by LuAnn McLane
Jessica sighed and swiped at a stupid tear that leaked out of the corner of her eye. She was falling hard for Ty, and it made her shake in her boots. While leaning her head against the rough wall, she fisted her hands and wanted to scream in frustration. She was so damned afraid to open up her heart! The rejection by her very own parents and the disappearance of Clayton had left scars so deep that she didn’t think she could ever heal.
Jessica heard footsteps and opened her eyes, hoping that Ty was indeed returning, but it was Madison and Bella heading her way.
“There you are!” Madison said with a shake of her head. “Mom, why are you over here in the corner?” She and Bella hurried closer. “Ohmigosh, Mom, have you been crying?”
“No!”
Madison exchanged a glance with Bella and then peered at her mother closely. “You have so.”
Jessica’s chuckle sounded more like a gurgle. “It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to.”
“Mom! Did Ty say something to upset you?”
“No . . . Yes . . .” She bit her bottom lip and glanced away.
Bella stepped forward. “Oh, Jess, this is totally my fault! I came up with the stupid plan to make you jealous, so I gushed all over him. I am such a doucher!”
Jessica chuckled in spite of her misery, making Bella give Madison a worried glance.
“No, Mom hasn’t gone off her rocker.” Madison shook her head, making her curls bounce. “She laughs every time I say doucher too. She won’t say it, but Aunt Myra does, and she laughs even harder.”
“Oh,” Bella said, and then turned to Jessica. “Well, then, what’s wrong? Come on and tell us!” She raised her eyebrows and jammed her thumb over her shoulder. “Or do you want me to leave?”
“Of course not,” Jessica answered. “Bella, you’re like a daughter to me.”
“Then explain,” Bella urged. “What did Ty do?”
Jessica inhaled a deep breath and then blurted out, “He kissed me!”
Madison raised her eyebrows. “And?”
“I liked it!” she admitted, and felt color rise in her cheeks.
“A kiss from Ty McKenna!” Madison slapped her leg. “Now, there’s a birthday present!” She laughed, but then sobered. “Hey, wait. Then why were you crying?”
“And where did he go?” Bella wanted to know. “You want me to hunt him down?”
Jessica closed her eyes and swallowed. “I chased him away.”
“Why?” Madison asked gently.
Jessica looked at her daughter and felt like even more of a dumb-ass. She hesitated and then revealed the one thing she had always hidden from Madison. “I am so afraid,” she slowly admitted.
“Oh, Mom, I was too,” Madison said softly, and put her hands on Jessica’s shoulders.
“Yes, and that was my doing!” she said hotly. “I raised you to be so strong and so damned independent and not to rely on anyone but yourself.” She shook her head. “I was wrong to make you think it was a sign of weakness to ever need anyone in your life. I am so sorry.”
“Mom,” Madison said firmly, “I think I turned out pretty good. Don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, quit beating yourself up. You might be forty years old, but you’ve still got living and learning left to do.”
“What should I do?”
“Chase after him,” Bella chimed in.
Jessica widened her eyes. “I can’t do that!”
Madison crossed her arms over her chest. “Mom, weren’t you the one who told me not to have can’t in my vocabulary?” She pointed to Jessica’s thighs. “You have two legs. Use them.”
“No! I will not chase after him!”
Madison sighed. “You won’t be chasing him. You’ll be . . . tracking him down. Take him a piece of cake or something.”
“No!”
“Then you’re not getting your birthday gift,” Bella said stubbornly, and scooped up the pink bag.
Jessica chuckled and reached for the bag, but Bella held it out of reach. “You can’t be serious.”
Bella angled her head. “Not usually, but this time I am. No chase—I mean, tracking down—then no gift.” She waggled her eyebrows. “And it is lovely. Mom created it especially for you.”
“You’re not playing fair,” Jessica protested, and looked to Madison for support.
Madison pressed her lips together and then said, “Mom, don’t be a douche nozzle!”
