It doesn’t matter who started it—only who ends up on top.
One Moment, Book 3
Jess Langford wants nothing more than to live her own life. But a horrific accident she had a few years ago left her with…issues. And an overprotective brother who thwarts her every attempt at independence.
Secretly moving out of her college dorm, she celebrates her newfound freedom with a one-night stand with a man she thinks she recognizes. It’s only in the light of the following morning she discovers the truth. It’s someone with the power and connections to send her right back to the prison she just escaped.
Physiotherapy consultant Van Sheffield knows exactly who Jess is. Stubborn. Rebellious. Trouble with a capital T. In other words, the perfect candidate for his innovative rehabilitation program.
Loving her spark, the energy that makes her pick herself up every time she falls, Van sets out to do whatever it takes to harness Jess’s strength of will. But he wasn’t expecting her to push him so close to the edge of his control…or so close to losing his heart.
Warning: Contains a feisty lady with a stubborn streak a mile wide, and a man who knows how to deal with a certain pain in the butt.
Not for a Moment
Toni J. Strawn
Dedication
Thank you to Holly, my editor (I love saying that) and to my writing buddies who have helped me along the way. And a special thanks to Natalie who encouraged me to write a short novella and to “have fun”. This is Book Three of having fun.
Chapter One
“Did you see him?”
“What?”
“Him!” Jess pointed toward the front door, straining to make herself heard above the thump-boom-thump of the stereo.
Her friend, Tash, looked around in confusion. She leaned close and yelled in Jess’s ear. “Which him?”
Jess swept her gaze back over the crowd. Damn it. She’d lost him again.
“Don’t worry,” she muttered.
Who were all these people anyway? When her new housemates had suggested a party, Jess hadn’t envisaged this heaving throng. They were the only people she knew apart from the one standing beside her…and potentially the good-looking guy who’d just slipped in through the front door.
Jess had definitely seen him before. She lifted onto her toes for a better look and her leg protested with a painful twinge. She ignored the ache in pursuit of another eyeful of the lean, handsome man who seemed so familiar.
Where the hell did she know him from?
In the smoky light of her jam-packed living room, his short, curling hair appeared black, although Jess knew it was brown—a dark, lustrous brown that was the perfect complement to his clean good looks. She wasn’t sure why she was so certain, but she was. No one forgot a face like that.
“I don’t know which one you mean.” Tash tugged on her arm and pulled Jess back onto her heels.
“I think I must have—” Jess was going to say mistaken him when he turned, his dark chocolate gaze skimming the crowd like a stone flicking across choppy water. Straight to Jess. Her breath caught as his eyes clashed with hers, a grin curving his lips to transform her mystery man from person of interest to haul-me-down-on-the-floor sexy.
Then he disappeared into the kitchen.
Jess wiped sweaty palms along her pants. She glanced down, wishing she’d worn something sexier than jeans and a Princess Bubblegum T-shirt. But then, the seventies-style house was hardly a backdrop for high fashion. The faded décor was original, left over from Mike’s grandparent’s days. The flooring—what you could see of it—was a swirling pattern of poo brown and green. Haute de carpet, it was not.
“So, do you think Cole will like your new living arrangements?” As if following her thoughts, Tash dug Jess in the ribs.
“He’ll love it.” Jess grinned through her uneasiness, well aware of what her brother would think.
Above the noisy din, she didn’t miss the sound of her friend snorting. Tash thought she was certifiable for giving up the comfort of the dorms for what she considered to be a dive. And that was being polite. Then there was her overprotective brother, who didn’t yet know she’d moved off campus.
Jess shrugged. “He’ll get over it.”
He’d have to. Jess was through being told what to do by Cole. She was twenty-three years old, well past time she should be making her own decisions. The fact she was recovering from her accident wasn’t an excuse anymore. She wanted control of her own life. She wanted to have fun.
“Shall we get out there and dance?” She nodded toward the dance floor.
They both stared out over the heaving mass of drunk partygoers, dancing, laughing, making out…and more. Had the amount of people doubled or tripled in the last hour? The party was in full swing and if Jess didn’t start cutting loose shortly, she’d probably give up and go to bed.
“Well, what do you think?” she prompted when her friend remained quiet.
“Uhh, actually, Jess, I was thinking of leaving.”
“No, don’t go.” Jess grabbed onto her arm. Her only ally couldn’t abandon her now. “I can’t believe you’re deserting me. First Jayne. Now you.”
She’d only invited two friends tonight and they were both piking. The music was loud and headache inducing. The muted lights and sweltering room burned at her eyeballs.
But still.
Jess had wanted to try something different. Do something crazy. Maybe find someone—someone not associated with the clinic. Like the yummy looking guy who had disappeared deep into the midst of the banging party.
“You sure you don’t want to come with me?” Tash asked as she opened the door to a rush of fresh, sweet-smelling air.
Jess had known she wouldn’t convince Tash to stay. The girls were clients at a rehabilitation clinic where pain was a daily reminder of the physical limitations they faced. Drinking, partying, and dancing were not their usual priorities.
