by Oram, Jean
She laughed. “Is he making this into a divorce?” The idea sobered her up, and she felt the urge to sit. Things had been serious between the two of them before…everything. She had a right to be hurt. The right to feel the brunt of every emotional dagger he’d thrust her way. “He’s seriously worried I’m going to try and take advantage of his financial luck? Cody, just tell him I haven’t lived with him in years. I can’t make any claims for those years.”
Cody shifted his weight. “I think he wants to talk to you himself.” He lifted a shoulder. “You know how he is.”
“Fine,” she said, throwing up her arms as she spun on her heel to go back to partying. “Whatever.”
Cody hurried to move between her and the crowded bar, blocking her. “Gimme your number. For Ken.”
“No.” She poked Cody in the shoulder, her anger mounting. Ken couldn’t have it his way every time. He always avoided the bad stuff. The tough situations. He could damn well put his back into it and dig up her new number on his own. “He can’t have the easy out every time, and you need to stop being his lackey. If he really wants me to help him sell the place, he can figure out how to get in touch with me on his own.”
She moved to go past Cody, but he blocked her again. “Seriously, Cody?”
She was barely resisting the urge to punch him, and she had to slowly uncurl her fingers so she wouldn’t make the palms of her hands bleed from the way her nails were digging in. On another breath she forced the muscles in her shoulders to unclench.
A hand clapped on Cody’s shoulder, spinning him around.
“I think it’s time you let her be,” Rob said, his face dark, anger tightening the muscles in his jaw.
Jen slipped to Rob’s side, her legs urging her to keep moving. To leave the building and never look back.
“I need her number,” Cody said, the lines of his face tight.
Rob’s fist clenched and Jen grabbed his arm.
Seven numbers and the past would be in touch with her again. It would it all flow. Downhill to her.
“It’s 1-800-GoFuckYourself.” Jen tipped her chin in defiance as she spun Rob around by his hand, dragging him away.
Away from Cody, Rob asked, “What was that about?”
“Just an unwanted blast from the past. Thanks for rescuing me.”
Suddenly, her party spirit was gone. She was tired. Cranky. Worried. Drunk, but not drunk enough. She tugged the drink from Rob’s hand and downed it. Stupid Pepsi.
Dina, sweat dampening her forehead, handed her a hurricane with its pretty slice of orange clamped to the rim. “Hey, girl! We missed you. Drink up and come dance.”
Tossing the drink’s straw on the ground, Jen downed the drink and hit the dance floor, ignoring Rob’s inquiring look.
Another episode for the Jen’s Life Really Blows Show. Get your tickets now, before her head explodes.
Dina pulled everyone, including her brother, onto the dance floor. It was uncomfortable, hot and full of flushed, damp bodies. Jen let the pounding noise consume her, ignoring anyone who tried to talk over the noise so she could jump and dance and grind her anger and fears away.
A congo line snared Jen, dragging her along as she stumbled out of sync then sent her flying, into the long line of tall tables encircling the dance floor.
She stayed on the floor, dazed and mesmerized at how the lights were spinning above her. Rob appeared in the crowd, pulling her to her feet. The sudden change in altitude sent her reeling into the dancing mob, Rob tugging her out again before sweeping her off the dance floor with a protective arm slung around her waist.
“Are you okay?” He held her against him, his free hand brushing back her damp hair. “You’re bleeding.”
Hold me forever.
Rob, dabbed her forehead with a napkin, his tenderness making her push him away. She was going to do something stupid—something much bigger than the flirting they’d agreed to. She could feel it. Feel it like her legs were giving out from under her. She crashed to the floor, leaving Rob holding a napkin to the spot in the air where her forehead used to be.
He squatted beside her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I needed to sit. So, I sat.” Oh, hell. Here was Wacko Jen here to scare him off. Right when she was finally in his arms. She pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes, willing herself not to cry. It was the alcohol. That’s why she was so up and down like an unstable amusement ride.
