Something About You (Something Borrowed Series Book 2)

by Louisa George

  Now everything was complicated. She’d pretty much saved his life, saved his faith in the human race, and now given him the best sex he’d ever had. He liked having her around. He wanted to have her around a whole lot longer. But what would that mean? What if it ended?

  What if it didn’t?

  He shifted across the bed, knocking his elbow on the bedside table. Then he remembered. ‘So what’s with the lifetime supply of condoms? You win a raffle or something?’

  Hiding under the covers, she said, ‘You do not want to know. I think it was the most embarrassing day of my whole life.’

  ‘Now I really do want to know.’ He pulled the covers back and kissed her, because he couldn’t not. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘This isn’t the time—’

  ‘Come one now, Jenna. Friends don’t have secrets. Friends can tell friends anything, any time… so you keep saying.’ He pulled open the drawer and pulled out far more condoms than he’d used in his entire life and a variety of slip’n’slides. He held two towards her.

  She shrugged and gave him a teasing smile. ‘So, I’ve got a large number of sexy supplies. I’m not saying a word. I’d rather do a show and tell than relive that shopping hell. We’ve a lot to get through.’

  She reached under the covers and stroked up his thigh, made a pretty decent search and seek of his man parts, and God, the woman knew how to turn him on. But there was a story here. She was burning with embarrassment, but she was also laughing. The sparkle in her eyes made the green intense, like dew-kissed grass. More damned poetry, he’d be writing a book soon enough. ‘Come on, Jenna, I want you to tell me.’

  ‘I’d rather die.’ She twisted, sat up and straddled him, her breasts brushing against his face as she leaned forward. ‘Show and tell.’

  ‘No using the supplies until you’ve told me the story.’ He held her by the arms, and it took every single thread of self-control not to sit up and take one of those ripe, pink nipples into his mouth.

  She taunted him with it, brushing the tip over his lips.

  He kept his mouth firmly closed.

  She leant even closer and pressed her lips against his.

  He kept his mouth firmly closed.

  ‘Oh! Okay then.’ She burst out laughing and spilled a story about a chemist shop and a woman named Anthea and preferring to buy the lot than have an actual conversation. Knowing Jenna, she had died a thousand deaths.

  ‘You are damned good value, Jenna Cassidy-Pearce.’ He was shocked by the sharp ache in his chest as he looked at her. The emotions she instilled in him. He imagined being here every night, laughing and making love, and he couldn’t think of anything more damned perfect. He pulled her towards him, relishing the press of her breasts against his chest, the curl of her hair across his face, the luscious flowery smell that had him hard whenever he smelt it. ‘So, how do you like it, Jenna?’

  He expected her to laugh like he did, but she stilled. She ran her hand across his face, over the stubble that had grazed her chin, and then over his top lip. ‘I like it with you, Chief Inspector Welsh.’

  ‘I’m nowhere near a chief inspector, but I like it with you, Mrs Cassidy-Pearce. Very much.’

  The kiss she gave him then was different somehow. More intense, more imbued with meaning. This time she showed him and she told him exactly what she wanted. And he obliged.

  *

  Once he’d managed to haul air back into his lungs, he untangled himself from the sheet and her legs. ‘That should be the second entry into the Guinness Book of Records. We keep this up and we’ll have a whole section to ourselves.’ Every time was sensational. Every kiss better than the last. Every touch, every embrace, something off-the-scale special.

  He had known it was going to be momentous, but not that he’d feel so affected by her. By this. By the tumbling, warring emotions inside of him. Happy but wary. Sated but wanting more. Desire but an overwhelming need to protect her.

  From him, if he was honest. He tried not to dwell on that.

  He took hold of her hand and kissed her fingers, one knuckle at a time. He paused when he reached her ring finger. The gold band she’d always worn had gone, and all that was there was a white line. ‘You took it off? I hadn’t realised.’

  His gut kicked. This was a big deal.

  ‘It was time, you know.’ Her eyes flicked to a box on her bedside table. A little turquoise box just like the one he’d bought for Helen. Shit. It was a very big deal. She’d waited years to take her wedding ring off, and she’d done it just before he’d taken her on their non-date. She’d chosen him out of all the men in the world—three and a half billion males—to take a chance on. To move on with. Him.

