Hard Irish

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Hard Irish Page 9

by Jennifer Saints


  “Rocky,” Jared said, his voice soft and deep.

  She stopped and glanced back.

  “You can relax. I won’t be storming your citadel.” She nodded and turned away, but still heard his whispered, “Yet.” Her stomach clenched and heat flushed her every nerve. She tingled...everywhere, telling her that storming wasn’t going to be necessary. A hot breath would knock her over in a heartbeat.

  Jared nearly collapsed back onto the couch. At the moment he couldn’t even storm an anthill. He didn’t know what in the hell was wrong with him. He slid the Glock he’d pulled out at the sound of a stranger’s voice back into his overnight bag on the floor next to him. Then sweaty and shaky, he re-elevated his foot and drew in several deep breaths until the about-to-pass-out feeling dissipated.

  As sharp as Jesse was, the man would pick up on the least note of anything in Jared’s voice. Jared wanted to blame his rapid pulse and weak knees on the image of him falling to his knees and sucking Rocky’s “no” away, but was afraid the weakness stemmed from his leg.

  Either he’d passed his spring-chicken prime, or the damage from the planter was taking a greater toll on his system than he realized it would. Once steady, he dialed Jesse, hating the feeling that his big brother had had any right on his side. Jared had to admit that if Rocky was under assault at that very moment and he had to go balls to the wall to save her; there was a slight possibility his body wouldn’t hold up in the fight.

  That fact galled his gut and he wondered if he should bow out and let Jared send a “real” bodyguard. He thought about Rocky’s appeal and her vulnerable state and realized that the only men he’d trust to watch over her, would be one of his brothers. Maybe just Jesse or Jackson, one of his married brothers, considering the identical twin factor he shared with James, and hell, Rocky was one powerful temptation.

  That meant he had to get his shit together. No more narcotics. He’d take Tylenol to take the edge off and suffer. Pumped and ready, he called Jesse.

  “I didn’t think you’d call,” Jesse said as he answered his cell.

  “Didn’t want to, but you’re right. It makes sense and makes her safer, which is all that matters. Though you didn’t have to wipe my ass so thoroughly in front of her.”

  “Ha. Considering what you’re pulling, you need to have your ass reamed. Not wiped. Why the charade?”

  Jared glanced in the direction Rocky disappeared. “It’s complicated.”

  “Best keep the deceit rope short, it has a way of hanging a man really fast.”

  “I hear ya.”

  “So what’s the situation there?”

  Jared explained the security set up and the deadbolt situation.

  “I’ll send a man out in the morning to set up a perimeter alarm and change the locks. It’s on the house.”

  “It’s her house, so let me run it by her and let you know in the morning.”

  “All right. You need anything else? How are you feeling?”

  “Good. Not one hundred percent, but enough to handle the situation. I think we’re set for the night though. I’ll text you for the midnight check.”

  “That works. Have you spoken to James?”

  Jared winced. Considering the gist of their last conversation, Jared had been putting of getting in touch with his twin. “Not yet.”

  “I have. He said to tell you that last dollar bet was not only binding but he’d multiplied it exponentially. Care to explain?”

  “No. Damn, but he’s going to be a bitch to live with.”

  “That anything new?” Jesse laughed. “Don’t know what it is about twin-karma, but James called me this afternoon and hired us, too.”

  “For what?”

  “Seems as if a couple came bearing cash for your spec house. All great, but he got a strange vibe. They’re in such a rush that he wants to know why. I’m running a background check on them before any formal papers are signed.”

  “Can’t hurt. Maybe we need to do that on Rocky’s ex.”

  “Do I look as if I just fell off a turnip truck? This is my business. That’s already in the works, along with the man’s father, Roxanne’s business partner. We should have a report by midday tomorrow. Do you know her father suffered a stroke about a month ago and is coma-bound in a nursing home? She’s been officially in charge of the company since, but from what we’ve uncovered, she took charge about eight months ago when they were skirting bankruptcy. Seems she turned the company around.”