Rob peeled a Band-Aid.
“You’re a friggin’ Boy Scout. Always prepared,” she said flopping backward on the floor and instantly regretting it as the scent of stale beer and grime engulfed her.
Rob pulled her back into a sitting position and jerked his chin, indicating she should remove the napkin she had clamped to her forehead.
“Still bleeding,” he said.
“My blood is thinned by the alcohol. Shouldn’t get a tattoo tonight.”
“So, not that drunk then, huh?”
“I’m glad you aren’t trying to give me stitches.”
He shook his head, a small smile escaping.
“How ‘bout them?” She laughed, pointing over his shoulder to where Ginger was receiving a dry-leg humping from Ericka on a large speaker. “I think your rescue services might be required, hero boy.”
She smiled as he hurried to rescue the girls before a bouncer got to them.
There might just be a reason why her romances with other men had never worked out before Rob. Destiny was saving her for something good. All she had to do was make a friend, be patient, and sort out the details later. But mark her words, Rob was going to be hers. She might not know when, but he would.
* * *
“Just a minute,” Jen called as the group tried to pull her out of the bar and onto the street. “The drinks need to return to nature.”
She ducked into the bathroom, the bar’s new silence ringing in her ears, as the bouncers herded people to the exits under glaring fluorescent lights. The floor of the bathroom was sticky, her shoes making shucking noises as she walked to the sink to wash her hands.
Exiting the bathroom, Cody was waiting again. Seriously. Bathroom stalker. Was the men’s room out of toilet paper or was he just that stupid?
Beyond Cody, she could see her friends waiting outside on the sidewalk as Rob brought the vehicle around. They were shivering, laughing, mellowing out. A man, wearing nothing but a pair of sneakers, tore past. The girls came alive as though doused with water. Hooting and cheering, they pursued him to the end of the building.
Fun times and she was still stuck in her tortured past.
“If Ken wants my number, he can get it himself,” Jen said, a weariness in her voice. She headed for the exit before Cody could speak.
“Wait.” Cody’s eyes were glazed with alcohol. “It’s not about Ken. Maybe you and I…”
He came closer, his head tilted to the side. She narrowed her eyes, assessing him. A few bear-avoidance maneuvers and she could be free.
“You’re married,” she reminded him.
“You aren’t.”
She snorted. “That doesn’t make it okay.”
He came closer, drawing a hand up her bare arm in a languid movement. “You’ve got to phone him. Let him sell the house.”
“I don’t have to do anything.” She gave him a shove. “And you know what? You were supposed to be my friend. But you played both sides like a big slimy schmuck! Covering for him. Being my friend to keep me off his back so he could be with Kimmy. I thought you were a real friend. I can’t believe I surrounded myself with so many using, taking, no-good losers and that until recently I thought that was the way the world worked. I thought there was something wrong with me because I didn’t operate that way. I’ve spent the last three years looking for it in everyone I meet. But you guys are the ones with something wrong with you. Not me.”
The truth of her words dug in deep, tearing things up within her.
“Oh, Jenny.”
Such a patronizing tone.
She gave him another shove, wishing she would somehow feel right if she punched him.
She punctuated her sentences with shoves. “Don’t talk to me. Ever. Again.”
He grabbed her arm tight. “Give me your number.”
“No.”
A hand gripped Cody’s shoulder, whipping him around, slamming Cody’s face into Rob’s ready fist. Cody staggered backward and Jen gasped, jumping away from the men.
Cody was on Rob like an angry bear, fists flying. Rob held his ground, swinging Cody’s body away as the man lunged. A bouncer jumped into the fray, grabbing Rob by the shirt collar.
Jen gave the bouncer a sharp kick behind the knee, knocking his leg out from under him, taking him down, pulling Rob on top of him. Cody moved to make it a two-on-one and Jen tackled him, sending him into the wall with a jarring thud that rattled Jen’s bones. Cody staggered as Jen fell to the floor. She grabbed Cody’s ankle as he went after Rob. She gave it a sharp yank, pulling it out from under him, knocking him into a dazed mess as he landed like a sack of dropped scuba weights.
