A Better Reason to Fall in Love
Page 23
Jagger couldn’t resist her, and he kissed her again.
His mouth affected her like nothing ever had before! She was intoxicated—literally helpless his arms. She wondered how it was even possible that she still wanted to kiss him. After all, they’d spent hours walking around the city, kissing under street lights, by the river, on the ferry. The truth was her lips were chapped and the flesh around her mouth ridiculously chaffed from his whisker stubble—and still she wanted to kiss him.
At that moment, his manner of kissing her was purely seductive—slow—measured—powerfully alluring. She wondered how she’d ever return to everyday life! Of course, she wondered that every time she was with Jagger. But this was different. This was nearly a fantasy setting, and she would sorely miss it.
Suddenly, he broke from her, pushed her back on the bed of Regina and Mike’s Evangeline room, and said, “Get to bed, sugar petals. You need some sleep.”
“Why?” she asked, unwilling to give him up—even for the overwhelming fatigue in her limbs, the spongy sensation in her brain.
“Because tomorrow I’m going to show you the time of your life,” he said.
“But you already did,” she said.
He smiled. “Don’t be flirting with me, baby! I’m trying to stay out of trouble with my Maw Maw.”
He leaned forward, placing a fist on the bed on either side of her to support himself as he kissed her one last time.
“Go to sleep and get my mind out of the gutter,” he said. He smiled, stood straight, and added, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she whispered.
“Good night, sugar petals.” He turned and started toward the door. Slipping into a thick New Orleans accent then, he added, “And don’t you be wakin’ me up in the middle-a da night fo no sugar, baby. I need my rest if I’m gonna play yo keys all day tomorra.”
Tabby giggled as he closed the door behind him.
She collapsed back onto the bed and sighed. The room was fragrant and quiet—the fan on the ceiling spun round and round, slowly—and the taste of Jagger Brodie’s kiss lingered on her lips like confection.
Closing her eyes, Tabby could hear a saxophone somewhere in the distance. Its smooth, jazzy tone floated over the night like a sweet love potion, lulling her to sleep, as through her mind Jagger’s voice echoed, I love you.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Work had been miserable! All week long it had been miserable. Tabby wasn’t exactly certain why. At first she thought it was simply having return to real life after having been rapt in such a dream with Jagger in New Orleans over the weekend. Then she realized how little sleep she’d gotten and thought it might be sleep-deprivation at its worst. Still, it was more than that. She didn’t feel like working, and it seemed nothing could settle her down. All week long she’d felt that way, and she was glad Friday had arrived—that in one more hour she could go home and freshen up a bit before heading to Sweet Genevieve’s for Jagger’s set.
At that moment, however, it seemed like an hour might as well have been an eon. She couldn’t make herself do anything! She couldn’t concentrate. All she could do was stare at Jagger’s office door—wait for him to come out and smile at her on his way to whatever meeting he would be off to next. She’d seen him coming out of the HR office earlier and wondered what reason he could have for going in there again. She knew he couldn’t stand Mark Clark. Therefore, it couldn’t have been a casual social visit. She’d seen him head off to accounting and then to the ad department. Tabby didn’t know why she felt so tense and unsettled—just that she did.
“Are you okay?” Emmy asked, handing Tabby a new package of sticky notes.
“Yeah,” Tabby sighed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me this week. I just can’t seem to get into anything.”
“Anything but Jagger, you mean,” Emmy whispered.
“Exactly,” Tabby said, smiling.
“I know kind of what you mean,” Emmy said. “Ever since Naomi the crazy woman eloped to Vegas, gave her two weeks’ notice, didn’t even finish it out, and moved to Boston…I can’t do anything but count the days until Luke will be here.”
“I hear that,” Tabby said.
Emmy looked up to the clock and sighed. “Well, at least there’s only one more hour of prison.” She smiled. “I’m excited for the set tonight. Jagger’s gonna play his new song, right?”
