Beck glanced at the clock on the wall. "It's 2:00 a.m."
"I think I can handle the dark," he said, trying for a dry tone. Deep down, he knew his words weren't exactly true. There was darkness in his mind, in his soul, and he'd never handled them. Would he ever?
CHAPTER FIVE
BROOK LYNN LIFTED her arms overhead, arched her back and extended her legs while pointing her toes. As she stretched, the heavy ache of slumber gradually receded from each of her limbs. Sunlight spilled over her, warming her. The seductive scent of masculine musk mixed with the pleasant fragrance of honey and oats enveloped her, fusing with the very fabric of her being. The softness of the sheet beneath her paired with the comforter above her made her feel as though she'd been swathed by clouds. It was, quite simply, heaven on earth. Something she hadn't experienced in a very long time. If ever.
The only thing that would have made the moment better was a bowl of her French toast casserole, baked with layers of fresh bread, heavy cream, brown sugar and the pecans that fell from the tree shrouding her front porch.
Her stomach rumbled, all get up and prepare this now.
She blinked open her eyes. An unfamiliar--no, slightly familiar--setting greeted her. A single window was draped by navy blue curtains. Minimal furnishings: a bed, two nightstands and a dresser. The wood floor was scuffed. Realization struck, and she frowned. She'd been here once before--and it had not been an enjoyable experience.
Realization struck a second time. This was Jase's bedroom.
She jolted upright, her heart a wild cascade against her ribs as she zeroed in on the damage she had caused here. The nightstand with a crack, nothing more looked ready to crumble. The "ugly" lamp was a porcelain beauty marred by a crater.
The dark brown comforter on the bed--moved.
Gasping, she scrambled back...falling off the edge of the bed and hitting the floor with a loud thump. She jumped to shaky legs, ready to defend herself from--
"Jessie Kay?"
A soft, sleepy moan registered, followed by a breathy sigh. Relief poured through Brook Lynn as her sister rolled to her side, soon returning to a sleep coma anyone suffering with exhaustion would envy.
A quick scan proved the girl was unharmed and fully dressed, missing only her shoes. Brook Lynn was fully dressed and without shoes, as well, wearing the same T-shirt and shorts she'd worn last night. But though she searched, she found no sign of their footwear.
Bits and pieces of memory teased the fringe of her mind. Searching bar after bar with West and Beck while Jase opted to guard the car. At some point she must have fallen asleep. She had a vague recollection of Jase carrying her to his bedroom. For a moment, she'd thought she was floating. Then she'd felt a strong heartbeat against her temple...steel-hard arms undergirding her...the most delicious heat wrapping around her.
Why hadn't Jase taken her and Jessie Kay home? To their home? And dang it, where was her cell phone? If she didn't call Edna soon, there would be hell to pay. Who was she kidding? There was already hell to pay. The clock beside the bed proclaimed 10:03 in bold red numbers. Brook Lynn was seriously late. And if she lost that job...
She stalked into the bathroom, took care of business and washed up quickly, brushing her teeth with paste on her index finger. It wasn't ideal, but the only other option was using Jase's toothbrush, and she would rather die than allow his mouth to come that close to hers, even by proxy.
Her reflection revealed a bedraggled mess with rosy cheeks and eyes sparking wildly. With anticipation? Excitement? No, no. Of course not. More like frustration and annoyance.
In the hallway, the scent of bacon and eggs saturated the air, causing her mouth to water and her stomach to rumble all over again. She hadn't had a decent meal in... Crap, when was the last time she'd had a decent meal? There was rarely enough time to shop or cook, even though she loved to do both, so she usually snacked on bread and cheese at Two Farms.
Won't be able to do that anymore.
Before she could work up another cry over the loss of a major source of income, the sound of banging registered. She followed the noise to the kitchen, where two plates piled high with food rested on the table. Somehow she found the strength to keep walking without snatching a piece of bacon--or twelve.
Hinges creaked as she pushed her way outside. The temperature instantly rose...oh, if she had to take a guess, she'd say seven hundred degrees. Bright rays of sunlight burned her eyes.
