She sighed into her flute and took another sip. The family she always longed to have was within reach again. Her life was finally coming together. She finished off her second glass, and her mind began to float, feeling as if she were swinging on a star. But, she wasn’t worried, because no matter what, she knew from now on that star would be a lucky one.
Chapter Seven
“I promise to shut up now,” Sabrina said, slapping a hand over her mouth. But she continued to talk through her palm anyway. “I’ve been saying way too much. That always happens when I drink champagne. And when I drink beer. Or vodka. And—”
“I get it,” Jack said, entertained. “Maybe you should have a little more to eat.”
She saluted. “Aye, aye.” Then as she lowered her hand, it landed in her cheesecake. “Uh-oh, cleanup in aisle three.”
He smothered a laugh as he tossed her his napkin. Sabrina was drunk. Well, not exactly drunk drunk, but she was well past her limit, which was obviously minuscule to begin with.
Not that it was his fault, Jack reminded himself again. She didn’t have to finish her glass every time he refilled it for her. And whose idea was it to get a second bottle anyway?
Okay, it was his fault. Sabrina was going to murder him—when she sobered up.
Too bad, because they were actually getting along for once. Now that she let her guard down, they even managed to have fun—something he hadn’t had with a woman outside the bedroom in a long time.
Jack gazed across the table at her. Sabrina seemed intent on playing with her dessert and hadn’t noticed him watching her. The night was chockfull of surprises. It wasn’t every woman who knew just as much about baseball as he did and even enjoyed discussing it. This was the most mellow he’d seen her. Usually she was all wrapped up in anxiety and spreadsheets, which was why he couldn’t resist egging her on whenever he had the chance. She made it almost too easy. And way too much fun.
There really was nothing sexier to him than a woman all riled up with anger. It was just another form of passion in his book. And Sabrina seemed to have more than an average share. Especially when she looked like she could melt an iceberg with the heat radiating from those baby-blue eyes of hers. The way her cheeks flamed pink and those soft, generous lips of hers pouted and got all—
Uh-oh. Where’d that thinking come from?
That kiss.
Mother of mercy, who knew she had such deadly precision with that mouth of hers? Something had ignited between them from the moment their lips had touched. He knew it was wrong, yet here he was wishing those lips were on his again. What an idiot he was. He couldn’t involve himself with her. Hell, she barely liked him. And she was engaged.
Sort of.
Jack continued to study her. There was something mesmerizing about the way the candlelight reflected in her dark hair—how it flowed just slightly past her shoulders and looked smooth and glossy, like rich melted chocolate. He was struck with an irresistible urge to reach out and feel it.
And that’s when he decided to call it a night.
“All right, let’s get you home,” he announced.
Sabrina didn’t lift her eyes from her dessert she was making fork tracks through. “What about the check?” she murmured.
“It’s already paid.”
She frowned. “But I told you I wanted to go Dutch.”
Jack sighed. Doesn’t this woman ever turn it off? Four sheets to the wind and she was worried about paying her share. “No, friends go Dutch. Fake girlfriends get their meals paid for by their fake boyfriends. Now let’s get out of here.”
Sabrina finally looked up with huge innocent eyes, the corners of her mouth sagging south. “Didn’t you like your dinner?”
“Of course I liked my dinner.”
“Then why are you so crabby?”
Because I can’t stop thinking about those mouth-watering lips of yours and the way they moved against mine. Happy? Although, if he confessed that little nugget of truth, he doubted she’d be happy at all. “Um, you didn’t offer me any of your cheesecake.”
She let out a beautiful laugh. “You had your own cheesecake.”
The way her smile burst through like sunshine had the direct opposite effect on his mood. “What can I say? I like to eat,” he said tightly. “Come on.”
“Is David still here?” she whispered.
“No, he left about twenty minutes ago.”
