by Piper James
“Stop overthinking everything, Jessa,” I chastised myself quietly. “And get out of this Jeep. He’s probably watching you through a window, and you’re acting like a total psychopath. And…you’re talking to yourself.”
I pulled the trucker cap from my head, shaking out my hair as I hooked the hat over my gear shift. Then I climbed from the Jeep and walked up the path to Rafe’s front door. My heart pounded faster with each step, and I took a few deep breaths to calm myself as I climbed the front steps.
I felt like an idiot, being so nervous. I was a grown woman. Having lunch with a friend. People said “it’s a date” all the time. It was a figure of speech.
That note his friend Ivy gave me flashed through my mind as I lifted my fist to knock. I think my best friend has a crush on you.
Pushing the thought away, I rapped my knuckles against the wood. The door swung open immediately, startling me and making me stumble back a step. Rafe’s hand shot forward, his fingers curling around mine to steady me. His hand was warm, his grip firm, and my stomach fluttered when he didn’t let go right away.
“Whoa, there. You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, you just scared me,” I said, my brain frantically trying to decide what to do about the fact that he was still holding my hand.
Should I pull my fingers free? Should I tighten my own grip to let him know I like it?
Because I did. Like it. A lot.
Then, it was over. Rafe released my hand as his gaze wandered over me. My face heated, whether with pleasure or embarrassment, I wasn’t sure.
I’d worn a yellow sundress with thin straps that crisscrossed over my bare back. The hem ended an inch above my knees, and I paired it with strappy white sandals.
“Is this okay?” I asked when his dark gaze returned to mine. “I wasn’t sure where you wanted to go for lunch…”
I let the words trail off, as Rafe shook his head.
“You look—” He paused to clear his throat, then rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Good. You look good. Perfect.”
Was he nervous? He seemed nervous, and for some reason, that made me relax a little.
“Do you want to come in, or should we go?” he asked, motioning toward my car.
“We can go,” I said quickly. Too quickly.
Rafe nodded with a grin, then stepped forward to pull his front door closed behind him. I was standing too close, and his chest brushed against mine, sending sparks spiraling through me. A tiny gasp erupted from me as I quickly took a step back.
Rafe cleared his throat—again—and turned to lock up. He was wearing those jeans that made his butt look amazing, and I forced myself not to stare. When he faced me again, he wore a pleasant smile.
“Shall we?” he asked, motioning for me to precede him.
As I walked toward my Jeep in front of him, I silently ordered myself to be cool. Why was this so nerve-wracking? I was a grown-ass woman, not some virginal teenager going on her first date.
Well, at least the virgin part was true. I’d never really dated before, so if this truly was a date, it was my first one.
Great. Now I’m even more nervous.
Rafe followed me to the driver’s side, as if he’d been determined to open the car door for me. When he realized there were no doors, he looked at me and chuckled. I smiled, then watched him jog around the front end to climb in beside me. Hot and considerate? I think my panties just melted a little.
“Cool ride,” Rafe said as he buckled his seatbelt. “I’ve always kind of wanted one of these.”
“Thanks,” I said, squeezing my thighs together as I cranked the engine.
The man complimented my Jeep. My baby. The thing I love almost as much as my dad and just slightly more than my cat.
Don’t judge. That cat is an asshole.
“So, where are we headed?” I asked after piling my hair on top of my head and pulling my trucker cap down over it.
Rafe had been watching my movements with a soft smile on his lips, and my question seemed to startle him. I pointed toward my hat and grinned.
“The wind will have all this hair looking like a rat’s nest if I don’t wear it.”
“It’s cute,” he said, then shifted in his seat. “I thought we could go to Hero’s, if that’s okay.”
I tilted my head and studied him for a moment. “I didn’t know doctors ate pizza and hot wings.”
“Everything in moderation,” he replied, smirking. “I enjoy fried, greasy food as much as the next guy. I just make sure it’s an occasional treat, not an everyday thing.”
His choice of a casual, fun restaurant helped calm my nerves, and I felt myself begin to relax. If he’d tried to take me to some expensive place with linen napkins and candlelight, I’d probably embarrass myself. I knew nothing about fine dining and fancy table manners.
I pulled away from the curb, turning my face skyward for a moment to soak up some sun as the wind whipped around me. God, I loved this Jeep. I never felt freer than I did cruising around with the top off and the radio up.
A gust of wind blew through the cab as I turned the corner onto the main road, and I realized too late that I’d forgotten to tuck the edges of my skirt under my thighs. The hem lifted in the wind, then flipped up to my waist, revealing every inch of my thighs and a decent amount of panty.
“Shit,” I hissed under my breath, quickly righting the skirt and tucking the edges under my legs.
I hazarded a quick glance at Rafe, but his eyes were on the road as his head bobbed to the song on the radio. I blew out a breath, some of the tension draining from me as I realized he hadn’t seen. Thank God for small favors.
“So, did you ever hang out here as a teenager?” Rafe asked as I pulled into a parking space in front of Hero’s Pizza and More.
“Not really,” I said, shutting off the engine and turning in my seat to look at him. “I mean, I came here with Dad a lot, but I don’t think that’s what you meant.”
