Love Is the Drug

by K. E. Saxon

  She heaved a really big sigh. It came out as a groan. “All right. I’ll go with you.”

  Jason leaned down and gave her a buss on the cheek, jetting a thrill of euphoria down to her toes. “Thanks, Julie. I owe you one.”

  She gave him a half smile and shook her head. “Yeah, yeah.” And then her eyes widened. “Hey, what am I supposed to wear to go dancing there, anyway?”

  * * *

  Jason did a quick scan of her attire. He knew he should tell her to put something less sexy on—for his own peace of mind—but the words just would not form. Instead he said, “Oh, what you have on is just fine for Jimmy’s honky tonk.”

  * * *

  1

  CHAPTER 4

  Two hours later, Jason was regretting those words. Not only had he been in a state of semi-arousal since their first slow dance together a half-hour ago, but now, he was feeling a very unfamiliar need to keep the other hounds at bay. He’d been kind of enjoying this bizarre almost-attraction he was feeling for Julie, which he attested to the sense of déjà vu he got when he was with her.

  And he was pretty sure she wanted him, too—even if she was trying to hide it. He thought that was real cute. He’d catch her looking at him when she thought he wasn’t aware. And he’d definitely noticed that the hair-fidgeting thing happened more when she was with him than when she talked to other people.

  Hell, if she wasn’t Connie’s sister—and his dad’s pet project—he might even go for it.

  Which brought him back to the problem at hand: Mike Magnusen, of Magnusen Construction—the guy he’d just hired to build the lodge once the designs were complete. He and Julie were out on the dance floor, where they’d been for the last three dances, and Jason could tell by the leer in Mike’s eyes that he was having the same kind of reaction to her that he, himself, had just had. Clearly, Julie conjured that same déjà vu vibe in Mike. From the look of him, he’d probably been a linebacker in high school—maybe even college, too.

  He shoved the bottle of beer further back on the table and got to his feet. Then he strode up to the couple on the dance floor. Tapping Mike on the shoulder, he said, “Hey, guy, mind if I cut in? Julie’s my date, remember?”

  Mike gave him a sheepish grin and conceded his prize. “Sorry, Jason. I guess I forgot about that.”

  Jason cocked a brow at Mike, letting him know he didn’t believe that piece of horse shit for one second, and then he took Julie in his arms and swept her down the dance floor. He kind of liked how she would stumble against him every once in awhile when she missed a step.

  ‘Course, those two beers he practically had to force down her gullet to get her to even consider dancing in the first place probably weren’t helping her coordination any. “You look flushed—are you hot? Wanna sit a couple out? Or—maybe you’d like to take a walk outside and get some fresh air for a minute?”

  Julie grinned up at him and shook her head. “No way. Now that you dragged me out here, I’m having too good of a time to rest.”

  He grinned back. She felt kind of nice to hold. Not like arm ornament, but like real female flesh. He allowed his eyes a quick glance down at her chest. Nice looking tits. Not real big, but definitely some he’d like to see more of. He lifted his eyes back to hers and was jolted by the twinkle in her eye as she lifted her mouth into an even wider smile. He gave her a shrug. “Sorry. Guy thing. Not even conscious of it most of the time.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Jason’s eyes widened in shock, but he laughed. That was the first time he’d heard her say a single cuss word. And she’d chosen a good one. “Not buying it, huh?” He definitely liked this looser side of her. He’d have to remember to get her tipsy more often.

  “Not for one single minute. You forget: I’ve been around a lot of men, even if they were just interested in my sister.” She stumbled against him again, and this time, Jason led her off the dance floor. “Time to get some fresh air.”

  They were just about to the door when he saw Mike cozying up to Nora Lee at the bar. Shit! He’d hoped, when he hadn’t seen the Husband Hunter by eight o’clock, that she wasn’t coming out tonight. He was just about to turn around and head for the back door when she glanced up and saw them. No getting out of it now. “Hi, Nora Lee, nice to see you,” he said, and then—he couldn’t say why for sure—he put his arm around Julie’s waist and tucked her tight up against his side. Flashing a glance down at her, he continued, “This is Julie Del Mar, my partner.” There was definite apprehension, as well as surprise, in those dark eyes of hers as Julie looked up at him and then over at Nora Lee.