Her fork dropped with a clank. “What? Did he look forlornly over here before he left?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled. But the truth was David had stared at them all evening. Jack didn’t know why he didn’t feel like sharing that information with her. Maybe because he found David’s actions rude. If Jack were dating Sabrina for real, he would have gone over there and made it known to him.
“How could you not know?” she asked. “You’re supposed to be my eyes and hears.”
He rolled his eyes. “You mean eyes and ears.”
“Oh.” She thought about it and nodded. “Yes, that’s better.”
He had to smile. “I thought so.”
She glanced at her watch and her eyes widened. “I should have called my landlord. I didn’t think I’d be out this late.”
“Your landlord has you on a curfew?”
She shook her head, and it flopped back and forth like a rag doll. “She’s having her apartment painted, and I told her she could stay with me. She’s probably asleep by now anyway.”
“Well, aren’t you Miss Congenial?”
She stared at him with a confused look. “No, it’s Miss Cassidy,” she slurred.
He couldn’t help but chuckle. The woman was adorable—too adorable. “I need a cigarette,” he murmured.
Her little nose wrinkled. “Ugh. You smoke?”
“I used to. Gave it up a few years ago, but still get the urge when I’m stressed. Started smoking in college. Probably the least of my bad habits back then.”
“Why did you start?” Sabrina rested her chin in her hand and gazed at him, all dreamy and sincere—and intoxicated. His eyes drifted to her mouth for the second time. She was doing that sexy pout thing again.
Jack had to clear his throat. “I don’t know. Probably because it got me through my mom’s death a little.”
She gasped. “You were so young. How did she die?”
Jack frowned. Sabrina obviously didn’t realize he never talked about his mom with anyone. There were certain lines you did not cross with people unless invited. Ever. And she most certainly had not been issued an invitation. But as Jack continued to stare into her soft blue eyes, a small chip of his resolve was taken out.
“She committed suicide,” he finally answered.
“Oh, no,” she whispered in horror. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t have to tell me that. It was a long time ago. At least it wasn’t messy. She took some pills and never woke up.”
“It was a long time ago, but you still must carry a part of that with you. Something like that you can’t simply turn off.”
Her conviction made him think she spoke from experience. But he didn’t want to share any more of himself with her tonight. He preferred fun and detached—unemotional. He feverishly tried to brush off the way the warmth in her eyes was making him feel. “No, you can’t turn it off, but you can break the nozzle.”
The look on her face told him that line was an instant party killer. But he didn’t want to spend time pouring his heart and soul out to her. It left him too vulnerable. Something he hadn’t been since his mother died.
“Let’s go,” he said shortly and stood up.
Sabrina jumped up with him, but obviously too fast, because it sent her swaying into him. Jack automatically wrapped his arms around her and stood her up straight. “Easy does it,” he murmured. “Can you walk out of here?”
She nodded, then squeezing her eyes closed, shook her head.
“Okay, lean on me and we’ll be home before you know it.”
As they
walked through the dining room together, her arms hung around his waist and she pressed herself farther into his chest. Jack gritted his teeth. Great. Couldn’t she just be normal and not have to smell like some fancy vanilla dessert he could devour in one bite? What was he, made of wood? He cursed himself for that analogy, and, deciding he may have had too much to drink as well, called for a cab.
Jack led her to a plush sofa in the lobby and sat down next to her to wait for their ride. Then thinking better of it, he shifted over several inches. Then a few inches more.
Don’t touch her anymore, he advised himself. Your defenses are down, stupid. You had too much alcohol and are obviously not in your right mind.
All he needed to do was drop her off at her place, go back home, and sleep off any effect the alcohol may have had on him tonight. Tomorrow when he woke up, she’d go back to hating him and he’d go back to thinking of her as just a nice, sweet, high-strung girl. Everything would be normal again.
After all, Jack didn’t want her. He only wanted his rightful position in the company. Nothing else. Making a play for his fake girlfriend and business partner—who was practically engaged—wouldn’t help his chances any.
