Damn. Now, he’d offended her.
“I barely know you,” she said.
“Emily, I’m sorry. I went too fast.”
Never before had he lost his head with a woman. With her, he felt things he thought he never could. It was as if he was compelled by some force to brand her as his. He liked just breathing and sitting beside her.
“Don’t pull away and grow uncomfortable. I promise not to touch you if you don’t want me to.”
She continued to stare out over the water.
He’d messed it up now. “This is out of character for me,” Jack said, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
“You don’t kiss like a gay man.”
“Why do people keep thinking I’m a homosexual?” He took a breath and turned her face to look into those pretty eyes, not allowing her to respond. “I’m not gay. I like women.”
Her pupils widened, and her stance relaxed, but her hand was still balled between them. “What about Lawson? The Flaming Flamingo?”
“Lawson? We’re coworkers is all. The Flaming Flamingo was recommended to us, so we took a room.”
“Recommended?”
“By your raven-haired friend from the sale on Sunday.”
She chuckled and gave him a toothy smile. “That sounds like my sister-in-law, Kimber. She’d do that, but why would you guys fall for it?”
“Not me. Lawson’s the smitten blind one. Besides, it was in our budget,” he lied, not wanting to admit they’d all fallen for the bait the spirited Kimber had set. He ran his hand through his hair. “Who cares what the other guests do? It’s not in my bedroom, so I don’t mind.”
“So let me get this straight.” She angled her body toward him and tucked one leg beneath her. “You’re not gay, and you followed me from the sale.”
Grinning, he raised his hands next to his head. “Guilty as charged. But you did have a job for me.”
True enough, he didn’t need to elaborate just yet. Reading her expression, Jack guessed her resistance and the no employee dating rule was quickly fading. He ached to kiss her again but would wait for her to decide it was okay.
“So much has happened in the past few days. I never expected to be in this sort of situation, needing to explain myself over and over, and having very little control of the circumstances.” He ran his thumb over her palm. “In the most inopportune moment of my life, I find you.”
“Oh my God. Are you sick? Are you dying?” Her voice cracked and her face paled as she vocalized the thoughts.
“No.” Jack laughed and closed his hands over her warm ones now clenched in her lap. “At least I don’t think so. But thanks for caring.”
“Then why were you all serious and pensive? Are you into something illegal?”
“No, nothing like that either. I actually work for the government,” he said reassuringly and shook his head.
For some peculiar reason, he was struggling with the desire to tell her what had happened, but he knew, no matter how accepting she was, she wouldn’t want to hear that he’d been ricocheted seventy years through time. He didn’t see any evidence of time travel in that paper he’d read from beginning to end in the hot sun this morning.
“Are you an escaped convict?” she asked.
“No.”
“Are you wanted by the law?”
He considered the previous day’s events and wondered if borrowing the MB qualified. “Not that I know of.”
“Are you, or have you ever been, under psychiatric care?”
This question was harder. If he answered truthfully, she would wrongly suspect he had mental issues.
She spared him the dilemma. “Jack, have you ever been diagnosed as mentally unstable?”
“No! My God, Emily. What are you thinking?”
A small smile curved on her lips as she asked the next question. “Do you have any contagious diseases I should know about?”
“No.”
She lifted her arm and splayed her fingers into his hair. “Then stop talking and kiss me.”
Her soft lips met his, and he needed no further invitation. He claimed her tempting mouth and kissed her deep.
Entwining his fingers in her hair, he pulled her head back and exposed her neck. He nipped on the tasty treat as he breathed in her intoxicating scent. “Does that cute little house of yours have one of those big beds?”
She laughed and stood, taking his hand into hers. “Come see for yourself.”
* * * *
Emily snuggled closer and placed a kiss beneath his jaw. He liked the feel of her long, beautiful leg interwoven with his and smiled as she ran her palm over his chest. Jack groaned and stretched his legs to make room for her over him.
“You shouldn’t stir the embers if you want to sleep, sweetheart.”
