What a Bachelor Needs (Bachelor Auction Book 4)(32)

Mardie finally got the guts to look at him. “I had no business bringing my baggage to the table. I made things far worse than they needed to be.” Finally the tears she’d been holding onto all evening began to fall. “I’m not a victim anymore but I still behave like one in so many ways. I do stupid things. I don’t think right.”

“Hey.”

“I wind people up. I make a bad situation worse.”

“Enough.” He had a tough voice when he decided to use it. A soft touch as he leaned over the counter, just like that first time, and pressed his lips to hers. “Bad night. Explosive situation. Reese knew where it was headed when he called his bouncers in. Not your doing. None of it your fault.”

“But the rest—

“Happened. People are people. Sometimes the mix is wrong. C’mon. Shower for you and then bed.”

“Will you shower with me?”

“You still don’t have any water pressure in there. That job got transferred to tomorrow’s work sheet.”

She didn’t want him to go. “You could shower with me anyway.”

He looked at her as if he could see into her soul. “Okay.”

Will you sleep with me?”

“Yes.”





Chapter Nine




?


When Mardie woke the following morning, she was alone and the clock told her it was a quarter past six. Jett wasn’t in the bathroom or the kitchen and Claire wasn’t in her bed.

She found them fast asleep in front of a slow burning fire in the front room, Jett stretched out on the carpet in track pants, a ragged grey Henley and a couch pillow behind his head, Claire nestled into his chest with one of his arms curled loosely around her, holding her in place. There’d been a blanket at one point, but it had lost the battle and lay scrunched to one side of them.

She wanted to take a photo.

She wanted to cry.

When had Jett gotten up to see to her baby? Around 4 a.m., which was the time Claire normally woke? Why hadn’t he woken her?

She wanted to burn this moment onto the back of her eyelids so she could revisit it on a daily basis.

Instead, she put another log on the fire and got down on her knees and joined them, pulling the blanket up over them and promising herself that later…when daybreak snuck in and shone light on the situation… she’d stop dreaming about what could be.

Today was Friday, and after today Jett was no longer her bought-and-paid-for handyman. She wouldn’t see him on a daily basis. He wouldn’t greet her every morning with his dimples and his demands for more work.

After today… things would get back to normal.

She eased a little closer, pressing up against his length and he was warm and perfect and he roused enough to get his arm around her now that she could buffer Claire. “Is it morning?” he mumbled.

“Not yet.”

And all together they slept.

*

The next time Mardie woke, Claire was beside her munching on a biscuit and Jett was sitting beside her holding two cups of coffee in his hands. “It’s nine thirty,” he said. “When do you need to be at work?”

“Ten thirty.”

“You could call in sick. Worn-out. Jaded.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Mardie regarded him solemnly. “Do you ever not turn up when you don’t feel like training?”

Jett looked as if he wanted to say something. He opened his mouth, hesitated, and finally opted for a simple, “No.”

“Jason Grey gave me a job when no one else would. I have a fine arts degree with a law major. I could do a lot of things. Office work. Clerking. Legal secretary. But Prescott wives didn’t work, unless it was for charity, and ex-Prescott wives have no place in this town. Waitressing was all I could get. Jason gave me a chance. I don’t call in sick when I’m not.”

“He gave you a start, Mardie. I know what loyalty is, but that’s not to say that Jason wouldn’t see you happily move on if you could find work more suited to your circumstances. Work that didn’t trigger you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Stubborn.”

“And I can probably bench-press twenty times my own weight. Ella said.”

“I’d like to see that.”

She sat up and he handed her one of the coffees. Milk, one sugar. He’d remembered. Aside from the smell of the wood stain, it was the only smell in the room. “Claire’s diaper, what happened there?”

“You owe me.”

She did. Mardie couldn’t hide her grin. “You’re kind of perfect. Not that I want to feed that ego of yours, but so be it.”

Jett’s back pocket started vibrating and he reached around and pulled his phone out. “You hold that thought,” he said as he answered it. “Lo.”

Someone started talking at him. A lot. Jett said very little, not all of it encouraging.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Not that interested. Yes, I know it’s an opportunity, but I’ve got other things on.”

“I’ll get back to you,” he said at last.

“My agent,” he said when he hung up. “They want me in Switzerland for a commentator gig.”