by Amber Scott
He saw Claire’s intentions went beyond just physical. He didn’t know what they were exactly yet, but he would find out. And maybe, spending time with her, clothed and in public, would lead him to the truth.
Any way it went, the end could only be good, even if it wasn’t all he wanted, right? It had to. Meeting Claire by the light of day didn’t count as another betrayal. Plus, Ashley knew Claire already hung out with him once.
Right?
He shuffled to get his things together and leave. Ashley lay asleep on the sofa, Lawrence’s lap as her pillow. Lawrence waved and then put a finger to his lips. Jace nodded and slipped out the door, his pulse hammering nails.
**
Claire slipped out of bed, glad for Oliver’s hangover. Thank goodness for small—or in this case, huge—favors that came like this one. Oliver could be counted on to sleep his headache away at least another two hours.
Time to put plan B into action.
By the time he awoke, she’d be nibbling nachos with Jace. This was so much better than meeting last night. This way, Claire could really test the waters. She had to know if what they had before still existed.
Past the attraction.
It took her no time to shower, primp, and, with a short note on Oliver’s bedside table and another on the fridge, sneak out the door. She placed a third Post-it missive on the orange juice, but that might be too suspicious. Two said that she didn’t want him to worry. Three said, “Do not call me!”
She didn’t want to hurt Oliver. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. But, this was her only shot. She had to take it.
With that firmly in mind, Claire drove away, refusing to look back even when movement from her and Oliver’s bedroom window caught her eye.
~~
Chapter Sixteen
“I think I have a plan,” Millie said and held the stuffed file folder over to AJ.
He gave her one of his usual skeptical looks—eyebrow down, generous lips pushed out—which made her wonder why she hadn’t spent the last seven years kissing them every single day. He set down his coffee and joined her at the breakfast bar. “Were you up all night?”
“Of course not,” she said. Three a.m. counted as morning, and waking up with an idea too good to resist, she’d hopped right to it. “But, hey, snooping never sleeps. That should be out new motto. The snooping was fun for once, too. Instead of staring at page after page, praying something—anything—would jump out at me and scream ‘that one!’ I actually enjoyed this research.”
AJ sipped his coffee and opened the file. “Why are you researching Ashley Fletcher?”
“The question you should be asking me is ‘why wasn’t I researching her before?’. I mean, I picked her as my way in to Jace’s life for the long term, buying me time and a way to know the whole family and help to mend their relationships, yet not once did it occur to me to look into her file.”
He shook his head and ran a hand through his bed head hair. “She’s already matched, Millie. And you already are in...eh...wait....no. Don’t tell me you think...nevermind.”
Oh this would be so much easier if he guessed exactly what her idea was. “What? Nevermind what?”
He pinned her with his velvety, chocolate colored eyes. “You cannot tell Ashley what you are.”
“Exactly my—why not?”
“You know why not. You’ll be screwed. Don’t think they aren’t watching ever single choice you make.” He stood up and slapped the file, totally unnecessarily, back down on the bar. “Don’t make me spell this out. I won’t.”
She should have fed him first. Millie hopped up and followed. “If I can convince Ashley to help me, I can match Jace and Claire and still salvage the family relationship. Please, AJ, let me walk it through. I’ve been up for hours going down each path, making sure this would definitely work.”
“No,” he said, sitting on the sofa, putting his feet up.
She sat next to him, close, dangerous attraction be damned. She’d go ahead and kiss him if it meant he’d listen. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Your sentence gets knocked back to six. Your sentence doubles that. My sentence gets knocked back, too.” He leaned toward her, tucking her chin so that she looked him in the eye. “I get reassigned.”
Millie slumped many inches, feeling at one with the dust mites down in the cushions. Maybe she should have slept on it. “But, how could they reprimand me that severely if I’m fixing my own mistake? It’s Karma Court for Christ’s sake. Do unto others and all that shit. I’m fixing it.”