Squinting, she padded onto the cement. "Ow, ow, ow." It burned, too! She jumped onto the soft grass, two black birds taking flight in front of her. She scanned the yard--and finally found the source of the banging. Jase, with a hammer. Shirtless Jase. Muscles honed from intense manual labor bulged as sweat glistened and trickled down tanned skin and more tattoos than she'd realized. One of his arms was fully sleeved, the colorful ink wrapping over his shoulder and covering his pectoral. On his other side, his rib cage and torso were etched with intricate designs. A handful of what looked to be letters rose above the waist of his shorts.
Am I drooling? I'm probably drooling. Wow. Just wow. He was major man-candy. Gourmet. The house specialty. He radiated the most sublime sex appeal, the kind that shattered the most ingrained resistance and battered the staunchest inhibitions, and he would definitely satisfy even the most intense sweet tooth. He worked the hammer with masterful expertise, as though he could fix anything, anywhere, anytime, and she had to admit it was total girl porn.
How she longed to close the distance and study every inch of him more closely. Study, yes...
Perhaps touch...
He paused to wipe his face with a rag, and she almost moaned at the increased deliciousness of him. If almost was the new word for loudly.
He looked up and stilled.
"Brook Lynn." His sunglasses were light enough that she was able to watch his gaze travel over her slowly, leisurely.
Her body reacted as though physically caressed, tingling and aching in her most intimate places. Heat flash? Maybe. Probably.
"Good morning," he said, his voice a husky rasp just as sexy as the rest of him.
"Morning." She gulped and wiped her hands on the side of her wrinkled shorts. Don't gawk at his chest. Certainly don't glance lower. "My phone. My keys. Shoes." Making words should not be this difficult. "Do you know where they are?" Better.
"Phone and keys are in the kitchen. Shoes are in your car."
She must have been too focused on the noise--and then the food--to notice the phone and keys. "Well, then. Thank you. For everything," she added, only to hesitate. "But, uh...I'm a little confused about why you didn't just take Jessie Kay and me to our home."
"Two reasons." He set the hammer aside. "I didn't have permission to enter your residence, and Jessie Kay had had too much to drink. She needed to be monitored, so..." He shrugged.
So he'd acted like the gentleman he'd once claimed he wasn't. "Well, thank you. Again," she said and turned to retreat inside. Only then, with her gaze off him and a little distance between them, was she able to breathe.
How did he affect her so strongly? And how could she make it stop?
"You didn't eat," he said, coming in behind her.
Her eyes widened as she rounded on him, her breath hitching when she discovered he was close enough to touch. Close enough to press against, male hardness to female softness, if only she leaned forward the slightest...little...bit. No! Bad Brook Lynn! Bad!
Then his words hit her. "That feast is for me?"
His nod was slow, and his gaze hot on her, as if he'd sensed the direction of her thoughts. "Your sister, too."
Needing no further encouragement, she sat at the table and dug in, soon caught up in a whirlwind of different tastes and textures, moaning with rapturous delight. Yes, she would have added a few other spices to take the flavor to a whole new level, but all in all the meal rocked her socks.
When she finished, she dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. Oh, now I'm ladylike? She looked up to find Jase had removed hi
s sunglasses, but hadn't pulled on a shirt...and he was staring at her as intently as she'd stared at him. It was disconcerting. Especially since his features were blank, and she couldn't read him.
A blush burned her cheeks, and she cleared her throat. "Don't judge me." Or my new food baby.
He arched a brow. "Is that what I was doing?"
Surely. "Well." She cleared her throat again. "Anyway. My compliments to the chef."
"That would be Beck."
Never would she have guessed the pretty boy had a skill that didn't involve a mattress and a panting partner. "Did he train at the Institute of Divine Cuisine and Hellish Addiction?" Jessie Kay had often accused Brook Lynn of sneaking into classes.
"More like the Institute of That Was Fun, But Now It's Time for You to Go."
Nice. "You guys and your one-night stands," she said and rolled her eyes.
"Is that judgment I hear, angel?"