Hero’s was a hot spot for kids on Friday and Saturday nights. The food was good, the prices were cheap, and there were pinball games and pool tables. High schoolers had been coming here to hang out with their friends for years. It was kind of a Milestone tradition. Rafe probably spent a lot of time here when he was in high school.
I’d spent my weekends in Dad’s bar, learning how to mix drinks and mop floors with Janice. I’d convinced myself I wasn’t missing out on anything special. Having friends to hang out with on Friday nights was overrated.
Having a boyfriend was overrated. And not worth the risk of being left, abandoned and heartbroken.
Rafe nodded and climbed from the car, walking around to wait for me as I pulled the cap from my head and fluffed my hair. I smiled and hopped to the ground. He held out an arm for me to precede him, then fell into step beside me as we approached the entrance. Laying a hand on my lower back, he leaned forward and pulled open the door before guiding me through.
I shivered at the brush of his fingers on my bare skin between the straps of my dress. Actually shivered. I’d never had a guy have this kind of effect on me, and it was more than a little scary. Exciting, but scary. I couldn’t afford to get attached. In a few weeks, I’d be gone, so this—whatever it was—needed to remain cool and casual. Just like this restaurant.
After sliding into an old leather booth, a big-boobed waitress came over and eye-fucked Rafe as he asked for two glasses of water and a few minutes to peruse the menu. I found myself throwing “cool and casual” out the window as claws I never knew I had threatened to burst free of my fingertips. I held my breath and looked over at him, but he was looking at me as she tried one last time to shove her tits in his face. It was like she didn’t exist. Like she was furniture—there, but easily dismissed.
I smiled, retracting those heretofore nonexistent claws, and Rafe grinned at me like we were sharing a secret. Like that waitress trying to tempt him with her boobalicious beauty was laughable. Like he only had eyes for me.
I swallowed ag
ainst the knot forming in my throat, crossed my legs to ease the pressure that had steadily been building there for the last half hour, and gave him what I hoped was a pretty smile and not something you’d expect to see on a serial killer’s face.
15
Rafe
“I think you have an admirer.”
“Who?” I asked, raising my eyebrows and looking around the half-empty restaurant like I had no idea our waitress had been hitting on me since the moment we walked in.
I knew women tended to find me attractive, and I usually didn’t mind the attention—I was human, after all—but the server’s audacity was appalling. I was here with someone, yet she acted like Jessa didn’t exist as she bent and postured to give me the best view of her cleavage.
“Ha, ha,” Jessa said sarcastically. “There’s no way you missed that impressive display of boobage. I’m afraid I can’t compete with her in that department.”
She looked down at her chest, frowning in feigned disappointment as she shook her head like she was trying to console her own breasts. A laugh burst from me, and her gaze darted up to meet mine. Her eyes were filled with humor mixed with a dash of mischief, and my heart pounded out an irregular beat.
Just like it had earlier, when that heavenly blessed wind whipped through the Jeep’s interior. I’d been surreptitiously checking out her legs at that exact moment, and as if all my wishes had been granted at once, the hem of her yellow skirt had flown up to reveal her thighs. I’d quickly looked away, knowing she’d be embarrassed, but that image would be forever burned in my brain.
It was…perfection.
“…become a doctor?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, snapping out of my daydream. “I guess I zoned out for a minute. What were you saying?”
Her smile faltered for a second, and I silently cursed myself. I couldn’t let her think she was losing my attention. That wasn’t even close to being true.
“I asked what made you decide to become a doctor,” she said, fidgeting.
She uncrossed her legs to cross them in the other direction, and her toe brushed my leg. Electricity shot straight to my groin, and I shifted in my seat much the same way I’d done in the car—to readjust myself and ease some of the pressure building in these tight-ass jeans. Why had I worn these, anyway?
Oh, sweet baby Jesus, does he fill out those jeans. Yep. Because Jessa Maddox thought I looked good in them, and I wanted to impress her. To make her want me as much as I wanted her.
“I’ve always wanted to help people,” I said, finally answering her question. “To heal the wounded and take care of the ill. It’s a calling, I guess.”
“Right,” she said, nodding thoughtfully. “You’ve always been that way, haven’t you?”
I cocked my head and asked, “What do you mean?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said that. It was rude.”
She shifted from side to side, her cheeks and nose reddening in the most adorable way. She was delightful when she blushed, and I realized I wanted to see all of her emotions. Every single one of them. And I still had no idea what had her so embarrassed.
“Tell me what you meant,” I cajoled, “and let me decide if it was rude.”
“I just meant,” she muttered, her face flaming even hotter, “that you took care of Nate and Lola after your parents passed away. You kept your family together during a time that would’ve ripped most apart.”
“You know about that?” I asked, honestly a little shocked.
She nodded. “I was in Nate’s grade, and we had classes together. I remember him seeming…lost for a while. Distraught. But then, he was better. He told one of our teachers that you were his legal guardian, and I kind of put the rest together. You put your own grief and anger aside for the sake of your siblings.”
Our waitress pranced up to our table, but my eyes remained locked on Jessa, incredulous. Had she really been that insightful at what? Fifteen years old?