  “Christ. I didn’t know about her dad. But after seeing her in action on the jobsite, I have no trouble believing the company’s turnaround. Thanks for the heads up.”

  “I’m not done yet. She also runs a free summer camp for kids to teach them about construction. She won the Savannah Women’s Society humanitarian award last year.”

  Jared swallowed hard. Jesse’s tone of voice was as hard-assed as he’d been at church yesterday. “So what are you saying?”

  “You’d better be there because you care and not because you’re looking for a fuck.”

  Jared gripped the phone; sure the damn thing would crack in two. “I’m not sure if I want to plaster your face or buy you a drink. Maybe both. Who the fuck do you think I am?”

  “A Weldon who just might have woken up and seen the light. We’ve all been in no-man’s land, bro. Let me know if you run up against anyone we need to look at.”

  Jared drew several deep breaths. Not sure he liked all of the shit swimming around inside his gut and his head. “I didn’t say it earlier so I’m saying it now. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Try and avoid being a landing pad for concrete missiles, okay?”

  “I plan on it. Meanwhile how’s that matter that had James so wrung out yesterday?”

  “Still in the stratosphere of implausible. But I’ve taken and will take every precaution. Just so you know, I’m taking dad out fishing this weekend and had planned on asking you to join us, but that’s out of the picture now.”

  “We’ll do it when I’m back on my feet.” Rocky came back into the room. She had a menu, a bottle of Tylenol, and a drink in her hands. Gifts from the gods. Jared mouthed a thank you in her direction. “For now I’ll text you at midnight and talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Right. Good night.” He disconnected and smiled, taking the drink and the Tylenol from her. He took two extra-strength tabs and downed half of the Gatorade. “Jesse offered to set up a perimeter alarm and change your deadbolt locks for free in the morning. Is that all right, or would you prefer he doesn’t?”

  Her expression became puzzled. “For free? Why would he do that? I mean, I’m not even a paying client and he doesn’t know me at all.”

  Jared shrugged. “That’s Jesse and his wife Alexi. If there’s a need, they’re going to fill it.”

  “Like you?” she said, moving closer and sitting on the sectional so she could face him.

  “Me?” He frowned. Philanthropy was so not a part of his living-it-up-bachelor life.

  “Yeah. You. Last night. Today. You keep stepping up to the plate. Why?”

  Talk about laying things on the table, but that was how she played her cards. Direct and honest. That last thought clogged his throat. He took a long drink then met her curious gaze. “You,” he said softly. “Do with it what you want, but I looked across the bar last night, saw you and couldn’t look away. I’m hoping I am here with you now because you feel it too. The attraction that goes beyond a second glance but dives immediately into a hungry want, but there’s time to sort that out when exes and planters aren’t dive-bombing you. Right now, I am starving for food. I think all I’ve had today was a cup of coffee early this morning. So what kind of pizza do you want? If it has sauce and cheese, I’m good with anything.”

  “Anchovies?”

  Jared held back a flinch. He’d never had anchovies and imagined they’d be similar to salty sardines with a crunch. Something he’d eat if he were on a desert island and starving, but to mix fishy with his cheese didn’t sit right.r />
  She laughed. “You should see your expression.”

  “What? I didn’t express.” Surely he had a better poker face than that.

  She lifted a brow, adding to the mischievous gleam in her green eyes. “You look like a kid facing spinach flavored ice cream.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “Do you like anchovies on your pizza?”

  “No.”

  Hell. “Then why bring them up?”

  “Just testing. You did say anything. I’m flexible on the pizza, pepperoni, supreme, spicy BBQ. My one must is garlic bread with extra, extra, extra cheese.”

  “You’re a triple-X woman then.”

  “What?” Her voice rose several octaves, almost as if she were guilty, and it was his turn to laugh.

  “When you like something then you don’t just want extra. You want extra, extra, extra. Wanna wager a bet that I can guess what else you like triple-X of?” He lowered his voice to a deep rumble.

