by Mandy Baxter
“Oh, I’m not wrong,” Kristie replied. “And I think I owe you a big thank you. Four Dallas Cowboys parties in less than a week. Bring on the man candy!”
From the French doors that led out to the patio, Jase Blackwell stared over the heads of everyone in the kitchen, those light-brown eyes zeroed in on her. A pleasant shiver rippled from the top of Avery’s head and slid down her spine. His back had been turned to her when she’d first walked into the kitchen, but even so, her heart fluttered when she’d recognized the defined muscles, the curve of his neck, and shock of tawny hair that was just the right amount of messy. When he turned and noticed her? Her knees had buckled. His effect on her was undeniable.
After a week of thinking of nothing but the sexy football star, how pathetic was it that she’d known him with his back turned to her? Their gazes locked and his lips spread into a slow smile. It was that wicked, confident, I-get-what-I-want-when-I-want-it expression that had nearly curled Avery’s toes when they’d first met.
“Look at the size of his hands,” Kristie said under her breath as she started to unload the boxes. “How would you like to have those palms cupped around your ass?”
Avery could think of worse ways to spend an evening. “Pro ballers are notorious for screwing around.” It was better to remind herself of why Jase Blackwell was off-limits rather than entertain any fantasies about what it would be like to have his hands on her. “Would you really want to subject yourself to that sort of revolving-door hookup, Kristie?”
“He could revolve my door anytime.”
Avery laughed. “Gross.”
“What? Are you seriously trying to tell me that you wouldn’t let the Billion Dollar Blackwell ring your bell into the wee hours of the morning if you had the chance?”
She’d had the chance. Sort of. And she’d sent him packing. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t you feel self-conscious? I mean, the guy must get propositioned by hotties all the time.” Women a thousand times more put together than she was. “I’d be so worried about measuring up that I probably wouldn’t enjoy myself.”
“You’re a total hottie, Avery.” Kristie nudged her hip into Avery’s as she took the foil off a pan of sliced smoked brisket. “You already measure up.”
Avery wiped an imaginary tear from her eye and sniffed. “And that is why you’re my BFF.”
“Damn straight,” Kristie said. “A girl can dream, right? I say go for it, Avery. When are you ever going to get another opportunity like this again? Live a little! In fact, I dare you to go after him.”
Avery had never been one to back down from a challenge and Kristie knew it. She had to admit, she was tempted. What could it hurt to spend a little quality time with the gorgeous pro football star? As long as she went into it knowing that it would never be anything more than a casual one-night stand. She continued to ready serving platters for the night’s fifteen guests, and Avery was careful to keep her eyes on her work. The urge to look up, to search the kitchen for any sign of Jase was almost too hard to resist and she didn’t need to complicate her life by chasing after something that was out of her reach. But, oh man, she couldn’t help but think that a night with Jase Blackwell would be one she’d never forget.
“Okay, I think we’re ready to roll.” Avery’s boss, Peyton, breezed into the kitchen, a fluttering mass of excited energy. She loved her job and it showed, but Avery could have done without the hyperactive flapping of arms as she ushered her and Kristie toward the patio.
Here goes. Try not to spill anything … Nothing conveyed professionalism like dumping a plateful of barbeque on one of the dinner guests. But the second she walked out onto the tiled patio, her hands began to shake. Abort! Abort! Was it too late to turn around and head back for the kitchen? Probably. Damn it.
She felt Jase’s eyes on her without even having to look up to confirm the fact. His gaze burned through her, igniting all of her nerve endings until her skin tingled with a pleasant warmth that settled between her thighs. She tried again to remind herself why it wasn’t a good idea to give in to Jase Blackwell’s advances but her body was giving her a hell of a counterargument.
“Holy crap, Avery. He’s eyeballing you like you’re his next meal. Rawr.” Kristie nudged her with an elbow as they returned to the kitchen to grab the side dishes. “How many times has he asked you out?”
“Since last week?” Avery said. “Three.” At every dinner party he’d thrown, he’d asked her out at the end of the night. And Avery had turned him down each and every time.
