by Shauna Allen
“It’s not that,” I mumbled, hating the pinch in my gut at her words. Even in my need to save her, to keep my dirty secrets, I wanted her to want more.
“Then what? Please tell me. Help me understand.”
I took another step away, ugly feelings welling up in me. “I told you. We’re no good together. I can only hurt you, and that’s not fair. To either of us.”
Her gaze narrowed. Silence descended for several heartbeats. “Fine. Have it your way. For now. But, like I told you, I’m a big girl and I’ll decide what’s good for me.” She stepped back into my personal space, searing me with her nearness. “And, at this moment, I think we’re good for each other.”
“How could you possibly know that?” I asked, frustrated. Desperate.
“I just do.” Her fingers traced my jaw as she studied my lips. “And you do, too. You’re just not ready. But I’ll be here when you are.”
She whispered another kiss to my mouth, just grazing my bottom lip then turned away. “Goodnight, Jesse.”
I bit the bullet and went early the next morning to work out with Micah. Well, he worked out with some badassery of advanced Krav Maga, taking down a much larger man in a sparring match, while I watched from the comfort of the treadmill. But, hey, I broke a sweat.
He ambled over when his match was over, wiping his head with a towel. “Wanna try?”
I was at a slow jog now, so I was just a little winded. I shot a glare toward the floor pads. “That? With you? No thanks.”
His answering grin was cocky as hell. “Why not? Afraid I’ll kick your ass?”
I said nothing, just turned up the speed on the treadmill, hoping to beat memories of Rachel’s plea to take her inside from my brain. Was I an idiot for not taking her up on that? My body definitely thought so, waking up from the dirtiest dream I’d had in a long time, with Rachel’s plump pink lips as the star, leaving me with a raging hard-on. That cold shower did nothing to relieve things, and it didn’t help that I was tired from staying up too late reading Dr. Zhivago.
“Come on,” Micah prompted, his voice quiet. “I’ll just show you a few moves. No ass kicking, I swear.”
“Fine.” I slowed and stepped off. Facing him at the edge of the mat, I waited.
“Okay. How about a basic stepping side kick and uppercut combo. Easy. Even for a big lug like you.” He grinned.
I nodded and he walked me through the moves a couple times.
“Good,” he said then we moved on to a few more disabling techniques. I could see why he liked it so much. Worked out the aggression.
We were moving through some repetitive take down sequences when he asked. Just like I knew he would. “So . . . you and Rachel, huh?”
I deflected his mock punch, offering one of my own. His eyes brightened in surprise and approval at my attack. “Yeah, I guess.”
“You guess?”
I paused, letting him think I was done, then when his guard was down, I hooked his leg and knocked him to his ass. “It’s complicated.”
He took my outstretched hand and pulled himself up. We headed to the locker room, passing a smaller area where women were practicing self-defense. “Didn’t look too complicated to me last night when you guys were playing tonsil hockey.”
“Tonsil hockey’s fine. She wants more.”
We grabbed our bags and water bottles and headed out. “And you don’t?” he asked once we were outside. “Want more?”
I glanced away, studying the rolling gray clouds in the distance and catching the scent of oncoming rain. It wasn’t a question of what I wanted. Hell, even what I needed. Baring myself to Rachel was out of the question. But this topic was an old one, not worth rehashing. I straddled my bike with a shrug. “It’s not possible.”
Micah’s dark, discerning eyes bored into me, but he didn’t say anything as I let the engine roar to a start. “See ya?”
He nodded, obviously biting his tongue against saying more. It was just as well. “See ya.”
I zipped off into the quickly darkening morning, letting the harsh wind whip away my doubts.
Rachel
I was not about to let Jesse Joyner slip away. Not without a fight, and definitely not because he had some asinine idea he wasn’t good enough for me.
I just had to figure out how to break through his rock solid defenses.
