Love Is the Drug

by K. E. Saxon

  “That needs to go into the fridge! It’s got eggs in it.” She wrestled out of his hold, whipped around him and grabbed it up before hurrying over to settle it on the shelf in the refrigerator. When she turned to face him, she reclined against the door of the appliance and swept her black bug-eyed sunglasses up onto her spiky Texas-Aggie maroon hair, thrusting her man-hand sized mams out at him at the same time.

  Jason got a real good look then at the taut nipples that were standing out in succulent relief under the red polka-dot design of her blouse. His mouth watered and his heart began to pound. And if it weren’t for the fact that she was looking for something permanent, not a little afternoon delight, he’d have seriously considered the invitation—for a later time, of course.

  After the auction.

  “Gotta go, Nora Lee.” He yanked her forward and propelled her in front of him toward the door.

  “But—Maybe I could go with you? We could get to know each other a little better?”

  Jason opened the door and pushed her through it. He was probably rougher than he should have been, but he could not miss that auction.

  “This is business. You’d be too much of a distraction.”

  That seemed to mollify her. And God only knew, he hadn’t been lying. That sexy bod of hers was a distraction. But one he couldn’t afford to indulge himself in.

  He managed to get her in her car. “See you later,” he lied.

  He stood with his arms akimbo and tapped his foot as he waited for her to pull out of the drive. She took her time. Normally, her kind of flash attracted him, but there was just something too predatory in her demeanor.

  It set his teeth on edge. She was in avid pursuit of a husband. Something that Jason was so far from wanting to be at this time in his life that the mere thought of getting shackled gave him acute symptoms of claustrophobia.

  When Nora Lee was out of the way of his car, Jason jumped into his Corvette and screeched out of the driveway.

  * * *

  Minutes later, Jason gunned the engine, making the red speedometer needle swing and sway a second before zipping up to a stop at the 110 mph mark.

  The wind whipped at his hair, sending some of it between his sunglass lens and his eyelid. He felt a sharp poke and then his eyeball began to sting and water.

  Damn! He did not have time for this shit. Not after the morning he’d had.

  He yanked at the stray strand and rubbed his tormented eye as best he could while keeping his sights on the road ahead.

  He was going dangerously fast. Even for him. He knew it. But he had to get to that auction and obtain that property. He had to do this for his dad. He could not fuck up.

  At least this old farm-to-market road was deserted this time of day.

  The double-wide whitewashed metal gate of the auction property came into view just then and he pumped the brake pedal to slow the car.

  At the entrance, he turned the steering wheel to the right then touched the gas again to go up the long white chalk gravel road that led to the property and the auction site.

  The farmhouse that sat at the end of the road came into view. Jason slowed to a near stop and turned to the right where about twenty other cars were parked, positioning his own next to a fully restored fire engine red 1950 Chevy Pickup. He glanced at it with envy in the second it took to hurl his long legs out of the low, compact sports car and leap out.

  He strode toward the people gathered around the front porch and his gut sank. It was all over. The people were milling around, talking to each other and a trash can near the auctioneer’s podium was filling quickly with brochures.

  Crap! Jason’s shoulders slumped. His jaw tightened as he shook his head in total disgust at himself.

  He absolutely could not—would not—let this property go without a fight. The thought of telling his dad that he’d screwed up their dream—somehow screwed up his dad’s life again—made his stomach churn like a nervous baseball rookie rotating his bat.

  Jason straightened, took a deep breath and quickly scanned the area until he found what he was looking for.

  A man and woman were seated opposite each other at an oblong fold-up table not far from where he stood. There was a white banner hanging from the end with the name of the auction house in large blue letters across the front of it.

  Clearly, this was the place where the contract and other paperwork were to be signed by the new owner.

  The man wore a dark-brown cowboy hat and was decked in a western-style tan dress shirt, finely pressed Wranglers and snakeskin cowboy boots. As he thumbed through a stack of documents, Jason noticed that he wore a heavy University of Texas graduation ring on his right hand.

  The woman—or was she a girl?—was wearing some nondescript pink dress, belted at the waist with what looked to Jason like one of his mother’s scarves from his childhood: Dark aqua blue with big geometric shapes in bold contrasting colors. She wore very serviceable brown loafers. Clean, but not new. She was slender, with straight dark brown hair, parted on the side, and coming to a blunt stop just at her jaw line.

  Surely, she wasn’t the buyer. She didn’t look like she could afford a cup of coffee, much less a piece of land this size.

  And she sure as hell didn’t look old enough.

  She was probably a low-paid clerk or something for the auction house.

  He set his sights on the man again and strode toward him.

  “…so it shouldn’t take long to—”

  “Hi, I’m Jason Jörgensen,” Jason said, jabbing his proffered handshake in the cowboy’s face. There was a hiss of in-taken breath at his right hip, but Jason ignored it. He’d probably startled the poor clerk—pissed her off, too, for interrupting. Oh, well. He’d smooth those feathers after this piece of business was taken care of. “Whatever you paid for the property, I’ll double it.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER 2

  Julie Del Mar placed her palms on the table and rose to her feet. She swayed ever so slightly on her jittery limbs and wobbly knees but resolutely straightened her spine and turned to fully face the blond-haired young developer whose reputation and, no doubt life, her sister had ruined five years ago. “Mr. Jörgensen,” she said, taking the outstretched hand a bit awkwardly in her own and swinging it toward herself. “I'm the new owner of this property—and, we’ve met. Your father was a big influence on my life, as a matter of fact. Though I’m sure he has no idea that he was.”

