Soft Spot: A Hale Street Novella

by Amy Knupp

  "Maybe sometime I can show you more," he said, and there might've been a hint of suggestion in his voice. Maybe. Or it was entirely possible she merely wanted there to be.

  With their hands still clasped, he led her to the super-secret door, and she tried to convince herself that she hadn't, just two minutes ago, been ready and willing to do him on the gym floor.

  Chapter Twelve

  Smitten. That was the word Jackson's smug sister Kennedy had called him when she'd heard, from Hunter Clayborne, that Jackson had been to Clayborne's twice in the past week. Smitten with Asia.

  As he was about to open the main door to the bar yet again, he acknowledged that it could be true.

  Making his way across the old wood-plank floor, Jackson scanned the room for the petite blonde who'd rarely been far from his thoughts since he'd taken her to his house.

  Not spotting her on the main floor, he glanced upstairs as he sat on one of the stools at the counter. There she was. And there it was — the pounding of his heart, as hard as if he'd just finished a workout. She was heading down the stairs, her blond hair bouncing with every step. Beneath her half apron, she wore bright shorts — blue, pink, green, and some other colors that would scare most people off from wearing them — paired with a hot pink tank and beige sandals. He could see, even from his place at the other end of the room, silver earrings dangling from her ears and a three-inch stretch of her arm covered in an assortment of bracelets. She dressed the way she decorated her apartment, and though he'd never considered himself a color connoisseur, he was becoming a fan of her multi-hues. Even better was the smile she sent his way when she noticed him.

  She held up a finger indicating she'd come talk to him in a minute and then set about entering something, maybe an order — a long one — into the register. Once she was finished, she rushed around the corner into the kitchen, and he heard her hollering something to whomever was cooking. Finally, she came back out and hurried halfway down the bar to the soft-drink machine, iced up some glasses, and set two under different flavors to fill automatically.

  "Hey," she said as she turned toward him, blowing her hair out of her face and smiling again. "Crazy morning. Has anyone helped you yet?"

  "Just got here."

  "I'll get him." Von, the bartender who'd been working the last couple times Jackson had been in, finished mixing a frozen drink.

  Asia stepped closer to Jackson's spot and, looking apologetic, said, "Party of twenty upstairs. Keeping me hopping."

  "Don't worry about me," he said. "Guy's gotta eat." And food was always better with beautiful scenery.

  She whisked back over to the machine, set the two full glasses on a tray, and stuck two more under the spigots, then told Von she needed two Tequila Sunrises and a Bloody Mary.

  "You got it, hon," Von said. "As soon as I get something for this guy." She stopped in front of Jackson with a friendly smile. "What would you like today, Jackson?"

  He ordered a reuben, a basket of pretzel bites, and a Guinness, and as soon as Von moved away to put the order in and make drinks for Asia, who'd gone upstairs with the tray of soft drinks, he noticed someone sliding onto the stool to the right of his.

  "Hey, Jackson," Vegas said, setting down her drink and leaning her forearms on the bar. Her long, curly strawberry-blond hair was pulled into a pile on the back of her head, with strands framing her face. "What's up?"

  "Hey, Vegas. Grabbing some lunch. You?"

  "Same. What's up with you and my sister? Are you stalking her?"

  He laughed. "Couldn't pass up the reuben special."

  "The food here is surprisingly good," she admitted. She swirled her half-full glass in a circle, causing the ice to clink. "Is she still giving you the runaround?"

  Jackson sat up a little straighter, startled by her directness. "Which runaround are you referring to?"

  "She said you asked her out more than once and she kept telling you no."

  "I stopped asking, so she hasn't rejected me for a couple weeks." He shot her a sheepish grin.

  "Progress," Vegas said dryly. "She requires some patience."

  And that sounded similar to what Asia usually said about Vegas.

  "You two seem to care a lot about each other even though you're so different," he said.

  "Yeah." She ran her palm up and down her thigh, below the frayed cuff of her cutoff shorts. "We've been through some stuff. Maybe she told you— No. What am I saying? I'm betting she hasn't told you much about our mom."