  He didn’t know how he felt about that. It was a huge responsibility to bear. To live up to. He didn’t know if he could. He’d left the chaos of Iraq to find peace. Slow. Uncomplicated. Calm. That was what he’d craved, and instead he was with a live-wire firecracker who wouldn’t know slow if it whacked her in the head.

  Trouble was, he liked her. A lot. So much he suspected she had a lot to do with that ache in his chest. He hadn’t known how hard he could fall and how quickly. How dizzyingly out of control his emotions could get over a woman. And her little kid. Over the idea of family.

  Jenna sat up suddenly, her hair matted and wiry and crazy, her eyes a little wild, breasts spilling over the top of the sheet. ‘Shit. Shit. Rings. I never even thought about rings. That’s the guy’s responsibility, right? Or something. The couple at least. We never have anything to do with that usually. What the hell? I need to find two rings that fit. How will I know his size? Her size? Oh, God. It’s all going to be a complete disaster.’

  The wedding. They were back to that. Ah, yes. He wasn’t going to agree, but yes, it probably was going to flop, but not for the want of Jenna’s efforts. She’d put heart and soul into it, as she did everything in her life. But because, in his experience, people did like to keep control over the most important things in their lives. ‘You know what? Rings are something they’re going to wear for the rest of their lives. How about you just get two cheap and cheerful standin rings as symbols of their marriage and let them choose their own later?’

  ‘I knew there was a reason I liked you. Great idea.’ She kissed him hard on the lips. He didn’t want to think about wedding rings or anything else. Just her. Here. Now. ‘Shoot. Where would I get standin rings?’

  ‘I don’t know. Let’s talk about it later.’

  ‘Any ideas?’

  ‘I’ll sort it.’ He couldn’t think straight with that creamy skin on display. It was as if she’d given him a super-sized dose of Viagra. He ran his fingers down her spine. ‘Later.’

  She turned around to look at him. Grinning. ‘You will? Really? Oh, that’s brilliant.’

  And he couldn’t refuse her, not with that smile and those pleading eyes. ‘Yes. Later. Right now, I’m thinking about going for third time lucky for the record book.’

  Her forehead creased a little. She was in full-on planning mode. ‘And would you be able to make sure he gets to the yoga studio? I asked his sous chef to bring him, but I’m not sure how reliable he is. I thought, maybe you could turn up at the restaurant in your uniform on the pretext of something. Ask him to accompany you to the station.’

  ‘For what exactly?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’m sure you can use your imagination.’ She tapped his temple. ‘Poirot.’

  He grabbed her and pulled her onto him. ‘My imagination is already full of other things, Jenna. Things I want to do to you.’

  ‘After you’ve done them, could you please give Vaughn and his transport to his wedding some thought?’

  Hot damn. He was all for a problem shared, but he wasn’t sure this wedding was the greatest idea she’d ever had. He didn’t want to break her heart, so he didn’t agree or disagree. ‘Couldn’t you ask someone else?’

  ‘On the groom’s side, I only know Chloe and you. Oh, and Jason. He’s Vaughn’s cousin and he was going to marry C
hloe, until he jilted her at the altar. I can’t ask Jason to take Vaughn to marry Chloe, now can I? You’re my only option.’

  He hadn’t a clue what she was saying. ‘It is far too complicated for a mere mortal to understand.’

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Still grinning. ‘Bring Vaughn to the wedding. Think of a good excuse. Please.’

  ‘The only thing I want to think about is how damned sexy you are.’

  She thought for a minute. Clearly she did have blood reaching her brain, unlike him. All his had gone south. ‘Can’t you say you want to catch up about Tyler? Or just for some yoga to stretch out the hamstrings after all that football you play together? I don’t know. You manage to find enough excuses to come round to see me.’

  ‘Yes, well, I don’t want to keep on kissing him.’

  She put her hand to her heart. ‘Thank the Lord for that. Chloe would be cross.’

  ‘And you wouldn’t?’

  ‘Not if you brought Vaughn to his wedding.’

