Busted (Promise Harbor Wedding)(35)

“I think mine were afraid that if they changed anything I wouldn’t want to come home to visit.” He glanced around the room. “That and they’re always on the road since Dad retired.” He leaned forward. “Here.”

She handed off the pack, eager to be rid of it, only to wince when he held it to her bump. “It’ll only hurt for the first minute or so.”

He might as well have said ten seconds, and even that was too much. She tried to squirm away from the growing discomfort without being obvious, but he caught on, gripping her waist to keep her in place.

As far as distractions for pain went, it wasn’t so bad. The fresh, clean smell of his soap filled her senses, and she found herself leaning in to him. Her eyes drifted shut, his proximity both relaxing and exciting her. His breath warmed her neck, and she shivered, delightful goose bumps racing across her skin.

“Do you want me to grab you a sweater?”

She shook her head, cringing as she pushed too hard against the ice pack. Even that pain didn’t affect how good it felt sitting so close to Jackson, their knees touching, his hand at her waist, fingers gently gripping her every few seconds.

Her eyes opened, and from beneath lowered lashes she mentally traced the angles and curves of his face, the bruises and swollen corner of his mouth doing absolutely nothing to detract from his handsomeness.

Intense blue eyes slid to hers, and she quickly ducked her head, faking a yawn.

“No sleeping. You could have a concussion.”

“That’s not what you told Gramps. Besides, we both know I would be fine if I ended up falling asleep.”

“We’re better off not taking the chance.”

Hayley frowned. Why did it sound like he was up to something? She followed his gaze to where her hard nipples pressed against the borrowed T-shirt.

“And what did you have in mind to pass the time?”

He pursed his lips thoughtfully, then leaned even closer. Unchecked heat burned in his eyes.

“Not a chance.” The words were far softer than she intended, like part of her knew full well that any kind of sex with Jackson, casual or otherwise, just might be worth it.

Jackson reached past her, his jaw just brushing her cheek, and grabbed something off the shelf behind her. He dropped a deck of cards into her lap and smiled innocently. “What did you think I had in mind?”

They both knew exactly what he’d wanted her to think a moment ago. God, he enjoyed teasing her. Smiling, Hayley didn’t offer anything he could use to put her on the spot.

He wasn’t letting it go, though. His eyes widened, feigned shock written on his face. Although they were already touching, he brought his mouth as close as he could get without brushing his lips across hers. Her pulse jumped.

“You didn’t think I would try and take advantage of you, did you?”

A wise woman wouldn’t give him any more ammunition, so she waited for him to continue, doing her best to resist the urge to run her tongue over his bottom lip.

“I think last night proved I don’t need to take advantage of you.”

The temperature in the room shot up, and suddenly the ice wasn’t enough to stop the full-body flush that raced over her, warming every inch of her skin.

“I’m going to grab us a drink.” Jackson was on his feet and out the door before the rest of her got the message that she was alone.

She flopped all the way back in the beanbag chair and pressed the discarded ice pack against her chest. The back of her neck came next as she tried to cool herself off.

He was back with two cans of soda, one of which he offered to her. The cool liquid felt incredible. She watched him shuffle the deck and deal out five cards to each of them.

“A little five-card stud?”

“Sure.” She wasn’t a bad poker player, but she wasn’t particularly good either. She’d lost a small chunk of change to some of the guys at the station before she’d learned her lesson.

By the end of their first hand, she wound up with a pair of sevens, which he beat with a pair of kings.

A wicked grin curved his lips. “Take something off, sweetheart.”

No way. “What happened to not taking advantage of me?”

“I said that I didn’t have to. Not that I wouldn’t.”

Hayley paused, taking the deck to shuffle. “How many women have actually fallen for that line?” She dealt the next hand, going through the motions without thinking about it.

Jackson laughed. “You’d be surprised.”

She snorted. “I’d be surprised if their combined IQ was over a hundred.”

“Cheap shot.”

“No, that would be what you did to Rocky McLeod in the second round of playoffs three years ago.”

Jackson leaned forward. “Come on. He plowed my center into the net. The poor kid needed twenty-six stitches after that. Rocky had it coming.”

Hayley only let her gaze slip away from his for a second. “And when you took down Shane Calvert for tripping you?”

“He threw the first punch.”

“Unlike the throw down between you and Freddie Hall during the opening game of the season four years ago.”

Jackson frowned. “What did you do, keep a scrapbook?”

She shrugged, making a last-minute decision about her cards. “Stone’s was full every game night you played, so Matt often needed the extra hand.”

“How many games did you miss?”

“Only a couple.” She smiled innocently.

He searched her face, finally realizing that the more riled up he got, the more he tipped his cards just enough she could see them. “You cheater.”

“Sorry, not feeling myself. Must be the flowerpot I took to the head.”

He tossed the cards aside. “And you even managed to say that with a straight face. You’re clearly feeling better.”

She started to laugh, but the sound quickly died away as he reached out to touch her cheek.

“How’s your head?”

“Pain meds are a beautiful thing.” Mostly. She had a mild headache, but it was manageable.

“Still dizzy?”

“No.” Not unless she counted the spinning in her head when he was only inches away.

“Good.” Jackson slid two fingers beneath her chin, guiding her forward to meet his mouth.





Chapter Ten


Hayley whimpered, the sound hungry and needy, and stifled by a kiss soft enough to melt her into the chair.

It was like they were back in high school and he’d just taken her by complete surprise all over again.

Getting caught with the mascot costume would have spelled disaster, but being outed by Jackson would have made it that much worse. Not giving herself away when he’d crushed his mouth down on hers had been difficult. But not nearly as difficult as trying to act like the whole thing was no big deal. She’d failed horribly at that, clinging to him, taking as much from the moment of mistaken identity as she could for as long as it lasted.

She was about to repeat history, teetering on the edge of falling hopelessly into a kiss that was shaking her to the core. And she couldn’t make herself care.

His palm slid along her jaw, moving slower than the teasing drag of his teeth across her bottom lip. His other hand roamed up her thigh, kneading and tugging her closer until he finally gave up on that and hauled her into his lap.

She planted her hands on his chest, marveling at the strength beneath her palms. And the hardness pressing into her hip. Her eyes slid shut, and she arched against him, aching to rub herself along his shaft.

Jackson pushed her hair back from her face. “I don’t want to stop this time, so if this isn’t what you want…”

How did he look so sexy and vulnerable at the same time? Was that part of his charm too? Or was her grandfather right about it being far easier to hurt him than she realized?

“I don’t want to stop,” she whispered. Stopping would mean sacrificing the taste of him on her tongue, the sweep of his fingers up her back. And stopping sure as hell wouldn’t satisfy the hunger licking across every nerve ending in her body.

He waited, his gaze holding hers.

“Do you want me to sign a contract agreeing to it?”

He laughed. “No.”

She brushed her lips across his, letting her tongue slide into his mouth. “Then you need to get back to the part where you were kissing me.”

“Whatever you say, Detective.” He caught the back of her head, holding her to him as he ravaged her mouth.

Her breath stalled in her throat. Jackson pulled at her shirt, gathering the material in his hands and dragging it up her body. His thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts, and her nipples hardened to aching points.

He tugged the shirt off, drinking her in. She shivered beneath the wicked scrutiny that seemed to log every inch of her. The intensity of it threatened to turn her into a molten pool at his feet. All with just a look.