“Why?” She played with the hair on his chest and scattered small tender kisses over it. “It’s the first time I’ve have a man in my bed since Jen was born. And she’s at her grandpa’s, I think I’d like to take advantage of you. Unless, of course, you’re too tired. Are you tired?”
She fit herself atop his body and rose up on her hands, pressing her heat against his erection and rubbing her moist center from the base to the tip of his cock.
His fingers gripped the rounded flesh beneath her waist, and he adjusted her hips so he nudged her opening. He entered her in one smooth move.
“Mmm, you’re a talented man.” She licked her lips and lowered her mouth to his. “A girl could get used to three times in a row.”
“I’m counting on it.” His hands splayed over her curves, and he set a tempo that would have them riding to ecstasy with the intensity of the first time.
She sat, took in his full length to the base, and rounded against his thrusts.
“Touch yourself,” Jack said, giving her room to play with the tight collection of nerves at the top of her sex while his palms cupped her soft breasts. He reached up to suckle her, wanting to hear her luscious moan fill his ears.
She didn’t disappoint him. The melodic sound escaped her perfect mouth.
“Emily, I can’t get enough of you. Every time I have you, I want you again.”
She laughed, a sensual and erotic laugh, and rolled her head to the same rhythm her hips moved and her finger circled her clit. “You’re so beautiful, so very beautiful,” he said, replacing her hand and caressing her hard nub.
Her long flaming hair brushed over her pert nipples, and he gathered the silk into his other hand.
A quake rumbled deep within him as she fell over his body and offered each breast to him in turn. He devoured them like a starved man, and fanned his fingers over her rounded bottom as she rode him.
He felt like a twenty-year-old, able to bury himself inside her warmth repeatedly and want more. Everything he’d been through was worth the look of erotic bliss on her face.
A neat line of teeth bit the soft pink lips he’d drank from for hours. Her gaze melted like chocolate, inviting him to sink in.
Her breath was short and rapid as Jack thrust upward. Her body tensed and she trembled in his arms as she came undone and her pleasure squeezed him like a glove.
Rising to bury himself deeper, he needed more. He held her as the first tremor passed, then tenderly flipped her onto the mattress.
Thrusting deep, he lost himself in her. She clamped around him, the spasm of pleasure ensuing again. As she moaned her delight, he gathered her in his arms and spilled his release within her.
* * * *
Emily placed the mugs on the counter and dropped a sugar cube in each. Stirring the coffee, she added milk and picked them up to carry the coffee into the bedroom.
A sleepy and tousled Jack grinned his appreciation. “Good morning, gorgeous.”
She handed him one of the cups. “I’m not sure how you like it.”
“I like it anyway you chose to serve it, as long as you give it to me with that sexy look on your face.” Taking the mugs, he leaned across the bed and placed
their coffee on the nightstand. “Now come and give me a proper morning greeting.”
His strong, sculpted arms were the most welcoming sight she’d seen in years. She fell into them and crushed her lips to his. Her hands snaked under his shoulders and her mouth trailed down his neck and over his chest. Tasting his potent male flavor and the soap from their midnight shower had her senses singing with hope of more. When her tongue swirled over his tight abdomen, his fingers tangled in her hair.
“Don’t we need to open the restaurant?” he asked, a guttural sigh escaping his throat.
She continued her oral exploration of the body she’d become intimately acquainted with the night before.
“It’s Monday,” she said, raising her eyes to meet his dark gaze. “Ricky and Betty open.”
He smiled sheepishly and pulled her over him before pivoting her beneath him. Covering her with his body, his hands paved the way for his lips, and he began his own exploration, mumbling a single word. “Perfection.”
* * * *
They strolled up to Emy’s Place at a quarter to ten. Outside the door, he dropped his hand from her waist. “Okay, beautiful Emily, time to transform into foxy boss lady.”
She gave him a sly smile, then pulled on the front door. “As long as you’re aware that your job description includes taking me home each night and bringing me back to the restaurant satisfied each morning.”