  "Not a thing." Jackson tried to play it off as if the subject wasn't of great interest to him. How had they not talked about her immediate family? He was pretty sure he'd told her, at least in passing, about his parents, who'd moved to Phoenix a few years ago, and she knew his sisters.

  He waited, but Vegas didn't expand. Von set down his basket of food and his beer and then rushed off with a "Let me know if you need anything else."

  "Is there something I should know about your mom?" he finally asked.

  "Oh, she's a peach," Vegas said in what he gathered was a falsely upbeat voice. "You should ask Asia sometime."

  "I'll do that."

  "So you're still interested?"

  "In your sister? I'm here, aren't I?"

  "Making sure it's not really the reuben. I'm gonna go check out the bookstore on the corner. Good to talk to you, Jackson."

  Before he could attempt to learn anything else about Asia, Vegas had slipped off the stool, squeezed Jackson's forearm, and called out, "Bye, A," to Asia, who was picking up baskets at the kitchen window.

  Twenty minutes later, Jackson was done with his lunch. Some people would consider this a wasted trip because Asia hadn't had time to talk to him, but it was no hardship to watch her scurry around and do one of the things she was damn good at.

  After he'd paid his bill, he waited until she came back down the stairs again, and then he caught her eye and waved, not wanting to interrupt. She signaled back for him to wait, so he did.

  Hunter came out of the back, Asia spoke to him for a few seconds, and then she was walking toward Jackson. Smiling, and what that did to him… It was like a sunbeam shining down on him through a thick cloud cover.

  "Hi," she said in a low voice that made the greeting sound more intimate than it should in what was now a bar full of lunch customers. "Are you leaving?"

  "Von isn't nearly as fun to talk to as some people."

  She nudged into his side. "Yeah, Hunter's been busy all morning between deliveries and crises and customers," she said, being, he suspected, intentionally dense.

  "Guess I'll just go home."

  "I'll walk you to your car. Where are you parked?"

  "Struck it lucky. A block away. So, are you ready for your move?" He opened the door and let her go through ahead of him. The August midday heat beat down on them, and he squinted in the brightness, wishing he hadn't left his sunglasses in the console in his car.

  "I'm ready to stop sleeping with my sister. And yep, everything's in boxes except the last-minute stuff."

  "So we're on for Saturday? Eight o'clock?"

  "You know you don't—"

  "Asia," he said, "I know I don't have to. Aren't we past that yet?"

  She looked only slightly chagrined. "It's going to be a lot of work."

  "I've been working out," he said. "Building up my muscles just for the occasion."

  As they walked along the sidewalk, she made a point of checking out his upper arm, squeezing his biceps. Tilting her lips to the side, she nodded and said, "Those'll do. So … did my sister behave herself?"

  "Didn't even try."

  "What? Really? What'd she say?"

  "She questioned my intentions regarding you. Called me a stalker. Told me to ask you about your mom." He threw that in there to gauge her reaction, to see if there really was something to learn about her mother.

  Judging by the way Asia slowed her step and stiffened, there was.

  "Vegas needs to grow up," she said, recovering almost instantly.
"Sorry about that. That's yours, right?" She pointed across the street at his car, parked along the opposite curb.

  "It is." He was certain they'd taken ten steps backward in the last thirty seconds. Time for damage control. Somehow.

  As they jaywalked toward his driver's-side door, he took a deep, silent inhale, prepared himself for rejection, and wove his fingers with hers. When she didn't pull away, he breathed out as they reached the car. Going on instinct — and maybe some desperation — he gently pressed her between his body and the door, then cupped the sides of her face in his hands.

  "My intentions toward you are as honorable as a Boy Scout — well … maybe not quite Boy Scout level, but all above board. Stalking is a little strong. And you don't have to talk about your mom until you're ready."

  Before she could argue with any of it, he kissed her. Hard enough to make her forget whatever she'd been about to say. In broad daylight, in the middle of the street. He'd meant it to be short and emphatic, but then he tasted her, felt her response, heard the sexy sigh in her throat, and he got caught up in her.

