Anything for You

by Kristan Higgins

  "You still a slut, Jess?" Jake asked now.

  Great. He was already drunk. "No, I joined a convent after learning I had syphilis. And you are...?" Let him think she forgot him. He'd been forgettable, that was for sure.

  "Jake Green. Bet I could convince you to go back to your slutty ways."

  "You'd lose that bet." Ass.

  "Jess, I for one want to say thank-you," Frankie said. "You sure made high school a lot more fun."

  "And I'd like to thank you, Frankie. For looking out for Davey. You, too, Mark."

  "Oh, man, yeah!" Mark said. "How is he?"

  "He's great." See? It had been a fair trade. And now with the advantage of maturity, Jess could see that if she'd just asked Mark and Big Frankie to look out for her brother back then, they probably would've said yes just because they were nice.

  "Tell the little dude I said hi, okay?" Mark said.

  "I will. Thanks."

  "Let's go somewhere," Jake slurred. "I'll make sure you remember me."

  "Shut up, ass-hat," Frankie sighed. "You never could handle your booze."

  "I'm fine here," Jessica said.

  "Well, maybe I'll follow you home. We can party."

  Did people still say that? "No, thanks."

  "You think you're too good for me now? Trailer-park trash turned ice queen? We'll see about that."

  And then Jake was on the floor, holding his hand over his mouth, which had just been soundly punched by Connor.

  Oh, boy.

  "Get up," Connor growled.

  Immediately, there was a crowd around them. Jake stayed where he was.

  "Get up so I can beat the shit out of you," Connor said.

  "This is really unnecessary, Connor," she said, putting a hand on his arm. He glanced at her. Oh. He was furious. Was it wrong to be a little turned on? Probably. Still, though. He looked... Damn. "It's fine. Jake's just an ass, same as ever."

  "He threatened you." Connor looked back at Jake. "Get up, Green."

  Jake stood up. Great. "Fight," someone said rather cheerfully. Where was Levi? Why was there never a cop around when you needed one?

  "You're gonna fight me over this whore?" Jake asked, and then Connor hit him again, and Jake staggered back, then swung at Connor.

  Jess threw up her hands. "Stop it, please. Frankie, can you do something?"

  "Are you kidding? Jake earned this."

  "I always hated Jake Green," Colleen said. "Lucas, remember him?"

  "I do. If Connor needs any help, I'm here. Also available for body disposal later on."

  "Oh, stop! You know I love when you get all gangster on me."

  "Does anyone care that they're fighting?" Jessica asked. Connor landed a nice hit to the ribs, and Jake grunted. "Jeremy? Nothing?"

  "Doctor's hands," Jeremy said, holding them out. "It's a liability thing. Plus, I never could stand Jake."

  "Where's Levi?" Jess asked.

  "He stepped out to call my dad and check on the baby," Faith said. Connor took a hit to the face, then gave a rather beautiful right cross, knocking Jake right on his ass.

  "Okay, that's enough," Jessica said. "Gerard! Get over here and drive Jake to his parents' place. I assume that's where you're staying, dumb-ass?"

  Jake nodded sullenly, and Gerard hauled him to his feet and led him to the door. "Save me a dance, Jess," he said, grinning.

  Right. There was dancing. The DJ put on a slow song--"Angel" by Dave Matthews--and couples began drifting out to the dance floor.

  Connor was still bristling with anger.

  "Come on, Connor, let's dance." She took his hand and pulled him to the middle of the gym. Put her hand on his shoulder, feeling the heat and hard muscle there. "That was really unnecessary," she said.

  "I just defended your honor. Thanks would be nice." He wasn't looking at her, but his hand was on her waist, making her breath catch a little.

  "My honor is beyond defending." His lip was bleeding. Just a little. She wiped it away with her fingertip. "I can handle the idiots, you know."

  His blue eyes dropped to meet hers. Then he kissed her.

  Aside from Dave Matthews, it sure was quiet all of a sudden.

  Well, there went the whole secret thing. She almost cared.

  Connor was kissing her. She tasted a little wine, and maybe a little blood, and his mouth was firm and hot and he was a little mad, and the kiss wasn't gentle. It was a statement of possession, and her insides pulled in a strong, hot squeeze.

