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

“Remember who owns the building? Now it’s our apartment,” he corrected with an edge to his voice.


“Not only will I be working here, I’ll be living here.”


“What? No! Oh, hell no. You can’t just move in with me.”


Cue his wolfish grin. “Oh, cowgirl, I most certainly can.”


Holy shit. He could. She was so monumentally screwed.


“Have the building plans ready for me to look at day after tomorrow.”


“Don’t boss me around, Jack.”


“Get used to it, Keely.”


Did he honestly expect her to play the part of docile little wifey-to-be when they weren’t in the public eye?


Fuck that.


Before Keely voiced a protest, Jack tucked her hair behind her ear, letting his sure, yet teasing touch linger on the curve of her cheek. God. He had the most amazing hands.


“Why don’t you set up dinner with your parents? So we can tell them our good news. Hopefully that’ll pave the way to convincing your family we’re head over heels in love.”


She wrinkled her nose. Right. If Cam leveled his nasty cop stare at her, she’d spill her guts. Carter would cajole and tease her into admitting it was a sham. Colt could pin her down and tickle the truth out of her. Colby would tie her to the corral until she confessed the hard facts. Cord would just send his wife AJ to nag her. Her best friend would never believe Keely was knocking loafers with Jack, let alone letting those loafers reside under her bed permanently.


This so wasn’t going to work.


Jack retreated and pointed at her. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Keely. You’d better get used to gazing at me with adoration, not disgust.”


“Yeah? Then you’d better bring me a big goddamn engagement ring as an incentive to pretend I love you.”


Late the following afternoon, Jack yelled, “Honey, I’m home.”


Keely gaped at him as he scaled the stairs. “Jesus, Jack, why don’t you scream that a little louder so AJ, India and Domini all come barreling up here?”


An oversized duffel and an enormous suit bag hit the landing at the top of the stairs. “But their feminine squealing about your good luck landing me as your mate might be a tad embarrassing for you, buttercup.”


“You are about four seconds from me knocking you off this landing, bucko.”


“No big, wet, sloppy kiss for your traveling man? Fine.” Jack adjusted the backpack straps and bent down to retrieve his other bags.


She elbowed him in the gut as soon as his hands were full. “There’s your kiss—Irish style, honey.”


“Dammit, Keely. That was uncalled for.”


“Probably. But it was fun.”


“Payback’s a bitch. Remember that.”


She had a feeling it was going to be a long night.


They decided to stick to basics about the engagement. Keely had contacted Jack for his expertise on her concerns about buying the building. They met in Denver and Cheyenne, talked, one thing led to another…blah blah blah. Instant love.


Too bad she’d had to suck down two slugs of whiskey before her “love” drove them out to her folks’ house.


Jack parked by the barn and faced her. “Ready?”


“No. We’re forgetting something.” She pinned him with a dubious look. “Crap. I don’t have an engagement ring. They won’t believe you can’t live without me if you—”


“I bought a damn ring, Keely.” He opened the glove compartment and pulled out a blue velvet jewelry box. “We should’ve done this earlier, so I hope it fits. May I have your hand?”


Keely closed her eyes as the cool metal slid up to her knuckle. This was not how she imagined the magic moment when the man of her dreams slipped a ring on her finger.


“You afraid to look?” he prompted.


“Uh-huh.”


Jack chuckled. “Come on, cowgirl, give me some credit. I didn’t dig it out of a Cracker Jack box.”



Her hand felt heavy. No wonder. When she peeked at the square cut diamond set in a platinum band, she realized the stone was the size of her fingernail. Keely met Jack’s gaze. “Is this for real?”


“What? The stone? Yes, it’s real.”


“Guess you took me seriously about the gigantic ring, huh?”


“I figured ten plus carats would get your attention.”


“And the attention of anyone within a mile.” Keely waggled her fingers, admiring the diamond’s flash of brilliance. “This is spectacular. I don’t know what to say.”


“That’s gotta be a first,” he said dryly. “Thank you, Jack, would be a start.”


Keely angled across the console and placed her hand on his smoothly shaven cheek. “Thank you, Jack.”


His eyes were soft, a luminous green, nearly hypnotic. The moment was so intimate she almost believed it was real.


Her dad knocked on the window and barked, “You comin’ in or what?” and brought a screaming halt to her momentary lapse in judgment.