“Fix it? Yes. Tell anyone what you are? Millie, you must learn to have more faith in yourself. You can do this. All on your own, if you truly wish to.” His gaze lingered on her mouth, and for several long seconds, Millie thought he must be thinking the same thing she was. How many kisses could they be catching up on?
He let her chin go and leaned back into the sofa, flipping on the TV.
“You should wear a shirt,” Millie said, grumpy over him ending the moment.
AJ winked and stretched his arms over his head so that each rippling line along his lean waist and V-shaped chest begged for a touch. She looked away.
Mille chewed her lip a minute, her defeat easing up. Ashley was such a perfect candidate. The woman kept a secret diary detailing the lives of four tiny fairies whom she talked to her whole life. Classic imaginary-friend thing. Ashley would believe her. Ashley would want to protect her family, and yet also do the right thing. Ashley believed in love. “What if she guessed on her own?”
His single sardonic eyebrow was answer enough.
“Right, well. Forget it, then.” She needed a nap. Or more coffee. Or some psych meds because the longer she thought that last part through, the more she decided she might just have a loophole.
* * *
Her hands were shaking almost as badly as her nerves. Claire shoved them into the back pockets of her jeans. They would both be hidden; plus, the push would accentuate her hips and waist—she needed every asset she had right now—and walked to the café door. Jace was inside somewhere, watching her, waiting. She could feel it.
Ashley had not only proved to be the best choice, she also proved to be a wealth of knowledge—given almost too easily. If Claire didn’t know better, she would say that Ashley knew about her and Jace, and was playing matchmaker. But, then with all the family gossip that came with the information she’d been after, she had to dismiss it.
Claire now not only knew where Jace worked—teaching by day, bartending on weekends—but he hated eighties hair bands, watched Underworld every year on his birthday—and not for Kate Beckinsale. She knew that their mom obsessed over Marilyn Monroe conspiracy theories, and that Davis’ love life included sordid details and a child he was raising alone.
Wow. That was the family she wanted to be a part of? Yes. Eventually, she’d find a way to fit in to such a tight clan.
Feeling Jace’s gaze on her made it difficult to keep her features smooth and relaxed. The last thing she wanted to do was come on too strong. She’d already done that and scared him off twice now, since fate seemed to have brought them back to each other. But not today. Today, she was in charge and prepared, even for the worst.
She opened the glass door, paused as it closed behind her, and let her eyesight adjust to the dimmer light. When she glanced around the room, she spotted Jace immediately. She almost felt where he was before laying eyes on him. He had his hands laced and up at his mouth until Claire waved. Then he jerked his hands apart and gestured toward the table.
Claire strolled to the corner table near the back, hoping that every switch of her step and every swing of her long hair were being noticed. And not just by the guy at the register. She reached the table. Jace’s eyes flashed, widening for the briefest moment as he stood up. Her confidence faltered. She could do this; she had to, and, wow, was this man worth it.
How had she ever walked away six years ago? How had she not gone straight to Tyler and told him exactly how she
felt, and then begged for his blessing?
She didn’t know, but she wouldn’t repeat that mistake now.
“Hi,” she said and eased into the chair.
“Hi,” Jace answered, sitting too and pursing his lips, but that boyish grin of his snuck through anyway.
Claire put a hand to her belly when it quivered, then smoothed her shirt to hide her nervousness. “Thanks for coming.” A flash of images from last night formed in her mind’s eye at her words, but she refused to blush. Images of Jace holding her high, his mouth on hers. If that knock hadn’t come, how far would that kiss have gone?
All the way.
Their first time would have been up against a wall. Heat flashed over her neck and cheeks.
Jace nodded. “It’s a cool place. They have an open mic night.”
She had to remind herself what he was talking about—the café. Another round of images surfaced: the hard feel of his arms under her legs, the full, soft way he kissed, even at the hungriest moments. The look in his eyes. A look not so far away from that now.