He kept his eyes focused straight ahead and continued his mental lecture as Sabrina wiggled closer. Then on a sigh, she wove her arm through his and laid her head on his shoulder.
Jack mouthed a low curse—and wished like hell he hadn’t quit smoking.
…
A high-pitched shriek had Sabrina’s skull splitting open like a coconut.
“That’s what you get for drinking on a weekday,” she muttered to herself.
Spread out on her bed, she attempted to roll over but could barely move because of the pounding pain in her head. Trying to reach for the snooze button, she realized with dismay that the sound she heard hadn’t come from her alarm clock.
Her head shot up when she heard another shout.
Grabbing the baseball bat hidden underneath her bed, she held her head and ran for the living room. Stopping short at the entrance of her kitchen, she saw Mrs. Metzger holding an empty glass in her hands and Jack brushing a huge red stain down the front of his white T-shirt.
“Jack!” Half out of breath, she turned to Mrs. Metzger. “What in the world’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Jack interrupted. “This woman threw tomato juice at me.”
Mrs. Metzger indignantly set a hand on her hip. “I could have done a lot worse. You scared the jimmies out of Theo and me.”
Sabrina glanced around and saw the cat nowhere in sight. Jack’s large frame, on the other hand, she’d have to be punched in both eyes to miss. No wonder Mrs. Metzger reacted the way she did. Taking up almost all the room in her tiny kitchen, Jack stood there tall and menacing with his shadowy beard and gruff expression. The look in his blue eyes practically screamed, I’m about to blow at any second. It almost made her take an involuntary step back.
However, on second glance, Jack’s disheveled hair combined with the tomato dripping from his chin and chest had her biting back a laugh despite her aching head.
His angry glare now aimed in her direction. “This isn’t funny.”
“You’re right,” she agreed, struggling for composure. “Having V-8 thrown in your face first thing in the morning isn’t the least bit funny.” She set down the bat on the counter and folded her arms at him. “But I’d like to know what you’re doing here.”
Jack took the stack of paper towels Mrs. Metzger handed him and began blotting his face. “You invited me to stay, but I can see I got more than I bargained for here.” He cast a meaningful glance at her landlord.
Sabrina’s mouth dropped open. “I did what?”
“Excuse me,” Mrs. Metzger broke in. She stopped wiping the floor and inspected Jack. She seemed to like what she saw. “Who are you, anyway?”
He held out his hand, suddenly all business. “Jack Brenner. I’m the new boyfriend.”
Oh, no. Sabrina gingerly held a hand over her eyes. The lies continue…
“Boyfriend?” Mrs. Metzger looked at Sabrina for confirmation, and she could only manage a slight shrug. “Oh, I’m very sorry,” she told him, shaking his hand. “I didn’t hear you two come in last night. Had I known Sabrina was going to bring home a…a guest, I wouldn’t have attacked you like I did.” She set down her mug and leaned slyly into Sabrina. “You did good,” she said with a wink. “I’ll go change now, but there’s more juice in the fridge.”
After Mrs. Metzger walked past them, Sabrina pinned a hard glare on Jack. “Why in the world would I ask you to stay?” she whispered heatedly.
“We both had too much to drink last night, so you told me to stay, and you’d drive me to pick up my car in the morning.”
“Oh.” She vaguely remembered that now, as she rubbed her forehead. It kind of made sense.
Without warning, Jack tore off his damp T-shirt in front of her, making her legs tremble a bit with anticipation of what might come off next. She stared at his bare chest, feeling even more off balance when his hands traveled to his bellybutton. Jack paused, then looked up at her with a hint of amusement. A rush of heat seized her cheeks, and her gaze shot to the wall behind him, then to the counter, then to the floor. She had a sneaking suspicion Jack knew his body was impressive, so she was not about to give him the satisfaction of ogling it. Yet somehow—despite her will—her eyes kept being drawn in to catch peeks of his dark chest hair. It seemed to be distributed along those sculpted pecs of his with absolute perfection.
