The Bad Boy of Bluebonnet
Page 8
He looked thoughtful. “I do change a mean light bulb.”
A giggle escaped her.
“I guess I just have a hard time asking a girl to take a chance on me when I don’t feel like I have much to offer.”
She gaped. Just a little. “Not much to offer? Are you kidding? You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re kind, you’re good with your hands, you’re great in bed, and you make me laugh and feel totally comfortable.” This time, it was Emily that scooted a little closer. “And best of all, you are always there when I need you.”
“Well,” he said softly. “All right then.”
She tilted her head back and gazed up at him. “You make me happy and you’re there for me. I don’t think a girl could ask for more.”
“So…all that shit I said about us being casual? I lied. I don’t want you seeing anyone but me.”
“I don’t want anyone but you,” she whispered happily. “And I don’t want you to see anyone but me.”
“Emily Allard-Smith, ever since I met you, I haven’t been able to see anyone but you.”
“See, there you go again, always saying the right things,” she said, snuggling up to him. He looped an arm around her shoulders and he felt so good, so very right. “And I’m pretty sure I’m going to go back to just Emily Allard. The ‘Smith’ part kind of gets on my nerves.”
He laughed. “Me too. Me fucking too.”
She grinned up at him.
Jericho smiled down at her and leaned in and lightly, ever so lightly, brushed his lips over her mouth. “You’re pretty amazing, Emily Allard.”
“You are too, Jericho Lozada,” she said, and pushed in for more kisses, her arms going around his neck. The jacket slid off her back and pooled onto the dock, but she didn’t care. The taste of Jericho, the feel of him, the scent of him, it enveloped her, and she was gloriously, deliriously happy. “So,” she breathed against his mouth when they parted. “You ever made love on a dock?”
~~ * * *~~
They did, in fact, make love on the dock. It was tricky because they left most of their clothing on in case of splinters. It ended up being a lot of mutual masturbation until Jericho shoved his pants down, pulled out a condom, and pushed Emily’s panties aside and thrust into her. Then, Jericho had to keep muffling Emily’s orgasmic shrieks with kisses, but they both managed to come until they were seeing stars – both literally and figuratively – and stagger back to his motorcycle an hour later.
Emily clung to Jericho, feeling lazy and wonderful, as he strapped the bike helmet under her chin. “I’d ask you to move in with me tonight, you know, but I feel like my house has been invaded by the Spooky Squad.” She made an unhappy face.
He cupped her chin. “It’s your house. You said you got it in the divorce, right? Make him leave. Unless you want me to make him leave.”
“No, I can handle it,” she said. “Unless you think it’s too bitchy of me to throw out my ex and all his employees when I’m the only bed and breakfast in town?”
“Oh, it’d be bitchy,” Jericho said with a laugh. “And it’d make me damn happy.”
Come to think of it, it’d make her pretty happy, too. “My sister’s dating a cop,” she told him. “A really big one. Think I should call in a favor?”
“What else are all those brownies you bake for?” He leaned in and kissed her. “I’ll support you whatever you want to do, you know. I’m here for you.”
Happy tears filled her eyes. That was all she’d ever wanted – support and understanding. “I know. And I appreciate it more than you can ever imagine.” She pulled out her cellphone and grimaced at the time. “I hope Luanne’s working tonight or she’s going to be super grumpy.”
“I guess it doesn’t have to be tonight,” Jericho said thoughtfully. “You could always kick them out in the morning.”
“Oh, it needs to be tonight,” she assured him. “Or else they’re going to film their stupid show. I just have a feeling.” With that horrible thought running through her head, she pulled up Luanne’s number and hit ‘call’.
Luanne answered on the first ring. “I can see the Spooky Squad vans in front of your house, and I’d like to say just one thing. If you’re calling me to tell me you’ve reconciled with That Man, as your sister, I love you and support you, but I’m not thrilled.”
Emily giggled. “Actually, I was wondering if Hank was busy.”
“Oh, he’s out playing patrol cop. It’s a quiet night. What’s up?”
“I seem to have a lot of uninvited guests at my house.”
Luanne made an excited squeal in the back of her throat. “Oh my God, can I please please please send him over to throw everyone out?”
“What are sisters for?”
~~ * * * ~~
Within an hour, Luanne had called Hank Sharp back from his patrol and sent him on to the Peppermint House, just in time for Emily and Jericho to pull up on Jericho’s motorcycle.
She waved at Hank as she pulled her helmet off.
When he approached, Hank gestured at her now-dark house. “You sure you want to do this? All the lights are off. They might be asleep.”
Emily looked at the Spooky Squad vans in her parking lot. “If I know my ex, they turned off the lights because they’re having a taping session against my wishes. The dark makes things more dramatic, you know.”
Hank adjusted the night stick on his belt. “All right. Want me to go in first?”
Emily shook her head and smiled at Jericho. “No, that’s my job.”
She went up the porch steps and pushed open her front door…and nearly tripped on a tangle of extension cords that crossed the threshold. Anger flared in Emily’s mind, but she forced it back. “Watch your step,” she said, familiar with this sort of thing. “Just like I thought, they’re filming and they have cords everywhere.”
They stepped carefully through the house, past scattered equipment that had likely been unboxed the moment Emily had left the house. Sure enough, she found Braden at the base of her attic stairs, just about to head up, a cute Spooky Squad assistant hovering close by. He had his EMF meter in hand and the assistant was filming with a handheld camera.
“Caught red handed, I see,” Emily said drily and flicked on the hall light.
Braden squinted in her direction, and then his gaze focused on the extremely tall police officer behind her. “Emily, what’s going on?”
