***
“Where did you meet that yummy thing?” Claire’s fellow paralegal, Rachel, practically licked her lips as she watched JT bound down the stairs to the bar. She and file clerk, Julia, had been hanging out with them on the pub’s upper level. When Claire noticed that her friends couldn’t stop smiling at him, touching his strong arms, and standing much too close, she’d sent him off for more drinks. Her bracelet jingled as she swept her hair back, revealing her flashy drop earrings. Dressing for attention usually gave her a shot of courage, but her bravado faltered in the presence of her effortlessly glamorous friends.
Claire sipped her beer as her mind raced, trying to come up with a believable scenario that would satisfy Rachel’s curiosity and keep their secret safe. “We met….” At the courthouse? No, no, no. Alex ‘introduced’ them? No, that would get back to him. “Through a mutual friend,” she said. That would have to do. Vague but true in a convoluted jury-duty-is-our-friend sort of way.
“I hope you gave your friend a reward.” Julia followed Rachel’s ravenous gaze. “That man is a prime piece of meat.”
“He’s fun.” Claire swallowed more beer, washing away the graphic details poised on the tip of her tongue.
“Such a sweetheart,” Rachel gushed.
Julia giggled. “And so funny.”
Claire rolled her eyes and handed her empty bottle to a passing waitress. They could’ve ordered more beer from any one of the pub staff, but she’d told JT he needed to go to the bar to get a bottle of champagne for the midnight toast. He’d started to argue, but when Claire stepped between him and a pawing Rachel, he got the message and disappeared without protest.
Would she always have to compete for a man? She tried to recall when she’d ever won a contest—of any kind—but came up short. Always second best. The bridesmaid at the end of the row no one ever noticed. Miss Congeniality.
Cheese and rice! She could win this competition if she was the only woman in it. A diabolical plot took shape in her head. One of her rivals could easily trip and fall down this stairs in this crowded room. The other could get pushed over the loft’s railing. It was an accident, Your Honor. Not guilty.
“Look at her smile.” Julia elbowed Rachel. “She’s so smitten.”
“He is too. Did you see how he kept touching her?” Rachel sighed. “Not at all like that creep who ditched you last year.”
“Oh yeah.” Julia nodded. “Dr. I’m-too-good-for-your-office-party. What an asshole. He didn’t even bother to drive you home.”
Please stop talking. Claire squeezed her eyes closed, hoping to shut out the awful scene while her friends rehashed it….
“It’s almost midnight. Do you want some champagne?” Claire grabbed two glasses from the passing waitress and offered one to Michael.
Her boyfriend scowled and brushed her off. “You know I can’t drink tonight. I’m on call.”
“Sorry, I forgot.” Claire searched for a place to abandon the extra drink. Julia and Rachel had their hands full, so she stood there looking like a lush with a cheap plastic flute in each hand.
He recoiled as a giggling Rachel bumped against him. “I didn’t even want to come, but I did it for you.”
As if he needed to say it out loud. His petulant scowl made it abundantly clear he’d rather be anywhere than with her at DA’s office party. “Um… thank you?”
The all-important surgeon plucked a stray hair from his sleeve, a smug smile screwing up his face. “You’re welcome.”
The giddy crowd surrounded them, pressing closer to the TV to watch the ball drop in Times Square. A cell phone rang, its harsh tone jarring the people around them. Michael shoved his hand in his pocket and answered it. He frowned at Claire and jammed a finger in his ear while he listened. “On my way.”
“Not tonight.” She pouted, hoping he’d soothe her lips with an understanding kiss.
“This is my career, Claire. When the hospital needs me, I have to go.” Michael zipped up his jacket.
The countdown to the New Year rose up from the crowd. “I need you.”
“I can’t serve you, too.”
Sweat collected on the back of her neck as her coworkers, friends, and one of the senior partners lost count and watched her plead with the man. “I don’t want to be served. I just need some attention once in a while.”
He snorted. “I let you drag me to this dive. Isn’t that enough?”
“Happy New Year!” Cheers rose and champagne flowed.