  Nora Lee squinted a bit and her brow furrowed. “Del Mar?” Her eyes flew to his then. “You’re that Jason Jörgensen?” There was shock in her voice.

  “What’re you talking about, ‘that Jason Jörgensen,’?” Mike asked as he gave Jason a confused look.

  Nora Lee slid off her stool and placed her hand on Mike’s upper arm. “Why, Sugar, this here”—she tipped her bottled-red-head toward Julie, who now stood as stiff as Jason—“is Connie Del Mar’s sister. You know—that crazy blonde actress who grew up around here somewhere? The one that killed herself a few weeks ago.” Then she pointed her thumb at Jason. “And this guy here is the man Connie Del Mar accused of attempted rape”—she looked over at Jason then, one brow raised—“and drugging, right? About—I don’t know—what? Five, six years ago?”

  Jason dropped his arm from Julie’s waist and stepped a couple of inches away from her. “She was mistaken. And that’s all I’m willing to say about it.” His gaze was steady as he scanned first one face and then the other of those who, including the bartender, were standing close enough to have heard the exchange. “Ever.” He could practically see the rumor growing legs and running around the room. “C’mon Julie, we’re leaving.” And then he took hold of her arm and nearly dragged her out the door.

  She didn’t protest. Not once. Even when she slid and nearly fell on the gravel in the parking lot as he hauled her none too gently toward the truck.

  Back in the bar, Nora Lee turned to Mike and said, “I wonder what Connie’s sister thinks. Did you notice how quiet she was the whole time?”

  Mike shrugged. “I believe Jason. Those celebrities live by a whole different code of ethics than us regular folk.”

  “Yes, but what if the sister’s trying to set Jason up or something?”

  Mike rolled his eyes. “No way. That girl’s much too sweet to do anything like that.”

  Nora Lee just cocked a brow at him and, with a last glance toward the door, lifted one hip back up onto the stool. “So, Mike, how about another drink, for old time’s sake?”

  * * *

  Julie was barely in the truck before Jason slammed the passenger door. She heard the gravel crunch and the muted sound of pounding feet as he jogged around to the driver’s side and then yanked open the door. He hoisted himself up onto the seat and put the key in the ignition. As he started the engine, he looked over at her.

  “Look,” he said, “I’m sorry if I was a little rough getting us out of there—did I hurt you?” He put the truck into reverse and, looking over his shoulder, pulled out.

  Julie studied him more closely. She was still having trouble processing all that had transpired in the bar a moment ago. “No, I’m fine” She turned her gaze forward and looked out the windshield, keeping her sights on the broken yellow lines in the road. She took in a deep breath and released it slowly. “Jason, I think it’s time we talked about what happened five years ago.”

  He shot a quick glance in her direction. “What? Why?” And then he turned to focus on the road ahead again.

  She swiveled around to face him fully. “Because, if we don’t want to be fodder for every wagging tongue in this town for—oh, I don’t know—the rest of our lives, we’d better show a united front and give them just enough information to make it plausible. The only way I can see us doing that, is for us to talk about IT.”

  Jason’s hands clenched around the stee
ring wheel. Talking about Connie, and that whole sordid, degrading, and life-changing episode in his life, was the last thing he wanted to do. Not now. He wasn’t ready. Now all he wanted to do was drop Julie off at her house, get in his Vette and drive. Drive as fast and as far away from this place as he could get. Dallas, maybe. He could stay there a couple of days—at least until he could get a handle on how he wanted to deal with Nora Lee.

  “When I get back. We’ll talk about it then,”—he gave her a quick glance and then returned his focus to the road ahead—“okay?”