  He broke the kiss, then rested his forehead against hers.

  Her heart was shuddering. Legs shaking.

  "I'm going to make your brother love me," he said, and she laughed, because it was just not what she expected him to say. "I mean it, Jess. And you're gonna let me. I love you. I don't want to be apart anymore. I--"

  "Okay, fine, you win," she said shakily. "Don't make yourself look any more ridiculous than you already have."

  He kissed her again, more gently this time, and her fingers found their way into his thick, wavy hair. "You're not easy, Jessica Dunn," he murmured against her mouth. "You are not easy."

  "Actually, I am. That's the problem."

  He looked so sure, but her worries were already off to the races. What would happen when they were really together, and there was no chase anymore, and their everyday lives consisted of Davey and work and things like furnaces breaking and needing a new car? What would happen when he actually had her?

  "Stop worrying so much," he whispered. He pulled her closer, going for the eighth-grade shuffle, and the feeling of his warm, hard body pressed against hers, slightly sweaty from the fight, made her insides light up in flashes.

  Connor let his hand drop to just above her ass. "If I'd known a punch in the mouth would get me to this moment," he murmured, "I would've had Colleen hit me a long time ago."

  *

  CONNOR LEANED AGAINST the brick wall of his old high school, waiting for Jess to make the call. The reunion was over; Connor was thanked and congratulated by quite a few classmates for beating the snot out of Jake, who'd always been a complete turd of a human.

  "You kids have a fun night," Colleen said, lifting an eyebrow. I told you she was the one.

  It's not like it's news, Dog-Face.

  "Nice job beating on the little shit," Lucas said.

  Connor nodded. His knuckles stung. He didn't mind a bit.

  But now he was going to take his woman home and make love to her.

  Finally.

  Jessica was talking on her phone. "So you sure you don't mind? I'll be back by... Yes. Uh, yeah. How did you... Oh. Gotcha. All right. Thanks, Ned."

  She clicked off her phone and slid it into her purse. "We're not quite the secret I thought we were," she said.

  "Sneaking around had its moments," he said. Had. He was done with that.

  She nodded. Didn't say anything else.

  Shy again. After all these years, even though it was only him.

  "You want to walk home, Jess?"

  "Okay."

  He offered his hand, and after a second's hesitation, she took it. "Connor--"

  "No more rules, Jess. No more lists. Okay? Let's just be together." He kissed her hand and started walking.

  The town was quiet, and they didn't talk. He couldn't remember being happier, but she was nervous, holding his hand a little too tightly, not looking at him.

  They came to the Village, and rather than cut across the green, he steered her toward the little park at the foot of the lake. Since the town rolled up the sidewalks by eleven, it was quiet now, just a few customers still in O'Rourke's. The leaves of the maples sighed in the breeze, and a night bird called, then was silent.

  Jess reached down and slipped off her shoes and took a few steps out onto the dock. Her white dress glowed in the moonlight, and she didn't say anything as she looked out at the lake.

  She was still nervous. It was oddly flattering.

  He followed her out onto the dock, put his arms around her and pulled her bac
k against his chest. Didn't say anything, just breathed in the clean smell of her hair.

  More than anything, he wanted to reassure her that everything would be all right. Wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, that he'd take care of her and never let her down, that she could trust him.

  He kissed her neck instead, and rested his forehead on her shoulder.

  "I forgot to ask," she said. "Did you talk to anyone about your brewery tonight?"

  "No."

  "Why? Tiffy Ames is--"

  "Because I could only think about you."

  She turned to face him, her expression unreadable in the moonlight. An owl called from not too far away.

  Her mouth was soft and sweet under his, and he cupped her head with both hands and kissed her until she was melted against him, her arms around his neck, her fingers in his hair, and when a little moan came from her throat, it almost felled him.

  "Let's go home," he said, and she nodded.

  His house didn't feel so generic with her in it. The second the door was closed, he kissed her again, pushing her against the wall, lust tearing through him. Go slow, go slow, the last thinking part of his brain said, and he tried. Sort of. He failed.