  This caused a warm light to twinkle in his eyes and his somewhat bemused half-smile to soften into something much more genuine. Her heart fluttered. Then pounded. Rapidly and hard.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. “I’m Connie Del Mar’s sister, Julie.”

  His jaw dropped slightly and the long fingers and wide palm clenched tight around her palm for a fraction of a moment. Something—shock? Or was it anger? Maybe both—flashed in his blue eyes but then disappeared before she could get a good read on it. Then he gave her the same cock-sure grin he’d given her that day in the elevator lobby, bringing forth the killer dimple in his cheek, and released her hand a little slower than was strictly necessary.

  Adonis. The word whispered, like a warm breeze, across the transom of her mind.

  Julie blinked. And with it went the fog of fantasy. She was no Venus.

  “So, will you?”

  Her brows drew together and she squinted a bit as she stared at him. “Will I what?”

  His grin went to full wattage. She blinked rapidly and then glanced down at the contracts—anything to keep from being blinded.

  “Sell the property to me?”

  The man across from them stood up. “No matter what is decided, the paperwork for today’s auction is complete and you’ll receive the deed to the property in about a hundred-and-eighty days, so I’m off.” He tipped his hat. “Nice meetin’ you ma’am.” Then, with a quick look at Jason, he said brusquely, “sir,” before ambling away toward a dark green Ford Taurus.

  Julie bit h
er lip as she watched the older man leave. If this were any other property, she’d do it, and gladly. After what her sister did to Jason—which he could never find out about, nor could anyone—the Del Mar family owed him. Big time.

  But she couldn’t repay him with this. Not this. It meant too much to her.

  She took a chance, and turned her gaze to his once more. Her head did a slow shake. “I can’t.” She shrugged slightly. “I’m sorry.”

  Jason’s eyes widened. “Not even for double the price you paid? C’mon. That’s an instant one hundred percent profit.”

  She shrugged again as her eyes traveled up to the front porch of the bay blue house with white trim. “I know. But this was my family’s home before…” She looked back down at the envelope that held her copies of the documents.

  “Before? Before what?”

  She cleared her throat. “Before my parents died in a plane crash when I was twelve.”

  There was a long pause. Julie felt the weight of his eyes on her. She moistened her upper lip with her tongue and tucked her hair behind her ear.

  “Ah. I see,” he said at last. He turned and took a pace away, jabbing his fingers through his hair and then dropping his hand down to rest briefly on his hip before he crossed his arms over his chest.

  Julie’s eyes made a quick sweep of his navy blue shirt-covered back and landed briefly on the muscular buttocks that flexed beneath his khaki trousers. Her face heated and she forced her eyes up to focus on the back of his blond head again. “Three times. I’ll give you three times what you paid for it.”

  Julie’s brows lifted in surprise and disbelief. She took a step closer to him. He didn’t turn around when she asked, “Why this property? Why is this so important to you?”

  Jason sighed. He did turn to face her then. Jamming his hands halfway in his pockets so his thumbs dangled over the edges, he said, “Because it’s what my dad wants.”

  Julie’s smile came direct from her heart, “Your dad? Your dad wants this land?”

  “Yeah. We want to make it into a fishing resort. Maybe deer and duck hunting, too. He’s been dreaming of doing something like this for as long as I can remember, but the property had to be just right. Until now, he hadn’t been able to find a piece of land that met his expectations.”

  She took in a deep breath and released it on a sigh. “And my land fits his strict requirements.”

  “Clearly.”

  “Wow,” she said. She shook her head and crossed her arms. It broke her heart to have to disappoint Mr. Jörgensen. “He helped me so much.”

  “Yeah, you said as much. He did say something to me about you asking him all kinds of questions.”

  She nodded, looking blindly over his right shoulder as she recalled how pushy she’d been. She chuckled. “Lord, but he was patient with me. I must have asked him a zillion questions. And I know he had somewhere he needed to be, but I kept at him, practically holding him hostage there for, God, thirty or more minutes, at least.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s a great guy.” Jason’s right brow lifted. “Did you know he had a heart attack a few days after that?”

  Julie sucked in her breath. “No! I didn’t.” She stepped even closer and placed her hand on his upper arm. His head jerked ever so slightly and his eyes darted down to where she touched him before returning to her face, but he didn’t move away. “But he’s all right now,” she continued, “isn’t he?”

  Jason gave her a slow nod. “Well enough. But I’m sure giving him his dream project would make him feel even better.”

  Julie dropped her hand back to her side. Biting her lip, she sank slowly down into the chair behind her. She rested her elbows on the table, picked up the thick legal-sized envelope with both hands and blindly looked at her name scrawled across the front.

