Sister of the Bride (Fool's Gold #2.5)(8)

"You need a distraction."

"Or some kind of mind meld."

"Katie?"

Instinctively she looked up. As soon as she did, he kissed her.

His warm, teasing mouth claimed hers. Skin against skin, the sensual movement making her blissfully incapable of doing much more than feel.

He held her firmly, carefully, but with a confidence that made her willing to surrender. One hand was below the other on her back, angled so his fingertips lightly grazed the curve of her rear. Even through the layers of skirt and petticoat, she felt the heat of him, the pressure.

He touched her lower lip with his tongue and she parted. He swept inside, claiming her with his mouth. She angled her head to deepen the kiss, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself up to the moment.

Wanting swept through her. Need and hunger. It had been a long time since she'd been swept away. Too long. She'd forgotten how good it felt to be held. To have the solid strength of a man's body right against hers.

In the distance, she heard the sound of conversation but ignored it. Nothing mattered but kissing Jackson. As far as she was concerned, she could do this forever.

Apparently he didn't read minds as well as he kissed because after a few minutes, he drew back.

"Better?" he asked.

She blinked at the question. "You did that to distract me?"

"Partly."

Great. So she'd been having an out-of-body, take-me-now experience and he'd been doing the sexual equivalent of patting her on the head.

His mouth curved into a sexy, promising smile. "I also did it because I wanted to."

Four

The next morning Katie forced herself out of bed long before she was ready to leave, pulled on her workout clothes and made her sleepy way down to the hotel gym. She'd barely brushed her teeth, hadn't done a thing with her hair and was pleased she'd remembered to bring a bottle of water. She was also expecting to find the room empty, except for a rabid business person or two.

Instead she found Jackson already sweating on one of the two elliptical machines.

He looked good in sweat, she thought as she stared at him. Tall and lean, but with enough muscle to make life interesting. He had on a headset and was watching the early-morning national news. So far he hadn't noticed her.

After her mother's sexual confessions and the mind-numbing kiss, the rest of the evening had been calm by comparison. Aunt Tully had kept her distance from Jackson, although she continued to eye him with interest. No one had gotten too drunk. But the weekend was young, Katie thought as she made her way to the second elliptical.

Not working out wasn't an option. Not with her weight history and gene pool. If she didn't watch what she ate and exercise regularly, she porked right up. Sad, but true. If she had to face Jackson while looking like a cross between a "before" picture and cat gack, so be it.

She got on the machine and studied the console. She used one just like it at the gym, so she knew what she was in for. After punching in her favorite program and only lying about her weight by seven pounds, she hit the start button and braced herself for pain.

Next to her, Jackson removed his headset. "Morning," he said with a smile.

The man hadn't showered pre-exercise, either. Had done nothing with his hair, hadn't bothered shaving. So why did he get to look like a model advertising naughty sex first thing in the morning?

"Hi."

"You're up early."

"It's necessary to keep my BMI in the two-digit range."

Jackson looked her up and down before shaking his head. "No way. You look great."

She flushed with pleasure. As she was already red-faced from exercise, she had the comfort of knowing he wouldn't notice. "Thanks, but it's true. You saw me at my chunky best. I'm one uncontrolled corn dog away from that happening again."

What Jackson remembered most about Katie as a teenager was how pretty she'd been, even when she'd threatened to beat him up. He hadn't wanted to waste his afternoon with a kid, but the second he'd seen her, he'd been...intrigued. As much as a repressed, nerdish sixteen-year-old boy could be.

He wasn't repressed anymore, he thought, doing his best not to stare at her br**sts bouncing along in time with her movements. Not only didn't he want to get caught looking, his workout shorts wouldn't hide the inevitable reaction to his interest and wouldn't that make for an awkward moment.

"You worry too much," he told her.

"You weren't ever fat," she told him, her blue eyes bright with amusement. "But it's okay. I've been exercising regularly for nearly twelve years and I'm to the point where I almost like it."

He chuckled. "Is that the goal? To enjoy it?"

"Everyone deserves a fantasy life."

"Is that when you got interested in sports? You were exercising?"

She reached for her water bottle and took a long drink. "No. I've always loved sports. I think it's my dad's influence. My mom says instead of reading me fairy stories at night, he would read the sports page. I grew up interested in football and baseball."

"Do you play any?"

She shook her head. "I wish. I've tried them all. The best I can say for myself is I wasn't hideously bad at soccer. I wasn't close to good, but that's okay. I'm just not coordinated. Or fast. Or athletic. You met Aunt Tully. Physically, I take after her. So it's that old saying--those who can do. Those who can't write about it. I went to Ashland College to learn how."