by Harlow James
Jess’s eyes bounce back and forth between mine as a smile slowly builds on her face, her red lips taunting me and her scent drawing me closer to her without even realizing it. “Sounds like a chance worth taking.”
Chapter 8
Jess
“Sounds like a chance worth taking.” The words leave my mouth just as I finally accept them.
When Brooks cornered me outside of the bathroom and told me he came to the speed dating event for me, I was so damn surprised that it took me a minute to process what he said. It was like hearing that he wanted me too was the push I needed to grant myself permission to give into the attraction I feel towards him. Even though my dreaded curse is in the back of my mind, men like Brooks Bennet don’t come around every day, and the realization that other women might think the same throughout the evening made me even more convinced I needed to see what was between us and not let my fear win.
“Then let’s get to it. I wanna know who Jessalyn Harris is.”
“I assure you, she’s probably not as interesting as you might think.” I shrug and then take a sip of my drink again, virtually draining it.
“No. I disagree,” he counters. “Any woman who eats orange flavored Tic Tacs has to be interesting.” I want to reach across the table and wipe that sexy smirk off his face, then pour an entire container in my mouth to make a statement.
“Don’t make me eat them in front of you,” I say with a lift of my brow.
His laugh hits my ears again and sends goosebumps running wildly over my skin. “Point made. So tell me this then… what made you go into nursing?”
That’s a fair question since our professions are something we share in common. “Good question. Well, actually, I didn’t realize I wanted to do anything in the medical field until I was a sophomore in high school. That summer, I ran onto the scene of a car crash and comforted a little boy and his mom whose SUV had flipped through the air and landed on its roof. I didn’t do anything medically, but one of the paramedics on scene commended me for acting on instinct and told me I would be an asset in the field. It kind of just stuck with me, and that’s when I decided I knew I wanted to help save lives somehow.” And if it weren’t for a promise I made to my mother, I wouldn’t have followed through on that choice.
“So why a nurse and not an EMT?”
“Once I started doing my research, I knew I would have more stability as a nurse. And I wasn’t so sure I wanted to be the first on scene to an emergency. But I like being in the ER, intercepting the patients and helping keep them stable and feel safe.”
I assess the smile on Brooks’ face and decide that he appreciates that answer. “I can tell how much you love your job. The way you move, anticipate what’s coming, and calm patients is a gift. Nursing was definitely your calling, Jessalyn.” Hearing him call me by my full name does something to me—like ruins me for all other men.
“Okay, so what about you? I’ve already given you crap about not choosing neurology or cardiology, even though I feel your ego is far more suited for those specialties,” I say jokingly. “But why the medical field in general?”
He brushes a hand through his already tousled hair, loosening up the gelled style he had perfected earlier. “Well, I grew up playing football, like I said before.” I nod. “I knew I didn’t want to play professionally or anything, but sports medicine always fascinated me because I knew there was so much more that went on behind the scenes to make the athletes winners on the field. When I got accepted to UC, Santa Barbara, I thought for sure that’s what I wanted to do. But as I started shadowing and doing internships in the hospitals, the thrill of the ER just kind of called to me. It gave me that same adrenaline rush I got when I took the field in a football game. It’s a mixture of not knowing what’s going to happen, but also having a playbook you can always rely back on, if that makes sense?” I marvel at Brooks’ analogy, because yes, it actually does make sense.
“So you’re an adrenaline junkie?”
“I guess you could say that,” he says, grinning around the rim of his glass.
“Have you done anything else that gives you that rush? Like skydiving? Bungee jumping? Swimming with sharks?”
Brooks looks around the bar, searching for something, but then focuses back on me with wide, excited eyes. “Wanna get out of here and go jump out of a plane, Jess? Because now that you said that, I’m getting the itch.”
“You’ve jumped out of a plane before?” My nerves run haywire at the thought that he might ask me to do that with him.
He nods slowly. “Yup. Four times. But I’d do lucky number five with you, if you want.” He grants me that blinding smile again, which almost makes me want to jump out of a plane with him. Almost.
“Nope, I’m good. I will keep my feet planted firmly on the ground, thank you very much.”
“Are you afraid of heights or something?”
I grimace, contemplating my answer. “It’s not that I’m necessarily afraid of heights. It’s more like I’m afraid of the feeling of falling and not stopping before I hit the ground.”
Brooks’ face lights up at my confession. “Aw, but Jess—that’s the best part. The leap of faith you take when you jump, the feeling of the wind hitting your entire body, that pressure but also the feeling of weightlessness. It’s the most free and alive you’ll ever feel.” The smooth lilt of his words when he describes it actually makes it sound like one of the most exhilarating moments you can have in your life.
“I feel like I’d need someone to push me. I’m not saying I’d never do it, but having someone there with me would definitely make it easier.”
“I think any fear in life is easier to face with someone by your side that you know won’t let you fall.” Damn, could he be any more dreamy? Why do I suddenly want to careen towards the earth while holding this man’s hand?
“So any other fears then, besides heights?”
A waitress comes by and places another round of drinks in front of us, making me question whether we actually ordered another round when I wasn’t paying attention to anything besides the curl of Brooks’ lips.
