Fallen Woman(43)

He dropped my hand and moved to a dresser before producing a T-shirt and pair of boxers. “I’m sure it’s not what you’d prefer to sleep in, but it’s the best I can do on short notice.” The wink he sent my way had my panties bunched up. He had no clue what I’d do to sleep in his clothes every night.

“Sorry to impose. Things were getting a little crazy at Drake’s, and he sent me to you.”

He rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw muscles just slightly. “I can imagine, but you’re always welcome here.”

I took the clothes from his outstretched hand and he motioned me to the bathroom. My thoughts ran wild being in his house, in his clothes, with my children asleep upstairs. I mentally slapped myself, refusing to allow my mind to play house with Jase Lane. I quickly changed and folded my clothes neatly on the counter. Emerging into his room, I found him perched on the side of the bed, staring at the bathroom door and then me. I had rolled the top of the boxers down to keep them from falling off, leaving them invisible beneath the hem of his shirt that swallowed me. If I hadn’t known better, if it had been any other man, I’d swear he was looking at me like he wanted me to be his next meal, but his gaze shifted and the moment was lost. Awkward.

He stood and adjusted himself in the process. I tried to keep my focus on his gray eyes and not the shorts, but I was struggling. My heart was so twisted up in Jase Lane I’d never find freedom from the knot. He cleared his throat and brought me back to the present. “Do you want to watch TV with me for a little while before you go to bed? I know it’s late, but I usually need time to wind down when I get home. All the guest rooms are upstairs, but you can stay down here and go up when you’re ready.” He spoke in rapid succession, and I couldn’t help but think of him as a nervous teenager. I caught a glimpse of the awkwardness he claimed to be a victim of in his youth. It was endearing. This man, who could buy the majority of the city, whose family had more power and wealth than that of five countries, was nervous being alone with a woman.

I felt my eyes twinkle with a hint of laughter as my cheeks pushed them closed with a smile. I loved everything about Jase—including his awkward nerd. His bed was unmade, which must have been the only unkempt thing in the house. I climbed in the middle, situated the pillows, and pulled the covers up to my waist. He stood in the same spot with his head tilted to the side just slightly and his quirky grin playing games. I bit my bottom lip as the scar above his eye caught my attention.

“You going to stand there?”

He shook his head. “Sorry. I’ve never seen a woman in my bed.”

Stop the train.

Hold the phone.

He’d never seen a woman in his bed.

My brows scrunched up, unsure I’d heard him correctly. “What?”

Jase was silent while he joined me on the bed and leaned back against the headboard. His armed draped lazily behind the small of my back. I desperately wanted to lie down and curl into his side, but I stayed put. “Nope. Not one.” Aware of my disbelief, he continued. “I told you I’m not good with women. I never have been. And I haven’t wanted them in my home.”

Involuntarily, my head did a slow nod in acknowledged skepticism.

“Stop reading too much into it. Just because I never bring women here doesn’t mean I haven’t been with anyone.”

“So why am I here?”

He shifted to his side, his hand brushing my butt as he adjusted himself. “What do you mean? You’re my best friend, Gia. Why wouldn’t I want you in my home?”

“Your home is different than your bed.” I didn’t know what it was about Jase that caused me to speak before I thought about the words coming out of my mouth, but right now, I wanted to hide in a closet.

“You’re not naked in my bed, so don’t make it perverse.”

And there was the cold bucket of ice water I needed to cool my libido. Having sobered my thoughts, I steered the conversation in a safe direction. “How were the kids tonight?”

Jase launched into animated details of their evening and all the things they’d done. He never turned the TV on, and as he told me stories, I watched his face with admiration. This man spoke of my children with love as though they were his and he was proud of them. They’d gone to ride the little go-carts, and Emmy was scared, but she toughed it out and loved it. The look on his face was one of pride—like she was his child. I watched the memory linger in his eyes before he shifted his focus to me and his face fell.

“What’s wrong with her, Gianna?”

The question seemingly came out of nowhere and slapped me upside the head. “What do you mean?” I hoped he’d let me play dumb. I wasn’t ready to give out this information and see his perception of me change.

“She told me she’s sick and has been for a long time. I know you take her to the doctor a lot, but I just thought that was kids being kids with colds and shit. But when I asked her if she had a cold she said no, it wasn’t that kind of sick. I didn’t press her, and she didn’t offer any more information.”

I waved him off and told him she was making more of it than it was. “Kids take things to the extreme, Jase.”

Silence hung in the air while he debated internally about continuing the questions. I waited. “Okay.” He replied with a yawn and pulled my arm out from under me.