by Liz Talley
“Did you happen to rub any hollandaise sauce behind your ear?”
Elle’s eyes sparkled. “No, but I could dab some wine.”
“Don’t bother. I don’t need an excuse this time.” He jammed the appropriate amount of cash into the bill jacket and rose, graciously pulling out Elle’s chair, all the while using it as an excuse to brush against the curve of her shoulder, to stroke her inner elbow. He felt her tremble and it pleased him to know she desired him too.
They left the restaurant, not bothering to hide their longing to escape the confines of polite society. Jack pushed the elevator button and draped one arm around Elle. She tucked her head against his shoulder.
“Have you ever made out in an elevator?” he whispered into the shell of her ear.
She shook her head.
“Wanna give it a whirl?”
This time she nodded.
His mouth found hers, demanding and insistent. He wanted to consume her right in the foyer of the most exclusive eatery in Vegas. And he didn’t give a damn who saw him acting like a sophomore about to get some action for the first time.
The elevator doors swooshed open and someone jostled them as several people exited the car. He never stopped kissing Elle. Couldn’t stop. Not even when the gentleman muttered, “Excuse me,” and a woman out and out laughed.
Finally Jack lifted his head. Elle’s lips were wet and tempting.
“I think we better go downstairs to the casino,” he said, trying to pull away from her so she couldn’t feel how much he wanted her. It took all his energy to step back.
Elle walked into the empty elevator car. “Okay, we’ll go to the casino. You can teach me all the games. But first you said we’d make out in the elevator.”
He laughed. “So I did.”
“Well, we didn’t make it to the elevator.”
“I can’t be responsible for what I might do to you in that elevator.”
Elle smiled and crooked one finger.
He went as willing as a lamb to slaughter.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The only good thing about baseball is the way the men look in their pants. I may be old, but I ain’t dead yet.
—Grandmother Tucker to Nellie during the Texas Rangers game they won tickets to.
NELLIE SLID onto the newly painted bleacher and tried to look like she wasn’t having heart palpitations at the sight of Jack standing on the pitching mound hugging a cute blonde in a seriously short pair of athletic shorts.
“Who’s the whore?” Kate drawled, plopping her Prada purse onto the bleacher in front of them and pushing her almost too obnoxious sunglasses into place on her nose.“Don’t say things like that,” Nellie reprimanded, trying not to sound like the librarian she was.
“Bullshit. That’s your man, isn’t it?”
Nellie felt her heart flinch. “No. This is a fling. Remember?”
Kate slid her glasses down and met her eyes. “Oh, I remember. Do you?”
“Of course I do,” Nellie snapped.
Kate smiled as she refocused on the field. “Still, he invited you. Miss Look-at-my-tight-ass needs to know her place. Go out there and claim him, Nell.”
“Are you insane?” Nellie ripped her eyes off the blonde in Jack’s arms and turned to her friend. “I will do no such thing. We shouldn’t have come. I don’t know why—”
“Don’t worry. You look classy compared to that.” Kate gestured toward the blonde before her attention was stolen by a player sitting on the bottom bleacher unlacing his cleats.
She and Kate had headed out to Henderson after she’d mentioned to the girls that Jack had invited her to watch him play softball. Trish had elected to follow up on a deposition, which had pissed Kate off, and Billie had napped. Only Kate had wanted to go with her. Nellie was certain it had something to do with guys in tight baseball pants who might potentially rip their shirts off. She was just glad to have her friend with her.
She crossed her legs, tossed her hair over her shoulder and leaned back, propping her elbows on the bleacher behind them. She liked her outfit—clingy white sleeveless shirt that buttoned only so far down, white shorts that made her legs look tanned, plucky leather thong sandals and a chunky gold bracelet she’d borrowed from Billie. It was a good look, a look that said, No big deal.
“Elle.” Jack’s voice interrupted her mental playing-it-cool checklist.
“Good God, I’d like to lick his stomach,” Kate whispered.
“You are so sick,” Nellie returned out of the corner of her mouth.