The bouncer and Rob were still struggling, standing now, the bouncer having the upper hand, his beefy arm clenched around Rob’s neck in a chokehold. Jen clamped her teeth down on the bouncer’s arm, a salty, hairy mess that made her want to gag and find a bottle of mouthwash. The bouncer loosened his grip and growled. Rob bent at the waist, sending the bouncer over him and to the floor in a sprawling tangle of stocky limbs.
Rob grabbed Jen’s hand and with a crooked grin on a bleeding lip, pulled her out of the building to the rented Suburban waiting at the curb.
They skittered into the vehicle, Rob slamming on the gas as the girls leaned away from them and their sudden entrance.
Jen clung to her seat, grinning. She’d never had anyone stick up for her like that before. To put themselves in harm’s way. To protect what she wanted. To step in and protect her.
She kind of liked it. A lot.
She felt alive. Excited.
And was totally swooning over His Holy Major Hotness.
* * *
In the apartment Rob locked himself in the bathroom with Jen, the other girls having settled from the excitement of seeing them come tearing back to the vehicle bruised and bleeding and laughing their heads off.
Rob bent over, digging in the cabinet under the sink for Lord only knew what. She stood with her back against the shower door, admiring his firm ass. All that hiking through forests had certainly guaranteed a very nice view for her at the moment. She kind of hoped his you-know-what didn’t fall out of his boxers with all that bending over and digging around. Although she wouldn’t mind if it did. But if something did pop out of his shorts to give her the ol’ eyeball she was pretty sure with all this alcohol partying its way through her bloodstream and causing her synapses to misfire, she wouldn’t be able to handle seeing his you-know-what dance on out without the temptation to…never mind.
Eyes up front. Clean, pure thoughts. White bunnies. Unicorns. Rainbows.
Definitely stop staring at his nice buttocks.
They may have assaulted people together tonight, but he was still hands off.
God, she wished he could be hands-on.
But she didn’t think the courts would take kindly to her sleeping with the investigator. Even if his job was done. He could still be called in to testify. Testify what a hottie she was with her clothes off.
Wow. This alcohol…it must have been the Sex on the Beach shots. Infused with something hormonal because she really wanted to reach up his short’s leg and…and do a lot more than wait to see if she’d become a passive participant in a game of boxer-short-peek-a-boo.
Oh, man. She needed to lock down her brain. And maybe cuff herself to the toilet while she was at it. Hmmm. Cuffs…
No. No. No.
Unicorns. Bunnies. Rainbows. Definitely not bunnies and unicorns doing it on a rainbow.
She just about leapt into the shower to spray herself down with cold water when Rob turned, flashing her nothing but thigh above his tan line, breaking an ice pack from a first aid kit. Jesus. He would have made a good doctor. Those capable hands breaking the inner bag, giving the ice pack a vigorous shake, and now bringing her closer so he could gently apply it. What if she fainted? She could faint right now. Just sort of collapse into his arms. Let him catch her. Maybe he could nurse her back to health without any clothes on.
“What did you do?” Amusement caused a lilt in his voice as he held the pack against the goose egg on her forehead.
“I tackled Cody into the wall when the bouncer came to his rescue. I may have underestimated the physics involved in taking someone down.”
He laughed, tipping his head back to let the rich sound swell over her like fresh rain.
She brushed the ice pack away, feeling the chill slipping too deep. She took the wet cloth off the vanity and dabbed at Rob’s lower lip. That bouncer had a hell of a swing.
Rob leaned against the vanity, straddling her between his legs, bringing them eye to eye. He rested a warm hand on her waist, the heat of his grip traveling through her tank top, surrounding her in warmth, protection, and maybe…maybe something else she dared not think about.
