The Closer You Come (The Original Heartbreakers, #1)(67)

“Dibs,” Brook Lynn echoed. He wanted to help her? Had insisted on it, even scaring away the competition?

And he wanted her to avoid other men?

Was it her birthday?

“Give me that phone,” Brook Lynn said. “I need to ask him where exactly we stand, where we’re going with this and where he wants to end up.” Simple questions.

“No way,” Kenna said. “He’ll do what he threatened and come here.”

“Even better!”

“No!”

“Give me!” she demanded, lunging for her friend.

Kenna threw the flip to Jessie Kay, who dropped it and kicked it across the store. Brook Lynn crawled to her sister and grabbed her phone.

“Why don’t you play a little hard to get?” Jessie Kay gasped out.

“Why should I? I gambled, and I won. Now I want my prize. I deserve it.”

Kenna raced over and swatted Brook Lynn’s wrist until she dropped the other phone. “Did you know she would turn into a needy hobag after a few drinks?” she demanded of Jessie Kay.

“No!” Jessie Kay tried to back away, saying, “It’s as much a surprise to me as it is to you.”

Brook Lynn grabbed hold of her sister’s ankle and yanked. The girl flailed and fell, landing with a hard thud, the hem of her dress ending up bunched at her waist, revealing lacy blue panties.

Kenna tried to help Jessie Kay stand, but Brook Lynn dove on her. “I’m not needy—I’m curious. Now gimme!”

“Have we decided on a color, ladies?” The prim voice of the saleswoman echoed. “Or a design?”

The three of them froze.

“Um...still mulling things over, ma’am,” Kenna said.

“I’d like to see that little light blue number over there,” Jessie Kay said, pointing.

The saleswoman walked away, grumbling under her breath. Kenna helped Jessie Kay and Brook Lynn stand.

Steady on my feet—almost.

“Why don’t we call it a day?” Kenna said.

While she and her sister changed into their regular clothes—after Jessie Kay ruled out the blue dress she’d made the saleswoman fetch for her—Kenna gathered the fallen phones. As her friend drove her home, Brook Lynn began to lose her buzz...but not her sense of happy.

Jase wants me!

It would be smooth sailing from here. No doubt about it.

*

JASE NEARLY POUNCED on Brook Lynn when she showed up for work Monday morning. Spending the weekend away from her had been torture. His mind had been locked on her, unable to think of anything or anyone else. He’d wondered what she was doing and who she was doing it with. He’d wanted to know if she missed him. If she’d thought about him at all...craved him, unable to sleep, the desire in her little body too much to bear.

Her texts had been a gift from above...or a means of torment from far, far below. He wasn’t sure yet. He somehow found the strength to go out back and get to work on his own chores without hounding her with a million questions.

Have to let her do her thing during office hours.

What seemed an eternity later, she carried a glass of ice water out to him. A blush stained her cheeks. Remembering what she’d texted to him?

“Thank you.” His mouth went dry and he drained the contents—if it wasn’t the Oklahoma heat, it could only be the woman standing in front of him. “I’m still waiting to hear today’s affirmations.”

At first, she didn’t respond. Finally, though, she cleared her throat and said, “I am at one with my duality.”

Funny girl. A jab at his hot-and-cold treatment of her?

“So we’re going to act like Friday night didn’t happen and the texts Saturday stemmed only from the alcohol,” he said. “Got it.”

Silence.

Such tense silence.

But it was a blessing. One word of encouragement, and he would have picked her up and carried her straight to bed. Now that he had firsthand knowledge of the curves hidden by her clothes, the softness of her skin and the sweetness of her taste, being with her wasn’t a want—it was a need.

I’m going to start by running my fingers down your chest, all the way to your zipper...

He handed her the glass and returned to hammering new pieces of shingle into the roof, her scent surrounding him. Vanilla and sugar today. “By the way. Your phone is a POS. I want to get hold of you when I want to get hold of you. Consider this a bonus for working for me.” He pointed to the box resting beside the grill.

She picked up the device and frowned at him. “You bought me a phone?”

“Yes. And there are no take backs.”

“But—”

“No buts. It’s yours. Agree and save us an argument.”

“I... Thank you,” she said, then quietly returned to the house.

He glanced over just as she disappeared beyond the door and caught a glimpse of long blond hair swishing at the waist of her shorts, a pert little ass he’d like to sink his teeth into and the lithe legs he wanted wrapped around his head.

A moan escaped him, his body so hard he could have used it as a battering ram. Hell. He wanted to use it as a battering ram.

Not yet. And not just because of her work hours and pay. She’d tied him in knots, and those knots had to be undone first. Otherwise, there was no telling what he would allow to happen. Like, say, feeling more, deeper...wanting more.