stop toying with you, because you can’t take much more.
He couldn’t. Having a taste of heaven last night worsened everything. Withdrawal had set in. Physical and emotional hell that could only get darker if he saw Claire again. Because one more time, or a hundred, would never be enough. He could admit that to himself at least.
Seeing Claire would only dig the hole deeper, and there was no way out of this predicament. Claire hadn’t even broken off her engagement. She’d called, said words that awakened Jace’s hopes, and then showed up with proof she didn’t love him.
Why had she come last night? Why had she brought her fiancé with her after going to the trouble of finding out where he worked? Why follow him? Why make a move at all?
Well, the last wasn’t so hard to answer. If she felt anything like Jace had since they last saw each other, she had been going crazy, too.
The idea of Claire in a fever for him, too, soothed him. He rolled to his back, stared at the ceiling, refusing to reach for the phone. He could so easily call, ask, and demand.
He palmed his phone, saw seven missed calls and dialed the number, taking a deep breath and sitting up. It rang once.
“Jace?” Claire whispered.
Funny how he recognized even her whisper.
“Yes.” His heart thumped.
“What happened?”
“Ashley thought she was going into labor. I had to go to the hospital.” God, her voice sounded good. “I’m one of her coaches.”
“How wonderful.” Sincerity
shined right through the phone. “I was worried that you changed your mind, I guess. She’s not in labor?”
“No.” He was answering on both counts, he realized. One more time, his soul begged, his body demanded. Just one more time. Get some answers.
“When can I see you?” Claire said softly, pain in her tone.
Did she still fear Jace would refuse? “Whenever you want to.” He didn’t care if he wasn’t playing the game. Hearing Claire’s voice, imagining her at the other end of the call, Jace just wanted to see her, consequences or not.
Claire let her breath out just loudly enough to be audible. A rush of warmth ran through Jace. She’d been holding it? That meant she cared. A lot. Jace grinned, triumphant.
He might feel like a kid talking to his crush on the phone, but he didn’t have to show it. He needed to be cool, collected. Eagerness got him nowhere fast the last time.
“How’s this afternoon?”
Yes! “Um, fine. Good. What time are you thinking?”
“It’s twelve now. How about one?” Claire asked, her voice squeaking enough to make her clear her throat.
Jace suppressed a chuckle. Claire was worried. This was the kind of speech he’d imagined six years ago. And it healed a few old wounds.
“How about two? Where?” Don’t say my place. Say something else, someplace neutral, someplace not like a date.
“Have you ever been to Tia Rosas?”
It sounded familiar, but ... “No.”
“It’s a little Mexican place off of Thomas, east of Hayden, tucked away in a little shopping village.”
A date place. Jace chewed his lower lip.
“Unless you’d rather go someplace else?” Claire asked.
“No, that sounds fine. I’ll see you at two then?”
“Definitely.”
She hung up. A voice inside demanded to know why he hadn’t bothered to ask any of his questions, the whole reason he’d picked up the damned phone. But, he rationalized, in a way, he had gotten answers.