The Girl in the Mirror (Sand & Fog #3)

by Susan Ward

  I step into the room and my legs stop working.

  Oh. Fuck. Me.

  Krystal always looks beautiful, but no, never like this. Loose curls messy around her face. Low neckline. Hem up to her ass. Heels instead of flats, making that tight backside pop. Everything showing enough to tease me and in exactly the right way.

  I can’t breathe. She never dresses like this at the main house. But what do I know? Maybe this is how she dresses for Daryl the idiot when she goes out with him.

  No, don’t want to think about that. Brain and body are too honed in on her as it is. I need to kill that insta-stiff in my shorts, but if it wasn’t Krystal I’d think she was trying to get me heated up and interested in her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I shift my gaze to find her watching me.

  “Nothing. Madison wants to head out. Are you ready to go?”

  “Well, that’s not very flattering,” she taunts and then laughs. “Can’t you tell?”

  Somehow I manage to nod. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  She moves ahead of me to the door. My eyes lock on how her backside shimmies. Heels. Oh, she should definitely wear heels more often.

  We go to the foyer, and I open the front door and try not to watch her as she steps out. She’s a job, not a girl. A job, not a girl. Don’t mess this up, Jake.

  She stops and leans over to adjust a shoe strap.

  My gaze follows the slow rise of her hem.

  I break out in a cold sweat

  Just like that, the rational voice in my head is obliterated.

  Chapter Twenty

  “We’ve lost them. Madison drives like a maniac. You’re going to have to tell me where we’re going.”

  Krystal laughs. “Maybe I should have driven. But this is PCH, Jacob. Not complicated. It’s a few miles up the highway on the beach side.”

  Both the laughter and the taunt make me want to look at her, but no, don’t do it. Why is she curled in the seat that way? Close to me, like this really is a date. And her dress, what there is of it, barely covers any of her legs when she sits.

  Who’d have thought she had legs like those under all the unflattering clothes? Long, muscled, creamy flesh and torture. I didn’t notice how epic they were this morning on the beach, but then she’d been hiding them in those too long, too baggy shorts.

  She’s not hiding them now.

  My gaze runs her petite form. Another thing I have to stop doing—checking her out—but the more I look, the more I want to look again.

  I’ve got to stop torturing myself. It’s not like I didn’t know she had a good bod. She’s a ballerina. What did I expect? Cankles and thunder thighs? Every day I watch her in the studio. But in the studio her body is covered in layers of dance clothes. It makes her look so innocent and sweet, but with bare flesh, there’s nothing to hide from me how beautiful every inch of her is.

  I lock my eyes on the road. I have to get over it. Every time I look at her I feel it in my dick. Not good.

  I adjust how I’m sitting.

  “Why do people in Southern California have leather seats? They get too hot too fast.”

  Damn.

  Hot in my pants.

  Good one, Jake.

  She chokes back laughter as she hits a button. “You forgot to turn on the AC. Seat coolers.”

  “Thanks,” I say, smiling fast at her before looking back at the road.

  “No problem. I should have probably driven. It’s just it seemed more of a couple thing to let you drive even though it’s my car. It’s what Madison expects. That’s how it worked with Daryl—”

  She breaks off, sinking her teeth into her lower lip, and eases back from me.

  Daryl.

  Fuck, why’d she have to mention him?

  It’s changed the vibe in the car, though I should probably welcome it because the woody’s softened a bit.

  I study her for a moment. “He’s not bothering you, is he?”

  Happy sparkle gone.

  She looks pensive and sad.

  Guilt blends with the other uncomfortable things I’m feeling. Daryl the idiot was her boyfriend. He must mean something to her, and I jumped in and ended that for her.

  She shrugs. “No, he’s not bothering me. Not really. One call. One text. But that’s it.”

  She looks disappointed.

  “You’re better off without him.”

  Her eyes flash. “You don’t know anything about Daryl and me.”

  The dude ties her to a bed. What more do I need to know? Not a guy you should cry a river over.