  He was starving for her, and she wasn't pulling any punches, either. Mouth, tongue, teeth, all in a greedy feast of flesh. She wasn't being sweet now, no, sir, and thank God for that. She shoved his jacket off, yanked his shirt out of his waistband and slid her cool hands up his hot sides, then went to the button of his pants.

  He stopped her, pinning her hands by the sides of her face, and lowered his mouth to her neck. God, she tasted good, so many layers of flavor, the lemony soap, a hint of perfume, the taste of her skin itself. He released her hands and slid them down her sides, then up her front to cup her breasts. No bra, God, thank you. His thumbs teased over her nipples, and she bit down on his lip, reminding him of the hit he'd taken there earlier. Then her mouth opened and their tongues slid together, and his thigh was between hers, pressing hard, her dress riding up, and he was practically blind with lust now, just flares of light and the feeling of Jessica.

  "Take your hair down," he rasped, and she stepped away from him and reached to the back of her head. Her hair slid down around her shoulders, swinging, catching the faint light from the street.

  Then she reached down, grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head in one glorious move.

  No bra. White lace panties.

  Black high heels.

  He'd die if he waited any longer. With one quick move, he scooped her up, all that silken skin, her hair as cool as water, and carried her to the living room and dumped her unceremoniously on the couch, falling on top of her.

  She was laughing now, and the sound...the sound just told him what he already knew.

  He loved Jessica Dunn.

  He always had.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  "LOOK AT THAT SMILE. You're gross."

  Connor looked up at his sister. "Now you know how I feel about you and Lucas."

  "So she finally took pity on you, huh?"

  "Yep." Quite a few times over the past five days, as a matter of fact. He grinned.

  "Stop smiling! You're disgusting. Congratulations."

  "Thank you."

  It was nine o'clock on Wednesday morning, and they were in O'Rourke's kitchen. Connor was working on the paella, a spicy New Orleans-inspired dish with shrimp, scallops, crawfish tails, mussels, chorizo, roasted red peppers, red onion and garlic, and the smell was making him nearly drunk. He also had to start the soup, which would be French onion, because it was cold and rainy today, and he'd guess they'd sell out of both.

  Colleen was taking up space. More and more these days. "You feeling okay?" he asked.

  "I guess so. Kind of uncomfortable."

  "Got her name picked out yet?"

  "You're so sure it's a girl, aren't you?" She smiled. "We want the name to be a surprise."

  "And yet you'll tell your big brother."

  "So Lucas thinks she'll be Amelia, but I was thinking it'd be nice to name her after his mom. Isabelle. She died when he was little."

  "That's beautiful, Dog-Face."

  She scowled at him. "I barely recognize you. You're all cheerful and nice. It's freaky. But listen, as long as you're on a roll, and don't be mad at me, because I'm pregnant and have horrible heartburn and you have to pity me. Dad's coming in this morning to see you."

  "Why?"

  "He has something to tell you."

  "What?"

  "Let him tell you. I have to pee. This baby must have both knees right on my bladder. Besides, Dad just walked in. Bye. Be nice."

  She left, and Connor growled. Felt a pang of sympathy heartburn, which irritated him. He finished cutting the shrimp, then the sausage, then tossed them into the pot. Washed his hands carefully, twice. Wiped down the counter. He didn't mind making his father wait in the least.

  Then, with a sigh, he went into the restaurant. Pete was sitting at a table. "Hey, son," he said, standing up. "How are you?"

  "Fine. How are you?" Completely polite.

  "Sit down, sit down." His father gave him that laser-white smile. Connor waited.

  "So. Uh, things are good? Colleen says you're starting a brewery? That's wonderful. Can I do anything to help?"

  "No, thanks."

  "Well, if you change your mind, or need financing, or... I'm here."

  Connor waited some more. Being the quiet twin had its advantages.

  Pete O'Rourke took a deep breath. "I have some news. Good news, I think. Well, no, it's definitely good news. Um... Gail is pregnant. It's a boy this time."

  So that was why Gail looked like hell lately.

  Connor waited to feel something. Nothing came.