  He forced himself to come up for air and dared to look down at her.

  "Okay then," she breathed out. "You mean that?"

  "Mean what?"

  "All that stuff you just said."

  He racked his brain for anything before that kiss. Her mom. Right. "Of course."

  She nodded. Glanced down at her feet. "I can promise you I'll never be ready to talk about my mom. But as long as you're not feeling totally honorable toward me, we can forget you ever brought it up."

  He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. "It's a deal. I'll see you Saturday."

  Chapter Thirteen

  As moving days went, today had been, hands-down, no question, Asia's absolute favorite. Even though there'd been problems getting the right keys when they'd showed up with the first load. Even though she and Vegas had dropped a coffee table down about four stairs and dented the crap out of it. And even though her sister's furniture collection had, once again, done its best to break several people's backs. In spite of all that, the day had been, well, one of the best Asia had had in a while.

  Because … Jackson.

  It might be unwise, but she liked him. A lot. She could no longer even pretend she didn't. He was funny and kind and considerate and strong and so damn delicious to look at, even when he was sweaty and tired. Plus there'd been that panty-burning kiss in her walk-in closet when he'd caught her standing in it, marveling at all the space.

  They'd gotten everything in — most of it even fit, though Vegas could barely walk in her bedroom — they'd assembled the beds and made them, dug out the bathroom linens and the bare necessities for the kitchen. Then they'd had pizza and drinks, lemonade for Asia and beer for Jackson, Vegas, and Abraham, one of the guys who worked with Vegas and had helped them today.

  "Anything else we need to tackle tonight?" Vegas said as she and Abraham came in off the balcony.

  The thought of tackling even so much as throwing away the paper plates was painful. "I think we've done everything we need to for now," Asia said. "The rest will wait until tomorrow."

  "Or next week." Vegas walked over to the doorway to Asia's bedroom — which looked out on Hale Street just like the living room did—and peeked in. "Your room is huge."

  "My room only has three pieces of furniture in it."

  "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'll have to sell some things," Vegas said. "Abe and I are taking off."

  "Where are you going?" Asia said, and as soon as she said it, she heard how life-controlling it sounded, though she'd only asked out of interest and a little bit of awe that they had the energy to go anywhere.

  "Abe's brother is having a party. Gonna see how the college crowd lives."

  "Have fun." Asia held in the be safe on the tip of her tongue. "Thanks for the help, Abe."

  "No prob," the tall, skinny guy said. "Later."

  As he and Vegas walked out, he put his hand on her back, and Asia wondered if her sister was getting involved with the guy. He was nice enough, but stable and positive influence were not words she'd use to describe him.

  "You worried about her?" Jackson asked, making her realize she was frowning at the door.

  "She's a big girl." Asia stood, gathered the used paper plates — all four of them — and took them into the compact kitchen to throw away. Jackson was right behind her, carrying the empty beer bottles. "Yes. I'm worried. She doesn't make the best decisions."

  "Living here will be good for her," he said as he drained the bottles in the sink. "But it'll take a while to make a difference."

  "You're right." Asia leaned back against the counter, setting aside her sisterly concerns for now, watching him line up the bottles so she could recycle them later, once she bought a bin. "Jackson…"

  "Yeah?"

  "Thank you." She couldn't help herself; she crossed the narrow space to him and closed her hand around his where he rested it on the counter. "I never in my life thought I'd say this about a move-in day, but today was verging on fun."

  With his free hand, he brushed the fallen strands of her hair behind her ear, then trailed his thumb over her cheek. "Only verging?" he asked, grinning.

  A few more touches from him and the day could likely be upgraded to fabulous. The digital clock on the stove told her it was getting late, after nine. She was exhausted, and Jackson had done even more hard labor than she had. He and Abe, stable or not, had acted like moving machines, tackling the heaviest pieces and loading and unloading twice as much as the girls.