  If it weren’t for Gabe Jörgensen, she’d never have finished high school, never have had the gumption to defy her sister’s wishes and go to college to earn her business degree, never have followed through with this plan to open her family’s restaurant. Those few minutes he’d spent with her had made a huge impact on her life and he probably didn’t even know it.

  It had started out as a favor she was doing for her sister—keeping the old man occupied while Connie worked her spell on the son—but surprisingly, the more questions she’d asked, and the more thought-provoking answers she’d gotten from Mr. Jörgensen, the more excited she’d become at the prospect that even she, a mediocre student at best, and one that had already made the decision to drop out of high school and get her GED—whenever—had the ability to see her dreams fulfilled.

  A thing she’d all but given up on at that point.

  She’d agreed to be her sister’s personal assistant, not because it was something Julie wanted, but because it was something Connie wanted, and had convinced her she’d be stupid to pass up.

  No, Julie couldn’t—wouldn’t—be the one to take Mr. Jörgensen's dream away.

  But she wouldn’t give up hers, either.

  Her lips formed a thin line as she took in a deep breath and then exhaled. Hard. She shook her head once and then said, “I won’t sell the property to you outright, but you can go into partnership with me.”

  She turned her head and looked at him then. He remained silent, so she continued. “As it happens, I intend to open a restaurant—carry out my own father’s plans to use the second house on the property in that capacity—but I see no reason why that couldn’t run just as well, and side-by-side, with a fishing resort. Do you?”

  * * *

  Jason studied the girl—woman—girl. Christ! How old was she anyway? His dad said she was seventeen back then, so she must be twenty-two, twenty-three now. But she still looked like a wet-behind-the-ears teenager to him. And he was fighting some pretty strong, but completely opposing, feelings right now about this whole situation. His dad liked this girl, and he could see she was about as opposite to Connie as a Spanish nun was to an Amsterdam hooker. But being here with her was making it harder than ever to tamp down that uneasy feeling he sometimes got when memories flashed in his mind about that episode five years ago, before he could lock them back behind the iron gate of his will again.

  And Jesus! That comforting touch she’d just given him had sent sex sparks zinging through his system like the amped-up purple lightning of a Tesla coil.

  Not only surprising, but freaky as hell.

  He shifted, balancing his weight on his other leg. Okay, guy, focus. Focus on the business at hand.

  Partners.

  With the sister of the woman who caused the horror his life had turned into five years ago. The cause—no matter what his dad said—of his father having a major heart episode. The cause of his finding out that that same man, the father he adored, was not the father he shared DNA with.

  That jittery, unbalanced feeling, which made his lungs feel like they were going to collapse, showed itself again and Jason swung around and began striding toward his car. “No way,” he said, keeping his eyes directed forward as he lifted his hand high and waved it in brusque farewell. “Not gonna happen.” Except…shit!

  He slid slightly on the gravel as he came to an abrupt halt. Dropping his hands on his hips, he tipped his head back slightly and looked up into the boughs of the pecan tree not far from where he stood.

  His dad really wanted this. And this project might just be the ticket to getting them back to that easy place they’d been before everything had fallen apart.

  He took a deep breath and released it. Then he turned around and stared hard at the girl—the sister. She looked a little lost and a whole lot buffaloed. That made Jason smile.

  “Okay. Maybe.”

  With long strides, he walked back to stand before her. “You hungry?” he asked. And then, not giving her time to answer, he took hold of her upper arm and pulled her toward his Vette, saying, “Well I am. Let’s go to Jimmy’s. We can talk more about this partnership idea while we get a bite to eat.”1

  * * *

 
“So, how long have you owned that gorgeous piece of machinery, anyway?” Jason asked, noticing again that nervous habit Julie had of tucking her hair behind her ear and sucking on her lower lip, before he shoved the rounded, thick edge of his bacon-cheese burger in his mouth.

  He had a weird déjà vu moment then.

  Oh, yeah. He’d been here many times before. In high school—even a little in college. After a game, he’d take his date out for burgers. And back then, most of those girls were pretty nervous to be out with the star quarterback.

  “The truck?”

  Jason nodded.

  “Oh, I haven’t had it for long, actually. About a month.” She lifted the red plastic tumbler that held her iced soda and took a sip before continuing, “It was a gift, actually, from…from my sister.”

  Jason’s shoulders and neck bunched. Shit! He placed his burger down on his plate and sat back, studying her a minute as he extended one leg out and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin.

  The vinyl covering on the burgundy booth seat gave a low squeak of stress when he crossed his arms over his chest. “Let’s talk about Connie. Clear the air, so to speak, and then we can talk some more about this partnership idea. Okay by you?”

  Might as well deal with it up front so he’d never have to talk about it again. Ever.

  Hell, he and his dad still hadn’t spoken about the horrible discovery that had come out of the fiasco with Connie Del Mar. And the more time that passed, the more likely it was that they never would.

  That suffocating feeling welled up in him again and his heart pounded. He took a deep breath, hiding it by pretending to yawn. Yeah, he and his dad not talking about it was fine with him.

  But he couldn’t see a way around talking about Connie with her sister. Once.