But she knew what Kate meant. Jack had shrugged off the blonde and headed toward the bleachers. He looked like every woman’s dream. It was everything she could do to not leap from the bleachers, tackle him and have her way with him. When had sweat become sexy?
“You came,” Jack said, propping his arms on the fence.
“I’ll bet,” Kate whispered.
Nellie tried not to laugh. Or turn red. “Yeah, I told you I would try to make it. Sorry we missed the game. We got lost.”
His eyes slid over her and made her tingly. Then he smiled and her heart raced. Nellie knew she was falling for him. Hell, she’d already fallen. It was more Game Over, Love wins.
She licked her lips. “Jack, this is—”
But Kate wasn’t beside her any longer.
“Where’d she go?” Nellie asked, shocked she hadn’t felt her friend slip away.
Jack’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. He jerked his head toward the dugout. “Hamm took off his shirt.”
Nellie glanced at the dugout. Sure enough, Kate stood next to the Adonis who’d been unlacing his shoes. He no longer wore a shirt. “What the—”
“Don’t worry. They all do that when he takes off his shirt. Girls can’t resist his six-pack.” Jack’s ball cap perched backward on his head and the faded Texas Longhorn shirt molded itself to his body like a second glove. He looked sweaty, hot and ready to grace the cover of a fitness magazine.
“I resisted,” Nellie said.
“And I appreciate that, Elle.” His gaze met hers and held. They remained that way for a full minute. Just holding each other’s smile, content to have no words mar the moment.
“Wanna get out of here?” Jack asked.
“Yeah, but I came with Kate.”
“Kate looks busy. I don’t think she’ll mind.”
She looked over at Kate. Her friend had waylaid Adonis with a smile of invitation. Then she cocked her head to the side and walked her fingers up the man’s chest. Kate. She was nothing if not obvious.
“Still, let me talk to her a minute.”
Nellie slid from the bleacher, grabbing Kate’s ridiculously expensive handbag. She tried to move slowly, as if she weren’t in a hurry to escape the sunny ballpark full of good-natured people packing away equipment and making plans for beer and pizza. She didn’t want everyone to know that all she could think about was being alone with Jack.
“Kate?”
Her friend ripped her eyes from the man in front of her. “Mmm?”
“Uh, Jack wants—”
“You to wash his back?” Kate finished, lustily eyeing Jack’s teammate, who was shrugging into a dry shirt.
“Not necessarily,” Nellie said. “I thought I would go with him and then meet you and the girls later for the show.”
“Don’t worry about the show. I got the tickets for free. Don’t know why you wanted to see those blue guys anyway. Freaky.” As she spoke, Kate kept brushing against the unsuspecting Hamm or whatever his name was.
“Blue Man Group?” the Brad Pitt look-alike asked. “I love those guys.”
“Really?” Kate drawled the word. It sounded like honey pooling. “’Cause now I have an extra ticket.”
And just like that, Nellie was free. Free to go with Jack. To spend a few more precious hours with him. Or maybe more. If she didn’t have to go to the Blue Man show then she could spend the whole evening with him.
Or maybe the whole night.
Her s
tomach flopped over at the thought.
“See you,” Nellie called out as she turned back toward Jack.
Jack had grabbed his bag while Nellie talked with Kate. Keys dangled from his hand.
“All set?”
“Yeah, I’m yours for the night,” she said, sliding her arm into the crook of his, all the while tossing the blonde who’d draped herself on him a few minutes ago a sunny smile. It was tacky. Low. But Nellie enjoyed every moment of it.
She had staked her claim.
“Mine for the night, huh?” Jack murmured against her ear. “I like the sound of that.”
“Me, too,” Nellie said.
As they strolled toward the sleek sports car, Nellie wondered why she had allowed herself to get so tangled up in Jack Darby. Okay, she knew the motto for the Girls and Glam getaway. Indulge. Create a fantasy. Live for the moment.
But this had grown into more than that. Now it felt dangerous. Not as in “take a risk” dangerous. More like “eat a carton of ice cream and go through a box of tissues” dangerous. Like this one was going to hurt. Bad.