“You two are impossible!” Jessica felt her lips twitch and she laughed. “So if I chase—I mean, track down—Ty, I get my gift?”
“Win-win,” Bella answered. “So . . .”
“Give me the present,” she answered, but Bella hesitated.
“She never goes back on her word,” Madison assured Bella, who then handed over the bag.
“Happy birthday!” Bella folded her hands together in anticipation while Jessica opened it up.
“Oh, it is exquisite!” Jessica breathed softly as she lifted the delicate coral-and-turquoise bracelet from the box. “It matches my necklace! Bella, Nicolina is truly gifted,” she said, and hooked the bracelet onto her wrist. “I wish she could have come with you.”
“Me too,” Bella admitted. “She was simply up to her eyeballs in orders. Mom does a lot of jewelry for weddings, and this is the season. But now off with you!”
“Go, Mom!” Madison made shooing motions with her hands.
“I can’t leave my own party.”
“It’s winding down anyway, except for the die-hard partiers. I’m going to run in there and get you some cake, and then you’re going to march right over to Ty’s condo. Okay?”
“Do I have to?” Jessica groaned, and put her hand to her stomach. “Really? Come on, girls. It’s my birthday. Give me a break.”
Madison sighed. “Bella, you hold her here while I get the cake. Don’t let her out of your sight.”
“Gotcha.” Bella turned to Jessica. “Okay, girlfriend. You’re not going anywhere on my watch,” she promised, but then softened. “Seriously, Jess, you can do this. Ty McKenna is just a dude.”
“Right.” Jessica nodded and then tried for a smile when Madison appeared with a plate full of cake and a shot glass. “What is that?” she pointed to the drink.
Madison raised the glass. “Some good ole Kentucky bourbon in the form of Woodford Reserve. Small-batch, premium bourbon made in the heart of Kentucky. Pete said only top shelf for you.” She held up the cake. “Liquid courage and a peace offering. And I brought your purse, so you’re good to go.”
Jessica eyed the amber liquid. “I can’t do a shot!”
Madison rolled her eyes. “There you go with that whole can’t thing.” She thrust the bourbon at Jessica. “Just do it.”
Jessica looked imploringly at Bella, but she nodded at the shot glass. “Go for it, Jess.”
Jessica took the shot glass and blinked at it. Finally, she sniffed the contents. “Wow!” The sweet, smoky aroma sliced through her brain like smelling salts clearing her head. “I can’t do this. . . .”
“Mom!”
“Oh . . . okay!” She tossed the bourbon back in one big swallow, thinking it wasn’t so bad, just burned a little, but she actually liked the smooth oak-barrel flavor . . . and then it splashed into her stomach and spread through her system like warm fingers reaching all the way to her toes. She suddenly felt mellow, relaxed, and ready to face Tyler McKenna.
7
The Icing on the Cake
Ty tugged on a pair of black sweatpants that read cougars down one leg. The merchandise for the gift shop had been rolling in, adding to the general excitement that in a little more than a month, the first season for the Cricket Creek Cougars would begin. Of course, Bella had been right. This venture was a risk, but he didn’t care. He’d rather invest in something worthwhile and lose his ass than squander his money on meaningless bullshit.
While Ty and Noah worked hands-on with the team and staff, silent partner Mitch Monroe took care of the money en
d of the project. Young but hardworking Jason Craig kept the nearly complete construction running smoothly, and local landscaper Owen Lawson was doing a bang-up job with getting thick grass to grow on the field. Season-ticket sales had been going strong, and corporate sponsors were showing interest. All in all, everything was coming together, putting Ty in the best frame of mind he had been in for a long time.
Until tonight.
Right this minute, he was frustrated as hell. His little prove-it-to-you kiss had backfired big-time. Just thinking about locking lips with Jessica got him going all over again. Ty raked a hand down his face and groaned. “Damn.” His attraction to her went beyond physical. He admired her culinary talents and work ethic. Ty grinned. And when she let her guard down, she entertained him with her sharp sense of humor. But his grin faded when he thought that at this very moment, she was probably dancing with hotshot Lannigan. He suddenly regretted his decision to leave the party, but his emotions had gotten the best of him.