Unfortunately, that was a problem for another time, as I hung up with the court clerk rescheduling Mrs. Casey’s mediation. Some bullshit about Mr. Casey’s attorney still collecting pertinent documentation. Why did they not have that done by now?
“Got a minute?” Angelo popped his head into my office.
“Sure.”
He strode in and sat across from me. I studied his perfectly pressed navy blue suit, his perfectly coiffed black hair, and smarmy grin. What had I been thinking? “What did you think of our meeting with Congressman Hoyt’s son?” he asked.
I tilted my head, hating that I knew he had an endgame. “Do you want an honest answer?”
His smarm amped up. “Of course.”
I leaned back in my chair and leveled him with my eyes. “He’s a spineless, spoiled brat, who thinks the rules don’t apply to him because of who his family is . . .”
Angelo’s mouth popped open as if to defend the punk, but I cut him off.
“And we both know he raped that girl.”
Angelo stared at me, at a loss for words. Did he honestly think I would like the kid? “We know no such thing,” he finally sputtered.
“Please. He might as well have ‘guilty’ tattooed across his forehead. He’s a pompous ass just like his daddy.”
Angelo straightened in his chair. “Well, be that as it may, he’s still entitled to the best possible defense in a court of law. Presumed innocent and all that . . . or have you forgotten?”
Daisy Williams’ face popped into my mind again and I wanted to scream ‘What about the victim?’ but I bit my tongue. “No. I haven’t. But what I think doesn’t matter since you or Andrew will be representing him.”
Angelo glanced away, his expression suddenly sheepish.
“What?” I demanded.
He peered at me from the corner of his eye. “He wants you.”
I paused, processing. “What do you mean?”
He faced me full on and I suddenly realized what he was saying. “He’s asked for you to take the lead on his defense.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
He held up a hand. “Now, wait a minute. Representing the congressman’s son could be quite the coup for the firm.” He stood and glared down at me. “Just think about it. I told him we’d let him know by tomorrow.”
I glared right back. “There’s nothing to think about. The answer is no. Tell him my caseload is too heavy or something if you want to play nice, but I am not going to defend a rapist. I won’t do it.”
“Well, then you tell the congressman. I won’t be your messenger boy while you burn this firm’s best client to date.” He stormed out, slamming my door.
I stared at the door, fuming. “Son of a—”
My phone rang, interrupting my rant. I yanked up the receiver. “Rachel Chaseman.”
“Hey,” came Jewel’s soft voice. “You all right?”
“No,” I barked. I took a deep breath. “Sorry. Work crap. It’s fine. What’s up? How are you?”
“I’m fine. I just wanted to let you know a package for you was delivered to the apartment. I guess whoever sent it didn’t get your forwarding address.”
“A package?”
“Yeah. Want me to bring it by?”
“Who’s it from?”
I heard some rustling on the other end. “It just says W.C. with a post office box. It’s postmarked from Denver.”
“Oh. That’s my brother.” Why would he be sending me a package? And hadn’t I given him my address when I moved? God, what a shitty sister I was.
“Right. Duh.”
I swiveled in my chair and faced the window as rain started p
elting against the glass. “Don’t worry about it. Just leave it on the hall table by the front door and I’ll pick it up next time I come over.”
“Okay. Well, I need to get to work. Just wanted to let you know.”
“Thanks.”
We hung up and I stood to face the storm. Both outside and the one raging in my heart.
My day went from bad to worse as I suffered the silent accusation from all the partners at work, not just Angelo. It was starting to get to me so I decided to bail early.
On a whim, I stopped at the store and bought a bottle of wine and drove straight to Jack ‘Em Up. I wanted to see Jesse . . . needed it. He was the only person who made me feel anything like myself lately. Plus, I needed to keep working on him if I had any hope of breaking through his titanium shell.
I parked to the right of the big, open bay doors and headed in, the click of my heels lost to the sound of loud metal grinding. Inhaling, I took in the scent of grease and man, and suddenly recalled Delilah saying the combo was hot. I wasn’t so sure.
Then I saw him.