“I signaled over there when you were looking the other way. Don’t worry. You didn’t miss an entire conversation,” he teases, sensing my confusion apparently.
I laugh. “Thanks. For a moment there, I questioned whether I had zoned out completely for a while.”
“Okay,” he starts again. “Biggest fear…”
I shake my head, baffled that this man is getting me to open up to him so easily. “You’re probably going to laugh at me. But—I am deathly afraid of the ocean.”
Brooks seems taken aback by my answer. “Really? Did something happen, or do you just hate that it’s so big and you can’t see the bottom?” He mocks, but then his face falls flat as I’m sure mine turns white.
I nod once and then take a deep breath, preparing myself to retell the story that gave me nightmares as a child for years. “My parents used to take us to the coast every summer. We would rent a house on the beach and stay for almost a week. My little sister and I loved it. We played in the sand, practically lived in our swimsuits, and loved picking up seashells that would wash up on the shore.” I pause to take a drink and then continue. “But one day, I got brave. I was nine, my sister was seven, and I wanted to swim out further in the water and ride the waves back in on my boogie board. You don’t realize how strong the current is until you get pulled under. I remember the moment before I blacked out, thinking this was how I was going to die. I was young, but I knew I couldn’t breathe anymore…”
“Wow, Jess. I’m sorry. Obviously, you’re still alive, but—”
“I was traumatized. A lifeguard saved me, gave me mouth-to-mouth for over ten minutes before I finally started breathing again. My parents were a mess, my sister was terrified, and it was the last summer we ever went to the beach. I’ve been back since, but I never go in the water. I love the setting though—the sound of the waves crashing, the saltiness of the air, the warm sand
beneath my toes. But I always stay clear of the ocean.” Those summers are some of my favorite memories growing up, the visions of my mother being so vibrant during those trips makes me start to get emotional.
Brooks leans back in his seat, his eyes wide as he takes in my story. “Jesus, Jess. I never would have known. You’re always so strong, so self-assured.”
“I’m human like everyone else, Brooks. I’m strong when I need to be, but I still have fears.” Reaching for my drink, I drain the last few drops and then slide my fresh one over, calming myself in the process so I don’t break down in front of this man on our first date. “What about you? What’s your biggest fear?”
He stares at me intently before swallowing hard and then finally answering. “Ending up alone.”
“Wow. You don’t hear many men admit to that,” I chuckle. “Is that why you’re pursuing me? So you don’t die a cranky old man, Brooks?” I’m trying to be playful, but the intense look he’s giving me from his seat is making me start to sweat. Damn. Did I say something to offend him? Do men get sensitive when you talk about them aging? Is this a rule I just broke?
“I will not be cranky, and I’m sure as hell not that old, sweetheart. And even when I am, you’d have to do a hell of a lot to get me to stop going after you.”
Brooks signals for the waitress, but never breaks eye contact with me. He hands her his card from his wallet before she walks away, his eyes still trained on my face. “I don’t want you to be afraid of this attraction between us, Jess. It should fuel that fire in you, not smother it. That sassy woman I met at Skye’s—that’s the real you. Don’t hide her. Let me see the raw need you have for me, and I’ll do the same. We’re both adults. There’s no need to play games here. So yes, I will continue to go after you because the way you look at me is only a fraction of the way I look at you, or at least a fraction of what I let you see. You, Jessalyn Harris, are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met. And when I drive you home and walk you to your door tonight, I’m going to kiss the shit out of you.”
Suddenly the room is a thousand degrees and my throat is as dry as the Sahara. Dear Lord—please help me. Because if this is how Brooks is before we’ve even kissed, I can only imagine how he’s going to unravel me further down the road.
The waitress returns, Brooks signs the receipt and then stands, holding his hand out to help me from my side of the table. As I place my fingers delicately in his, he squeezes my hand in reassurance, and then leads me out of Tony’s with his palm on the small of my back, staking his claim of me to everyone in the bar.
He helps me into his car again and then I direct him to my apartment. The entire drive there my body is humming, nerves firing rapidly at the anticipation of the kiss he promised me just moments before. God, I want his kiss, the lure of that promise hanging loudly in the car, even though we remain silent during the drive.
If you had asked me four hours ago if I thought my night would end up like this, I’d thought you were insane. But as Brooks follows me up the stairs to my front door, the heat coming off of his body coating mine in a warmth from behind, I revel in the fact that tonight I ended up exactly with the person I wanted to in the first place. I went there trying to avoid my feelings for him, but apparently our mutual attraction was just too strong for even the universe to ignore.
I slide my key into the lock and then turn the knob, opening the door first so I don’t have to fiddle with it later—because I’m pretty sure after Brooks kisses me, my entire body is going to be shaking.
“Well, tonight turned out differently than I imagined,” I say once I turn around to face him again. His eyes burrow into mine as he stands there, towering over me in the soft glow of my porch light.
“Funny. It turned out exactly how I imagined.”
“Is that so?”