  He'd be thirty-three years older than this kid. Old enough to be the father. His father, odds were, would be dead by the time the kid graduated from college. Gail the Tail was pushing forty herself.

  Oddly, the only thing he felt was pity.

  "Best wishes," he said.

  "Son, I just want you to know that you'll always be--"

  "I'm not ten. There's no need for a pep talk. I'll be a good brother."

  "I already know that." Pete looked at him, with difficulty, it seemed. "Connor, it's just that ever since Savannah was born, there's been this distance between us."

  "The distance was there long before Savannah. You just didn't notice."

  "It seems to have gotten worse."

  "Well, yeah. Come on, Dad. You made a laughingstock out of my mother. The middle-aged man with a hot babe on the side, proving his virility by getting her pregnant."

  "But Gail and I have been married for almost eleven years now. Even your mother has found someone else. She's even getting married again. And I'm a good father to Savannah, aren't I?" The question wasn't boasting. He wanted an answer.

  "You are," Connor conceded. "Listen, I have work to do. Congratulations on the baby. I hope everything goes well."

  "That's it?"

  "Did you think there'd be more?"

  Pete looked at the table. "I guess not."

  "I'm not trying to punish you, Dad," Connor said. "I just don't want anything from you."

  His father flinched. "Got it."

  Connor stood up and went back into the kitchen. Through the window, he could see his father, sitting at the table for another minute before getting up to leave.

  Did Pete think they were going to toss a ball around? Go camping together? They hadn't done that when Connor was ten.

  It was strange, therefore, that he felt an unsettling sense of guilt all the same.

  *

  JESSICA LEFT BLUE HERON for lunch, something she didn't often do. "I hear you're sleeping with my son," Jeanette said as Jess went through the tasting bar.

  "Oh...hi, Jeanette." Jess felt the blush creep up from her chest.

  "I approve, don't worry," the other woman said. "Hey, I just had a thought. Would you like to be one of my bridesmaids? Co
lleen's my matron of honor, and Paulie's a bridesmaid, and Carol Robinson was saying that older women never get to be in wedding parties, so she's in, too. What do you say? It'd be nice to have my son's girlfriend here. Maybe you two will be next." She beamed at Jessica and raised her eyebrows.

  Oh, God. What had Connor been telling people? Jess took a steadying breath. "What a nice offer, Jeanette." She'd never been a bridesmaid before, but serving at Jeanette's...it was an odd thought. A sweet thought, too.

  "Guess what!" Marcy burst in the front door, shaking the rain from her hair like a puppy. "I just got John Holland approved as justice of the peace! Is that freaking genius or what? People can have the owner of the vineyard perform their ceremony! What a fantastic idea! I can't believe I didn't think of it before! High five, Jeanette! Hey, you want him to do you and the Chicken King?"

  "Oh, what a great idea! Our daughters are best friends, after all."

  It was a good idea. "Nice job," Jessica said. She'd give credit where it was due. Who wouldn't want John Holland performing the ceremony? Marcy was right.

  Since the press release, Marcy had been doing more and more PR. Well, she'd been trying to. She suggested events for the vineyard, though none of them had been green-lighted; at this point in the year, the calendar was full with everything from a full-moon ride in a horse-drawn wagon to Wags and Wine, a pet show/wine tasting. Again, all Jess's domain, all firmly under control, all proven successes.

  But at this week's staff meeting, Marcy had spoken up again. "I don't know if you do this kind of thing, but it might be really motivational if we hosted a sales retreat this fall," Marcy had said, going on to suggest contests and prizes for those who sold the most wine at the tasting bar, opened new accounts in stores and restaurants, came up with new promotions for the vineyard. "If it's in the budget, we could have a weekend retreat at a nice resort, or down in the city, complimentary massages or tickets to a show."

  It was a great idea, and one that Jessica actually considered, as well. Almost to the letter. She'd outlined the idea about six months ago, but held off; a lot of companies did this kind of thing, but it was expensive, too, and the vineyard had taken a bit of a hit with all the snow last winter.

  But Honor had considered it, asked a few questions and made a note on her iPad, all while Jessica mentally chastised herself for not going ahead with it. The worst they could say was no; she shouldn't have been so hesitant.