But what could she do? Blow him off and go back to the hotel? Go watch the blue men bang on drums? She only had a couple of days left. Could she really spend them without Jack?
No. She would take what she could. Continue being Elle. Pretend he wasn’t anything more than what she intended him to be.
Jack opened her door. “Whew. It’s getting hot. I could really use a cold one.”
“I’ll second that,” Nellie quipped, hopping into the bucket seat.
Jack clasped a hand to his chest and staggered back. “I am in love.”
Nellie watched as Jack jogged in front of the car to the other side, wondering if he knew what a chord his words had struck within her. So silly of her, but a little part of her wanted to believe he meant what he said.
But that was stupid, because he didn’t know her, really. He didn’t know her name, where she lived, what she did, or anything much else about her. What would he think if he knew she could embroider tablecloths and transplant heirloom roses? What would sexy Jack Darby say if he saw her in her library jumper with the books appliquéd to the pockets, or in her Coke-bottle glasses?
She really didn’t want to know.
So wishing for something that wasn’t going to happen was unrealistic.
And Nellie was never unrealistic.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Good sex only happens between a man and woman who love each other. And to be honest, Nellie, I could only label it “good” about a tenth of the time.
—Grandmother Tucker, upon delivering the “birds and bees” talk to Nellie on her fifteenth birthday, just two weeks after Nellie had let Clive Sikes get to second base.
NELLIE WALKED AROUND the infinity edge pool, admiring a backyard that could have been featured on HGTV. Sunlight glittered on the surface of the water, seductively inviting a plunge into the aqua depths. She momentarily wished she’d brought the bikini Kate insisted she buy. The thought of parading around in front of Jack with just two strips of glittery hot pink made her shivery inside. Shivery hot.
“You want to take a swim?” Jack’s voice came from behind her. He handed her a bottle of beer then clinked his against hers before lifting it to his mouth.“I don’t have a suit,” she said, knowing her words invited suggestion.
Sure enough, he lifted one eyebrow and tossed her his trademark wolfish grin. “No one can see you. The only neighbors who might are in Costa Rica canopy gliding, or whatever they call it.”
“I don’t know,” she hedged, eyeing the perimeter of the backyard. The space did seem fairly hidden, but she’d never actually skinny-dipped. It seemed like total wild abandonment.
Jack snapped his fingers. “Know what? I think my sister left a suit in the cabana the last time she and Drew were up. Let me check. You can change while I grab a shower and my suit. Then we can cool off in the pool.”
Nellie nodded then took a big gulp of the beer. Icy cold, it slid down smooth and felt like liquid courage. She knew everything had been leading to this moment and was extremely glad they had not made love the first time they’d met. Correction. The second time they’d met. The first time hadn’t counted because she’d been just plain ol’ Nellie Hughes.
Jack returned from the cabana off the side of his pool holding a bright green swatch of cloth.
“Here you go. You two are about the same size, so I think it’ll do. Go ahead and change in the cabana. I’m gonna grab a shower and put some chicken in to marinate. We can grill tonight if that is okay with you.”
Nellie took the suit from him. Her stomach felt like bats had taken up residence, but she delivered a breezy smile. “Sounds great.”
Jack entered the house, leaving her to the intimate beauty of his backyard. She didn’t fail to notice it had been professionally landscaped. Fragrant hibiscus dominated urns while tropical palms provided a leafy background for the climbing Mandevilla and windmill jasmine. Trumpet flowers and bird of paradise dotted the beds surrounding the pool, and gentle bamboo swayed against the privacy fence.
Nellie entered the cabana and slipped out of her clothes, folding them neatly, even the white wisp of a lace thong. She slid into the bright green suit, noting there were a lot of cutouts revealing a lot of flesh. Thank goodness Kate had talked her into the spray-on tan and bikini wax. She turned to check out her backside, just to make sure the cellulite wasn’t too bad and the suit was in place. She caught sight of herself in the mirror.