“And you haven’t accepted why?”
That was a good question. Avery set a tray of brisket on the buffet table and followed Kristie back into the kitchen. She grabbed the king-sized bowl of potato salad and headed for the patio. “I’m really not sure if it’s a good idea or not.”
Kristie came up behind her carting a pot of baked beans. “Let me answer that for you, Ave. It’s definitely a good idea.”
Across the expanse of the well-manicured lawn, Avery caught sight of Jase from the corner of her eye. He was chatting up a group of guys and their dates, or wives, or whatever, but somehow, she felt his attention on her as a vibration that traveled the length of her body. Every inch of her was painfully aware of him, dialed in to his exact location like metal seeking out a magnet.
What would it hurt to give in to her attraction? Even if it was just for one night?
Again, she caught his eye from a distance and her breath caught at the intensity of his stare. Her heart clenched at the thought of what it would be like to be discarded by a man like Jason Blackwell once he was done with her. She didn’t think her self-esteem would be able to take a hit like that. He could throw a million dinner parties for all she cared, Avery wasn’t going to give in no matter how charming—or sexy—he might have been. Jase Blackwell was simply going to have to remain one item on her bucket list that went uncrossed.
Distance was the only option.
THREE
“Come on you piece of junk. Start!”
If ever Avery had wanted to firebomb her own car it was right now. Kristie and Peyton had already taken off for the night, leaving Avery officially stranded. And apparently dead was the theme of the night because when she fished her phone from the bottom of her purse, she found that it had rolled over and kicked the bucket sometime in the past few hours as well.
Great.
She stared through the windshield at the looming three-story mansion that was Jason Blackwell’s house. The place was a castle in comparison to her own modest apartment. Avery’s stomach clenched at the thought of knocking on the door and asking him for help. Wouldn’t that be the icing on tonight’s cake? She rested her head against the steering wheel and let out a groan. A do-over would be so welcome right about now.
Avery squealed at the sound of a knock on her window and her head snapped back from the steering wheel with the force of a rattlesnake strike. Her heart jumped up into her throat and her fear slowly transformed to annoyance when she came face-to-face with Jase’s smiling countenance. Glad I could entertain you. Ugh.
“Car won’t start?”
Avery rolled down the window, cringing at its squeaky protest. “Oh, no. I just like to round out a night of waitressing by hanging out in customers’ driveways. It’s sort of my thing. You don’t mind, do you?”
Jase laughed and the sound rippled through Avery’s body, settling low in her abdomen. She hadn’t felt that sort of spark in a long time. And it scared the crap out of her. “Believe it or not, that wouldn’t be the strangest thing a woman has done in my driveway.”
Avery gave him a wry smile. “Somehow, I wouldn’t doubt it.”
Jase opened the car door and Avery stiffened. For some reason the barrier of the door between them put her at ease. As though protecting her from the image of perfection on the other side. She was willing to bet those feathery locks were silky soft. He was so tall that it looked uncomfortable for him to hunch down to eye level with her. His body just seemed to go on forever
. And when he smiled … sweet Jesus. A rush of liquid heat spread from her belly outward, bathing her in delicious warmth. If a grin made her feel that good, she could only imagine how his hands would make her feel …
“Far be it from me to interrupt a woman’s post-waitressing rituals, but if you want, I can give you a ride home.”
As she saw it, Avery had two options. One, she could ask Jase to use his phone and call Kristie to come pick her up. In which case, she’d be alone with him in his house. Two, she could let him drive her home. In which case, she’d be alone with him in his car. Crap. Either way they’d be alone together and Avery seriously doubted she’d have the willpower to turn him down again if he asked her out. Holy crap, she was sure her cheeks were flushed from the heat in his gaze. The rest of her body sure as hell was.
“Avery? I’m sensing a moral dilemma. It’s just a ride home. I’m not asking you to knock off a bank with me or anything.”