  He had no reserves left to deny her. ‘Okay. Yep. I’ll work something out.’

  ‘You are the best man.’ She wrapped her arms round his neck and kissed him. ‘Metaphorically speaking. Hmmmm… now should I ask…? No, let’s just have the two of them, and Evie as flower girl. Simple.’

  ‘Simple? I’m having a very hard time keeping up.’

  ‘You managed all right the last two times.’ Now she gave him a dirty smile that was definitely all about sex, then ran her fingers through that mane of flame-red hair, fluffing it out so it fell over his face. ‘Let’s go for the hat trick.’

  How the hell could he resist an offer like that?

  But there was one thought that flitted through his brain and out again right before he kissed her some more; he was getting pulled further and further into her world. But he didn’t know if he was man enough to stay there.

  Chapter 15

  ‘I have only one more day to get this all sorted. There’s so much to think about, it’s doing my head in. Having you here isn’t helping with my concentration either.’ Jenna pulled a fraction of an inch away from Nick and his magnificent mouth. Her bottom was in its designated place on his lap and he was kissing her senseless. Again. Her head was racing about the plans for the wedding, and whether Chloe would indeed divorce her as a sister. But somehow having Nick here grounded her enough to put the worry on the back burner, at least for another few minutes. ‘But feel free to carry on.’

  ‘No, missy. I said I’d come help with the mix tape. So here I am. Music awaits.’ He gently eased her off his knee and stood up. ‘Let’s see just what your friends and family like to listen to.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Thinking about the tracks her friends had sent, she wasn’t at all sure she could use any of them for a wedding. ‘About that. Very eclectic tastes all round.’

  She opened the laptop, showed him the spreadsheet she’d made, and he grimaced. ‘Really? They do know this is a wedding not a school disco night, don’t they?’

  ‘Ah, that’s Faith. Saturday Night is an old favourite. We had a routine and everything. And she just loved I’m Too Sexy.’

  ‘She’s the angry pixie, right?’ At her nod, he shook his head. ‘Do not allow her to do any kind of routine at the wedding.’

  Jenna laughed. ‘You won’t know what you’re missing.’

  ‘Barbie Girl?’

  ‘Saskia. That was a surprise, because she’s usually very zen.’

  Two weeks and he’d been nothing but amazing, and present as much as their jobs and routines allowed. Snatched kisses in the alleyway behind the shop. Extra early morning runs without Chloe, which were really runs to his apartment. Enough time to play then back home and off to work.

  He’d been the calming voice of reason to her jittery nerves about the wedding. He’d sat down and listened to her frustrations over the fact she was the florist and Chloe the wedding planner and for good reason; she wasn’t cut out to do this. It was like being on an out-of-control rollercoaster. It was a mistake. It was going to fail.

  He’d held her hand when she’d all but begged the celebrant to agree to performing the ceremony. And kissed her hard when she’d got the yes.

  Of course, they’d downplayed the whole thing to anyone who cared to notice. Chloe. Her mother. But here he was on their precious Thursday evening.

  Their.

  It felt illicit. It felt dangerous and yet completely bloody wonderful. It felt good. That whole walking on cloud nine thing? Definitely real, if the bounce in her step and the lift in her heart was anything to go by. And every time she had to leave him, it took courage anew. And every time he left her she felt bereft.

  She was going crazy.

  ‘Whitney?’ This time he smiled. He tapped on the laptop, opened a file, did some techno wizardry and Whitney’s voice filled the air. ‘Now you’re talking.’

  ‘I thought you said it was the other guy who loved her?’

  He took her hand and swirled her around. ‘Yes, it was. But she grows on you. Come here.’ He twirled her out and then back to him, crushing her against his body. ‘You make me so hard.’

  Jenna laughed and wriggled against him. ‘I can tell. But Evie’s asleep. We can’t…’

  ‘Then just dance with me.’ He held her hands in both of his and started to move slowly around the room.

  She rocked with him, her head against his chest, and all anxieties about the wedding evaporated. It would be fine. She would be fine. This would be fine.