  Yeah. He’d go to Dallas. That was perfect. He’d call Jeanette, the lady he’d met about four months ago on the Revelett Business Park deal, they could resume where they’d left off—and Lord knew he could use a little bit of that kind of distraction—especially after three full days of fighting his baser instincts in regard to the girl next to him, as well as being deprived in general for going on three weeks since moving to this country cowburg.

  Yes, indeed, the best tension reliever—hands down—was sex, hot and dirty.

  “Get back? Get back from where?”

  He swung his gaze to hers again. “Dallas. I’ve a little business I need to take care of—didn’t I tell you?”

  He saw her shoulders stiffen before he turned his eyes back to the road. “No. No you did not,” she said.

  “Sorry. Yeah, I’ve got to meet with someone tomorrow about a project my company completed last March.”

  “I see.”

  When Julie didn’t say anything further, he relaxed and continued on to her house. They didn’t speak again until he pulled into the space next to his Vette. He removed the keys from the ignition switch and handed them over to her. “Thanks for letting me drive this beauty. It’s a real dream machine.”

  “Yeah, well don’t forget you promised to return the favor.”

  He smiled. “Next week. You can take her out next week. Okay?”

  “Great.”

  He opened the door and slid his foot to the ground. “Well, I guess I’ll see you in a few days.”

  He was just about to shut the door when he heard her say, “A few days? How am I supposed to answer people’s questions until then—and you know they’re going to ask, now that they know who I am.” She opened her door and got out. She slammed it shut, so he did too. They walked a few paces toward the back of the truck and faced each other across its bed. “Well?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t answer any questions. I don’t see why we need to explain anything to these people.”

  She dropped her hands onto her hips. “Because, if we don’t, they’ll make something up—and you know it’ll be a lot worse than what it really was. Even as bad as it really was. Besides, do you want your clients to be dragged into the rumor mill?” She lifted her hand and emphasized each of her next words with a karate chop to the air. “I-know-I-don’t.”

  He sighed. “Fine. We’ll talk about it—get the story straight, like you said. But not tonight.” Tonight he was getting laid. He strode the rest of the way around the truck and swept past her, opened the Vette’s door and jumped inside. The engine was revving and he was already pulling out when she ran around the front and leapt, head first, inside. “What the HELL!” He slammed on his breaks and her legs and hips, which were still hanging over the top of the car door, slid toward the passenger side windshield. Her cheek slammed against his knuckles, which were crowning the black knob of the stick shift.

  “Owww!!” She somehow managed to hoist herself the rest of the way into his car while he released his grip and shook his stinging hand.

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well then, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

  She shrugged. She didn’t look at him, instead keeping her eyes focused forward, and she was rubbing her cheek. “I’m going with you, of course.” She did look at him then. “I’ll be glued to your side until our stories agree. Because no way am I braving the town’s gossips all on my own.”

  Jason’s jaw clenched so tight he almost cracked a tooth. “All. Right.” He pulled back into the space and cut the engine. “But not here. Inside.” He reached across her and pressed the button to the glove box and the lid fell open. He reached inside and brought out the flask of Jamison’s he kept there for just such occasions, slammed the lid shut, and then swung the door of the Vette open and stepped out. “Let’s get this over with.”

  He was still going to Dallas. After what they were about to talk about, he’d be in serious need of some tension relief. In fact, it’d better be a marathon.

  * * *

  Jason barely allowed Julie time to settle on the couch before he asked her point blank, “Do you believe I tried to give your sister a roofie or attempted to rape her?” He aimed a precision-drill gaze at her, deliberately putting enough torque behind it to make her innards churn, the same as his were now.

  “I think…I think you were very young—both of you were—and things just got out of hand.” She lightly rubbed the bridge of her nose before swiping a heavy blade of hair back behind her ear. With a sigh, she said, “If you’re asking me if I believe you to be a rapist—clearly, I don’t. I assure you, no matter that it was your dad’s dream to own this property, if I did believe that, there is no way I would have—”

  “How do you know?” Jason took a step toward her and dropped his hands to his hips.

