The Jack & Jill Series

by Ann, Jewel E

  “AJ home today?” he asked to break the ice before suggesting sex or marriage.

  “Yes. I was pretty shocked to hear that he retired from the air force. Honestly, I’ve worked for him for over five years, but I’ve rarely seen or talked to him. Yet he seemed … I don’t know, maybe a little depressed today.”

  “Jillian will cheer him up after she gets home.”

  “Oh … are they …”

  “Yes, he’s screwing my sister. No, I don’t like it.”

  Ryn looked away with a hint of discomfort in her expression. She took her bucket of supplies to the bathroom. “Is it because of the age difference?”

  Jackson followed her. “No. It’s because she’s my sister and therefore no guy will ever be deserving of her.”

  “She’s lucky. I’d love to have someone feel that protective of me.”

  “Could you tell her that?”

  Ryn laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure she doesn’t always think of it as a blessing. So … how old is she?”

  “Thirty.”

  “And you’re older?” Ryn tried to sound indifferent, but he saw through it.

  Jackson smiled as she fished for his age. The age thing mattered to her.

  “Yes. I’m older.”

  Her smile grew with a look of relief.

  “By seven minutes.”

  That look of relief quickly faded. “Really, twins?”

  “Yes. So how old are you?”

  She tapped the toilet brush on the edge and returned it to the bucket. “That’s kind of a bold question. You know it’s not polite to ask a woman her age.”

  “You asked Jillian’s.”

  “Let me rephrase, it’s not polite for a man to ask a woman her age.”

  “Sounds like a double standard.” He chuckled. “Besides, I’m a bold guy, so it’s fitting that I ask bold questions.”

  Ryn cleaned the mirror, occasionally meeting his eyes through the reflection. “How old do you think I am?”

  “I’m bold, not stupid, so I’m not answering that.”

  “I’m in my thirties as well.” She rolled her lips between her teeth to contain her smile.

  He felt bad for playing her, but he wanted her to think of him as a normal guy. Telling her that he’d already done a full background check on her would not get him past his celibacy phase. Women were sensitive about the whole invasion-of-privacy thing.

  “Can I be honest with you?” he asked.

  “Honesty’s good.”

  “I told Jillian I’m interested in you.”

  She gulped—loudly. Then her hands doubled their pace, working at record speed. Her eyes remained focused on her task. He enjoyed seeing her uncomfortable. It meant she was attracted to him.

  “She wasn’t too pleased because she doesn’t want you to quit cleaning our house or AJ’s.”

  Another gulp. She had an excess of saliva.

  He continued since she didn’t have anything to add yet. “So she said I should make it clear that we’re going to just have sex or else I need to marry you.”

  “Oh my God! What?” She turned, holding the cleaning rag against her chest as if she were standing there topless.

  A grin dominated his whole face and nothing had ever felt so good, which was weird because his dick remained in his pants. He worked her for a reaction the same way he had done for years with Jillian.

  “I agree. Marriage might be too soon. I wouldn’t dream of proposing without asking for your father’s blessing.”

  “I’m almost forty!” she spewed out the words like a last-minute confession with a gun pointed to her head. Even her face scrunched into a frightened grimace.

  “Great, so you have a birthday coming up. We should celebrate.”

  “I have a daughter. She’s twenty-one.” Another rushed confession.

  “I’d love to meet her.”

  Ryn narrowed her eyes. “As in … you want me to fix the two of you up?”

  Jackson chuckled. “I’m keeping you from working. We should have drinks later and discuss what I want in further detail.”

  “I have to take Gunner for a walk…” she hugged the cleaning rag to her chest even tighter “…later.”

  “Your ferret?”

  The hardened statue in front of him relaxed a little. He enjoyed the smile that reacquainted itself with her lips. “No.” She laughed. “He’s my dog.”

  “Ohhh … gotcha. So leave me your address and I’ll come walk with you.” He knew her address, but once again, it didn’t seem like a good idea to tell her that.

