by Crowe, Liz
Jack’s entire body buzzed and every nerve ending danced with need as he kept himself separate from her. “Sorry. Hope she didn’t upset you.”
Sara touched her hair. He felt the nervousness and anxiety pour off her like a wave. That crazy bitch. Leave it to her to mess up his plan. Sara smiled, keeping her distance from him. “No, she’s fine. Pleaded your case for you, actually. Cute.”
“Oh, um, okay.” He blinked and tried to convince himself the other thing he picked up from her mirrored his own thoughts of pure, unbridled need. He gulped, then recovered. “So, good call on the music.”
She laughed, sending chills down his spine. He curled his hands into fists deep in his pockets.
Keep it casual, for now.
“I think you’ll like this band, too.” He nodded toward the stage where the group of guys and one girl prepared to perform. “Can I get you a drink?”
She kept her eyes on him, making him nervous with the intensity of her stare. “No, thanks. I’ll, um, just go see…” She gave up and dropped onto a barstool. “Why are you doing this?”
He moved closer, letting his body take over, then clamping down on the urge to kiss her, an urge that pierced him straight through the chest. His vision darkened. The room went quiet in his ears as he zeroed in on her lips. Suddenly he knew what he had to do. It was not a simple matter of seducing her. He had a harder job ahead. One that would prove his intentions for the long run. He sighed, touched her lips with a finger.
She shivered. “Go away, Jack. Work the party. Leave me alone.”
He turned without a word, lest he risk acting like a complete idiot. He took a breath. He knew her so well, he could practically read the scroll of conflicting messages crossing her brain right now. Thing was, he wasn’t any better. He was just as conflicted.
He looked around, spotted Evan chatting with members of city council at the other end of the bar, and headed over to him, needing his advice.
Sara watched his broad, retreating shoulders and fixed her mind on resistance. She had to. It couldn’t be any other way with him. No matter what anyone said now, no matter that Blake even seemed to think it inevitable.
The dialogue she’d imagined between them, the way they could ease back into their relationship, seemed ludicrous and naive now. She couldn’t handle it. Didn’t want to.
At the same time, she wanted nothing more.
She let Greg Stewart drag her onto the dance floor as the band launched into their first set. She stayed there for a solid forty-five minutes, doing her best to avoid the one man she wanted to see again, so desperately it made her feel dizzy.
By the time she’d broken a sweat and danced with three or four different guys, she realized every single song the band covered was one she had on her playlist. Something Jack had laughed at once, then, apparently requested for her, tonight.
She laughed, raised her arms, let herself go, and caught his eye again. He stood at the bar deep in conversation with his friend Evan. She smiled and turned, shook her hips probably more than was necessary, but no longer caring. She wanted to have fun. She needed some release from the buckets full of tension she’d been lugging around with her for months.
The band took a break and she let one of the guys from her office tug her over to the bar. She slammed back some water, keeping her gaze on the guy running his mouth next to her, unable to hear him or feel anything but raw need for the man across the room.
The room had narrowed to two people as far as Jack was concerned. He had planned this thing weeks ago, but had spent the past ten days or so working every last detail. He made small talk, flirted, and pretended to drink knowing he’d require his wits about him later. While remaining fully aware of Sara location was in the room. She moved around, doing her thing, unaware of what he had planned for her.
Evan had talked him out of going full Dom on her, thank Christ. It really wasn’t what he wanted to do anyway, but had convinced himself it might help.
“Nope. Don’t even try,” his friend had advised. “That’s not you anymore. Especially not with her. You have to be who you are with the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with, my man.” He’d smacked Jack on the shoulder and walked away, leaving him flabbergasted at the man’s prescience. “I know it’s tempting, but for what it’s worth, I say let all that go now. And get Sara back.”
He put his glass down on a passing tray and looked up to see Greg Stewart frowning at him, cigar clenched in his teeth.
“Hey, Greg,” he muttered as he watched some tool tug Sara off the dance floor and monopolize her in a way that set his teeth on edge. “What’s up? Don’t you like the stogie?”
“Yeah, I do, thanks.” Greg growled at him. “What I don’t like is what is going on with you and my new superstar over there. You know, the hot one in the black dress?”
Jack pulled his eyes away from her and stared at his broker.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Gordon. Pam made me come over here and tell you to leave her the fuck alone.”
“Well, if I remember correctly, if you and your wife had your way, I’d be her manager right now,” Jack said. He wasn’t about to take personal life advice from Greg Stewart. He’d lucked into a wife who put up with his fucking around for years before he got a grip on his good fortune and stopped doing it.
“Yeah, well, good thing you passed on that because that would be a hot mess I wouldn’t want to untangle. She cut you loose once. Can’t you take a hint?”
Greg put a hand on his arm.
“Listen, Jack, you have no reason to take advice from me. We’re just worried about her, and I don’t think you should mess with her anymore. Just my two cents.”
They both turned and observed Sara a minute in silence. As Greg walked way, Jack grabbed a drink off a passing tray and drained it. He’d not been drinking much at all in the weeks since the football game and the two he’d had so far were going down way too fast. He snagged water and held onto it, trying not to look as conflicted as he felt.