The suit flattered her, dipping low between her generous breasts and skimming the lower part of her back. The heart tattoo looked bold on her tanned shoulder, and once again Nellie marveled at how different she looked. Yep, totally Elle.
She took her white sleeveless shirt from the neatly folded pile, pulled it on and left the cabana.
Jack wasn’t back yet, so she made her way to the steps and dipped one toe into the pool. The water wasn’t too cold, just refreshing. The sun glared down, making a small bead of sweat roll down her back. Now she felt stupid for keeping her shirt on. He’d still be seeing her in the bathing suit.
But before she could slip the shirt off and toss it on a lounge chair, something swept her from her feet and lobbed her into the pool.
She came up sputtering.
Jack grinned from above her, wearing a red suit and looking way too fine without a shirt.
“No fair!” she cried, wiping the rivulets of water from her eyes while trying to tread water. She didn’t have time to complain much longer.
All she heard was a cry of “Cannonball” and a wave of water rushed toward her.
Jack emerged next to her, grinning like a twelve-year-old prankster.
“Jack!” She went to splash him but his head disappeared. She turned in a circle looking for him. Then she felt his hand on her foot, tugging her down into the depths of the pool.
She went willingly.
His arms wrapped around her, slipping beneath the open shirt. They felt so warm in the coolness of the water. His naked chest felt splendid next to her skin as she bumped against him. Their legs tangled and he pulled her close to him and kicked toward the surface. They both emerged with a gasp.
His smile, so teasing before, didn’t seem playful now. And his hands were busy, traveling the length of her body.
“Elle, I’ve tried to wait, but you look so damn good and you feel so damn good, I don’t think I can just make out this time. I’ll stop if you insist, but…”
His words trailed off even as his hands stayed busy. She looked into blue eyes that flamed with passion. She knew they mirrored her own.
“I don’t want to stop this time,” she said.
And that was all it took.
Jack seemed to send up a silent prayer of thanks, pulled her tighter to him and swam toward the steps. His eyes remained on hers, but when he felt the edge of the step bump them, he lowered his head and kissed her sweet, wet lips. This time she tasted yeasty like beer, with a hint of ci
nnamon. She tasted of all things good. All things sexy and right.
Elle gave a moan of surrender. Her bottom sank onto the step as she angled her head so he could deepen the kiss. Her arms curled about his neck, pulling him to her. He went eagerly, his dripping chest pressing against the delicious softness of her breasts.
He tore his mouth from hers and whispered against her ear, “Take this shirt off so I can touch you, Elle.”
He went back to exploring the sensitive curve of her neck as she shrugged out of the sodden shirt. It hit the edge of the pool with a slap.
“Oh, good girl,” he growled, dotting small wet kisses along the edge of her breasts where they swelled against the neckline of the borrowed suit. He tugged the edge of the suit with his teeth and one rosy nipple emerged.
Sweet Lord.
Nellie couldn’t believe the liquid pool of pleasure spreading within her. She felt like she was watching herself do these naughty things with Jack. She saw his eyes darken at the sight of her nipple. Boldly, she slid her fingers to the halter of the bathing suit and tugged it down.
Jack smiled.
And all of her reservations fled as she watched him take her in. His eyes made love to her just before his mouth descended. Oh, dear God. His mouth was hot. Her breasts were tight and heavy, almost painful with the need to be touched. And at the first tug of his teeth on one hard peak, she bucked against the stone steps.
“Mmm,” she groaned, rocking her hips against the erection straining his swim trunks. She needed to feel him inside her.
The heat uncoiling in her pelvis settled low, throbbing and hungry as Jack moved his head to her other breast and gave it the same dedicated attention.
“Mmm, Jack!” she panted, running her nails down his back and moving her thigh so it rubbed against his crotch.
Jack’s only response was a heated groan. He shifted his hips, splaying her legs, leaving her open to the friction he created by moving against her. Her need for him rose to a fevered pitch.
Tired of the barrier between them, she pulled his head back from her breasts and shimmied out of the suit. Jack grinned and pulled his trunks off too. It joined her suit with another heavy plop.