  “You’re relentless,”

  “You have no idea.” He made a point of letting his gaze drag slowly up her body until he could see a small sheen of perspiration on her brow. Mission accomplished.

  *

  Leaving an ass print on the beach carried less intimidation when Jackson Knight seemed unattainable—celibate. Sex or marriage. Who says that? Definitely not a thirty-year-old guy with the most unique eyes Ryn had ever seen, a body sculpted for the front cover of a fitness magazine, and tattoos that were clearly on display for the sole purpose of her enjoyment. And a guy like that definitely did not say that to a nearly forty-year-old woman losing her battle with gravity.

  Perhaps she’d hallucinated the whole conversation. It was hard to say for sure. There had been heart palpitations, sweating, and foggy-brained confusion. Had she also imagined the inappropriate way he looked at her? Ryn hoped not. She rather liked how he looked at her. He made her feel a hundred times sexier than she imagined possible.

  Clothes were strewn all over her room. It was a walk, not dinner with the president. She didn’t need to try on ten different outfits, but she did anyway. After settling on the most boring choice ever—gray yoga capris and a white tank top—she waited on her porch swing with Gunner at her feet.

  “You’re smiling at no one in particular.”

  She turned. “Hey, Drew.”

  “Good day?”

  She snorted out a laugh when a wood-paneled PT Cruiser pulled into her driveway, the perfect visual to temper her attraction to Jackson. Then he got out and the PT Cruiser might as well have been a Ferrari. Jackson exuded sexiness. He made ugly beautiful. Could he make her feel half as desirable as he looked?

  Drew chuckled. “He’s young.”

  “Yup.” Ryn couldn’t take her eyes off Jackson as he navigated up her driveway like a catwalk, wearing faded ripped jeans and a fitted black tank top that showed more of his tattoos than she had ever seen.

  “Hi.” Jackson first acknowledged Drew.

  “Hey there. Well, you two have fun at the beach.” Drew’s steps faded into the distance.

  Warmth surged along her skin, overheating her whole body. Someone needed to throw some ice water on her.

  “The beach?” Jackson questioned.

  “Inside joke.” Her eyes took their first blink since he’d pulled into her driveway.

  “Hot car.” She grinned.

  Sex in the flesh shoved his hands deep into his pockets, flexing the muscles along his arms, but her eyes latched onto the wide black waist band of his underwear exposed in the front from his hands pushing down.

  “Thank you.”

  Ryn shook her head with an embarrassingly huge smile plastered to her face. “Are you conducting some sort of experiment?”

  “On?”

  “What makes a man sexy.” She snapped her finger and pointed to the ground beside her. Gunner took his position on command. “Because before you pulled up I would have said no man could look sexy driving a PT Cruiser. I stand corrected.”

  Jackson cocked his head to the side, watching Gunner. “I’m not part of any experiment.” He continued looking at Gunner as if he were talking to him. “But I do know the answer to that question.”

  “I have no doubt that you do. I’m sure you see it in the mirror every day. Walk.” She started toward the sidewalk with Gunner right at her side.

  “Nope. But don’t stress over it. I’ll tell you someday. B
y the way … I think I’m in love with your dog.”

  “You’ve only just met.”

  “Well he’s beautiful and well behaved. No leash?”

  “He doesn’t need one.”

  “What if a rabbit or squirrel runs out in front of him?”

  “He doesn’t do anything without my command.”

  “I once knew a Marley reincarnation.”

  “Yours?” Ryn looked up at Jackson, squinting against the setting sun.

  “No. This doctor I knew got it for his girlfriend. He tried to get her to take it to obedience school, but I think they dropped out after the first day. The mutt was a nightmare.”

  “Gunner was trained to be a guard dog. I don’t think I’d be able to sleep at night if I didn’t have him.”

  “Because you’re single?”