Sara begged off from the next round of dancing, needing to hydrate some more, and found herself standing next to Adam, Mr. Condo Fucker with a Fiancée.
“Hi, Sara. you look amazing tonight,” he said, leaning over to kiss her.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, what next? She kissed him back, lightly.
“Well, hello there,” she said as she turned away from him, and finished her water. It was amazing what a year did. There had been a time when this guy had been the Next Best Thing in her universe. Now, he represented a moment in time she wanted back—the early rush of adrenaline as she and Jack got to know each other.
“….and so, I ended up rattling around that huge place on my own,” she heard him say as she turned back and stared at him.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Oh, just that Lou ended up, um, moving away before, you know…” He trailed off and glanced around the room.
She shrugged. Figured. “Well, sorry about that.” She moved a few inches away from him as the band switched gears into some more modern stuff, and she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“May I?” Blake. She smiled at Adam and waved as her brother led her onto the dance floor. Within seconds of tuning to face him she locked eyes with the blonde woman who’d tried to insert herself as Mrs. Jack Gordon, the one whose house Sara had sold, bringing on this entire insanity with the man as far as she was concerned.
Well the gang is certainly all here. She watched as the woman zeroed in on Jack.
The room’s lighting changed, making it darker, more like a club with lights over the bar and from the street casting a glow over the band and dancers. The noise in the room escalated as the non-dancers carried on conversations over the live music.
Yet another one of her favorite indie rock songs blasted out from the speakers. Sara broke away from Blake and danced alone for a moment before Jack appeared in front of her, his presence sucking up
the oxygen in her space. She moved nearer, warning bells clanging in her head, but her body warming, getting lighter as he danced with her. He had an un-self-conscious rhythm, matching hers, not too over-the-top but not the bogus shuffling so many less-confident guys adopted on the dance floor.
They’d hit some great nightclubs in St. Bart’s. Sara grinned at the memory. He’d made her play a game with him there. Pretend they didn’t know each other, let him pick her up, work for it a little, until they slammed the bathroom door shut and he fucked her up against the wall. Her face heated up, matching the slow burn in her core.
They didn’t talk. Just danced and danced. Sara felt sweat pooling between her breasts but her hands stayed ice cold. After three songs, she had a sudden desire to get away – to escape Jack’s inevitable, unexplainable pull. She held up her hands.
“Break time,” she said and started to turn away from him before she made a fool of herself by jumping into his arms.
“Wait. One more song.” He tugged her back as the band launched into a popular country rock duet with the male and female lead singers.
He released her to let her spin under his upheld arm, and then pulled her back, laughing, as they moved together two-stepping to the country beat. She couldn’t ignore his deep midnight blue eyes as he moved with her, and she reveled in the oh-so-familiar strength of his arms under her hands. She sensed the collective gaze of the crowd on them as the song ended and she remained in his arms, leaning back and looking up at him as his hands ran up her bare arms, setting her skin on fire.
Jack startled, sensing someone next to them. Suzanne stood there, a hand on his arm.
“Next dance for me?”
“Uh, sure.” He forced himself to take his eyes off Sara. “Hey, short stuff, you look fucking hot. Why don’t you wear that to work? I’d be by more often.” He took a deep breath and re-focused as he watched Blake lead Sara toward the bar.
He mentally pictured the space upstairs where he’d take Sara later, to prove to her that he did love and he did deserve her trust. He smiled at Suzanne, held her close as they danced to a slow song, giving her a squeeze at the end. Jason waved frantically from across the room so he made his way over, counting minutes now that it approached eleven. He had to get her upstairs, soon, or he could possibly implode.
“Jack, the caterer’s almost out of food. Do you want them to get more?”
He frowned at his watch. “No. Let’s wind it down.”
It was Jason’s turn to frown. “Really? It’s only ten forty-five.” Jack ground his teeth.
“I know but I need this thing to end on time. I gotta get on with… oh hell, you handle it. If you and the party girl think we need more food, you make the call. Consider yourself empowered.” Jason lifted an eyebrow at him. Jack sighed. “Sorry. I’m just preoccupied. I’m gonna get some air.” He shouldered past the blonde woman poised to grab his arm and made it outside, taking huge gulps of the cold Michigan night.
Keeping his hands propped on his knees he let the air calm his nerves. He knew upping the ante for Sara that night meant taking a lot of energy from him. But he wanted it and figured it was likely his last chance. He needed to make it meaningful. Needed to make the sort of statement so it would be clear how much she meant to him.
“Jack?” Yet another party guest needing something. He groaned, and went back into the steadily overheating room filled with people dancing, drinking, flirting, and if he were not mistaken, making out in the corners. He grinned.
Time to get on with the real party.
Chapter Seventeen
Blake leaned back on the bar engrossed in conversation with Rob. Sara sighed and moved away, giving them a little privacy. The sensations from her body kept sending her distinct messages, ones she found harder and harder to ignore. She saw Jack re-enter the room and get waylaid by some other female who dragged him back out onto the dance floor.
“You’re a grown woman, Sara, you can make your own decisions. Please know I’m here if you need me.” Blake’s voice surprised her.