“Have you decided?” the server asked, tapping her foot impatiently.
“Pepperoni and mushroom okay?” I asked, keeping my eyes firmly on Jessa.
“Perfect,” she answered, still blushing. “And hot wings with ranch.”
“Soda?”
“Sure,” she said nodding, and I waved a hand at the server.
“One large pepperoni and mushroom, a large order of hot wings with ranch dressing, and two sodas.”
“Anything else?” she asked.
“No, thank you,” I said.
I never once took my eyes off Jessa during that whole exchange. Nor had she stopped looking at me. The waitress huffed and spun around, stalking back to the kitchen like we were the rudest customers she’d ever had. Maybe we were, but I didn’t care.
“Were you and Nate friends?” I asked, ashamed that I’d had no idea she even existed before last week.
“No,” she said, chuckling as she finally broke eye contact. “I didn’t have any friends in high school. Nate and I were science partners one year, though.”
“Why didn’t you have any friends?” I asked, taking a sip of my water.
“Didn’t want any,” she said firmly, but there was a flash of sadness in her eyes I couldn’t ignore.
“Why not?”
“Trust issues,” she said, and I could tell she wanted to change the subject, so I didn’t push.
“So, bartending, huh?” I asked awkwardly.
“It’s in my blood,” she said shrugging.
“But you went to school for psychology?”
“Yeah,” she said, laughing. “College was more about the experience for me. I knew I’d never be a nine-to-five girl. I love what I do, and while I won’t be buying any sports cars or mansions any time soon, the money’s not too bad.”
“Do you think you’ll ever take over The Bullpen, permanently?”
The question slipped out before I could stop it, and I instantly regretted it. Not only did it remind her of her ill father, the words sounded hopeful—like I was hoping she’d move back to Milestone for good.
“I don’t know. Maybe one day,” she said. “But right now, I’m enjoying my independence. Running a business is a lot of responsibility and work.”
Our waitress showed up to deliver our food, and I sent a silent thanks to the gods of food service. If I was going to keep this cool and casual, I needed to stop asking questions like that. I didn’t want to scare her off by making her believe I was thinking about the future.
I wasn’t. I was only thinking about the here and now. And how badly I wanted to get my hands on her skin.
Jessa plucked a slice of pizza from the pie and placed it on her plate. Then she took three hot wings and one of the small bowls of ranch dressing. As I filled my own plate, I watched her pick up a wing drumette, dip it in the ranch, and take a huge bite. She groaned with pleasure, and the sound hit me right in the gut, making my dick twitch in response.
Low and throaty, that groan was everything. I would commit a felony to be that chicken wing right now.
Her eyes darted up and caught me watching her, but the blush I expected never came. She just swallowed, smirked, and said, “I love hot wings.”
I couldn’t stop the bark of laughter that burst from me if I tried. Jessa smiled in response, picked up her pizza, and took a bite. Her eyes fell closed as the flavors hit her tongue, and I felt myself grow even harder. This was getting out of control.
I dropped my eyes to my own plate and dug into my food. I needed a distraction, and Hero’s pizza was a perfect one.
“Mm,” I said after swallowing my first bite. “Best pizza in town, hands down.”
She laughed. “Well, considering our only other option is that place that makes ready-made pizzas and keeps them warm until people order them, I’d have to agree.”
We ate in companionable silence for several minutes, then Jessa set her second slice of pizza down and looked at me with a serious expression.
“I have a confession to make,�
� she said, looking a little nervous.
“Okay,” I replied, drawing the word out like a question as I dropped the wing I’d been gnawing to my own plate.
“When you texted me this morning, I almost said no.”
I tilted my head. “Why? You didn’t want to come?”
“No, it’s not that. I mean, I like you.” She flinched, then backtracked. “I meant as a person. And a doctor.”
She paused again, squeezing her eyes closed as if she were in pain. I waited her out, opting to let her order her thoughts rather than jumping in with my own conclusions. I really wanted to know where this was going.
“I’m screwing this up,” she mumbled, then took a deep breath and locked her gaze on mine. “I’m not looking for any kind of relationship.”
That stung a little more than I wanted to admit, even to myself, but I kept my face blank. “I’m not either.”
She nodded, accepting my statement as fact. “I plan to go back to Atlanta once Dad recovers.”
“I know,” I said.
She sucked her bottom lip in and bit it, and I was sure there’d never been anything as sexy as that in all of history. I lost track of our conversation as thoughts of my teeth biting that lip pushed everything else out of my brain.
Blood rushed to my crotch, making my erection nearly unbearable. It felt like I was a teenager again, losing control of my reactions in the throes of puberty. Jessa Maddox did that to me.
And I didn’t hate it.
“Good,” she said, and it took me a second to remember what we were talking about. “I like hanging out with you, but I don’t want there to be any expectations or hurt feelings.”
“I don’t expect anything from you,” I said in a low, serious voice. “I like hanging out with you, too.”
But my cool exterior was a front. My mind was on high alert, screaming at me to backtrack. To tell her how attractive I found her and how much I wanted to put my hands on her, because this felt like I was being firmly friend-zoned.