An automatic smile plastered to my face as I strode in, my eyes locked on my target. I bypassed Trace and Blake, who didn’t see me with their heads stuffed under a hood. Micah was nowhere in sight. My breath caught as I got closer to Jesse. His attention was focused on a large piece of metal that he was working on with some kind of grinder tool. His deep blue shop T-shirt was plastered to his back with sweat, his face was serious, brows puckered in concentration over his safety glasses, his full lips tight. His forearm muscles and biceps bunched and flexed as he worked, making my mouth water.
I was able to basically molest him with my eyes for several long moments before he flipped off his tool, his gaze meeting mine as quiet descended.
“Hi,” I said to break the silence.
“Hi.” He slipped off the glasses and placed them on the workbench. “What brings you by?”
Should I be honest? Sugarcoat my need for him? Make up something about the bike?
Ah, to hell with it.
“I missed you.”
His crystalline eyes widened as if he didn’t expect my words. I watched his internal struggle as it played through his features. I released a tense breath when he finally murmured, “I missed you, too.”
I smiled in relief. It had been no more than two days since we saw each other last, but it’d felt like eons. What the heck was up with that? I was beginning to blame raging hormones.
I glanced around. Trace and Blake were studying us with curious expressions. I winked and turned back to Jesse. “You about done for the day?”
After a quick look at the wall clock, he nodded. “Yeah. What’s up?”
“Have dinner with me?”
Something like regret filled his eyes. “Sorry, I can’t. I have plans.”
“Oh.” Disappointment rushed through me, quickly followed by jealousy. Did he have a date? God, I didn’t think I could handle that without clawing a bitch’s eyes out . . .
“Dinner with the family,” he explained, a knowing smirk on his face. Was I that easy to read?
“Oh. Right. Sounds great.” I was still disappointed, but I could handle that. He did have a fabulous family. “Okay then . . .” I started to back up and head home with my lonely bottle of Chardonnay. “Maybe another time?”
“Wait.”
I paused and met his eyes. God, he was pretty, even if that wasn’t a word you were supposed to use for a guy. He was. He had been ever since I’d first laid eyes on him in high school, only he’d grown into something so much more spectacular.
“Come with me.”
“I . . . what?”
His smile was lopsided, as if he was surprised or amused with himself for his impetuous offer. “Come with me. Have dinner with us.” He wiggled his brows. “Homemade pizza and brownies.”
“You’re sure?”
His expression grew serious as he appeared to think it over. Then his eyes softened as his gaze raked over me. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
Jesse
I wasn’t sure why I invited Rachel to dinner. It was an impulsive decision, probably based on the dangerous combo of her doe eyes when she asked me out and her body in that curve hugging charcoal suit that just teased the eyes with a glimpse of cleavage in a hot pink silky number underneath.
I didn’t even consider the implications. She was fun, I liked her, we had a lot in common, I liked spending time with her. So what if I’d never brought a girl home? It didn’t have to mean more than I wanted it to.
Rachel studied me, her face a mix of confusion, wariness, and desire. “Okay,” she finally said. “What time?”
“In ten minutes, actually,” I admitted.
Her eyes widened. “Ten minutes?”
I laughed. My family knew I was never on time, especially when I got sucked into a big project at work. “Yeah, but it’s no big thing. You can follow me over if you want, I just need to make a pit stop at my apartment for a quick shower. Mom doesn’t appreciate eau de mechanic.” I grinned, remembering the first and only time I’d shown up without cleaning up first. Did not go over well.
Now her gaze heated. “Need help washing your back?” The smile tilting her lips was equal parts tease and serious.
I swallowed, wishing. “I think I’ll manage.”
She laughed. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
“Guess not.”
“Well . . .” She stepped forward, her strappy heels clicking on the ground as she neared me, the greasy air being overcome with her sweet musk. She rested a hand on my chest and I was sure she would feel my heart pounding. “You go on home and take care of business. I know how to get to your parents’ place. I’ll meet you there and make your excuses.”