“I know. I love you.” She leaned on his shoulder.
The band gave its best Red Hot Chili Peppers imitation as “Give It Away” blasted out next. She grabbed her brother’s hand and led him to the dance floor unable to resist, needing to dance to release some tension.
“Now for one more slow tune, before a break,” the lead singer finally announced. Sara turned to leave the floor, but Adam found her and pulled her back. He had just started to speak when Jack put his hand on his shoulder.
“Do you mind? This is our song,” he said, pulling the other man off her with little effort.
She put her arms around Jack’s neck and took a deep breath. He pulled her close. The hand on her back heated her skin. He leaned into her neck, as she closed her eyes and moved to the music with him. His lips hovered around her ear, but never made contact. They didn’t speak, but she could feel him, his lean strength painfully familiar. Her body began to slowly but surely betray her resolve.
She made an effort to get her breathing under control when she caught herself arching into him, wishing he would pick her up and take her away from here, right now. Tears threatened behind her eyes as the song ended and she broke away.
“Thanks, Jack, nice rescue,” she said, indicating Adam with a jerk of her chin, before making her way to the bar, Jack on her heels She leaned forward on her elbows. He lingered in her space, leaning backwards facing out over the crowd.
Sara let the scents and sounds of the party wash over her. It was nearly eleven now, and still packed. People moved to and fro, coming together for conversations and even a little making out in dark corners. Ceiling fans circulated the air, blowing the wisps of her hair around her neck.
The sudden sensation of his lips on her bare shoulder, tongue lingering on her skin made her close her eyes.
“Stop it,” she said, but the weakness in her voice betrayed her words.
She sensed the party’s pulse, as the crowd moved about her, some dancing to the canned music, laughing, drinking, talking, and yet she felt as if she and Jack were in a weird bubble somehow removed from it all.
“Stop what?” he asked, as he moved slightly closer to her.
She pulled her arm out of his range.
“It’s a great party,” she told him. “No detail left undone.”
He shifted so that he leaned on one arm facing her, his breath on her neck, his torso so near she could feel the heat from his skin.
“Well, most of it you planned with me, remember? We’re an amazing team, Sara,” he whispered. “Can’t you see that?”
She turned to him, noting the scary proximity of his lips to hers.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered back. Her nerves jangled then went silent, succumbing to his calm, letting him soothe in ways she still didn’t understand.
“Us, Sara,” he insisted. “You and me, together. You heard Greg. We are the future of this company, this industry. We know how to own this business and can only be better at it together.”
He leaned in to brush his lips against her ear and she had to clench her fists to resist reaching out for him.
“The way you work a room, it’s like I’m watching myself, you know? I love that about you.”
She pushed herself up off the bar, angry with him, with herself, with her own weak-kneed response to him. A tiny voice reminded her that she was as turned on as she’d been in weeks. She was moving toward him, and dancing away, knowing exactly how the night would end.
They stayed frozen in place, Jack ignoring all the loud requests for his presence on the dance floor. He kept staring at her, hands in pockets, eyes blazing with something she didn’t recognize. She could already feel his hands and mouth on her skin, although he was just standing there, not touching her.
She heard his deep voice, telling her what to do, how to feel, to give in and trust him. She stumbled as a sudden claustrophobia enveloped her like a blanket. She stepped away
from him and then panicked when he gripped her bicep.
“We could really be great together,” he repeated. “I wish I had figured it out sooner and had never let you walk out of my house that day.”
“Let go of me. I’m going home.”
He tightened his grip instead, slowly pulling her back, using his other hand to circle her waist. “I have something for you, upstairs.” She shivered again, already agreeing in her head as her lips formed the words.
“I should go.”
“No, you shouldn’t.” His breath heated her skin. “The penthouse condo, Sara. Meet me there in thirty minutes.”
He released her and walked away, making her stumble again, not realizing she’d been leaning into him. She bit her lip. What an egomaniacal asshole.
But she already knew she’d go.
Just once more, New Sara justified to her. One more time in the sheets with him. Then you leave. Forever.
Jack took a breath, picking up a conversational thread with the city council twerps but keeping a close eye on Sara. Bound and determined to make up for years of bullshit, dissembling, and compartmentalizing, he’d been completely serious when he told her he wanted her as a partner, in all aspects of his life.
The sight of her fucking around with that damn kid for the past few months had driven him around the bend. She was his, god damn it. He just needed to prove it to her. He had so much more to offer but wanted—needed—her alongside him, irritating control-freak that she was. He smiled to himself, knowing he could pull this off, especially since his competition had seemingly taken a powder tonight.
A calm settled over his brain. The relief at finally knowing the moment was near, all the planning done, gave him a different kind of a buzz. He shifted, buttoned his coat over his zipper. It would be tough, but he’d prove it once and for all, to her and likely to himself. They were meant to be together.
He smiled, grabbed more water and worked through the crowd. He only had a few minutes to disentangle himself from this thing. Giving Jason a high sign, he made his way around the room, shaking hands, hugging women, his mind clear, his body revving into high gear. He watched her hit the up button on the elevator, and caught her eye as she looked over her shoulder. He took the steps three at a time to beat her there.