She filled her lungs and shook her head. It was only her second night here and the housewarming was supposed to be in her honor.
“I’ll be all right,” she said. Of course she’d be all right. She was young. She was hip. And this was her party. Whoop. Whoop. “Maybe I’ll stalk that hot guy I saw,” Jess added with a sly wink.
“Well, if you don’t catch him, I know of someone else who’ll play mouse to your cat. Meow.” Tash made cat claws in the air.
“Don’t do that.” Jess laughed and batted at Tash’s hands. “It just looks wrong.”
“You need to face the fact Brad likes you.” Tash singsonged, “He loves you. Ooh yeah, he wants you.”
“Brad?” Jess screwed her nose up. “God, I hope not.” He was one of her new housemates and not someone on Jess’s personal radar. Not that a lot of men were.
“He’s been watching you all night, my little pussy cat. And he’s been drinking. Summoning up his courage to come get you.”
Jess glanced back into the room. Tash was right. Brad was currently weaving through the crowd with the grace of a water buffalo, spilling beer out of a big plastic red cup onto all and sundry, including the floor.
Nice. Jess gritted her teeth. Nothing spoke class like feet squelching across beer-sodden carpet.
Another quick look also revealed no sign of the guy she’d spotted earlier. She wished Tash could have seen him. His face still tickled the periphery of her memory and she was sure Tash would know who he was.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” Her friend blew her a kiss and walked down the path to her car.
“Not too early. Some of
us intend to party.”
“Have fun.”
“You know it!” Jess held her smile until Tash’s car pulled away from the curb.
She didn’t want to go back inside. It stank of stale beer and body odor. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone was going to miss her.
“Jess. You out here?”
Except Brad.
Damn it. Jess crept into the shadows of the veranda as Brad lurched outside to find her.
“There you are.” He joined her at the railing. Close. Too close.
“Yep. Here I am.” Jess offered a tight smile and shuffled along a little farther.
“Whatcha doing?” Brad leaned into her, his words exhaling on a fog of beer fumes and bad breath.
Jess’s nose twitched. “Just clearing my head,” she said, wondering how long housemate etiquette demanded she stay here. She didn’t want to be seen to be dodging him—even if that was exactly what she was doing.
“Were you waiting for me?” he asked, the words slurring in what he probably imagined was a sexy purr.
“Uh. No.” Jess took a step back. To hell with etiquette. Brad needed to get the message. He was a nice guy and all, but wasn’t there a law against having a relationship with people you lived with? She was at law school. She should know these things.
“Here, this’ll make you feel better.” Ever generous, Brad tried to hand Jess his plastic cup, half-filled with spit and beer.
“No thanks.” She nudged it away.
“Don’t be like that.” Brad stumbled against her as he tried to shove the cup into her hands. Beer sloshed over her boots, splattering onto the wooden decking. “I’m just trying to be friendly. Or more than friendly, if you like.” His voice lowered and he tweaked a lock of her short, dark hair. “I like you.”
“You’re drunk.” Jess straightened, deciding on the direct approach. “And I’m not interested.” She smiled to take the sting from her words and save him further embarrassment.
“It’s a party.” Alcohol made Brad oblivious to rejection and he came at her again. “Parties are where good things happen.”
A shiver crawled down Jess’s spine. She shrugged it off. This was Brad. He was drunk, but he wasn’t going to hurt her.
She changed tactics, slinging her arm about his shoulders. “Oh Brad, I don’t think you and I are a good idea.” Jess tried to steer him back into the party.
“Why not?” Brad interpreted her gesture as an invitation. He dropped his hand to trail his fingers over her ass and she found herself pressed against the railing with nowhere to go.
Jess stopped short of shoving him away. She knew he didn’t mean it. So instead of giving in to her inner ninja warrior and kneeing him in the nuts like she ached to do, Jess leaned in conspiratorially.
“Well, for one, we live together…and for another…my boyfriend wouldn’t like it.”
Brad’s drew back to stare at her. “Boyfriend?” He looked around, grinding Jess’s hip into the railing in the process. “I don’t see him here,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist, hauling her closer. “And I thought you were up for fun. Isn’t that what you said when you moved in here?” His breath grew coarse as he leaned in, wheaty beer fumes tickling at her nose. “That you wanted some fun?”
She shuddered as his drunk-limp cock squished into her leg. She itched to grab his balls and squeeze them until they popped, but she stayed her hand. He was her roomie. And he was tanked. Tomorrow they’d laugh it off over a plate of nachos.
“Fun. Yes. But not this kind of fun. And my boyfriend is here.” Jess pushed at his chest. Her injury usually brought out the soft side in men and they treated her with deference—or as if she had the plague—but Brad’s crass behavior had caught her unawares. She didn’t know if she could hurt him.
“This is the first I’ve heard of a boyfriend.” Brad crossed his arms and pouted.
It was the first Jess had heard of it too. She tended to stay away from men, seeing as her brother was a tad on the protective side. That was one of the reasons she’d moved from Buffalo to Wellsford University, to escape the long reach of her brother’s arm. Not that shifting away had improved her date quota. Since her accident which had left her with a lingering leg injury, Jess hadn’t exactly had time in between hospital, physiotherapy, specialists, exercise, and classes.