“A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do to earn a living.” He leaned closer to her ear. “We need to stop by a drugstore on the way home.”
Emily smiled at the gentle reminder. She’d been so wrapped up in Jack that the idea of protection had taken a backseat to passion the previous night. Once she’d realized the omission, she’d mentioned it to Jack and they’d agreed to use condoms in the future. No fear of disease. Nothing in the past to haunt them. Stupid? Maybe, but she didn’t doubt him. Although pregnancy, even if highly unlikely for the time of the month, was something that did worry her. She didn’t want to raise a second child without a father.
“Morning, Em and Jack,” Betty called from behind the counter.
“Hi, Betty. How’d everything go this morning?” Emily asked, reaching the older woman and kissing her cheek.
“Fine here. I want to know how things went for you, sweetie,” Betty whispered in her ear.
Emily met her gaze and raised her eyebrows. “Great. Just great.”
Smacking her on her behind, Betty giggled and bobbed her head. “Nice to hear. Now see if you can get the captain to stick around.”
“Captain?”
“That’s what they call the people who fly jets.”
“Mm, interesting. He flies jets for the government.” Emily nodded her head and watched the man who’d colored her night saunter into the kitchen.
“His friend was in awe when he saw his captain busing tables the other day. The other man asked me about Jack’s job and was more than a little amused that Jack was taking orders. Jack this, Jack that, Jack really throws himself into his mission, and so much more. Handsome boy, if I must say. Well mannered, too.”
“That’s right. Kimber brought Lawson in.” Emily couldn’t see how her sister-in-law knew the men. Maybe it was work related. “I have to ask her about them later.”
“Oh, I don’t think she was with him. She took off in the car by herself. Jack’s friend headed down the road on foot.”
“You don’t miss a beat, do you?” Emily smiled at her good friend.
“Try not to. Especially when it concerns my girls.” Betty tucked a towel in the band of her apron. “Now tell me about Captain Jack. You have a very bright twinkle in your eyes this morning.”
“Amazing.” She shrugged and raised her gaze to the ceiling, wrapping her arms around her middle in a tight hug. “He’s easy to talk to, sexy, smart, sexy, handy and oh sooo sexy. The best part is he doesn’t pretend to be sticking around. They’re probably on a two-week leave or something.”
“And you think he needs to supplement his income in his spare time?” Betty pointed out how peculiar it all sounded.
“I don’t know.” She walked behind the counter. “Okay, so something doesn’t fit. But he’s still amazing. I’m old enough to enjoy a physical relationship and not want anything more.”
“You are, sweetie. However, don’t think you can’t depend on any man. They’re not all like Jen’s dad, Bret, or like Jonathan, Greg and Tony.”
“You’ve just listed the reasons I don’t want a man to depend on. Not one, other than Pops, has ever been there for me. I’m not setting myself up for a fall again.”
Betty placed a hand on her hip and sighed. “Okay, sweetie. I just think Jack is different.”
“Whatever it is, it is.” Emily didn’t need to continue the conversation. She wasn’t taking the risk. No matter how much she liked him. “I have to tie up the loose ends for Pops’ party. When the waitresses come in to interview, please send them to the office.”
Using a black elastic tie, Emily pulled her hair back and walked away. She wasn’t about to lean on any man because he was phenomenal in bed. And no, men were not made like her Pops anymore. Today’s man wanted to be taken care of. He didn’t care to look after anyone else.
She stomped into her office and slammed the door.
Men were full of shit. They never stuck around. They never owned their responsibilities. Men had disappointed her every time she’d allowed them to get close.
“Screw it! I don’t need a man to count on.”
Picking up the phone, she dialed the handyman who’d constructed the stage for the party. No answer.
“Typical.”
He’d delivered the half-finished structure last week then vanished. It now sat in the carport behind the restaurant waiting to be finished and installed.
Flipping the Rolodex, she dialed the caterer’s number. He answered on the third ring.