  “Because I’m divorced.” Ryn kept her eyes focused ahead. “I left an abusive relationship. He didn’t want to accept it even after I filed the restraining order. I don’t like guns, but I needed a way to feel safe.”

  “Gun-ner.” Jackson smirked. “Nice.”

  “So … I noticed you have some crash-type pads and different equipment in your basement. Are you a boxer?”

  “I’m not a boxer, but I can box. Jillian and I like to spar for a good workout.”

  “Do you know any self-defense moves?”

  His lips twisted to the side. “A few.”

  “Would you be willing to teach me sometime?”

  Jackson didn’t say anything.

  “It’s just that Gunner’s not always with me and I wonder what would happen if the mace on my keychain didn’t work or if I dropped it and was left defenseless. I know I sound paranoid, it’s just—”

  “I’ll teach you.”

  “You will?”

  He nodded.

  “I’ll even pay you or we could barter for the house cleaning.”

  His lips curled into the most mischievous grin. “Bartering … yes, but not for the house cleaning.”

  “Oh …” A cold chill inched up her spine. “Do I want to know what you have in mind?”

  He looked over at her. “I don’t know. Do you?”

  She tried to lighten the moment, thick with suggestion. “If you’re thinking of trying to take Gunner or Maddie, then the answer is no way.”

  “Maddie?”

  “My daughter.”

  “I think you already offered me your daughter.”

  “What? I did not.”

  “You offered to fix us up.”

  “I-I-no … I asked if that’s what you were implying.”

  “And if I would have said yes, you were going to give me her phone number with your blessing.”

  “I most certainly was not.”

  “Why?”

  It was a good question.

  “That’s what I thought.” His smug smile wasn’t sexy. Really it was, but she didn’t want it to be.

  “For your information, my daughter is too young for you.”

  Jackson chuckled. “I’m closer to her age than your age.”

  “So?”

  “So, here we are … on our first date. Don’t you think I’m too young for you?”

  Yes. Of course she did.

  “This isn’t a date. It’s a dog walk.”

  “It’s a date.”

  Ryn shook her head. “It’s not.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re too young for me. There I said it. Happy now?”

  Men like Jackson were put on Earth for one purpose: to rob every ounce of confidence from women like Ryn. They ate it up and saved it for themselves, as if they could possibly need any more. Then they flaunted it to get the attention of the lucky recipients who were Maddie’s age. The twenty-somethings thrived on it.

  “I know all my ABCs. I’m potty trained. I chew with my mouth closed, and I require limited supervision.”

  Ryn didn’t want to laugh, but she did anyway. “Shut up, now you’re just being stupid.”

  “Oh and I can count to one hundred—forward, backward, and even with my eyes shut.”

  She sighed. “Have you ever been married?”

  “No.”

  “Kids?”

  “No.”

  “So our total time spent together so far in the past week has been five hours, and we might not have anything in common, which would only be compounded by our age difference, and you expect me to believe you are seriously interested in me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine,” she huffed, hiding her grin. “I’ll marry you.”

  Jackson laughed. It made her want more.

  More laughter.

  More resplendent smiles.

  He held her gaze, lacing his fingers with hers then gently squeezing her hand. That made her want more too.

  More of his touch.

  More of the happiness that swelled in her heart.

  His touch felt like a spell. For a moment she forgot about her age, her physical imperfections, and the fear that held her hostage to a past she could never escape.

  They finished their walk in silence. It wasn’t awkward, it was perfect. The most indelible moments are spent in quietude with a worthy companion. Gunner had been that worthy companion for years.

  When they reached her front porch, it felt like waking from a dream. Their age difference returned to her thoughts again as all the insecurities she tried to overcome came rushing back. She attempted to release his hand, but he tightened his grip and pulled her to him. He smelled good, really good. Her eyes closed on their own accord as she took a slow inhale, hoping he didn’t notice her trying to smell him.

  “Candles,” he said.

  Ryn opened her eyes.

  “I smell like sex candles.”