Angel? The endearment proved a thousand times more personal and tantalizing than "honey," shocking her to the core. Of course, he'd meant nothing by it. She figured he probably used the words interchangeably with every female he encountered--even with her sister. But...
I'm still reeling.
"No judgment," she said and stood. "And now it's time for me to jet." Before I do or say something more stupid. "I'm late for work, so...this is goodbye."
His gaze still locked on her, he stepped closer to her, too close for comfort. She should have backed up, if only out of a sense of propriety, but she remained in place. He crossed his arms over his massive chest, those green eyes heating, burning. A sign of...arousal?
The provocative scent of him filled the air between them; it was masculine, sultry and heady, and it fogged her thoughts. It must have. Why else would she have continued to gaze up at him instead of running away?
"Jase?"
"Brook Lynn."
Her heart must have heard music her ears couldn't pick up, because the treacherous organ whipped into a frenzied beat, perhaps even doing cartwheels. Her breaths began to come faster, and shallow. I'm panting. I'm freaking panting. She shifted from one side to the other. He took another step toward her, as if compelled, then another, the last whisper between them vanishing.
He's the predator, and I'm the prey.
Need more space. Now!
Finally, the synapses in her brain connected, and she hopped backward. As one minute ticked into another, relief remained just out of reach. In fact, she'd just made everything worse, her body aching...desperate to be close to him again...determined to hold on to a strength unlike any she'd ever encountered...to be held on to, as if she were precious, as if she were worth anything, worth everything.
The distance had the opposite effect on him. He snapped out of...whatever they'd been doing and gave a clipped shake of his head. He massaged the back of his neck and even took a step backward on his own, asking, "How much money do you make at the jewelry store?"
No way. No way he'd gone there. "What size is your penis?" she snapped.
He didn't miss a beat. "Ex-large."
His balls were that size, too. "Well, my paycheck isn't your business." It was so pathetic, she almost wished it wasn't her business.
She carried her empty plate to the sink, at last spying her phone and keys...right next to a check for two thousand dollars, made out to her. She nearly hyperventilated as she clutched the small piece of paper to her chest. It was more than she'd ever had in her possession.
"I don't...I can't..."
"Don't even think about refusing," he said.
"I...I won't." She couldn't. And she couldn't face him, this man who'd just saved her from certain financial ruin. She'd finally do what her body wanted and throw herself at him. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Her phone vibrated, signaling a text had just come in. She checked the screen to find three missed calls and four texts, all from Edna.
You're late, Brook Lynn. I'm going to assume you meant to call and alert me?
Edna had never learned to abbreviate.
Where are you??????? the second text read.
Third: Are you coming in today or not?
Fourth: THIS IS VERY UNPROFESSIONAL MISS DILLON. PERHAPS YOU AREN'T SERIOUS ABOUT WORKING HERE OR BUYING THE SHOP.
Just peachy. "I've got to go," she said on a sigh. "If you could give Jessie Kay a ride home, I'd appreciate it." Brook Lynn continued to do her best to avoid looking at him, although her reason for doing so had changed. Reminded of her sister...reminded of what this man had done to Jessie Kay, with Jessie Kay, a flood of guilt swept through her.
I shouldn't want to hold him or be held by him. I should want to slap him.
Jase opened his mouth, closed it. He ran a hand through his hair, the thick muscles in his arms knotting, his body radiating a frustration his facial features failed to project.
"I'd...like to offer you a job," he finally gritted out.
That was what bothered him? The thought of offering her a job?
Wait. Back up. He actually wanted her to work for him? Shock forced her to meet his gaze once again. His eyes were darker, deeper...infinite. She shivered, her tone breathless as she asked, "A job?"
He inclined his head, saying more easily, "As my assistant."
"Your assistant?" When had she become an echo?
Another incline of his head.
"I don't understand," she said. "Why do you need an assistant? What do you even do?"
"I live."
"You live." Echoing again. "What does that mean?"
He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Look, I have to fix this place up, make sure it's safe. Habitable. I can't do that if I'm always leaving to buy supplies."
"So you'd want me to buy supplies?"
"Among other things," he muttered.
"What other things?" Love-shack cleanup? Finding all the panties stuffed in his mattress?