My gaze had dipped to her lips as she spoke. “Okay.”
“Okay,” she echoed just before her lips brushed across mine in a chaste kiss that promised so much more. “Hurry up.”
I stood frozen, watching her saunter away with a delicious sway of her hips. This could turn out to be a long ass night.
I rushed back to the apartment, took the fastest shower in history, and sped to my folks. It might’ve been stupid, but something about Rachel being there without me felt . . . personal. Not that I thought she’d share any intimate details of our kisses, or that I’d even care if she did. I just was not prepared for my family to delve any deeper into things than I’d had a chance to go. I was comfortable with Rachel at arm’s length. Well, most of the time.
When I arrived, the house was filled with laughter and the scents of baking pizza and garlic. I followed the noise and found everyone around the kitchen island, raptly watching my dad slice a steaming pizza.
My eyes automatically sought out Rachel’s. She was grinning at something my sister Leta said, a wineglass in her hand, her bare feet propped on the rung of the barstool beneath her, loose ringlets of fiery red framing her flushed face.
“Well, look who finally decided to join us,” my mom said, forcing me to focus on her.
“Yeah, sorry.”
Her gaze tracked to Rachel. “It’s okay. We had some delightful company.”
I stifled the urge to kiss the knowing smirk off Rachel’s face as her eyes ate me up too. I ripped my attention away and smiled at my dad. “Smells good. Your famous throw-everything-in-but-the-kitchen-sink special?”
“The very one.” He finished slicing with a flourish.
“Hey, bro.” My older brother, Dwayne, clasped my shoulder from behind as he entered the kitchen. “How’s it going?”
I faced him and we did the same silly fist bump handshake we’d perfected when we were kids. “Good. You? Where’re Audra and the kids?”
“Sam was running a fever and the baby looked like she was coming down with something, too, so Audra stayed home with them. I’m taking her home some pizza. I swear, this pregnancy, she’s eating everything but the house.”
I grinned. My brother wasn’t fooling anyone. He loved every minute of th
e pregnancy hormones, midnight feedings, and poopy diapers. “Hope they feel better,” I murmured, my eyes still glued to Rachel.
My brother replied, but I didn’t hear him as I zeroed in on my target. I prowled her way and watched her smile grow.
“Hi.” Her voice was trembly and soft, at odds with the unease on her face.
“Hi.” I kept my trajectory until I bumped against her knees.
She set her wine aside with a shaking hand, and in the back of my mind, I knew she was probably concerned about what my family thought since the electricity we were giving off could light the city, but in that moment, I didn’t care. We’d kept our relationship, if it could be called that, quiet. I hadn’t shared the most intimate details of my life with anyone in my family, but suddenly I wanted them to know. I wanted to lay claim to her. To us.
The kitchen was dead silent but she didn’t release my gaze. I watched her tongue dart out and lick her lip.
Without another thought, I tangled my hands in the thick mass of hair at the nape of her neck and slanted my mouth across hers in a way that was definitely not friendly. She let out a soft moan and gripped handfuls of my T-shirt to keep herself steady. I slid my tongue along hers in a quick caress and nipped a few times on her bottom lip before breaking away.
On a quivery breath, she rested her forehead against my chest and composed herself. I glanced up and looked at my family. My dad was back to cutting the pizza, but a small smile was playing around his lips. My mother looked happy enough to burst. Leta and Dwayne were simply staring with varying degrees of shock.
Rachel finally drew back and shot a quick glance to my mom with a sweet flush climbing her cheeks. “So, uh, this is news to you, huh?”
I couldn’t help the laugh that belted from me. If only she knew how badly I’ve wanted her since I first laid eyes on her.
“Good for you, Son,” my dad said, sliding a plate with two slices our way with a wink for Rachel. “You need a good woman.”
I watched my never ruffled Rachel as she grasped for words.
Leta slid in next to me. “So . . . you two are dating?”