Still, ol’ Brad here didn’t need to know that.
Jess pulled out a coy smile. “He only just got here from Buffalo.” She lied through her teeth. If he didn’t take the bait soon she was going to resort to getting angry. And Brad wouldn’t like Jess when she got angry.
“He’s here?” Brad didn’t look convinced.
“Yes. He’s here.” Jess pointed in the general direction of the lounge. The Archbishop of England could be at this party and no one would notice. “He’s gone to get a drink, then he’s meeting me outside.”
Brad’s brows drew together into a heavy frown and Jess could almost see the thoughts churning through his drunk, Neanderthal brain… Duh, boyfriend wasn’t here and that meant…
“I’ve still got time to change your mind.” He lumbered forward again. “You like me, don’t you?”
Jess heaved out a sigh. “Sure, I like you, Brad. As a friend.”
She ducked around him before he boxed her in again and her injured leg chose that moment to give out. She stumbled sideways. Sparks of pain shot through her kneecap as her leg crumpled. Jess lunged for the open doorway and made a wild grab at whoever was standing there, not caring who it was.
Awareness trickled over her senses and her fingers flexed convulsively on his arm. Open. Close.
Mystery Man.
“Ah, here he is.” Inwardly cringing, Jess spoke out loud for Brad’s benefit.
Ignoring the fist-clenching cramp in her thigh, Jess clamped more firmly onto the muscled shoulder under her grasp. Her unwitting savior turned and she looped her arm in his, teeth gritted in an effort to grin through her pain. Brad glared from behind her, sullen and unmoving.
Jess rolled her eyes. She stretched up to brush her lips across the stranger’s cheek.
“Hey, I thought I recognized you. Great to see you.”
Up close, he looked slightly older than she’d imagined. Too old to be a student, Jess thought with a hint of disappointment. A young professor maybe? Yeah, that was it. She must’ve seen his photo on the university webpage…
She pushed him farther into the room, laughing inanely up into his face like a loon. She had no idea what his reaction to her was. She was too busy trying to keep her balance as her knee gave way again. Nope. She was going down.
This was gonna hurt.
Jess squeezed her eyes shut for the impact that never came. Her escort braced his arm beneath her elbow and held her up.
“Nice to see you too,” he said, his step barely faltering. His voice cut through the wall of noise, warm and smooth, close to her ear. “Is this your party?”
Jess nodded, her cheeks flaming. Embarrassment and relief. Maybe she could get away with this. He wasn’t even questioning why she’d hurled herself at him. Or why she was propelling him through the lounge as fast as her crapped-out knee would let her.
He lowered his head to her ear. “Keep walking. He’s still looking.”
Busted.
“Sorry.” Jess tried to keep up as he took control and picked the path of least resistance to the front door. A kick of disappointment prodded under her ribs when she realized he was going. “Ah, thanks for coming. I probably should explain…” She readied herself to offer an explanation, but her words dried up when her eyes hit his face. God, he was good looking when he smiled.
And he was smiling now. “Do you want to come with me?” he offered. “Or you can stay?” He glanced around the room.
Noise. Smoke. The thud, thud, thud of the speakers. No question, Jess wanted to bust out
of here. But…
“I know you, right? I mean, I’ve seen you before. In class or something?”
“Or something.” His grin broadened and once again Jess experienced a jolt of recognition. “The name’s Van. You’re Jess.” He laughed as her confusion showed. “I know your friend Jayne,” he explained.
Oh. Jayne. A streak of jealously caught Jess off guard.
Was that who he’d been looking for? Jayne? Jayne had been the first of her friends to ditch her tonight. Jess would be impressed if sweet little Jayne had been hiding this hunk from her. Jess wanted to be pleased for her friend…
No, really. She did.
“So, you’re Jayne’s boyfriend?” she asked in a rush of breath.
“No.” He chuckled, seeming quite definite about that.
And it was surprising how much better that made Jess feel. It was a game-changer. No way was she staying here to dodge Bradzilla. She would use her newfound freedom for good rather than evil. Simply put, Van was the sexiest thing she’d seen all night. All week. All…anything.
“Let’s do it, then.” She grinned. “Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter Two
“Where to?”
Van Sheffield cut his gaze across the car to Jessica Langford. Jess to her friends.
“How about your place?”
Her suggestion gave him pause, but Van shrugged as if it didn’t. Going anywhere intimate with Jess was a bad, bad idea. Except…did he have a choice? He glanced back at the house. Van couldn’t leave her with the asshole roommate. Chances were he wouldn’t hurt her, but Van wasn’t going to risk it. That was not what he did.
His gaze slid back to Jess. She wore figure-hugging jeans and he knew her solid-looking boots were orthotically designed. Short brown hair fell in straight lines to cup her face, her delicate features almost masking what he knew was determination.
Notoriously so. The photo in her file didn’t do her justice. It didn’t catch the spark of strength simmering below the surface, ready to rear up and sucker-punch you in the balls.
Not for a Moment: One Moment, Book 3 Page 1