Jace grinned, reaching down and scratching his calf. “Ever been?”
“To the open mic? No. Too, um, honest and vulnerable for me.”
He nodded. “Even as an audience member?”
She wondered if he had some other meaning. “I guess it would depend on who was performing? On who I came with?”
He nodded knowingly this time. Damn it. Had she brought Oliver up without meaning to? Claire crossed her legs. “Regardless, I love this place. I found it the week I moved here.” She was careful not to say “we.” It was mostly true. Oliver was with her that first time, and for every gift card purchase since.
But only that many.
Jace’s gaze intensified, emotion showing in his cerulean eyes. “When?”
“When did I move back? A year ago. Well, almost a year now.” She hated the question and even more so, her answer. Yes, she’d been here for some time and no, she had not tried to find Jace. But, she didn’t want today to be about her mistakes. “You look amazing.”
Jace leveled her with another hot stare. “So do you.”
A waitress took their order, including the Strawberry Sin dessert, Claire’s favorite and hopefully, an ideal yet subtle seduction tool. Large, ripe strawberries, chocolate dipping sauce, three kinds of chopped nuts, and a pile of freshly whipped cream. If she could pull it off, that is. Whipped cream up the nose and seeds in the teeth probably wouldn’t work quite as well.
Claire swallowed, forcing her mind back on track.
“You found it without any trouble?”
Jace nodded. “I live near here.”
“Oh?” Why did that fact hurt a little? “Where?”
“Two miles north of here.” His gaze fell to Claire’s mouth, then tore back up to meet her eyes. “Close.”
“Wow.” Why couldn’t they have run into each other a year ago? Claire shrugged one shoulder, struggling to find something to say. “I mean, I’m glad it was easy for you.” If only everything else were, too.
Jace smiled wider and leaned forward a bit, baring a bit of tanned skin and hard muscle. Claire fought to keep her hands on the table instead of shoving them under her thighs—or worse, reaching over just to touch him. She had to take this slowly.
“Do you want to see it?” Jace said. The beginnings of a five o’clock shadow showed on his jawline as he tipped his head. “My place, I mean.”
Claire gulped. She wanted him. Again and again until her body collapsed, crying for a reprieve from pleasure and touch. More than that. She wanted that night. That sunrise. His fingers tracing her palm. She needed to know that wasn’t a lie. But she would not push. “Of course. I’d love to,” she said, going for a tone that sounded easygoing, like, sure, anytime. Not, yes, please, now.
Even if that was what she meant.
Jace straightened, the fabric of the T-shirt straining. Claire rubbed the back of her neck soothe the heat running over it. Her body beat with something more than her pulse, though that was there, too, drumming. Jace opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it. The waitress arrived with their cappuccinos and strawberries.
Swallowing a groan, Claire smiled at the young woman and reached for a strawberry. Jace did too, and their fingers collided. Jace’s hand went still, and his gaze fixed on their touching hands. He relaxed his, making it bump hers even more. He wanted her? He wanted her to push him, thereby taking the choice out of his hands? A prove it sort of test? She’d bet her grandmother’s pearls on it.
She’d never played Spin the Bottle. She’d hardly ever in her whole life took a dare. But this was playing for keeps. She had to be bold. Claire swirled the fruit into the small pot of chocolate and brought it, dripping, to her lips.
Claire couldn’t meet Jace’s eyes. Porn style wasn’t her. But he was a man, and he wanted her. So she ate the berry slowly, sucking the chocolate off with care, closing her eyes to the sugary taste and smooth heat.
Sweetness exploded into her mouth when she bit, awakening every taste bud. Chocolate dripped down her chin. She let it, feeling Jace watched her. She chewed slowly, wiped the chocolate, and sucked it off of her finger.
“Wow,” she said and looked up. “Don’t you think?” Jace was staring at her, eyes heavy lidded and glassy. His hand hung in midair, holding a strawberry above the whipped cream, partly dipped.