She cocked a brow. “What? You mean that’s not what this is about? I brought along a black catsuit, a ski mask, and everything. You know, just in case.”
Jase’s resounding laughter melted Avery’s insides. “Oh, sugar. I would pay good money to see you in that getup.”
It was a joke of course, but the way his voice got low and husky with the words caused Avery to shudder. His accent even got a little thicker, slow and sweet like honey fresh from the comb. She wondered what it would be like to hear that voice low in her ear, whispering passionate, dirty things and Avery shifted in her seat. Just thinking about sex with Jase made her body burn and her clit throb. If the simple thought of him made her wet, she could only imagine what the real thing would be like.
She gave a nervous laugh. She could talk a good game, but her snark was a shield she wore to hide the lack of confidence she felt on a daily basis. “I doubt it would be too impressive. I bet you’d pay more just to get me to take it off.” Oh god. “Wait. That came out wrong. I don’t mean that you’d want me to—Not that I think you’d want to see me—” Could the seat just fold her up and swallow her already? “That’s totally not what I meant.”
Jase’s answering amusement rippled over her, open and good-natured. “I’d say something to that but somehow I doubt I could give you a response that wouldn’t get me into trouble.”
Avery grinned and her cheeks flushed with renewed heat. “Probably not.”
“Okay, so how about that ride? Or would you rather camp out in my driveway until someone sends a search party out for you?”
She let out a slow breath and tried to slow her racing heart. “Thanks. A ride would be great.”
Jase extended his hand and his palm swallowed hers as he helped her out of the car. He held on just a little too long, the lingering contact causing sparks of sensation to tingle along Avery’s nerve endings. She cleared her throat and he gave her a sheepish grin as he released her hand, which she rubbed against her thigh. As though the simple act could banish the sensation of his touch. She’d need to cut her hand off at the wrist for that to happen.
Jase led her into the garage that was at least twice the size of her apartment. The contents were a gearhead’s wet dream: a Maserati parked at the far end, a Harley-Davidson toward the rear, and a vintage ’67 Corvette in mint condition occupied the center space. Jase didn’t pay them any mind as he made his way toward the older-model Chevy pickup in the far right bay. It seemed so out of place among the other cars and high-priced toys. Caked with mud and much too practical and lusterless, like a rock nestled in a bed of diamonds.
“This poor truck looks like it’s run the gauntlet,” Avery remarked as she opened the door. What was it with Texas boys that they all had to jack their pickups up a mile off the ground? She was going to need a damned stepladder to get inside. Even up on her tiptoes, she couldn’t grab the oh-shit handle on the frame to hoist herself up. “For some reason,” she grunted as she reached up again, “I doubt there are many mud bogs around this swanky subdivision.”
A quick yip escaped Avery’s throat as strong hands encircled her waist. Jase’s hands were so big that the tips of his fingers almost met, and he lifted her up into the truck as though she were nothing more than a rag doll. “Sugar, you’re just barely knee high to a grasshopper. You sure you don’t need a booster seat to ride up front?”
Holy cats, he was killing her. Pouring on that Texas charm, it’s not like he knew that sort of good-natured teasing turned Avery’s insides to Jell-O. No, that was just Jase’s personality, and it wasn’t doing anything to cool her lust. Looks and personality? He was almost too good to be true.
“As if I haven’t heard that one before.” She forced herself to tease back. To hide the fact that she was nervous and sweating bullets from the attention. “Come on, Blackwell. You can do better than that.”
“A challenge, huh?”
He stretched out the seat belt and leaned over her to buckle it, his arm brushing against her breasts. Avery inhaled a sharp breath as her nipples tightened beneath the cotton fabric of her bra. “If you want to call it that.”
“You do realize that I have an insane drive to win at all costs, right? Challenge accepted.”
