All Jacked Up (Rough Riders #8)(14)

“Maybe you should go back to bed.”


“Fine.” Keely spun on her heel and slammed her bedroom door. She set her favorite UWYO mug on the nightstand and threw herself on the bed.


Dammit. She did not want to share her apartment or anything in it with Jack. Not coffee. Not small talk. She would never survive this fake engagement. Never. She might as well march right back out there and give him back the ostentatious ring along with a really nasty piece of her mind.


“Keely?”


She lifted her head and glared at him. “What?”


“I was kidding about sending you back to bed. Did you want coffee?”


What the heck? Why was Jack being nice to her?


Just go with it.


Keely inhaled a slow, deep breath. “Sure. Just let me throw something on.”


Jack’s gaze systematically inched up her body. When their eyes met, the heat and interest she saw floored her. “No need to get dressed on my account. In fact, all you really need is your special cup, cowgirl.”


“You suggesting a clothing optional coffee klatch?”


His answering smile was decidedly wicked. “Works for me.”


The man was succeeding at keeping her off balance.


She detoured to the bathroom and brushed her teeth, but didn’t attempt to fix her bedhead. In the kitchen area, she sat across from Jack at the small dinette set.


He poured coffee from an insulated silver carafe. “I don’t think I asked you last night if you’d set up a meeting time with Chet and Remy today.”


“We’re meeting with them at two.”


Jack frowned. “I was hoping to get it out of the way first thing this morning.”


“They’re working on a job outside of Aladdin and that was the earliest they could get away.” Keely blew on her coffee before she took a sip. Oh. It was heavenly. Not too bitter, not too bland. She took another sip. Yep. Second one just as good as the first.


“You like it?”


“Mmm-hmm. However, I find it…interesting that of all the items you could’ve brought from your place in Denver, a coffeepot topped the list.”


“Not just a coffeepot, a coffeemaker,” he scoffed. “The premier all-in-one brew system using the French press method. And I only buy free-trade Guatemalan coffee beans which makes the entire coffee experience nearly—”


“Orgasmic?” she supplied.


“A dirty and mean sense of humor first thing in the morning. I may learn to like you yet.” He smiled when she stuck out her tongue at him. “After I call the cable company and get us hooked up to the twenty-first century, I’ll head over to Spearfish and pick up a new TV before the two o’clock meeting.”


“Why? I don’t watch much TV.”


“I do.”


“How often do you plan on being here?”


“As long as it takes.”


“I’m assuming the boob tube is going in your bedroom?”


“Where would I put it amidst all those stuffed animals?” Jack shook his head. “It goes in the living room.”


Don’t argue. He’ll just remind you he owns the apartment and can put anything wherever he damn well pleases.


“Whatever. I’m hitting the shower.” Maybe it was petty, but she stayed under the spray until not a drop of hot water remained. She smeared in her favorite lotion—Sky Blue Lilac Dreams—from head to toe, and ran a comb through her tangled hair, calling it good. Most days she didn’t fuss with her appearance. No exception today because she did not want Jack Donohue thinking she’d duded herself up for him.


Normally she’d walk naked to her bedroom, but with Jack here… Her inner bad girl urged her to saunter buck-ass nekkid right past him. Her inner good girl primly reminded her to cover herself so not an inch of skin was visible.


Her inner good girl won for a change. She wrapped a towel around her torso before she scooted into her bedroom.


Keely had just finished dressing when she heard loud knocking on the door. Early for visitors but she knew who’d popped by unannounced. Without guilt.



AJ stood on the landing, gripping Foster’s hand. “What’s this pile of garbage about you marrying Jack Donohue?” AJ demanded.


“It’s not garbage.” Keely clapped her hands and Foster ran into her arms with a heart-melting little boy giggle. She lifted him and spun him around to more giggles. “Didja miss your Auntie, Fos?”


“Uh-huh.”


She looked him over, completely smitten. With his dark hair and lanky build, Foster would be the spitting image of his father, Cord, if not for the silvery hue of his eyes, which he’d inherited from AJ.


He slapped his palms on her cheeks. “Play Legos?”


“I swear you only love me for my toys.” She kissed his forehead before setting him down. She grabbed the box out of the toy closet and dumped the contents on the rug. “He’s either gonna grow up to be a bricklayer or a house builder.”


“You are avoiding the question. I want all the details, Keely West McKay, and I want them right now.”