Busted (Promise Harbor Wedding)(20)



“That wasn’t what it sounded like in the shed. I didn’t know you could hit those kinds of high notes, actually.”

He sighed, but continued to explore the curve of her neck, right down to where it met her shoulder. “Are you trying to kill the mood here?”

Her eyes drifted shut. “Just trying not to make any more mistakes tonight.”

“So you admit that tasing me was a mistake?”

“Maybe I’m talking about our kiss.”

“Which one?” When she remained silent, he smiled into her skin, the scent of her filling his head.

“Jackson,” she murmured, turning her face toward his. Her mouth skimmed the edge of his jaw, moving way too slow.

He sank his hand into the hair at her nape, guiding her so much closer. Close enough to feel her breath whisper across his lips. Close enough to—

Bang!

Jackson spun around, one arm blocking Hayley in as he scanned the area.

Amused, she glanced at the arm he was using to shield her, then motioned toward the hallway. “Just a door. It slams all the time.”

Some of the tension left his body. “Is there a window open or something?”

“Upstairs, but it does that anyway.” At his raised eyebrow, she shrugged. “Didn’t know the place was haunted, huh?”

“Maybe I should check it out anyway.”

“You?” She crossed her arms, waiting.

Right. She was the cop.

Hayley rolled her eyes. “How about we check it out?”

It wasn’t the first time she had given him the impression she was just humoring him, but not until they were down the hall and at the front door did he realize she was trying to get rid of him.

“It’s late.” She gripped the door handle.

“You know, I think I could use a ride.”

“I’ll call you a taxi.”

“Aren’t you a little bit worried I might pass out in a ditch on the way?”

She nudged him across the threshold. “You can call me when you get home so I know not to send out search and rescue.”

“I don’t have your number,” he pointed out.

“Then I’ll call you. Good night.” She closed the door on him.

He stared at the wood, trying to puzzle out how he’d gone from being half an inch from her mouth to nearly eating the peeling paint off the front door.

“Jackson?”

“Yeah?”

“Go home unless you want me to tase you again.”





Chapter Six


Hayley hadn’t slept much. Between tossing and turning, wondering how Gavin was doing and staring at the ceiling with a stupid grin on her face, she’d opened her eyes feeling like she hadn’t slept in weeks.

Trudging into the shower had been a chore she’d passed on in favor of soaking in the claw-foot tub. Adding the bubbles was an indulgence strictly to satisfy the part of her content to stay curled up in bed all day, and that wasn’t happening.

She sighed as the hot water soothed aches from the fall that were more noticeable this morning. The next time Copernicus decided to run up a tree, she was calling the fire department. If she was smart she’d call the fire department the next time she crossed paths with Jackson. Maybe then she could avoid another disaster in the making.

She’d waited until he disappeared down the lane and onto the main road before getting into her truck and following to make sure he got back to his parents’ place in one piece. She had enough weighing on her without something serious happening to the harbor’s golden boy.

The same golden boy who kissed even better than he played hockey.

Hayley could just imagine what he’d think if she told him that. The man’s ego was big enough without him knowing she’d lain awake half the night thinking of that sinful mouth of his.

She let out a breath, determined to put him and that kiss out of her head. Jackson was leaving. Maybe he’d stick around another day or two for Josh, if that long. He had left town the second he knew he had a shot of getting in to the NHL and had hardly looked back as far as she knew, returning only a few times since high school graduation.

Nothing good could come from giving in to a silly crush on a guy itching to leave Promise Harbor behind all over again.

Creak.

Her eyes flew open, but she didn’t bother to move an inch. “Another felony to add to the list, I see.”

Lounging against the doorframe, Jackson propped one arm overhead, a key in his hand. “Coach still hides his spare key under the mat. Didn’t think people still did that.”

“So you decided to let yourself in?”

“Well, I knocked first.” He crossed to the radio on the ledge by the window, and turned the volume down. “Guess you didn’t hear me. Funny how that works.” His gaze roamed the bubbles barely hiding her from view.

She resisted the urge to sink lower in the tub. Barely.

“Plus,” he continued, “I had hoped to catch you in the shower. This is actually much better.” He grinned.

“Out.”

Grabbing a chair, he turned it around backward and straddled it. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Do the words time and place mean anything to you?”

His only response was a lazy once-over, his attention lingering just a beat longer at where her breasts were buried in bubbles.

“You need to go.” It was a pointless demand, and she knew it. Everything about the plain white T-shirt, faded jeans—the knees almost worn out—and the arms crossed over the top of the chair said, When I’m good and ready.

“We need to stay together.”

“No.”

“It’s a mutually beneficial situation.”

Hayley snorted.

“Just while I’m still in Promise Harbor.”

“Absolutely not.” When his gaze fell to her chest, she realized she’d risen a few inches above the bubbles. She slid back down, sloshing water over the edge of the tub. “No,” she repeated, more firmly this time. God, she had enough on her plate without throwing a fake boyfriend into the mix.

“Would you reconsider if I told you two women harassed me on the way over this morning?”

“That’s just awful,” she said in mock sympathy. She looked over the side of the tub in search of a towel.

“C’mon, Hayls. You owe me after last night.”

“Shit. I really did fry a few of your brain cells, didn’t I?”

“Are you going to make me beg?”

Her cell phone rang, saving her from answering Jackson. Unfortunately for her, there was a hockey-pro-turned-pain-in-the-ass in the way.

He nodded to the phone. “Want me to hand that to you?”

“Please.”

“No problem.” He grabbed the phone and offered it, withdrawing it the second she reached for it. “Have lunch with me.”

“Can’t.” Even though it was Sunday, she had a lot to do.

“Work.” Jackson read the screen on her phone.

She shrugged. “I’ll call them back.”

The phone continued to ring in his hand. “Could be important. Didn’t you say something about already being on your captain’s shit list?”

She narrowed her eyes.

“Just lunch. That’s it.” He waved the phone at her.

Sticking to the promise she’d made herself not to get roped into anything she didn’t have time for, Hayley put an end to Jackson’s negotiations.

She stood up, water sliding down her body and taking with it the protective camouflage of bubbles. She had both the towel and her phone in her hand by the time Jackson managed to get his jaw off the floor.

Cell phone clutched between her teeth, she left the bathroom, wrapping the towel around herself as she went. With her back to him, she didn’t need to worry about him noticing the flush of red heating her face.

“Detective Stone,” she answered, tucking the phone to her ear. She kept her bedroom door ajar, listening as Jackson’s steps thunked down the stairs. Instead of stopping at the front door, though, he walked deeper into the house.

Of course it wouldn’t have been that easy to send him on his way.

“We’ve got a missing bridesmaid, Hayley.” Mabel Standish, dispatcher, sounded almost giddy at the news.

“What bridesmaid?”

“Sophie Brewster’s girl, Greta. Seems she vanished like the bride. Sophie asked specifically for you.”

Hayley thought of the work that needed to be done around the house, and inwardly groaned. So much for a day off.

“Tell her I’ll be by to talk to her as soon as I can get there.”

“No problem.”

Hanging up, Hayley tossed her phone on the bed and got dressed. Her hair was still damp when she ran her comb through it and tugged it back into a ponytail. Once she’d finished getting ready, she jogged down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to put on her shoes.

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