"This and that."
"Wow. You're so informative." But she needed another job. Desperately. Her Rhinestone Cowgirl wages weren't enough to survive and thrive. "How much would you pay me? What hours would I work? Monday through Saturday, I wouldn't be able to start until sometime after noon. And why do you want me?"
The words reverberated in her head, the burn returning to her cheeks. "I mean," she added, "what skills do you think I bring to the table?" She'd graduated high school, sure--barely. After her mother died, she'd stopped caring about her grades. And after Uncle Kurt left, she'd been too busy working any odd job she could find, trying to make money and remove some of the burden from Jessie Kay's shoulders. Delivering newspapers and running errands for her neighbors hadn't exactly allowed her to build a sought-after skill set.
Jase thought for a moment, sighed. "You're loyal and dedicated, two of my favorite things. In an employee," he was quick to add.
Her brow furrowed as she considered his words. "How do you know I'm loyal and dedicated? This is only our third conversation."
His expression said do we really need to get into that?
No, she supposed they didn't. The answer was simple. The way she chased after Jessie Kay.
"I'll pay you five hundred dollars a week," he said.
What! Did he expect her to hand over a kidney, too? Did she care? The greatest opportunity of her life had just presented itself on a maple-syrup-soaked breakfast platter. And, really, the job would be easy. A basic fetch and carry, with a little of this and that on the side. Baking? Getting rid of one-night stands?
Done, done and done. With a smile.
But she couldn't rush into anything, had to chat with her sister, weigh the pros and cons. "I need a day to think about it," she said.
He nodded, as if he'd expected such a response. "Call me tomorrow."
"I'll need your--"
"My number is already programmed into your phone."
Uh... "How is it programmed into my phone? I didn't add it."
"No, you didn't. But I did."
How-- Oh! There was
no pass code to safeguard her list of contacts--because she couldn't afford a new phone and had to make due with an old flip.
Her hands curled into fists. "You had no right to do that."
"Delete it, then," he replied, shrugging. "Whatever."
"Delete what?" Jessie Kay strolled into the kitchen, looking as fresh as a daisy. No sign of a hangover, which hardly seemed fair. She patted Jase's behind as she passed him, saying, "Hey, handsome. You sure are looking good this morning."
His lips almost--almost--deepened into a scowl as he backed away from her. Did he ever feel anything? Really feel?
"What?" Jessie Kay asked with an unrepentant grin. "Just appreciating the machinery. Nothing wrong with that."
Brook Lynn battled an intense surge of jealousy at the thought--
Jealousy? No, no. Indigestion. Almost definitely for sure there was a chance indigestion was all it was. "There's food for you on the table," she said, and her sister immediately changed directions. "After you eat, Jase will drive you home." The indigestion grew worse. "Stay there. Please. After my shift at Edna's, we need to talk."
You were supposed to go see your doctor and ask out Brad today.
Well, crap. Forget the doctor and Brad. Forget the fun list. Opening lines of communication with Jessie Kay was far more important. How would her sister react to Jase's job offer? Happy for her? Envious?
"Dude," Jessie Kay said. "Don't we have a shift at the restaurant tonight?"
As if she cared. Heck, as if she really would have shown up.
"News flash. We got fired."
"What?"
"Mr. Calbert fired us. He said he couldn't rely on us anymore."
"Us? Or me?"
"Both of us. I got looped in because I couldn't hack double shifts all the time."
"Well, he did us a favor. I did us a favor." Her sister shrugged. Actually shrugged. "That job sucked donkey balls."
"Maybe, but we needed it." Brook Lynn sighed. "Just...make sure you're home when I get back from Edna's. We need to talk about things. I mean it."
"Sure, sure." One slice of bacon vanished, then another, and her sister moaned with delight.
"I don't think you heard me. You go home, you stay."
Jessie Kay rolled her eyes. "I'm not a total slag. I said I'll be there, so I'll be there."
"Like yesterday at work?"
"Extenuating circumstances."
"Such as?"
"I'd lost most of my stomach lining and probably a lung."
The Closer You Come Page 6