He nods, moving closer to me, wrapping his hands around my waist, and pulling me into his chest. The difference in our height is so monumental, his presence consuming me in a way I’ve never felt. Brooks Bennet is all man—tall, broad, sculpted, and sweet, with a hint of commanding alpha that I can’t help but find even more alluring. The way he makes me feel is so different from what I’ve felt with other men that it’s overwhelming and makes me forget how to form words.
“Jess,” he starts, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and almost revealing a hint of pain in them. “I have a lot going on in my life right now, but I knew that if I didn’t pursue you tonight, I would have regretted it. My goal tonight was to be honest with you about how much I want to get to know you. I know it’s complicated with our work situation, but I think the connection between us is worth developing. And I’d really like to take you out again soon.”
My lips stretch open as the thought of Brooks and I spending more time together becomes a reality. “I’d like that too.”
“And no more hiding from me, okay? You don’t need to be scared of me, or what this is,” he says, gesturing with his hand back and forth between us. “This is real. And I know that because it’s something I haven’t felt in a long time.”
My hands travel up around his neck and my fingers drag through the hair right at his nape, my mind trying to process that I’m actually touching this man I’ve been admiring from afar for weeks. I stare intently into the soft brown eyes looking back at me, waiting for him to disappear—for the entire evening to evaporate in front of me.
But Brooks is right. This is real. And it’s terrifying. But aren’t most things that are worth the risk?
Before I can respond, Brooks’ mouth descends on mine and the press of his lips against my lips shatters that last bit of reservation on my part. Because this kiss—this kiss is weeks of fantasies coming true, electricity burning between two people in the most magnetic of ways, an orange flame turning to the hottest blue in an instant.
Brooks’ powerful hands grip me tighter and pull me closer as we melt into one another, the low hum of his approval resonating in his throat and vibrating against my lips. And then with one swipe of his tongue, I open up to him and the sensation of tasting him drags me further under the wave of pleasure washing over me. Beer and a hint of cinnamon on his tongue from that godforsaken gum that he chews hit my taste buds and send me into a frenzy of sensations.
Brooks tangles his tongue with mine and now I know—I don’t want him to be another victim of my curse. I want him for myself. Because if this is how this man kisses, I can only imagine what other skills he has.
And not only is he awakening every nerve on my body by touching me and kissing me like I never have been kissed before, but he showed me tonight with no bullshit that I’m who he wants—and that was refreshing and sexy as hell.
Suddenly my back is up against the wall outside my door and his hands have travelled south, palming my ass in my sleek black dress, gripping my flesh while he continues to assault my mouth. And I reciprocate, squeezing my arms around his neck, fisting my fingers in his hair, and diving my tongue into his mouth, kissing the shit out of him in reciprocation.
Our lips and tongues continue to slide across each other’s while our moans drift off into the night, accompanying the sounds of cars passing nearby on the road and the crickets chirping in the bushes.
But then Brooks steps back, breaking our kiss, and I’m almost afraid to open my eyes. When I do, that blinding smile greets me as his hand brushes my hair from my face. “Damn.”
I can’t help it. I giggle and bury my face in his chest while he wraps his arms around me, caging me in. “Um, yeah. You definitely delivered on your promise.”
“To kiss the shit out of you?” I nod against his chest. “Good.”
When I stand tall again, he leans down once more, softly pressing his lips to mine before stepping back a few inches. “I’d better let you go, otherwise I’m afraid I might not leave.”
“Then I’ll see you at work?”
“Yeah. Um, let me get your number though, please? So I can call you. Or text. I can’t wait to do this again soon.”
/>
I grin and then fish my phone from my purse as we exchange numbers.
“Goodnight, Jess,” he says, kissing my lips once more before turning around, descending the stairs, and jumping back into his car. Once I watch him drive off, I slip inside my apartment and lean up against the door, desperately trying to catch my breath.
Brooks Bennet wants me. Brooks Bennet kissed me.
And now all I want is for the universe to let me keep him.
Chapter 9
Brooks
The exhilaration from my night with Jess is quickly diminished that following Monday as I accompany my mother to her next chemo appointment. The shift in emotions I feel between the high from kissing Jess and then the low of watching my mom being pumped full of medication to kill the cancer in her body makes my head spin.
“So tell me about Saturday. I need you to distract me.” My mother rests her head on the back of her chair, pulling her blanket up higher on her body. The drugs have made her cold all the time, even though the weather is warming up outside.
Wanting to make her happy and comfortable, I oblige her request, even though a flurry of anger rolls through me at her circumstances. “Well, I accomplished what I set out to do.”
“You got the girl?” She smiles.
“Yeah. I told her that I liked her, took her away from the event, and then kissed her.” Most men wouldn’t tell their mom such details, but she and I have always been close. Of course, I only gave her the PG version. She doesn’t need to know that kissing Jess made me rock hard and that it what the best kiss I’ve had in my life.
“That’s my boy. So what happens now?” She closes her eyes and winces as the medicine pumps through her veins. My hand finds hers and I squeeze her fingers in reassurance, running my thumb over the butterfly tattoo on her wrist. There are two things my mother loves in this world more than me—her plants and butterflies. And lucky for her, one seems to attract the other. There’s nothing more beautiful than my mother’s face when one of those small white butterflies floats through the air around her, the same kind she had inked on her skin many years ago.
