In Bed with the Bachelor (Bachelor Auction Book 5)(5)
“To clarify, you want me to meet your fiancé,” he said after a moment, because he had to say something, or his head might explode. Or something worse might happen, right here in Grey’s Saloon in full view of at least three of his relatives. “For business purposes. You don’t actually want me to go on a date with him.”
“I’m sure Terrence would enjoy any date you might plan for him,” she replied, and then she smiled as if she had no idea what a reckless smile like hers could do. It was more powerful than it should have been. It made Terrence Polk, that piece of shit, seem like a decent person instead of the epic loser Jesse personally knew him to be. It made Michaela hard to look at directly, and not in a bad way. Not in any kind of bad way. Worst of all, it shot through him like pure sugar and too much heat, and he scowled at her as if she’d done it to him, deliberately. “He’s very romantic.”
“Have you actually met him?”
“I’ve been dating him for two years and engaged to him for six months.” She didn’t quite roll her eyes. “But no. We’ve never actually met.”
“You’ve been engaged to him for six months after the two years or during the two years?”
She laughed, but not like she thought it was all that funny. “Because those six months are what make the difference? That’s what determines whether or not I know him, in your unsolicited opinion?”
“I,” he heard himself say, harsh and rough, like a complete dick, “am not going to go on anything even remotely resembling a date with Terrence freaking Polk.”
He expected her to flinch away from him. Cry, maybe. He probably deserved it.
But Michaela only eyed him. Not without wariness. But not as if she was about to wheel around and race for the door or the safety of the group she’d come in with, either.
“Really, you don’t have to do anything,” she said calmly. Too calmly for his peace of mind, in fact, and he opted not to analyze why that snuck beneath his skin and stuck there. “My aunts and cousins mean well, but they shouldn’t have interfered. Terrence has a lot of plans and a lot of balls in the air. He always does and, sooner or later, they always work out. It’s just a question of waiting to see which one works out first this time.”
And this was not his business, Jesse thought, looking down at this woman who had complicated all but stamped on her forehead. It wasn’t his business and she wasn’t his problem and this was not the kind of thing he wanted in his life in any way, shape, or form. Hell, no. It meant nothing at all to Jesse that Terrence Polk had managed to snow this admittedly lovely stranger into overlooking his basic worthlessness as a human being. That was her mistake to make, and the fact her lips were a temptation made real was unfortunate, nothing more.
This had nothing to do with him. She had nothing to do with him.
“Have him look me up if that takes longer than expected,” Jesse said, so gruffly he was practically a parody of his uncle. But he figured there were way worse things he could be—like too involved with any woman ever again, for any reason. He’d sworn that crap off right along with his ex and his father. He’d meant it then and he still did. “I’ll let him buy me a cup of coffee.”
Chapter Two
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The only thing more disconcerting than Jesse Grey scowling at her in the shadows of a wild west saloon after a long, strange evening was Jesse Grey in her Aunt Cathy’s front hall the following afternoon, looming there next to the framed needlework and dated, vaguely floral wallpaper, looking six times more dark and annoyed than he had the night before.
“Oh. Um. Hi,” was Michaela’s bold, incisive response to the sight of him. She’d walked in from the kitchen, expecting to see one of her cousins after she’d heard the door slam, and she’d stopped dead in her tracks when it had turned out to be Jesse, of all people, instead. She assured herself that was a perfectly reasonable response. It wasn’t every day a man who looked like Jesse turned up, much less unshaven and dangerous-looking, wearing those damned jeans and a knit hat tugged low, with nothing but a fleece against the snow outside.
Terrence would agree that this was reasonable. Rational, even, given Jesse’s astonishing good looks. It would be odd if she didn’t have this reaction to him. So there was absolutely no reason at all that she should feel something a whole lot like guilt that she did.
“What are you doing?” She swallowed. “Here, I mean?”
He glared, apparently not finding any of her responses all that reasonable, and she ignored the little part of her, down deep inside, that agreed.
“Are you ready?”
“Ready?”
His jaw, already a masterwork of carved marble, turned even more stony as she watched. “To go.”
Michaela blinked. She was aware, on some level, that she was still standing there half in and half out of her aunt’s front hall, rooted to the floor, like maybe he wasn’t the only thing made of marble. “Go? Go where?”
That scowl of Jesse’s took on a life of his own. The fine, masculine lines of his rangy body all drew tight and the way he glared at her should have knocked her back a few steps. Instead, she could only gaze at him as she understood, for the first time in her life, the real meaning of the word dumbfounded.
“Did you get hit over the head?” he asked, gruffly. More gruffly. “And let me give you fair warning. If you repeat that question back to me, I can’t promise I won’t lose my shit.”