“Yeah,” Tabby said. She smiled, feeling warm and calmer all of a sudden. “I’m in love with him, you know.”
“Really?” Emmy giggled. “I never would’ve guessed.” Emmy sighed. “Still, I’m not sure how many friends you’ll have left here now that you’ve taken old Iron Buns off the market.”
Tabby laughed. “Iron Buns,” she repeated. “How funny!”
“It seems like only yesterday we were sitting around here making up new names for Jagger Brodie’s cute butt,” Emmy whispered. “And now, like, seriously only weeks later, Naomi’s married to some Boston professor, Jocelyn’s not far behind with Mr. Cliff-Diving Abs Man, Luke will be home in a few weeks…and you’re jetting off to New Orleans every weekend to make out with none other than the Derrière-inator himself. It’s freaky!”
“It is weird, huh?” Tabby said as Emmy’s words began to sink into her consciousness. “Still, stranger things have happened, I suppose.”
“I suppose,” Emmy said. “Well, I’ll see you tonight. Okay?”
“Yeah,” Tabby said.
Emmy returned to her desk, and Tabby smiled as Jagger’s office door opened. He glanced around a moment and then winked at her and nodded toward the break room.
Tabby smiled as all her boredom, frustration, and impatience disappeared. Grabbing some change out of her purse, she headed for the break room. A moment after she’d stepped into it, she gasped as she heard the door close behind her—felt someone take hold of her arm and spin her around.
“I’m hungry,” Jagger growled, gripping her upper arms tightly. “I need a snack.”
Tabby giggled and let her arms slide around his neck as his mouth consumed hers in a powerful, passionate, entirely wanton kiss. It wasn’t a long-lasting kiss—for being caught making out in the break room would’ve surely found them both out on their fannies—but it was supremely satisfying!
“I’m heading to Maw Maw’s place early,” Jagger said as he released her and opened the break room door. “Will you be there?”
Tabby smiled, for she loved the way he always asked her if she would be there—as if he were somehow afraid she wouldn’t show up.
“Where else would I be?” she said.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll see you when you get there.”
“Okay.”
He leaned forward, quickly kissing her forehead and whispering, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Tabby breathed.
He was gone then, and Tabby shook her head, blushing as she saw Emmy slowly saunter into the break room.
“Well, well, well,” Emmy said. “And what have we here? You weren’t making out with the Derrière-inator in the break room, were you?”
“Maybe,” Tabby giggled, going to the vending machine.
“Admit it. I’m a psychic. I told you you’d end up making out with him in here, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did,” Tabby admitted. She shook her head, still astonished that she was Jagger Brodie’s girlfriend. “I guess anything really is possible, Emmy.” She smiled. “And I do mean anything.”
❦
“It’s beautiful, Joss!” Tabby exclaimed as she studied the diamond on Jocelyn’s finger. “Seriously, Armando, it’s so her. It’s so perfectly Jocelyn!”
“Thank you, Tabitha,” Armando said. “I searched many times for just the right one.”
“Well, it’s certainly the right one,” Tabby said. “Congratulations,” she added, hugging Jocelyn and then Armando.
“Thanks, Tabby,” Jocelyn squealed.
“So your mom and dad are here tonight?” Emmy asked Tabby.
“Yeah,” Tabby said. “Chloe’s dating Jagger’s cousin Rhett, of course.”
“Of course,” Jocelyn and Emmy interjected in unison.
“So Mom and Dad thought they should at least check him out,” Tabby continued. “Though I assured them Jagger gives him the okay.”
Tabby turned and looked to where her parents and Chloe were sitting at a table in the back.
“And there he is,” Emmy said as they all watched Rhett approach the table where Tabby’s family was sitting. “Yep…he’s refreshing Chloe’s drink, so to speak.”
Tabby giggled and elbowed Emmy’s ribs.
“Ooo! Your beefcake lover is back,” Emmy whispered, pointing to the stage.
Tabby smiled as she watched Jagger slip the strap of his electric guitar over his shoulder.