With a sigh, Ty padded on bare feet into the kitchen. The smooth, cold tile sent a slight chill up his spine, but he didn’t mind. After spending years in hot leather cleats, Ty loved the freedom of bare feet. He opened the refrigerator door and peered at the meager assortment of food: olives, spicy mustard, hot sauce, pickles, one lonely apple taken from a basket of fruit sent to the stadium, bottled water, and expired milk. The rest of the shelves were laden with beer. But not just ordinary beer, he thought in his own defense. Ty was a big fan of microbreweries and placed a high value on flavor, complexity, and quality. He picked up a bottle of Moose Drool from Big Sky Brewing and grinned. Noah thought he was a beer snob, but in reality, Ty appreciated the handcrafted passion that went into brewing the best beer possible. Ty fully understood dedication and the need for success, but what he was just beginning to get was that there was so much more to life, namely sharing it with someone you love.
“Wow,” he said with a sad sigh, and then put the bottle back onto the shelf. Other than the spinach dip, he hadn’t eaten, and his stomach growled in angry protest. He stood there scratching his chest and was contemplating opening the jar of olives when his doorbell rang. Ty frowned and shut the refrigerator door. If it was a pizza-delivery dude at the wrong door, he might just have to claim the order.
He took long strides across the living room in case the delivery dude figured out his mistake, and tugged the door open. He was so dumbfounded to see Jessica standing there that he stared at her in silent confusion instead of inviting her in. Finally, she thrust a plate at him.
“I brought you . . . uh . . .” She looked down at the plate as if she had forgotten what was on it and then added, “Cake.”
“Thank you,” he finally managed, and took the plate from her.
Jessica hefted her purse higher on her shoulder and said, “Well, enjoy. Good night.” It wasn’t until she pivoted on her heel so fast that her ponytail whipped across his chest that Ty located his lost senses.
“Can’t you come in for a while?”
She halted her quick head-down exit and turned around slowly to face him. “I—I should go. You—you look ready for bed,” she added, and then her cheeks turned a cute shade of pink. “Please don’t touch that line,” she pleaded with a slight grin. “Wow, I suck at flirting.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“Apparently not.”
Ty grinned back. There it was again, that unexpected splash of humor. “On the contrary.”
“Really?” She appeared so pleased that Ty chuckled.
“Have you had any cake yet?”
“No. But I did have a shot of bourbon.” She raised one finger in the air, and he realized she was tipsy. Oh, that explains a lot.
“That’ll put hair on your chest,” he teased, but at his comment, her gaze dropped to his bare chest, and she visibly swallowed.
“I guess you’ve been drinking bourbon too.”
Ty chuckled.
“I’m glad you’re not into that whole shaving-your-chest trend.”
“Good to know.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “I don’t know why I felt the need to share that with you. I should go,” she added in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Why, Jessica?” he asked, and when she raised her gaze to meet his, he witnessed a flash of fear that made him want to gather her in his arms and hold her until it melted away.
“Because . . .” she began, but then seemed to be at a loss for a valid reason. “It’s late,” she finally answered. “I have to—” she continued, but Ty reached out and grabbed her hand. Her eyes widened when he tugged her inside the condo, and she stumbled forward and bumped against him, nearly knocking the cake out of his hands. “What do you think you’re doing?” she sputtered, and Ty had to hide his smile. Yes! He wanted spunk, anger, passion, humor—anything but fear.
Oh, and Ty understood. He had steered clear of serious relationships for fear of hurting someone the way his father had crushed his mother. Jessica had been hurt. It was high time that they both put those fears to rest and took a chance. He closed the door with his foot and tugged her toward the kitchen.
“Hey!” she continued to protest, and pulled on his hand. “Let me go!”
“You have to eat cake on your birthday!” he said, and then placed the plate on the table. As soon as he released her hand, she fisted it on her hip and gave him a good glare.