  She laughed a little. “Sex candles?” Whatever they were, she needed to buy some.

  “Yes. Jillian sells them and until just recently she’d been using Woody to transport them.”

  Sex candles and then Woody. Maybe she was too old. Clearly they didn’t speak the same language.

  “Well, sex candles smell good on you.”

  He smiled. It was a hungry smile with his tongue wetting his lips.

  “You know what else would smell good on me?” he whispered, ducking his head a breath away from her lips.

  The enormity of his dominating presence wrecked her ability to conjure coherent thoughts and formulate words to go with them.

  “Um … what?” She couldn’t even remember his question. Why were his lips just lingering over hers? It was torturous.

  “You.” He touched her lips, just barely.

  She felt the very tip of his warm tongue touch her top lip.

  “Good night, Ryn.” He strode with extra confidence to his car because he stole hers. He stole everything and left her speechless, standing on the porch with her lips slightly parted, making soft panting noises. Pathetic.

  “Night,” she whispered long after he was gone.

  Chapter Seven

  “How’s AJ?”

  “Still alive.” Jillian shrugged.

  Lilith gave her a reprimanding look. “Char’s a mess. She didn’t take it so well.”

  “I know. That’s what he said. How could she? It’s messed up. Children aren’t supposed to die before their parents.”

  “Is he?”

  “Is he what?”

  “Going to die.”

  Jillian didn’t know the answer to that question. She was too close to the situation to even look at the possibilities with any sort of objectivity.

  “Surgery seems too risky. I think they’ve ruled that out. But it’s beginning to affect his vision so he’s agreed to radiation therapy starting next week after his parents and Brooke leave. They’re arriving later today and they go back home on Sunday.”

  “Yes, Char and I are having coffee. You should join us.”

  “Hmm … I’ll see. Brooke and her family are staying with us. Jackson’s not too thrilled, so I may need to be there as a buffe
r.”

  “He doesn’t like Brooke?” Lilith questioned.

  “She has kids.”

  “He doesn’t like kids?”

  “Just his own.”

  “He has kids?”

  Jillian laughed. “Not yet, but he’s working on it.”

  “Sounds like a story.”

  “It probably will be, but it’s still in the prologue.”

  “And yours and Luke’s?”

  “It’s just getting good.” Jillian grinned.

  *

  Day

  “How did killing Four make you feel?”

  Luke was more determined than ever to work through Jessica’s past, lay it to rest, and begin their future. She liked the future part, but lacked motivation to deal with the past since the night they’d had sex. However, he knew it bothered her that they hadn’t had it again after that first time with her bound to her bed—that had been a month earlier. Luke found plenty of excuses and ways to distract her, the dog being the biggest one.

  “Why can’t I move in with you?” She sat on his bed with Jones, who wasn’t supposed to be on his bed or any of the furniture.

  “Because you’re a slob. Down.” He snapped his fingers at Jones and pointed to the floor.

  Jones rested his head on Jessica’s leg in defiance.

  “I’m not when I’m at your place.”

  “You are.” He gave up on the stubborn—contumacious—dog and continued with his crossword puzzle, staying in the chair by the window. Luke wouldn’t go near her in his bed. It was a bad idea.

  “Give me one example.”

  “One of your shoes is right there on the floor and the other is in the middle of my hallway. You ‘clean’ my kitchen counter by wiping the crumbs onto the floor. You ‘organize’ your purse by emptying gum wrappers and toothpicks onto my coffee table and leaving them there. After you wash your hands in the bathroom you flick your fingers before grabbing the towel and leave water spots on my mirror. And you’re always taking books from my bookshelf and you never put them back.”

  Jessica frowned while petting Jones. “Jeez, I just said one.”

  He smirked at her pathetic attempt at pouting. She was the world’s worst pouter, and he’d told her as much so many times. Anyone trained to kill could not pout. Period.

  “Answer my question.”

  She flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “After I killed Four I felt different.”