But Claire spent the first moments of her new year chasing what she couldn’t have. “Can I get a New Year’s kiss before you go?”
“I don’t have time for this. I’m already late.” He pushed through the gawking onlookers and walked out the door.
Claire’s hands trembled, splashing alcohol onto her festive new blouse. She tried to wipe it up, but with both hands occupied, she had to let it stain. “Happy New Year.” She raised a glass and downed it, followed quickly by the second. Her head swam and she resolved to find a man who couldn’t get enough of her….
“You are a lucky girl, Claire.”
“Huh?” She blinked and focused on Julia’s smile. “How’s that?”
“JT didn’t want to leave you. You had to pry him off.”
A twinge of guilt tingled her skin, and her sense memory recalled JT’s fingers caressing the back of her neck, his hand circling on the small of her back. He’d never left her side until she forced him to, and even then gave her hand a lingering caress as they parted. No, she hadn’t won him. The competition had never taken place.
“Yes, I am.” Resolution kept. She smiled and twisted Julia’s wrist to look at her watch. Ten minutes to midnight. “I need to go find him and that champagne.”
“Have fun ringing in the New Year.” Julia winked.
Claire laughed and scurried down the stairs, grabbing at the railing as her heel caught and nearly sent her headfirst to the floor. Wow, I could’ve pulled that off. She stopped and caught her breath, searching the crowded bar for JT.
The giddiness of her effortless victory faded as she identified one face after another. Not him, not him. Had he gotten bored and gone home?
Shouts of laughter erupted from the pool tables, and Claire turned to see JT and Kurt, of all people, balancing on cue sticks as they doubled over. JT patted the computer guy on the back as he circled the table for another shot.
When she’d set out to find him, a small, insecure part of her worried he might be occupied with another woman, but finding him with Kurt cast that doubt aside.
An easy smile lit JT’s face, and Kurt grinned back instead of fumbling like usual. The IT wizard was always a bit of a bumbler in social situations, especially with people he barely knew. When she’d introduced him to Alex, Kurt had shaken the wrong hand and tripped over his own feet, sending him tumbling into the surprised prosecutor. Kurt still blushed every time Alex teased him about throwing himself into his arms.
She crept across the room, standing close enough to watch and listen without being seen by the two men.
“Not bad, not bad.” Kurt grinned as JT’s shot stopped short of the pocket. “But let me show you how it’s done.”
JT scoffed. “I’d like to see you try.”
The geek leaned over the table with a cue stick in his hand. “All you have to do is determine the amount of force needed to cover the distance across the table, and then calculate the angle of the shot.” He knocked the cue ball into the bank and dropped the five ball into the corner pocket.
JT laughed and shook his head. “Now let me show you what a little luck can do for ya.” He stepped up to the table.
“Whoa.” Kurt backhanded his chest. “It’s still my turn.”
“Shit. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”
“Luck, my ass. More like misdirection.” He lined up his next shot.
Who is this guy? Kurt rarely showed this level of confidence. He mouthed off to her computer, but the computer couldn’t fight back. His bravado
with JT appealed to her in a way that– Oh my God, seriously? She shook off the immediate attraction, but the idea simmered in the back of her mind.
The superstitious former juror groaned out loud as Kurt sank the eight ball in a corner pocket. “Not again.”
“And that’s kicking your ass.” The pool champ extended his right hand.
JT shook it and clapped him on the shoulder. “Well played. As soon as a waitress comes by, I’ll pay your tab. You earned it.”
The genuine affection in his voice churned up a familiar dread in Claire’s stomach. She never could compete with a woman for a man’s attention, and she certainly had no earthly idea how to compete with a man. Maybe she could bend over the pool table and give JT a flash of flesh. On the other hand, Kurt might like to see that, too.
But she’d accomplish nothing hiding in the crowd, so she approached the two men and made her presence known. “Looks like you boys are having fun.” She slid her butt on the table’s edge and straightened her shoulders.
JT immediately focused on her straining buttons. “Missed you, Rebel.” He winked and circled the table.