* * *
Nothing got his blood up like a little healthy competition. And as Jase rounded the backside of the truck, his blood was damned near humming in his veins. For the fourth time this week, Avery had all but ignored him through dinner, intentionally avoiding his gaze. After dinner, she’d kept to the kitchen, cleaning up and packing it in quicker than a pony heading for the barn. By the time he’d ushered the last of his teammates out the door, she was gone. But the automotive gods had been smiling down on him tonight. He was going to kiss that little junker of hers on the bumper when he got home. This was just the opportunity he needed to get to know her better. And already he found her irresistible.
Even in the dim light of the cab, Jase noticed her body language change the closer they got to her apartment. Their conversation dwindled, no longer playful as Avery devolved to answering his questions in one- or two-word sentences. She was uncomfortable. But why?
“You probably don’t come down this way much.” Her voice was quiet as she spoke toward the window. “My part of town is a far cry from million-dollar mansions with car dealership–sized garages, huh?”
That was the reason behind her change in attitude? She was embarrassed? “Avery, believe it or not, but I was so poor growing up that there were days my brother and I had to share the same lunch. We didn’t have much, and Mom would pack one sandwich and a banana if we were lucky. My brother Luke and I would fight over who got the bigger half. I swear,” he said with a laugh. “More than once I thought about gnawing my own arm off. I was always hungry.”
Avery turned to look at him, her green eyes luminous in the dark interior of the truck. “Really?”
“Oh yeah. We were dirt poor. My dad was a worthless son of a bitch and I spent a lot of years gettin’ teased for my older brother’s hand-me-downs that barely fit. And for the record, cozying up to your twin while you share a sandwich isn’t exactly something that’s gonna keep a guy from getting smacked around. My brother Ryder saved our family. After Dad left, he picked us up by our bootstraps and turned our ranch into a cattle empire. Thank god, too, because by the time I hit high school, I was eating seven meals a day.”
It wasn’t a story he told often. In fact, if you asked the sports media, Jase was nothing more than a spoiled rich kid who’d not only bought his way onto his college team but into the NFL as well. And even though he didn’t know Avery very well, he sensed that her social standing—poor neighborhood, junker car, waitressing job—bothered her. Jase never thought of his money in terms of it giving him a leg up over anyone. Rather, he valued it more because of what he’d had to go without when he was a kid. And likewise, he tried to share the wealth, donating to charities, schools, libraries, whenever he could.
“Were your hand-me-downs too big or too small?” Her tone had regained some of its pluck, putting a smile on
Jase’s face.
“Too small. Ryder is only four years older than me and by the time I was fourteen, I was already bigger than him. I don’t know what my mom was thinking. Really, Ryder should’ve gotten our old clothes.”
“I didn’t know you had a twin.”
Jase laughed. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of the infamous Lucas ‘Lucifer’ Blackwell.”
“Should I have?”
She had to be shitting him. When it came to bands of female worshipers, Luke took the cake. “He’s the lead singer of Riot 59. Girls happily throw their high-priced panties at him on a damned near daily basis.”
“Sorry, I’m not familiar. Do they sing country music?”
As if Luke would be caught dead singing a country ballad. “You’d think so, but my brother is all about the angsty rock. Sensitive like Coldplay, One Republic, but edgy and retro like Bastille with a little punk flavor. At least, that’s how he describes it. Probably why the ladies love him.”
“That’s quite the musical combo,” Avery said with a wry smirk. “But if he’s your twin, I doubt it’s just his musical chops that have the girls swooning.”
Jase couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease her. “Are you sayin’ I’m pretty, sugar?”
Her eyes met his for a brief moment and Jase’s breath hitched. “I’m saying that any woman with eyes in her head would be hard pressed not to look at you, Jason Blackwell.”
Hot. Damn. The sound of his name on her lips was as sweet and rich as whipped cream. Her intense emerald gaze was enough to stir his cock and the damned thing pressed against his fly like it was trying to escape the confinement of his jeans. This was a bad idea. The temptation to do something reckless was too great. Jase didn’t want to scare Avery off. But damn it, all he could think of was getting her closer. On top of him would be good. Naked, even better.
“Take a left here,” Avery said, pointing to a small apartment complex. “My unit is in the second building, one-B.”