  My jaw clenches. “I know enough to know you shouldn’t be with a jerk like that.”

  She shakes her head and exhales in exasperation. “He’s not a jerk.”

  Why is she sticking up for him?

  There, the restaurant.

  I turn into the lot, telling myself to let that last comment go.

  My fingers tighten on the steering wheel. “If he wasn’t a jerk he wouldn’t have punked out when I got in his face. Guys like Daryl are all the same. Manipulative assholes with girls when there isn’t someone around to put them in their place.”

  Her crystal-blue eyes grow more incensed. “Oh, so you’re the better guy because you know how to use your fists and a gun?”

  We’re parked and I turn in my seat to lean into her. “No, I’m the better guy because I would never disrespect you that way.”

  Her eyes go wide and then her smile lights up her face. “You better stop it, Jacob. I might start thinking you really like me.”

  The last part trails off on a raspy whisper that runs my nerves like electricity, and I’m not sure if she’s being flirty or messing with me—my eyes fix on her parted lips—but I know which one I want it to be. The delusional answer because I want to kiss her in the worst way.

  “I’m just telling it how I see it. I think your dad would agree with me about Daryl.”

  She pulls back first, and inwardly I groan. That was the perfect entry to revealing in a small way what I really feel, and instead I shot myself down with my own mouth.

  I spot Madison’s car and pull the keys from the ignition. “Let’s go find Maddy and Nick.”

  Krystal climbs out of the car quickly before I can get around to her side to open it for her, and hurries up the walk in front of me in girl being angry style.

  The car incident is going to make this another fun day with Krystal. There’s got to be some way to walk a line between pissing her off every two seconds and making a move on her.

  She reaches to open the restaurant door, and I plant my palm there, stopping it. “Listen, about what I said. Daryl wouldn’t bother me if I didn’t like you, Krystal.”

  She swallows, rapidly scans my face, and then a bit of her unapproachableness wanes. A smile fills her eyes. “There you go again, saying something sweet.”

  I grin. “Even a Rambo who uses his fists can be sweet.”

  Crap, did I say that?

  The smile reaches her mouth this time. “You’re not a Rambo, Jacob Merrick. I don’t know what you are, but you’re not that.”

  She didn’t call me a nice guy. Time to take my winnings from the table and move on. I slip my hand into hers. “I’m your boyfriend for the weekend.”

  “That is if we break up on Monday.”

  That one was easy to read.

  Just a joke.

  “Don’t break my heart while you do it,” I tease.

  She laughs, amused. “Don’t break my heart as you walk away.”

  When her eyes lock on mine, my brain deserts me. “I could never break your heart, Krystal,” I whisper, and how quickly her smile vanishes makes me want to reclaim those words.

  As I open the door, I can’t block the thought that girls like her break the hearts of guys like me, my walking away on Monday is going to be short lived, and I can’t get carried away with this.

  Tuesday I’m o
ff to Manhattan with her.

  Kissing her in the car would have been another bonehead move. Thank God I didn’t lose control. I need to kill the fantasy that I could ever get anything real going with her. And I need to shut off that want to kiss and touch her.

  I don’t have a chance of ever being anything to Krystal. To be the guy she defends instead of Daryl. The guy who treats her how she deserves.

  It’s what I want, but it’s never going to happen.

  Face the ugly truth waiting in the future for you, Jake.

  You’re the guy who gets a ringside seat in Manhattan as she finds another Daryl.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Krystal”

  Abandoning the idea of finishing my lunch, I set down my fork on my plate of grilled salmon and steamed veggies as another flutter against my shoulder sends a new blast of heated discomfort through me.

  I look left, seeing fingers dancing on me there, and then shift my gaze right to find Jacob smiling at her, fully engaged in whatever they’ve been babbling about for the last half hour.

  I struggle to find a way into the conversation, but no, not happening. Both my ability to concentrate and speak deserted me the moment I slipped into the booth to be awkwardly pinned between Jacob and Sierra.