  She swallowed as if parched and her pupils dilated. She might play life close to the vest, but a little gamble flipped her switch.

  “What?” she whispered.

  “You asking what I want to wager or what do you like?”

  “Both.”

  “Wager first. At a time of my choosing, I’ll bet you a repeat of last night’s kiss that I can name some things you like extra, extra, extra of.”

  “Hmm...make it a time of my choosing and you’ve got a bet.”

  He frowned. Now what? She could wait three months and he had a good night kiss in mind for tonight. Still, a guarantee on a kiss at some point was better than no guarantee. And a wager didn’t mean he couldn’t talk her into one on his timetable. “You’re on.”

  “Okay. Mr. Anything-but-anchovies, what do I like?”

  He studied her a minute, thinking. “You like your salsa extra hot, your beer extra cold.”

  “Anyone could guess that,” she cried, rolling her eyes.

  “Not finished yet. You like extra whipped cream, extra fudge topping and just a pat of butter won’t do. There’s more but...” He raked his gaze down her body and back up. He had a feeling her sensual side had a few extras to it, too. “Am I wrong?”

  “I decide when,” she muttered and marched out of the room.

  “Hey. What about the pizza?”

  “Read my mind.”

  “Sa-weet.”

  An hour later he wondered how he’d missed the thin and crispy crust option. It wasn’t bad, but on a scale of one to ten he’d rate it a four. He liked crust he could sink his teeth into, not something that disintegrated the moment he put it in his mouth. After five pieces he hadn’t even scratched the surface of his hunger. Next time he’d have to proceed with caution on the pizza front.

  As for the triple-X cheese bread, it was thick and chewy, and definitely not a first date food. What she was doing with her tongue and all of that stringy cheese had him on his knees. Well, practically on his knees. At the moment he didn’t dare stand or kneel. His jeans were a bit too tight for any movement. They sat side-by-side on her soft-as-a-bed couch. He could feel the heat of her body, smell her citrusy coconut scent, and imagine licking every inch of her honey tanned skin. All it took was a heartbeat for her to transport him from an invalid on the couch to steamy-sex-in-the-sun.

  Hell, he shifted his good leg to ease the pressure of his fly. With his injured leg, straight out and propped on a pillow at the far side of an over-stuffed ottoman, he didn’t have a lot of spare room for a hard on. And it was embarrassing as hell in some respects. You’d think he was a teenager watching his first X-rated movie. Spread out on the rest of the ottoman was the pizza and cheese bread boxes along with glasses of icy Coke on a metal tray. He snagged his glass and took a long, thirsty drink. Something had to cool his ass down.

  “So what is your brother James like?”

  Jared coughed and Coke fizzed up his nose. Not the cool down he had in mind. A napkin and several gasping breaths later he finally wheezed a response. “What...do you...mean?”

  “Just curious. I’ve met Jackson and Jesse. So wondered where James fit into the mix. Is he older or younger?” She grabbed a piece of cheese bread and paused for his answer.

  Damn, how had James popped up already? He sucked in air and prayed that this conversation didn’t go far. He didn’t want his misleading white lies to keep growing. “James is a lot like me. Honestly, he is exactly like me. We’re identical twins.”

  She almost dropped the cheese bread she was about to bite into. “Seriously? That’s...just so cool. Here I envied you your older brothers and you have one closer to you than anybody. Do you like the same things? I’ve heard that twins separated at birth end up following the same career paths and having the same likes and dislikes.” She bit into the cheese bread.

  He shrugged, trying to unknot his tongue from telling any lies. He and James had followed the same career path—in construction. The one topic he did not want to get near. “Some things are the same, but I’d like to think—”

  A long string of cheese hung between her moist lips and the gooey bread in her hand. She opened her mouth to nab more of the cheese and he lost his restraint. He wrapped his finger around the far end of the cheese string, pulling it from the bread.