  Julie’s head jerked back a bit. “Because…because, well, once a rapist always a rapist, right? I mean—at least until they’re put in jail. Well—maybe even then…I don’t know—”

  “Spit it out, Julie. Stop stalling.”

  “Okay! Uhmm—ahem—my sister’s publicist has kept tabs on you.”

  Every muscle in Jason’s body went rigid. His eyes narrowed as he watched her fidget, brushing a finger across her lower lip. Did they know about his real father? Specifically—and much more importantly—what he had been?

  “You’re a model citizen, by the way,” she said. “Well, except for the…uhmm…the speeding tickets.” Her gaze slid to the flask of whiskey, half hanging from his right pocket. “How about a drink?” Her speech was rushed, a bit breathless. And then she bolted to her feet, saying, “I’ll just get us a couple of glasses,” before hustling toward the kitchen.

  Oh, no you don’t. He followed her. “What do you mean, ‘my sister’s publicist kept tabs on you’,—are you saying that I’ve been followed? For five years! That I’ve been under some sort of surveillance??”

  She grabbed two tall, clear glass tumblers with bright yellow smiley faces from the cupboard and turned back to face him. She curved the glasses in toward her chest, resting them just above her breasts, as if for protection. “No. It wasn’t like that, I swear. He did it mostly as a means of staying one step ahead of the media hounds—you know, ‘if there’s a story to spin, I’m going to spin it my way, and first.’”

  His eyes widened. “He was looking for a story?”

  She shook her head. “No, no, no. Not a story. He was just trying to protect my sister’s—his client’s—image. I promise you. Nothing more.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and fixed his gaze directly on her face. “So how in depth did he go, then?”

  Her brow furrowed and she shrugged. “I never really asked him.” Her face relaxed, though her brows lifted slightly. “But it’s clear he didn’t find anything threatening to Connie, or else he’d have told us.” She stepped over to the island and carefully placed the glasses there. “All he ever said about it to me was that, other than all those speeding tickets, you were a pretty typical single guy.”

  “Thanks,” he said with a tinge of sarcasm.

  “And that your car insurance must be astronomical.”

  That made him smile and he felt the tension leave his neck and shoulders. “Yeah, but after I nearly got my license suspended a couple of years ago, I straightened up. I haven’t had a ticket since.” Which told him that the publicist must not have been snoop
ing as much since that time. And what was more; Julie obviously had no knowledge about his biological father. Although, if the publicist had somehow found out—and it would have taken someone with at least FBI clearance to get the bank vault opened that held his mother’s diary without his or his dad’s knowledge—it was likely that he was sitting on that information in case Jason ever came forward with new evidence that might show him to be innocent.

  Yeah, telling the world that his real father was a rapist might just skew the public opinion against him for good.

  Jason took the flask from his pocket and unscrewed the cap. “So—as far as I’m concerned, we’ve talked about Connie.” While he poured a slow stream of the amber liquid into first one glass and then the other, he continued, “Since you’re more media savvy than I am—how do you propose that we ‘spin’ the story of why we’re working together?”

  Julie nibbled on her lower lip and then lifted the glass and took a small sip. It burned going down and she had to swallow an answering cough. “I don’t know,” she said, placing the glass back on top of the kitchen island and crossing her arms over her chest. “Let me think a minute.” She swallowed again, trying to sooth the liquor burn at the back of her throat a bit more.

  She really hadn’t wanted anything else to drink, but her ploy to diffuse Jason’s irritation at learning about Connie’s publicist’s nosing into his business had completely backfired on her when he’d followed her in here a few minutes ago. She would have dearly loved to keep that little gem to herself as well, but she couldn’t think of another way to convince him why she would trust him—other than admitting to having proof that he was innocent, of course. Yes, giving away that piece of unsavory information about the publicist had been her only good choice.

  And, thankfully, seeing his more familiar, relaxed behavior now, it had done the trick. “We could focus mostly on the financial benefits of our partnership,” she said. “You know, really press home how our enterprise is going to increase income in the entire community.”