Claire’s breath caught in her throat—or was that her heartbeat? Her senses buzzed with anticipation. Jace looked down.
Oh, no. Had she gone too far?
Jace closed his mouth, bringing Claire’s gaze to the original source of all these years of incomparable want and need and longing—his damned perfect lips.
They gave Claire ideas that only grew more vibrant since she’d tasted them, felt them, and knew that no others matched. In trying to sweep Jace away, she found herself spinning her own web of seduction. His mouth, his broad shoulders, the lines at his eyes—oh, those eyes!—now intent on her, pinning her with naked desire.
Jace’s eyes lowered, but the gesture didn’t break the spell. Instead, Claire felt drawn closer to him. The air somehow warmed around them. Or was it only that the space between them seemed to pull?
“Why did you ask me here, Claire?” he asked, dunking his strawberry.
How honest should she be? What could she say? “I guess I just wanted to see what it was like. Just you and me, with nothing to do but sit here.”
“And eat,” he said, plopping the chunk of fruit in his mouth.
She laughed a little. “Yeah. And eat.” This might be her chance. “I wanted to see if I’d remembered it all correctly.”
He chewed, swallowed, and picked up another berry to toy with. “Remembered that night correctly, you mean.”
“Yes,” Claire said, the relief it brought catching her by surprise. “I keep wondering, was it all in my head? Was it just because we were younger and a little drunk, or was it bigger than that?”
“Or, did we make it bigger than it was?”
“Yes. I mean, how would we really know, unless ....”
Jace nodded, wiped his mouth, and leaned back in his chair. He seemed to be mulling it over. God, he looked so good. How could one twin do this to her, when the other looked exactly the same? Jace did, though. He sent her mind into a spin, and her body into a flutter. She’d never had anyone do this to her.
Ever.
His silence made her nervy. She hadn’t meant to put the question up for decision. She’d just wanted to see him. No, that was a lie. She wanted to keep him. She wanted to feel him. She wanted to lie naked in his arms and know—really, really know—this was real.
“Can we ... uh,” she said, her building attraction encouraging her to ask what she swore she wouldn’t. “Can I come over?”
Jace bit into his strawberry, a strange gleam in his eyes. He chewed at length, tipping his chin down, unnerving Claire with his stare.
Claire refused to squirm. He might say no. He might walk away and nev
er look back. She might leave here crying, but she could leave knowing that she’d tried. Fully and truly tried.
* * *
Could she come over? Hell, he’d already practically laid out the welcome mat and handed her a key. But he found himself unable to answer, so stunned by the instant physical need to claim Claire.
Her question made him feel carnal. Primal.
Jace was insane, completely and utterly crazy, for even considering taking Claire home. This was supposed to be about him hearing Claire out, to finally know what her intentions were. From the moment he’d spotted her outside the window, all he could think about was getting her naked. With her every move and every word, the idea took on new life, sucking logic away.
Every time he saw her, it got worse. Last night should have been a splash of cold reality. He could not do this. Not without knowingly hurting Tyler.
Then she spoke the words that destroyed Jace’s resolve.
How stupid of him to think he could resist this woman. Her eyes bore into Jace’s, searching for an answer. Jace’s body hardened under such bare heat. But a small voice whispered for him to ask, to—
“What about your fiancé?” His voice sounded faraway even to his own ears.
Claire lowered her lashes, making shadows under her eyes. When she looked up again, her eyes were shiny. “His name is Oliver,” she said softly.
Pain shot through Jace’s heart. “What about Oliver?”
Claire shook her head, reached out to take his hands. He pulled them away.
“I didn’t know, Jace. I didn’t admit to myself, until that day in the shop, what you mean to me. I’m trying to do what I should have done six years ago.” Her voice fell away, emotion seeming to choke any other words that may have followed. “But I’m new at this.”