  Her gaze shot to his. He smiled a challenge as he leaned forward and slowly slid the tip of his finger into his mouth, catching the cheese string with his tongue. Then he ate his way toward her mouth. At the last inch, she stuck her tongue out and stole the last bit of cheese away and smiled like the cat that ate the canary, but was facing a bulldog. He got the feeling she was seconds away from bolting. What sort of number had her ex pulled on her?

  He didn’t want her wary. He wanted her eager and hungry. But for the life of him he couldn’t gather the will to back off without at least tasting her lush mouth. He closed the inches separating them and pressed his mouth to hers, easing his tongue across her partially opened lips. Sweetness spiced with pizza.

  That was it. All he could consciously steal at the moment. He eased back and took a bite out of her cheese bread then retreated to his space.

  She blinked at him. “That was my cheese and my bread.”

  “Yep. And your hot mouth, too. Mighty fine if I may say.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “I thought we had a deal. I got to choose when we kiss.”

  “You do. If you remember I specified a kiss like we had last night. That means you on top of me. My arms wrapped around you. My hands in your silky hair. And every inch of your hot body pressed hard to me. Everything else is fair game in my book. And next time we order pizza we don’t get thin and crispy. I like having something to sink my teeth into.” He let her know with a look that he wasn’t necessarily talking about pizza.

  “You do? I can call, Dessie. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind running over quick.” She bit into her bread and stood up.

  He sank back against the couch. Dessie? Why the hell would—”

  “Pebbles has a jar of ‘teeth sinking’ gourmet dog biscuits, if you need—”

  “A dog biscuit?” Laughing, he snagged the waistband of Rocky’s jeans and tugged. He couldn’t remember that last time he’d been so thoroughly put in his place. It felt...great. Off balance, she fell back into his lap. He winced as he jarred his injured leg and her bottom pressed against his unmistakable erection. “Seriously though, all joking aside. You can feel my interest, so there is no point in denying that I want to get to know you a whole lot better than I do, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable either. So, tell me now. Am I pushing too hard, too fast?”

  She burst out laughing, a real heart-free laughter that came from a spirit unhampered by ghosts. The naughty gleam in her eye made him realize what he had said.

  He actually felt heat flush his cheeks. He wasn’t about to examine if he was blushing or having a hot flash at the idea of pushing hard and fast into her soft heaven. “Let me rephrase that. Am I making you uncomfortable? Before you answer, let me just say that I’d eat a dog bi
scuit if it means you’ll laugh like this again.”

  She stopped laughing and looked at him seriously for a moment. “I think that might be the-”

  “Funniest thing,” he interjected. “The funniest thing anyone has ever said to you, right?” He interrupted because he had to. If she had said “the most romantic” or “the sweetest” or “the anything” besides funny, he would have likely kissed her again.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Funniest. I so needed to laugh.”

  Jared took heart. She didn’t ask him to cease and desist as she levered up from his lap. He leaned back into the couch and relaxed a little, having skirted the sensual edge of things enough for now. “My mom has been known to say that love and laughter can heal all ills. That and wringing her dishrag.”

  “Just exactly how does a dishrag help?” Rather than bolt from the room as he suspected she was warring over, Rocky sat back down on the couch, albeit a little further away than before. He picked up on the fact that talking put her at ease and he started talking, likely saying more about his mother to Rocky than he’d ever said to another woman. “Maybe it would be better to call it her prayer rag. Taking care of four growing boys, she spent a lot of time in the kitchen and given we were all hell on wheels. Literally. I don’t think there hasn’t been a bike, a skate board, a tractor, a motorcycle, a car, a truck or you name it that one of the four of us hasn’t crashed. So she also spent a lot of time praying while in the kitchen and over the years the dishrag became her rosary of sorts. That’s not to say that she couldn’t snap a mean wet towel at our bare legs when we got out of line.” He laughed. “But in general, to this day, whenever we see her with a dishtowel in her hands we know she’s praying for one of us.”

  “You are so blessed. My mom was different. Very loving, but different. She—” Rocky shifted her gaze to the end of the sofa, bringing to his attention an open book. The name McKenna jumped out at him.

 

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