She let out a low chuckle. Who would have thought a bar brawl would break the final layer of ice between them? Let him draw her in closer. Their eyes met, holding conversations she couldn’t figure out. The timing, it was still off, wasn’t it? Behind their desire, they were both holding back, afraid. Unable.
She sighed, resisting the urge to brush her chest against Rob in longing. He brushed away her hand with the cloth, pulling her closer. He pulled out her ponytail, running his fingers through her hair to isolate the purple streak. “Why purple?”
She shrugged. “Why not?”
“I like it,” he said, wrapping it around his finger. He gave a gentle tug, pulling her face closer to his.
Gray eyes. Warm. Flecks of blue. Hope.
His lips hovered against hers. Not a kiss, but much more than a breath check. She closed her eyes and rested a hand against his cheek, enjoying the moment of being close. Breathing each other in. Not having to progress to anything. Just being. Knowing someone was there.
She pushed her lips a fraction closer, kissing him softly.
This.
This was what she had been missing. What she had wanted all along.
His lips explored hers. Warm and moist. Welcoming.
A real kiss.
A rock your world, weaken the knees kiss.
A kiss for which all future kisses would be measured against. She collapsed into his warmth, the comfort of his body penetrating every wall she’d erected over the years.
So simple. So innocent. And yet so much understanding gently flowing between them.
A tentative, soft connection that ran deep.
She slowly opened her eyes, leaning back.
No future kisses would match its intimacy, tenderness, and trust.
And she wanted more.
They pulled together again, her hands running through his soft, short hair as she kissed him gently, telling his soul she could be patient. His arms encircled her waist, rubbed her back, brought her closer, joined their body heat.
She placed a hand on his chest, arching away, breathless. Inside she was disheveled, everything out of place. She wanted too much.
Rob’s eyes had a far-off look as though he was picturing their future.
In bed.
“How many women have you slept with? I know you heard us girls talking.”
He gave a sputtering laugh, ran a thumb over her lips, the gentleness tickling, making her bite her lower lip to remove the fizzy feeling.
“Not the one I want to the most,” he said, replacing his thumb with his lips.
Heat ripped through Jen like a forest fire, breaking down barriers and everything in its wake.
Under her lips he winced. She tipped her head so their foreheads touched, their lips separating. She touched the bruise on his lip, a
nd whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Definitely not sorry for meeting you.”
“Did you start that fire just to meet me? That might have been a bit extreme, you know.”
“I don’t think I started that fire.”
“Me neither,” he said, kissing her again.
“Wait.” She pushed him away. “What?”
“Nothing.” He pulled her in again, his lids half closed.
“Am I…innocent?”
“Not the way you kiss me.”
“No, really.”
His eyes opened and he pushed his legs under him, standing, putting space between them. “I turned in my evidence. I’m not the final anything.”
“You didn’t mess with things, did you?” What if his hero moves made him hide things for her benefit? She couldn’t live with him putting his job and reputation on the line.
“What?”
“Did you?” She leaned forward, unable to believe he would actually alter evidence.
“Jesus, no!”
“Thank God.” She leaned against the sink and held the ice pack to her head again.
He sat on the floor, leaning against the shower’s glass door. She wanted to straddle him. Stroke him, purr while rubbing her chest against his rock-hard body. Everything she’d seen in music videos and never fully understood until Rob. It was as though his presence had caused her brain to swell and anything not related to sexual passion and energy was being squeezed out like a Play-Doh hair doll. Except, instead of Play-Doh hair being squeezed out, it was everything not related to jumping Rob’s bones.
“I’ve never had anyone do something like that for me before,” she said, as Rob studied the swelling in his hand, flexing it, testing it.
“I said I didn’t do anything.” His voice was hard and she knelt beside him.
“I meant stick up for me.” She held his hot hand, knowing it was going to hurt a lot in the morning from all the punches he’d landed. Intent on him understanding how much his actions meant to her, she added softly, “Protect me.”