Suddenly curious, Sabrina looked down at herself. She was still wearing the same black dress from last night. That also made sense. But something else kept nagging at her as she thought about three adults staying in her one little apartment.
She looked back up, willing her eyes on his and not his body. “Uh, Jack, where exactly did you sleep last night?”
A lazy grin swept over his rugged face. “With you.”
She was afraid of that.
She lunged for the bat. “I should have known,” she spat.
Jack quickly held up his hands, trying to control his laughter. “Take it easy, will you? Jeez, you’re touchy. I slept with you in your room, but on the floor. By the way, my back’s paying for that one.”
“Oh.” She didn’t want to think about why she felt a trickle of disappointment at that. Jack had been a gentleman. That was…good. But she had to wonder if he even tried anything funny—or had wanted to. Since she was still wearing her pantyhose and he complained about her bossiness last night, she guessed not.
What was the matter with her?
She wasn’t interested in Jack. Why would she be? David was right. Jack wasn’t even remotely her type. The man was clearly an egomaniac who probably slept with more women than there were hairs on Mrs. Metzger’s cat.
“Good,” she said, trying to sound pleased. “What time is it anyway?”
“Almost eight.”
“Eight?” she cried. “We’ll never have time to pick up your car this morning. Can you wait until after work?”
“Yeah, I’m not traveling today. You have a razor I can use?”
She nodded and held out a hand. “Let me have your T-shirt. I’ll throw it in the wash and bring it to work for you tomorrow.”
He casually tossed it to her with a smile. “Thanks, Mom.”
His comment triggered a memory of the conversation they’d had at dinner. She realized that Jack had opened up to her—their first real conversation since meeting. No wonder Jack was so anti-commitment. Having a parent commit suicide would be a lot of strain on a family. The children would have dealt with a lot of guilt issues…and worse, shattered trust.
Sabrina continued to stand there, twisting his T-shirt. “I know I had a lot to drink last night, but I did listen to everything you told me. I know it wasn’t easy for you to share that.”
“Not a big deal.”
She licked her lips and did her best to not let his tone affect what she
still wanted to say. “I know what you went through. Although my parents didn’t take their own lives, someone else did. So, I know what it’s like to feel lost and even question the purpose of life.”
She watched his tense features slowly relax.
“I appreciate all you did for me last night,” she continued, “and I thought that maybe under the circumstances, you would now consider me a friend.”
“Friend?” He looked like he’d just swallowed rotten cheese, and so she safely assumed someone like Jack wasn’t used to getting proposals of friendship from women.
“Yes. I think that if we were more united on a personal front, we would have a better chance of reaching our goals more quickly, don’t you?”
Jack seemed to consider it over in his mind. When he finally looked back at her, his eyes held a trace of amusement. “Okay, friend.”
She let out a deep, pent-up breath. “Okay.” About to walk back to her bedroom, she stopped mid-stride at the sound of Jack’s voice.
“Don’t forget this.” He held out her baseball bat and gave her a wide, toothy grin. “I don’t think you’ll be needing it anymore.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure.” She took it from his out-stretched hand and winked. “We haven’t been friends that long.”
…
Sabrina finished applying her ruby lipstick, then gave her hair a quick shake. After toying around with a few strands of her bangs in front of the foyer mirror, she turned to Jack. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Finally,” he mumbled, swinging open the front door.
“Sorry, but I don’t want your father thinking I went on some drinking binge last night.”
“You did go on a drinking binge last night. But he won’t notice.” His eyes swept over her with an appreciative gleam. “You look really great.” When she slanted him a look, he cleared his throat. “I mean…considering.”
Sabrina rolled her eyes. Men had it way too easy. Just shaving and splashing cold water on his face, Jack looked like he was ready to do another Boston magazine layout. Life wasn’t fair that way. Although because of Mrs. Metzger, he did smell a little like a salad. She smiled in spite of herself. “Thanks, I think.” She locked her door and led the way down the aisle.
Fiance by Fate Page 8
