Busted (Promise Harbor Wedding)(42)

But none of them were Hayley.

After they’d left Sunset Bluff yesterday, he’d been desperate to strip her down and finish what they’d started. The walk back to the truck had been borderline excruciating, his hard-on refusing to go down even a little.

He’d been ready to explode by the time he got her into the shower, where she’d gone down on him. They hadn’t even finished getting cleaned up before he dragged her out of there, intent on finding a bed and getting her beneath him. He’d made it four feet down the hall before the urge to be inside her had trumped everything else. Against the wall, he pushed up into her for just a second, and f*ck it had felt amazing.

Almost as amazing as keeping her close when she’d finally fallen asleep. There was no way he was letting her sneak out on him again. Not that she didn’t try. She just didn’t get very far before he dragged her on top of him.

“Great turnout, huh?” Matt flashed the smile of a man who could appreciate the added business.

Hawks hockey jerseys flashed blue and white around the room, identifying the kids here to support Kyle. The kid of the hour was hanging out next to the buffet table—along with most of the players, actually. Every once in a while a parent had to step in when they got a bit rowdy, but Jackson had to give them credit for behaving and sticking close to Kyle.

The bar was hopping, and Jackson enjoyed the temporary breather from his spot behind the bar.

“Nice digs.”

Jackson ignored Matt.

His friend laughed. “Bernice dressed you, didn’t she? You could have ended up in something worse than a Hawks jersey. She could have made you wear one of those hideous bridesmaid dresses.”

Truthfully, Jackson couldn’t decide what outfit would have been worse. The jersey made him much too identifiable in the crowd, and he would have preferred to blend in. Everyone was supposed to see the merchandise, though, according to Bernice. He’d been fully prepared to argue with her about the jersey being overkill when Coach had come along, insisting he should be proud to wear it. Guilt trip all the way.

“He was playing you, you know?”

“I know.” Jackson picked Coach out in the crowd. He was sitting in a wheelchair at a table next to Matt and Hayley’s mother. Coach didn’t give a rat’s ass what Jackson wore. The old man just wanted to watch him squirm.

“How come he thinks you and Hayley are a real couple?”

Jackson shrugged. “People talk.”

That apparently wasn’t gonna flying with Matt. “Why did you guys let him believe that?”

“He was going to cut off Jackson’s pecker.”

They both turned at the sound of the voice.

Nurse Trudy pushed her empty glass toward them. “Refill of Bromance Ale, please.”

Jackson gaped, unsure whether he should ask her what the hell she was talking about, or protect his groin.

Matt refilled the glass, waiting until the nurse returned to Coach’s table. “What was that about?”

“I have no idea.” And frankly he had the feeling he was better off not knowing.

“Gramps couldn’t figure out why Hayley was fine with you being in the auction, so he gave her two hundred dollars to make sure she wins you.”

“He did what?”

Matt nodded. “Pulled it from under the mattress in his hospital room.” Matt filled another drink and turned back to him. “You nervous?”

“Nope.”

“Then why have you been drying that glass for three full minutes?”

He countered that with another question. “Why would I be nervous?”

“Maybe you’re worried she won’t show.” Matt frowned, looking a little stunned by the possibility he might be right.

Jackson shrugged. “She’s my cover, right?”

“Sure she’s not more than that?”

Setting aside the glass before Matt made any more assumptions about what it meant, he wiped at the counter. “It’s not… We’re not serious like that.”

Matt folded his arms like he was settling in to be convinced. More than a little disconcerted, Jackson opted to say nothing. It would be better than dismissing the whole thing and come off sounding like a dick and angering his friend.

That made way more sense than allowing himself to wonder if there was anything to what Matt said, and whether or not he was the one who had ended up a little over his head.

“Our next bachelor is Matt Stone.” Bernice’s voice carried above the crowd, and Jackson nearly sighed in relief.

Matt clapped him on the back. “Whatever is going on, just know that I love you, bro. But if you break my sister’s heart I’m going break your legs. And cut off your pecker.” Grinning, he hopped over the bar and was swallowed by the crowd.

Jackson poured drinks, ignoring the nervous tension spinning figure eights in his stomach as the bidding on Matt started. Everyone had turned away from the bar to watch the two women caught up in a bidding war for Matt.

Six hundred dollars later, Matt went to the petite brunette Jackson remembered from the wedding reception.

And that wasn’t good because that meant Jackson was next, and Hayley still hadn’t arrived.





“Dressed to kill, Stone.”

Hayley grinned at Gauthier’s comment, laughing when the lemon doughnut he was eating squirted a glob of yellow jelly down the front of the detective’s shirt. He scooped it up on his finger and shoved it in his mouth, then motioned for her to spin.

She rolled her eyes but accommodated the simple request, enjoying the breezy feeling of the cotton summer dress flowing around her knees. The snug black and white material hugged her from breasts to hips, then dropped in flattering waves. She’d only worn it once before and was glad she’d discovered it at the back of the closet at her apartment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the benefit?”

“Just running a little late.” Not unheard of when she mixed work with renovations. She’d lost track of time while painting her nan’s sewing room, preferring to do that room herself.

She grabbed her forgotten cell phone off her desk, and when she turned back around, Gauthier was already walking away, probably heading for the bathroom to clean his shirt off.

“Hayley,” the rookie from the other night walked toward her, a couple in their midforties trailing close behind. “Could you show this couple down the hall? I’m going to send Gauthier in to talk to them. Our favorite felon struck again.”

“May I?” She took the file he held out, skimming the preliminary notes on the break-in at their rented condo and reported loss of nearly two thousand dollars in cash. Clearly not credit card or travelers check people. She noted the address, putting it in a more upscale tourist area that their thief hadn’t ventured into before now.

Resisting the urge to volunteer to interview them in more depth herself, she motioned for them to precede her down the hall. “Detective Gauthier will be right with you.”

“Aren’t you the cop who—”

Hayley inwardly braced for “…is dating that hockey player.”

“—chased down the burglar a couple nights ago?” The woman pointed to the stitches at Hayley’s hairline.

Relieved that their recognition had nothing to do with Jackson, she nodded. Maybe she had gotten too caught up in what people thought, forgetting her work spoke for itself.

“I think we should talk to you instead.”

Hayley glanced at her watch, knowing she was going to be cutting it awfully close. “No problem.”

She led them into the small conference room, making a few additional notes and trying to figure out why the couple appeared familiar. At first she thought maybe they’d been in town for the wedding, but a memory of seeing them with Eric at Stone’s earlier this week solved the mystery.

Forty-five minutes later Hayley hurried up the steps to Stone’s. Finding a spot had been impossible, forcing her to park a few blocks down.

She walked right into a wall of people standing around. Apologizing, she squeezed past them just as she spotted Jackson on the makeshift stage where the dance floor normally was.

She grinned, her smile falling almost just as quickly as the auctioneer she couldn’t see announced, “Sold!”





Chapter Twelve


Bernice had won Jackson. Shit.

Hayley stared as the crowd surged forward, some laughing and high-fiving Bernice, others just shaking their heads when they noticed her nearby. She forced a smile, a little stunned to find she had to make an effort to pull it off.

She hadn’t planned on bidding at the start, and yet somewhere between then and now she’d decided to go ahead, and she was too late.

“Did you two break up?”

She ignored the question from a woman next to her, telling herself she wasn’t that disappointed. She and Jackson weren’t a real couple like everyone else believed. He wasn’t staying in Promise Harbor. So why was her stomach in knots at the thought of him going on a pointless date with anyone else?