  "You're probably ready to get home to Galileo and your bed," she said. And then a thought struck her. They'd been at his house earlier to empty out the garage storage loft, and Vegas and Abe had been introduced to the dog then. Jackson had let him out, but that had been before lunch. "Poor Galileo. How long has it been—"

  "He has a doggie door. Most days he comes to work with me, but on days when he stays home and I work late, he has the run of the place and can get out himself."

  "Lucky dog." Plus he probably got to sleep in Jackson's bed…

  "Spoiled dog. Just like he deserves." He put his hands on her waist, pulling her close. "As for being tired, I've got a little left in me. I could probably find the energy to unload a few boxes. Put a shelving unit together. Or" — he leaned into her, his eyes on her mouth — "something else." He pressed a kiss to her lips, then the corners of his mouth curved up charmingly.

  "Yeah?" Her voice was hushed. Rough. "I'm out for the boxes and shelves, but 'something else' holds potential." She stretched up and kissed him back, just a peck … two … three, working up her nerve. "Can you stay?" She held her breath as she waited for him to answer.

  He trailed a finger down her nose, to her lips, his blue eyes focused on the path. Without a word, he rotated them so that her backside was against the cabinets and his body pressed her into them. His hard, aroused body.

  Before she could catch her breath, he lifted her up onto the counter, worked his way to stand between her legs, and kissed her. Asia wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, drowning a little bit in him, in a good way, momentarily forgetting he hadn't voiced a response to her invitation. He deepened the kiss, and her legs wound around him, trapping him to her, pressing the achy, needy part of her farther into him.

  When they came up for air, she ran her fingers over his rough jaw. "Is that a yes?"

  A sexy rumble came from his throat. "I'm not sure I could walk away if I wanted to. Definitely don't want to."

  Something in her chest settled, and then her blood ignited as he picked her up, his hands gripping the backs of her upper thighs and her butt. She kept herself wrapped around him, reveling in the way he handled her as if she weighed nothing.

  He carried her out of the miniature kitchen, through the dining area and living room, to the door of her bedroom. "Fully applauding the decision to make up the bed earlier," he said into her ear right before he nipped at her lobe and sent a shiver clear through her.
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  Once in the room, he pushed the door shut with his foot and wound his way through the maze of boxes, stopping at the foot of the bed. He nibbled his way down her neck as she slid her feet to the floor.

  "Are you sure about this?" he asked in a husky whisper.

  Asia nodded. Her body was sure, and as for her mind, she didn't want to give it too much free rein right now. It would only come up with doubts and fears and stupid stuff that would get in the way. She hadn't been with a guy for months — a lot of months — and had never been with a guy like Jackson. Her body was screaming at her to get on with it. "Very sure." She ran her fingers under his shirt, up to his chest, relishing the taut, defined muscles.

  "Thank god," he said, closing the space between their mouths again, kissing her with the same sureness that was pumping through her.

  She inched his shirt up, dying to lay her eyes on everything she could feel and more. They broke away briefly so she could get it over his head, and then she started in on his shorts. She pushed both layers to the floor. Jackson stepped out of them, continuing to kiss her, his hands roaming down her sides, then repaying the favor of stripping her, piece by piece. After sliding her bra down her arms, he palmed her breasts, ran his thumbs over her nipples, drawing a moan from her.

  Too soon, his hands left her breasts and trailed lower, hooked in the waistband of her panties, drew them down to her ankles, pulled them off her legs as she raised each one. Still crouched at her feet, he paused, looked up at her in the dim, dusky light filtering in through the open blinds, just enough that she could see the heat in his eyes. She touched his face as his eyes roved downward, over every inch of her, burning up her flesh with nothing more than his gaze. Then, as if to remedy that, he went up on his knees, zeroing in on where her thighs met, where the pulsing need centered, and he pressed a kiss there, swirled his tongue in just the right spot, and rose to his feet just as Asia was sure her legs were going to give out.

  As if he understood, he put one arm around her waist as he kissed her lips, while the other hand followed the curve of her hip downward, then strayed between her legs, finding the spot he'd kissed, teasing it.