“I’m getting the police to toss you and your crew out of my house,” she said, and was surprised at the vindictive thrill she felt saying those words. “I don’t want you back, I don’t want you here, I most certainly do not want you filming, and for the last time, I do not have ghosts. I had possums.”
“Nine of them,” Jericho added. He crossed his big, tattooed arms and looked rather menacing. She liked that.
Braden’s eyes narrowed. He rushed forward, pocketing his meter and waving aside his assistant. When he got to Emily, he tried to pull her aside, but Jericho stepped in front, blocking Braden’s view. That was sweet of him.
“It’s okay,” she told Jericho. “I’ve got this covered.” And she did, she really did.
“Please tell me you’re not kicking me out because of something this felon said,” Braden hissed at her in a low voice.
“I’m not,” Emily said easily. “I’m kicking you out because I asked you time and time again not to film here, and the only reason you’re here is not for me, but for your show. You’ve always put it above what I wanted, and this time, I’m getting what I want. And what I want is for you to get out.”
“You can’t make me,” Braden said. “My name is on the mortgage too!”
Hank stepped forward, all nearly-seven-feet of him. His stern face looked ominous even to Emily. “If I’m understanding Miss Emily correctly, you forfeited the house when you were divorced two years ago. Is that correct?”
Braden’s face flushed.
“If that’s so, then I imagine your contracts were amended and your name taken off the mortgage. Am I st
ill correct?” Hank’s tone was mild but he placed a hand on the pommel of his nightstick.
Braden said nothing.
“Then I would assume you have no claim on this house anymore,” Hank said. “Now tell me again that you aren’t going to leave this house.”
“I’ll start packing,” said Braden’s assistant, her eyes wide.
“I thought so,” Hank said. “And I’ll just stick around to make sure you all don’t trouble Miss Emily.” He crossed his arms and stood in the hallway like a sentinel, waiting.
Braden looked back at Emily helplessly. “Please, baby—“
“Not your baby,” she said sweetly. “Not any longer.”
He scowled and stormed away, grabbing a camera off of a nearby tripod and beginning to dismantle it, shooting her glares as he did.
An arm went around her shoulders, and Jericho drew her against him. “That was awesome. I’m really proud of you.”
“I’m rather proud of me, too.” And she was. It was her house and her life, and she’d live it however she damn well wanted.
“It does bring up a point, though.”
She looked up at him, all tattooed and pierced and fierce and so utterly gorgeous. “What’s that?”
Jericho gave her one of those sultry looks that made her panties wet. “If you’re not going to be his baby, will you be mine?”
She turned and put her arms around his neck. “Abso-fucking-lutely.” And she pulled him down to her in a sweet, possessive kiss.
They were still kissing when Braden left.
<<<
For Luanne’s story, pick up the Hot Summer Nights anthology.
For Elise’s story, pick up The Virgin’s Guide to Misbehaving.
From the Author
Thank you for reading this book! Seriously – thank you. Somewhere out there, a unicorn just farted a rainbow out of sheer happiness. And your hair sure is pretty today! Have you lost weight? No? Well, keep doing what you’re doing, because you look fabulous.
Anyhow…
If you are the type that likes to review what you’ve read, I’d love for you to leave me a review – let me know what you thought. Feedback is super important to people like me that juggle three or more series at once. We love feedback like chocolate loves peanut butter. And the more feedback I get, the more it tells me what I need to work on next. So if you want more Bluebonnet books, let me know!
Newsletter
Want to know when the latest release hits?
SIGN UP FOR JESSICA'S NEWSLETTER HERE
Need more Bluebonnet?
All of the Bluebonnet books are available wherever ebooks are sold!
The Girl’s Guide to (Man) Hunting
The Billionaire of Bluebonnet
The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male
Hot Summer Nights
The Expert’s Guide to Driving a Man Wild
The Virgin’s Guide to Misbehaving
The Bad Boy of Bluebonnet
If you liked the Bluebonnet series, you might also want to try the Billionaire Boys Club series. The Billionaire Boys Club is a secret society of six men who have vowed success—at any cost. Not all of them are old money, but all of them are incredibly wealthy. They’re just not always as successful when it comes to love…
Stranded With A Billionaire
Beauty And The Billionaire
The Wrong Billionaire’s Bed
Once Upon A Billionaire
Romancing The Billionaire
About Jessica Clare
Jessica Clare is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author who writes under three different names. As Jill Myles, she writes a little bit of everything, from sexy, comedic urban fantasy to zombie fairy tales. As Jessica Clare, she writes erotic contemporary romance.
She also has a third pen name (because why stop at two?). As Jessica Sims, she writes fun, sexy shifter paranormals. She lives in Texas with her husband, cats, and too many dust-bunnies. Jill spends her time writing, reading, writing, playing video games, and doing even more writing.
Other Titles by Jessica Clare
A Games Novel
Wicked Games
Playing Games
Ice Games
Bedroom Games
Reindeer Games
Body Games
Partner Games
Pleasure Games
Billionaire Boys Club
Stranded With A Billionaire
Beauty And The Billionaire
The Wrong Billionaire’s Bed
Once Upon A Billionaire
Romancing The Billionaire
Bluebonnet
The Girl’s Guide to (Man)Hunting
The Billionaire of Bluebonnet
The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male
Hot Summer Nights
The Expert’s Guide to Driving a Man Wild
The Virgin’s Guide to Misbehaving
Hitman Novel
written with Jen Frederick
Last Hit
Last Gift
Last Breath
Table of Contents
The Bad Boy of Bluebonnet
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
From the Author
About Jessica Clare
Other Titles by Jessica Clare