  ‘Hey.’ He tilted her chin up and kissed her softly. When he pulled away, she could read the fierce emotion in his eyes. The need. The hunger. All for her. Whether he wanted to admit it to himself or not, things were moving faster than they’d imagined; not that they’d discussed the next steps as yet. ‘I like the way you move, Mrs Cassidy-Pearce.’

  ‘I like your moves too.’

  ‘I’ve changed my mind. Maybe you should do that routine at the wedding.’

  ‘We could do a Grease thing; men on one side, women on the other. You, Vaughn, Tyler…’ Something clicked into place in her memory banks. ‘Oh, I forgot to say, Chloe talked to Tyler about the burglar. He’s some guy called Frankie. I don’t know the last name, but you must be able to find him. Surely?’

  His arm tightened around her waist. ‘Work talk when I have a stunning woman in my arms?’

  ‘A stunning woman who wants the thief who broke in to her shop caught.’

  ‘We’ll get him. Don’t worry. We’re closing in. It’s only a matter of time. He’s going to make a mistake. He’s getting just a little too sloppy.’

  ‘Be careful though.’ Would she ever stop worrying? About everyone? About him specifically. He had the most dangerous job, and she panicked every time he was on duty. ‘There are some crazies out there. You could get hurt.’ She ran her palm over his heart. ‘Police officers die. It happens.’

  He pulled her as close as she’d ever been to him. Closer. His mouth was next to hers. ‘I won’t die, Jenna. Not for a very long time.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’ I don’t want to lose you. Not now she’d found this. Losing Ollie had almost killed her, and she’d only just managed to piece her heart back together. She couldn’t face the thought of losing Nick too.

  But lightning didn’t strike twice, did it? She couldn’t be that unlucky.

  ‘Listen, I’m trained to assess risk. Always. Risk is forefront of my mind.’ He traced his fingers over her lips then slid his mouth over hers, kissing all doubt and panic and worry away.

  Almost.

  ‘Mamma? Nick! Hello, Nick!’

  Caught in the act. Jenna had been so careful not to let Nick take up place in Evie’s heart. After their couple of meetings, she’d chosen not to have him around Evie—not wanting her daughter to fall for him as hard as she was falling herself. Just in case… because bad things happened. She knew they did; she’d lived them. She jumped away. ‘Hey. You’re supposed to be asleep, poppet.’

  ‘Are you danc
ing?’ Evie was dressed in her Peppa Pig pyjamas and had her thumb hovering out of her mouth. She looked sleepy and oh so gorgeous.

  Jenna scolded herself silently. She should have been making sure they were quiet. Not making out like teenagers. ‘We were just having a little dance.’

  ‘Can I dance too?’

  Jenna glanced over to Nick and raised her eyebrows in question. He nodded and sat down on the sofa. ‘Of course. I’ll sit this one out.’

  ‘No. Dance with you, Nick.’

  His eyebrows rose further. He looked panicked, as he always seemed to when confronted by Evie. ‘I, er, how about your mamma dances with you?’

  Evie gave a dramatic sigh, she was three going on thirty. ‘Okay. Can I stand on your feet, Mamma?’

  ‘Of course.’ Jenna held out her hands for Evie to step into them. Her little bare feet stepped onto Jenna’s, as light as a feather. Jenna held her daughter’s arms as if they were at a formal ball, and they waltzed around the room, a three-three move to a very upbeat four-four “I Gotta Feeling.”

  As always, her darling girl threw her head back and giggled as Jenna danced her round and round, but when the music stopped, she hopped off and tugged at Nick’s sleeve. ‘Can you dance with me now?’

  ‘I don’t dance well, honey.’

  ‘You danced with Mamma.’

  ‘I… er, yes. I did.’ There was no getting out of this no matter how much he wanted to. And Jenna could see he wanted to. Was he holding back because he really didn’t like her daughter? Or was he protecting himself from liking her?

  She helped settle Evie onto his feet, and the instant she was on there and holding his hands, her daughter was transformed. He swirled and waltzed and pogoed and roboted them both around the room. Evie’s little cries of laughter filled the air. ‘More! More!’

  ‘Wow, you’re like the Energizer Bunny.’ He shook his head, but grinned. ‘You and your mum wear me out.’