  Why did Madison’s friends have to showed up in full force at The Cove to crowd us, and why does Jacob’s arm have to rest behind my shoulders, and what’s with the touching?

  My brows lower as I covertly study him—though I don’t have to be stealth about it, because his eyes are locked on her as he listens to the drivel from her mouth unwantedly pouring into my left ear.

  Volleyball.

  Who the hell can talk so much about that boring sport?

  Sierra can, and apparently Jacob can, too.

  Maybe I should slip from the table and let them have at it, which undoubtedly is what she wants if how she’s turned toward us in a posture that pushes her boobs forward so they are in both our faces is a tell.

  Can that girl be any more obvious?

  I lean back in the booth to no longer block a clear view between them and push my plate away. No point in trying to finish—I lost my appetite when Sierra joined us. Her being within a hundred yards of me is a potent hunger blocker even surrounded by the aroma lingering from platters left by two artisan pizzas, a tower of onion rings, and a variety tray of fried macaroni and cheese with dip.

  Hello, waitperson, they’re devoured and wiped clean. Can you get rid of the dishes finally? God, why do the wrong foods always smell so good? No, I’m not reaching for that lonely onion ring left on the tower.

  Another tantalizing glide of his fingertips against my flesh pulls me from my food preoccupation, this time down my shoulder to my arm. My insides shimmy as my brain holds up a yellow card. This is only part of the act we’re putting on, but enough already with the PDAs and the wandering hand.

  Two hours of this. Worse, he’s done it by hardly noticing me in his Sierra obsession, and the unfamiliar sensations building too rapidly are as infuriating as the mocking awareness that I like it. As humiliating as this is, I can’t escape how it feels.

  There, I’ve admitted it to myself, now time to make it go away. Though I never thought I’d become so aware of a guy in this dreadful circumstance.

  I stare down at the table, feeling my temper build.

  True, it was my idea for Jacob to pretend he was my boyfriend. But I didn’t say he could touch me, and damn it, I didn’t expect to like it. Never with this guy. Awkward, introverted—and, yes, undeniable male hottie—Jacob.

  Why can’t I maintain control over my body?

  I don’t want to feel anything and I can’t block it.

  Another unexpected thing: he’s one of those guys. The unassuming girl magnet. Every one of Madison’s girl friends at the table has been dewy-eyed over him.

  Ding.

  Carefully, I angle my phone from beneath the napkin on my lap to read the text.

  Maddy: Convo. Now.

  Me: Bathroom.

  I hear a ding across the table and she nods before slyly sneaking from the table.

  Closing my hand around my cell as I toss the napkin on the table, I start to move and run into a wall. No easy getaway for me and I wonder how long it will be before Jacob takes a breath from talking so I can ask him to move from the seat beside me.

  I wait, exhale, then decide to interrupt. “Can you move, please? I need to use the ladies’ room.”

  Jacob looks at me, startled, and my insides chill because nothing says a guy’s not thinking about you faster than being surprised to find you there…and jeez, Sierra’s pushing toward him so much I’m practically sitting on his lap.

  My gaze narrows. “Will you move?”

  He flushes and stands. “Sorry. Do you want me to pay the check so we can get out of here?”

  I contain my reaction to that one. Oh, anxious to leave, are we? I wonder where me, Jacob, and Sierra are off to now.

  My mouth tightens. “I’ll take care of it on my way back to the table. I never expected you to buy lunch for everyone. It’s pricy here even though it looks like a dive.”

  His color deepens, and I can see my comment embarrassed him. Rat farts, that was an all kinds of wrong statement. Makes him look like a loser and makes me look like a bitch.

  “No, I’ll take care of the check,” he says in quietly. “I’ll be waiting by the door for you.”

  Without another word, I hurry away.

  I barrel into the bathroom to find Maddy at the sink, leaning into the mirror, fixing the tiny specks of mascara around her eyes, and fully intend to unload on her since Sierra’s her friend.