“We’re back,” Jagger mumbled into the mike. The crowd applauded.
“Wow! It’s packed tonight, huh?” Tabby whispered to Emmy.
“Totally!” Emmy agreed.
“Thanks for letting us take a break,” Jagger said. “I needed to get my nerve up to play this new song for you guys.”
Everyone clapped and cheered, shouting encouragements. Jagger smiled at Tabby, winked, and waited for the bass to tune up a bit.
“But before I try out the new tune on you…” Tabby smiled as Jagger ground the familiar five-note blues riff.
The crowd fairly roared with anticipation, and Jagger said, “I’m hoping you won’t mind if I sing the blues!”
Everyone applauded and whistled. The patrons of Sweet Genevieve’s had grown to favor Jagger’s clever blues lyrics. The band rocked a minute and then stopped cold. Everyone was quiet, waiting to see what Jagger would sing. To Tabby, however, nothing would ever top the night he’d sang about her—sang the bone-sexy redhead blues.
Still, she smiled and bit her lip with delight as he looked at her and began, “I’ve been doin’ some kissin’…with little you-know-who.” The crowd ooed and awed as Jagger pointed to Tabby. She blushed, entirely delighted. “That’s right,” he spoke. Then the five notes again. “Been doin’ some thinkin’…a little shoppin’ too…’cause that sexy little redhead,” he growled during the crescendo, “she just owns me through and through. I got it bad, Tabby Flanders…got it bad for you.”
The crowd cheered, quickly hushing, however, as Jagger continued. “You might think I’m crazy…and that is just fine…” Taking hold of the mike, Jagger’s eyes narrowed as his gravelly voice sang, “But pretty Tabby Flanders, I gotta make-a you mine. I got it bad, Tabby Flanders…got it bad for you.”
Tabby put her hands to her cheeks in an effort to cool her blush, but it was no use. And in that very moment, the true realization of why she’d had such a hard time at work hit her. How on earth could a woman concentrate on anything when a man like Jagger Brodie was waiting in the break room to kiss her—to tell her he loved her?
“Tonight I’ve been using…this here diamond guitar pick,” Jagger sang. “Just wait there, Tabby Flanders, ’til I finish this lick. I got it bad, Tabby Flanders…got it bad for you.”
Tabby frowned as her heart began to pound almost painfully in her chest—as goose bumps began racing over her body—as understanding, or at least hope in understanding, began to flood her entire soul!
She watched—awed as Rhett stepped up to take Jagger’s guitar as he handed it to him—watched as Jagger removed the mike from the mike stand and stepped down off the stage.
“In just a minute now I’ll be…droppin’ down to one knee,” Jagger sang as he swaggered toward her—as the crowd began to whistle. “Oh pretty Tabby Flanders, won’t you marry me?” he growled as he dropped to one knee before her, opening his free hand to reveal a diamond solitaire ring lying in his palm. “’Cause I got the marry me, Tabby…marry me, Tabby, blues.”
As Tabby gasped and covered her mouth with her hands to hold back the sobbing begging for release, the crowd whistled and applauded as Jagger’s guttural vocals ripped, “Oh yeah, people, now! I got the marry me, Tabby…please, Tabby, say I do!”
Tabby collapsed then—collapsed into his waiting arms in a mess of sobbing and tears of joy.
“Baby,” Jagger breathed into her hair, “will you marry me? Will you marry me, Tabby?”
She couldn’t speak—couldn’t rein in her joyous sobbing. She could only nod—only cling to him—disbelieving and believing at the same time. She felt him take hold of her trembling left hand and slip the ring he’d been using as a guitar pick onto her ring finger.
“Marry me?” he asked again.
She nodded, still clinging to him. “Y-yes!” she managed to breathe.
As Jagger wrapped her in his arms, he shouted, “She said yes!” and the crowd erupted with approval and well wishes.