Kurt gave him a sideways glance, then smiled at Claire. “Happy New Year.”
“Hi Kurt. I didn’t see you come in.” She hadn’t meant to dismiss him, but when his eyes dimmed like a snuffed out candle, her heart hurt a little.
“I didn’t want to, but Frank told me it might be a good idea to mingle with the partners.”
She leaned back against JT as he slid behind her. “I hate office politics.”
“Me too.” Kurt stepped back as JT wrapped his arm around her waist.
She wanted to reach out and pull him in. Why? Her man had obviously claimed her, so why did she want Kurt, too? She brushed off the conflicting thoughts and pursued meaningless small talk. “I’m just glad my boss isn’t here.”
“Mmm….” JT’s breath tickled her neck. “So am I.” He nipped her ear, and her nipples stiffened, making her glad she’d worn a padded bra.
Kurt fiddled with the cue stick. “How’d he get out of this?”
“He took his girlfriend to Vegas for the weekend.”
A sly smile touched JT’s face. “And her boyfriend?”
“Shhh.” Claire pressed her finger to his lips. “It’s supposed to be a secret.”
Kurt snorted. “Not much of one.”
“Really?” They both stared at him.
“I’ve heard rumors. Are they true?”
“He’d deny everything.” Claire zipped her lips. “You didn’t hear it from me.”
Kurt nodded and rolled the cue ball across the empty table, catching it as it bounced off the opposite side. “That’s gotta be one wild….”
“Clusterfuck.” JT finished his sentence.
“Could be fun though, once you worked out all the practical details.” Kurt flicked the ball into a pocket. A waitress walked by and gave them complimentary glasses of champagne.
Interesting. Claire searched his eyes, but he blushed and turned away from her intense gaze. “Do all men want a threesome?”
“Yes.” JT piped up.
The pink flush on Kurt’s face turned bright red. “It’s a popular fantasy.”
She grabbed his arm and made him face her. “Is it yours?”
“Uh….” He shoved his glasses up his nose.
JT laughed. Somehow through all the party noise, Claire heard a cell phone ring, triggering bad memories. Without thinking, she shoved her hand into JT’s jacket pocket and fumbled around.
He leaned close and pressed his lips to her ear. “Looking for something? Try groping down a little further.”
But she found the device that had ruined last New Year’s Eve, and turned it to vibrate. “No interruptions.”
He smiled. “Works for me.”
“Ten, nine, eight….” The crowd counted down in unison, and any answer he might’ve given got drowned out.
The guys joined in. “Five, four, three….”
Claire raised her glass. “Two, one.”
“Happy New Year!” They clicked the cheap plastic glasses. Multi-colored metallic confetti littered the air, and paper horns heralded the New Year’s arrival.
JT downed his champagne then snatched the drink from Claire’s hand. He bent her back over the pool table and kissed her, plunging his tongue into her mouth.
Cheers surrounded them. She should’ve protested the inappropriate public kiss, but all the alcohol she’d consumed went straight to her head, and she dug her heel into his thigh.
He pulled her up and winked. “This is gonna be a good year.”
“Yeah,” she breathed, and let him kiss her again.
Poor Kurt stood twiddling his thumbs and gazing at the ceiling, the walls, the front door—anywhere but at the entwined couple.
Claire untangled herself from JT’s grasp and hooked her arm around the awkward nerd’s neck, bending him down and planting a soft kiss on his flaming cheek. “Happy New Year, Kurt.”
He tried to speak, but the words caught. He cleared his throat and rasped, “You too.”
JT offered his hand. “I’m not gonna kiss you.”
Kurt laughed and shook it. “Good to know.” He zipped up his jacket and glanced toward the door. “I should get going.”
“Already?” JT picked up Claire’s champagne and polished it off. “There’s still more party left.”
“I’ve had enough. It was good seeing you, JT.”
“Yeah, we should do it again.”
Claire frowned as the contest shifted in Kurt’s favor.
A smile lit the geek’s eyes—overconfident, but well-justified. “I’m up for pool anytime.”