“Pierre here.”
“Hi, Pierre. It’s Emily Mitchell.”
“Oui, oui, ma chère. Comment t’allez vous?” He breathed into the phone.
Actually, Pierre’s name was Pedro Ortiz. His family was from Cuba, and he’d been trying to get into her pants since the first day he’d moved to Marathon. He did nothing for her libido, but he served the prettiest and tastiest pâtés in the Keys.
“Just fine. Thanks for asking. I’m calling you to confirm the menu for Saturday’s party.”
“Oh, chère Emily. Tsk, tsk. You were supposed to let me know last Saturday, and when I didn’t hear from you, I thought you’d changed your mind. I just agreed to do Mrs. Goldman on the same night.”
“Pierre!” Typical, just typical. “How am I going to make enough appetizers to feed half of Marathon?”
“I would do anything for you.” He drawled in a bad accent, taking his sweet time.
She could picture him playing with the thin strip he called a moustache and smirking. “It’s kind of late now. I’ll have to figure something out.”
“Non, non. I will come to you after you close, and we will work together, side by side, just like a well-oiled machine, into the wee hours of the morning. We’ll create masterpieces together.”
She pictured him panting and sweating, his beady eyes undressing her, and his hands groping any part of her he could reach. Left alone with the horny pseudo French chef, she’d have to use the butcher knife to keep him at a distance. She let out a long breath.
“Thanks, Pierre. But I couldn’t impose.”
“Non, non, ma chère. I will stop by at ten tonight. No charge. It’ll be my pleasure. Believe me.”
She did believe him, but couldn’t take the chance to piss off the best caterer in the Keys. “Oh, I’m honored. Thanks so much for the offer, but I can’t make it. I’m going out with my boyfriend tonight.”
“Tsk, tsk. It just never seems to be the right time for you and me. Call me if you change your mind. D’accord?”
She’d change her mind when pretty pink pigs flew high above her head. “Su
re. Talk to you later. Thanks again.”
Returning the receiver to the base, she cradled her head in her hands. How was she going to pull off the party’s menu and still enjoy herself?
Jen was in school for the rest of the week—not that her daughter could boil water without burning the pot. No doubt, Kimber was chasing some scar-faced bad guy to get her jollies off. She was on her own.
Chapter Eighteen
The knock at the door interrupted Emily’s wallow in self-pity. She smoothed her hair and stood. “Come in.”
“Hey, Em.” A young blonde-haired woman entered. “Good to see you.”
“Gemma.” Her heart skipped a beat. Elated to see her cousin’s best friend enter the office, she rushed to her and wrapped her arms around the girl. “Glad to have you back from school. How’d the semester go?”
“Four point oooooo!” Gemma dropped her hands and took a step back, letting her gaze travel over Emily as she asked her to twirl. “And might I add, you look marvelous, darling. Shoot, Em. You’re glowing. Does it have anything to do with the man-candy in the kitchen?”
“Gemma,” she warned, letting an embarrassed laugh overtake her. “Our new dishwasher’s name is Jack. And man-candy or not, he’s leaving in two weeks.”
“Too bad,” the young woman teased, flopping onto the couch. “He’d sure make the slow week around here go by faster.”
Ten minutes of girl talk and getting caught up tamed Emily’s nerves.
“Come on.” She took Gemma’s hand and pulled her toward the planner sprawled on her desk. Pointing to the red markings she’d made in the slots, she shook her head. “I could use your help, if you’re looking to make some spending money. I need you and a friend, if you can persuade one, for Pops’ party on Saturday. And I need you in here as often as you’re willing to stay off the beach.”
“Sounds good.” Gemma rubbed her hands together. “Can I work while Jack is here, too?”
“You can start right now.” Emily placed a kiss on the girl’s cheek. “Thanks, honey.”
“No problem. And if you promise to make me some of your delish sugar cookies, I’ll leave Jack for you.”
Bought His Life Page 13