“I love you, Tabby,” he said as his mouth hovered just over hers. “I love you, I love you, I love you! Marry me, and I swear I’ll make as many of your dreams come true as I can.”
“I love you, Jagger,” she sobbed as he kissed her. “I love you!” She looked up to him then—gazed into his eyes. “And you already are all my dreams come true.”
Jagger kissed her, and everyone applauded again.
“May I have your attention, please?” Rhett said from the stage. “Thank you. Thank you. Jagger has asked me to do him one little favor—to play his and Tabby’s song through the restaurant sound system…so here we go!”
As everyone quieted down, Tabby brushed the tears from her cheeks and asked Jagger, “We have a song?”
“Baby!” he said, feigning astonishment. “Are you kidding me? Our song? You don’t know our song?”
As the first few familiar measures began shaking Sweet Genevieve’s, Tabby laughed—cried and laughed at the same time! As Kenny Loggins began singing “Footloose,” Tabby melted against Jagger. The restaurant and club patrons cheered and fairly leapt to their feet.
“And I have one more surprise for you,” Jagger shouted above the music and cheering.
“What?” Tabby asked, wondering what could possibly make this moment more perfect.
“Watch this,” he said, turning her in his arms. “Look.” He pointed across the room, and Tabby gasped.
Emmy had her back to the door. She hadn’t seen him approaching—him—the soldier dressed in digital camouflage—Luke.
“Jagger!” Tabby breathed as she watched Luke stride toward Emmy. More tears spilled over her cheeks.
“I got lucky,” Jagger explained. “Luke called your cell the other day when you were in the ladies’ room at work, and I answered it. He wanted you to help him surprise Emmy. He fibbed to her…told her wasn’t coming home until late June…but…there he is. Surprise!”
Tabby watched as Luke tapped Emmy on the shoulder—as she turned around, squealed with delight, and leapt into his arms. Almost instantly, the soldier dropped to one knee, pulled a small box out of his pocket, and held it up, offering it to her. Emmy squealed again, wrapped her arms around Luke’s neck, and began kissing him on every inch of the surface of his face.
The place was hopping! Sweet Genevieve’s was literally alive with cheering, whistling, dancing patrons.
Turning in his arms, Tabby raised herself on her toes and passionately kissed Jagger on the mouth.
“I love you, Jagger. You have no idea how much!” she told him. “And you’ve taught me something.”
“What’s that, sugar petals?” he asked.
She smiled and brushed more tears from her cheeks. Gazing up into his eyes, she answered, “That if I’ve actually won the heart of His Royal Hineyness…then anything…absolutely anything really is possible.”
“I believe it,” Jagger mumbled against her mouth. “I absolutely believe it.”
Author’s Note
Sometimes the thing I need most is just a little lighthearted escape. I know the same is true for you too! Therefore, being that A Better Reason to Fall in Love was exactly that for me while I was writing it, I hope it was exactly that for you while you were
reading it.
And just to add a little more fun, I thought I’d offer these four little tidbits:
1. Anything is possible! Anything can happen! So just believe!
2. No one is perfect—and that it the truth. However, this is just as true—that everyone is perfect for someone!
3. Concerning the theory of six degrees of separation: In December of 2009, the average separation for users of Facebook was 5.73 degrees. That means that the 5.8 million members of Facebook can individually be linked to one another in less than six degrees!
4. And finally—for trivia’s sake—currently, my “Bacon Number” is three!
Ever lightheartedly yours,
Marcia Lynn McClure
My everlasting admiration, gratitude and love…
To my husband, Kevin…
My inspiration…
My heart’s desire…
The man of my every dream!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marcia Lynn McClure’s intoxicating succession of novels, novellas, and e-books—including The Visions of Ransom Lake, A Crimson Frost, The Rogue Knight, and most recently The Pirate Ruse—has established her as one of the most favored and engaging authors of true romance. Her unprecedented forte in weaving captivating stories of western, medieval, regency, and contemporary amour void of brusque intimacy has earned her the title “The Queen of Kissing.”