“I don’t appreciate being manhandled.”
Ty raised his palms in the air. “Fine. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
“And you need to put a shirt on.”
“Why?” He reached down and swiped his fingertip through the icing and then slowly licked it off. She watched as if fascinated. “It’s my place and there’s no rule that you have to wear a shirt, but if it’s bothering you or something, I’ll go and put one on.”
She raised her chin a notch. “No, never mind. The sight of your bare chest isn’t really bothering me.”
Ty took a step closer, and to her credit, she stood her ground. “I think it is. I think you’re getting hot and bothered.”
“You are so very, very, absolutely, totally wrong.”
“I think you protest way too much. That could only mean one thing.”
“What?”
“That I’m right.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right.” She frowned. “Wait. I mean, wrong.”
“Then touch me,” he challenged, and took another step closer.
“No! Give me a fork. I want my cake.”
“Chicken?”
“No, I want cake.”
“Are you afraid to touch me, Jessica?” He decided to go ahead and challenge her fear head-on.
“Oh . . .” She tilted her head and gazed up at him, and he waited, fully expecting a sharp protest. “Yes,” she answered so softly that at first he thought he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Ty, it’s been so long that I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
God . . . his heart ached with her honest admission. He knew it was the alcohol that allowed her to speak so freely, and for that reason he should back off. “Jessica, I’m sorry. I’m being an ass.” He started to turn away and get the fork that she had requested, but she reached up and placed one cool hand on his warm skin.
“No. I mean, yeah, you are but . . . oh . . .”
Ty looked down.
It was just a hand. On his chest. No, it was her hand.
And her small act of courage reached in and grabbed his heart much like the exhilaration of making an impossible diving catch and coming up with the ball.
He looked down into those whiskey-colored eyes and he was lost—no, make that captivated. God, she was such a beauty with those full lips, high cheekbones, and perfect nose. And she was talented, smart . . . funny. She should ooze confidence. Own it. But her lips trembled and she swallowed hard. Ty thought she was going to pull away, and he wanted to trap her hand against his body, but he refrained. This was up to her. He wouldn’t force it.
Her shoulders rose and fell with each breath she took, but instead of removing her hand, she placed both palms against his skin. She smoothed her hands over his pecs in a slow, outward sweep and then back in. When her fingernails grazed his nipples, his muscles contracted involuntary, making his abdomen a hard ridge that seemed to fascinate her. She sucked in a breath when she came to the waistband of his sweats. The bulge of his erection was all too visible and left no doubt that he was going commando. He wanted her to touch him there, stroke him, and when she didn’t, a low groan escaped him.
“Jessica . . .” He tilted her head up to look at him. Her cheeks were pink, and she licked her lips. “Touch me.”
“I can’t,” she said in a breathless voice, and then grinned slightly.
“What?” he asked gruffly.
“Madison reminded me earlier that I always told her that can’t wasn’t a part of her vocabulary. She called me out on it.”
“Smart girl,” he joked, but his voice sounded strained.
“Yeah.” She tilted her head, making her golden ponytail slide over her shoulder. She smoothed her hands upward and then back down, coming even closer to his rock-hard penis, almost as if daring herself.
“God!” Ty sucked in a sharp breath. He knew she wasn’t being a tease on purpose, but still. . . . “You’re driving me nuts.”
She looked up, startled, and pulled her hand back. “Oh! I’m sorry. I should really go!”
“Would you stop saying that? Jessica, I’ve been drawn to you since last summer when we went to that prom for Olivia and Noah.” He shook his head. “No, even before that. I caught glimpses of you at Chicago Blue. And yes, I love your amazing food, but I eat at Wine and Diner almost every night to see you. Surely you must get that.”
“I—”
“Don’t say it. There is no reason you should go unless you really want to.” He looked into her eyes. “Do you?”
She searched his face and then glanced away. “Oh, Ty, I’m way out of my league here. Do I have to spell it out for you?”