JT shuddered. “Hell no. I have tickets for the Nuggets game Wednesday night. I’ll meet you at the Pepsi Center at six.”
“I don’t know anything about basketball.” An uncertain look crossed his face. “The Nuggets are a basketball team, right?”
“Yeah.” JT laughed. “Well then, let me educate you.”
“Sounds good.” Kurt grinned and slapped his shoulder. “See you Wednesday. Good night, Claire.”
She pasted a smile on her face. “Good night,” she called after him as he pushed through the crowd. Cheese and crackers. What just happened? That over-the-top midnight kiss should’ve branded JT as hers, but Kurt had a date with him?
Her muscles tensed as she crossed her arms and turned to JT. “So… Wednesday, huh?”
“Wanna go?”
“No, I’m not into basketball.”
“Okay.”
What the—? He hadn’t backed off when Kurt said no. She grabbed a stray cue stick and considered shoving it up the nearest tight ass. “Rack ‘em up.”
But JT wrenched the cue away from her and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her back against his body and breathing hot in her ear. “I’ve got a stick you can play with.”
Her spine tingled, but she couldn’t stop the sassy retort on her tongue. “Got balls, too?”
He ground his sudden erection against her butt. “Let’s get out of here.” He pulled her toward the door.
But Claire resisted. Does he think a few dirty words and nice wood will make it all better? “I thought you wanted to stay for more party.”
He circled back and swept her into his arms. Something wicked flashed in his eyes as he dragged his tongue from the tip of her chin down to the top of her heaving breasts. Their eyes mated as he touched his nose to hers. “Sweet thing, let me show you how I ring in the new year.”
Fucking hell. It is all better.
Chapter 11
They’d come to the party separately, but if JT’s luck favored the bedroom more than the pool table, they’d come together soon enough. He typed his address into her GPS. “I’ll follow you.”
Claire started her car. “Still don’t trust me?”
“I don’t like to be left behind.” An old emotion caught in his throat, turning his words hoarse.
She stroked his clenched jaw.
“I’ll follow you.” Her lips burned on his, as they lingered in the frigid night air.
He tore away from their kiss, shivering as he ran to his truck. He hated this part of a relationship… the part where everything felt wonderful before Goddamn fucking fate threw a monkey wrench into the whole thing.
Enjoy it while it lasts.
The engine clunked dead, and he turned the key again, hoping only the cold was working against him and not the universe, too. The truck started. He gave it a little gas to keep it going. Claire pulled in front of him as he shifted into gear. He motioned for her to proceed, and they drove the mostly deserted streets to his home.
Claire parked in the driveway and got out of her car, gazing up at the two-story stucco house. “Nice place,” she said when he joined her in the driveway.
“Thanks.” JT cradled her arm as they climbed the front steps. “I built it myself. Took a few years, but I’m proud of the result.”
“You should be. It’s beautiful.” She shrugged off her coat and admired the tile floors, carved oak staircase, and vaulted ceilings. “All this space… you built it just for you?”
He hung their coats in a half-empty closet that had turned out much bigger than he’d planned. He’d been celebrating at the time, toasting his achievement. “When I took over the Hodge, I went a little crazy buying or building all the things I ever wanted.” Could he tell her how empty this house felt, how the rooms echoed with his sole footsteps? “I don’t have anyone else to share my success with, so I splurged on me.” He pointed her toward the kitchen.
She strolled down the hall, gazing at the few photos he’d hung. “No family?”
He stopped and pointed to a picture of a woman and handsome man standing with two smiling children. “My sister and her kids come here for Christmas. I play Santa, but they’re getting too old for that now.”
“My family doesn’t get together for holidays anymore,” Claire said. “I’d love to see my nieces and nephews, but my sisters and I aren’t close. We have nothing in common except parents who ignore us.”
“Kaylee is the one woman in my life who’s never given up on me. And fortunately Zoe doesn’t believe her uncle is the worthless piece of shit her grandmother says he is.” If only I believed it too.
Home Is Where the Heat Is Page 12