  Catching my reflection, her eyes fly wide and she exclaims, “I’m sorry,” as she whirls to face me. “It’s not my fault. Don’t blame me.”

  Well, this is the cherry on the cake of my day: coming face-to-face with the fact that my irritation over the Jacob-Sierra blooming romance was transparent.

  I close my eyes and take in several gulps of air. No, not working. I’m furious.

  “How could you invite her here?”

  “I didn’t. She showed up on her own.” She fretfully runs her fingers through her hair. “She must have heard us talking about it at the beach and decided to barge in. I would never do anything so awful to you on purpose. No one is more pissed off at her than I am. It’s never all right to stalk another girl’s guy, but what kind of girl does it when he’s with his girlfriend? Totally never saw that one coming. She’s my teammate and one of my closest friends. I can’t believe she did that to me.”

  Pièce de résistance. Her feeling sorry for me before she makes my humiliation about her.

  “Did you really say that part about not being able to believe she did that to you, Maddy?”

  “I’m sorry, K-bell. I don’t know what I’m saying. And for what it’s worth, I think Jacob is even less into how she’s behaving than you are. He did not look like a happy camper at the table. He looked really worried about how this was going down with you.”

  I stare at her, stunned. Did we just spend two hours in different restaurants? Jacob not into it? He’s probably already gotten her phone number. What the heck was Madison watching at the table?

  I shake my head as I search for words. Pointless. Nothing worth saying here. Madison the peacemaker, though did she actually think that Jacob not into it comment had a chance of flying?

  I shrug. “It doesn’t matter. Jacob can do what he wants. Even if he wants that.”

  She laughs at the way I call Sierra that and then pouts.

  “Don’t pretend with me. I saw your face back there. Why do you think I asked for a convo? I didn’t know what else to do. Never once did I ever see you this upset over Daryl, and he was jerk-guy sometimes when other girls were around. You never got upset at him. But, whoa, you should have seen your face. You really like Jacob, don’t you?”

  That was said hopefully an
d I tuck my phone into my bag as something to do rather than look at her. “Don’t get all excited, Maddy. We’re still in the getting to know each other phase.”

  “You like him, don’t pretend you don’t. Not with me.” She laughs, giddy, and then growls. “And I could smack the crap out of Sierra for what she did. I felt so bad, like I’m ruining something that could become really good for you. And I didn’t mean to. And I didn’t mean for Sierra to tag along.”

  “Can we just pay the check and get out of here?”

  “Sure, K-bell. But I am going to rip into Sierra first chance I get. Not cool what she did. Not cool at all.”

  “No. Don’t bother, Maddy. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Well, it does to me,” she says fiercely as she holds the bathroom door open for me. “And don’t tell me again not to. It’s a slap to my face, too. If she fucks with you she’s fucking with me. No way I’m letting that go.”

  We walk down the hallway and I spot Jacob in the entry area. “Jacob is waiting by the door for me. I think we’re going to cut out,” I tell her.

  She nods vigorously. “Good idea. Give you guys some alone time. Don’t be too hard on him. Honestly, the guy looked uncomfortable and not interested in her. Meet you back at the house after I’ve had a few words with Sierra.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Madison races back toward the table in girl ready to kick ass mode as I make a right to where Jacob is waiting for me.

  Angry words bubble to my lips, but I hold them in check, because the things I have to say to him are better said in private. And definitely out of earshot of Sierra. Though why that should matter, I’m not sure, except that she’s rude and I’m positive she’d eat up my reading Jacob the riot act over flirting with her.

  Yes, that’s the MO of girls like Sierra and I’m not going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she really pissed me off.

  When I reach Jacob, he slips his hand into mine as he pushes the door open. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he whispers in unmistakable relief.

  Once outside, his hand drops from mine and his posture collapses as he groans again. “I was ready to be out of there an hour ago. How did you stand it? Another minute of Sierra talking about herself and volleyball, and I seriously would have lost my shit.”