She Does Know Jack

by Michaels, Donna

  “Yes!” Danni grinned from ear-to-ear. “I get the first one-on-one with Matthew!” She stilled and glanced at her watch. “Oh my gosh. The limo will be here soon. I’d better get ready.”

  Brielle watched the other two contestants as Danni ran up the stairs, clutching a white Padres shirt and hat from the box while singing a famous ballgame song.

  Mandy dropped onto a couch and hugged a pillow. “How come she gets to be the first one? And in a private box, too. I wonder how private?”

  “Honestly, Mandy.” Carla sighed as she sat down across from her in a chair. “It’ll be private enough. But don’t worry, Matthew’s going to give us all a trial run. Well, almost all of us.”

  The blonde’s eyes grew round. “Do you really think he’ll want to have sex with each of us?”

  Holy hell. Brielle clenched her teeth and tried to remain in the room. This was not a conversation she wanted to be a part of, but given her mission, she had no choice. She had to evaluate the girls.

  “Of course,” Carla scoffed. “He’ll want to sketch the subject before he paints.”

  Unable to hold her tongue anymore, Brielle chimed in. “Geez, Carla. You sound like an expert. Have you been on a show like this before?”

  “Not exactly.” The brunette leaned back and studied her with a narrowed gaze. “But I do know men, and since Matthew qualifies, I say he’ll behave like a taker and sample as many of us as will let him. And I will.”

  Wow. Carla sure was bitter toward men. Why? Brielle made a mental note to ask her uncle about the woman’s past.

  “I will, too.” Mandy straightened her spine. “As soon as I get a one-on-one date, that is.” She dropped the pillow and reached into the box to pull out the leftover T-shirt.

  “If you get one,” Carla corrected with a smile. “Don’t forget, Matthew’s only giving out two more before next week’s elimination, and all the other dates in between will be group ones.”

  Mandy’s expression dropped, along with the Los Angeles team shirt she’d been holding. “I’ve got to get one of those dates.” She transferred her blue gaze to Brielle. “You’ll probably get the next one because you’re the new girl and the one his mama chose.”

  She shook her head, feigning confusion. “I thought he was choosing a name out of a hat?”

  “That was just for this first date. Jack gets to pick Matthew’s next one, and may the best candidate win.” Carla grabbed the discarded shirt from the floor and winked.

  “Yeah, that’s why he’s spending the evening with us tonight. He’s bringing pizza and a movie he chose, and is supposed to determine which of us three is best-suited to date his brother,” Mandy informed, retrieving her dropped pillow.

  Breath clogged Brielle’s suddenly dry throat. Jack was coming here? Tonight? As in a few minutes from now? That would teach her to go off investigating and miss the producer’s daily visit. She glanced at her watch. Did she have enough time to change out of her shorts and tank top before he arrived?

  “Forget it,” Carla said, as if reading her mind. “You don’t have time to get all dolled up. They’re due any minute now. He’s going to judge us as we are.”

  Dolled up? She didn’t want to get dolled up. She just wanted to be more presentable. Yeah. Cover up. Jack had already accused her of being an exhibitionist. What would he think of her barely-there white shorts and tight top graciously provided by the show?

  A myriad of musical chimes echoed through the house and quickened her pulse. Damn. He’s here.

  With no time to lose, she ripped the shirt from Carla’s hand and yanked it on as Mandy raced for the door. At least the baseball shirt covered more. She glanced down, and her heart stopped at the sight of the logo on her chest.

  Dodgers.

  “Hi, Matthew. Hi Jack. Danni should be down any minute.” The blonde’s voice carried tunefully across the hall.

  “I’m here,” the teacher called, practically skipping down the stairs a second later.

  Danni stepped off the bottom step in her Padres T-shirt, jeans and ball cap, carrying a jean jacket. She looked cute. And very excited, if the sparkle in her brown eyes, and flush to her face were anything to go by.

  “Hello, Matthew.”

  “Hello, Danni.” He wore an identical T-shirt and hat, and grinned from ear to ear. “You look wonderful, and I see you made the right choice.”

  Brielle forced her apparel from her mind and concentrated on the couple. Was this the girl Matthew had told her about? She watched them closely. Friendly warmth danced in his brown eyes as he stepped close to drape Danni’s jacket over one arm and offered her the other.

  “Our limo awaits, my dear.”

  “Have fun,” Jack said, balancing three boxes of pizza, a four-pack of wine coolers, six-pack of beer, and a DVD.

  “You, too.” Matthew winked before closing the door.

  Brielle, Mandy, and Carla, all stared at Jack. Damn, the man was hot. Black hair, not quite long enough to touch his ears, grey T-shirt looking comfortable and soft over a chest she knew to be well-defined and hard. Blue jeans with creases worn out in just the right places hung low on lean hips. Okay, forget the pizza, he looked good enough to eat.

  “I realize I’m not my brother, but I could use a little help here.”

  Brielle inhaled, but didn’t trust her voice not to betray her thoughts at the moment, so she remained silent while she got a grip. It was going to be a long night. Maybe she could claim a headache and go upstairs.

  “I’ll get the plates and things,” Carla said, disappearing into the kitchen.

  “That’s not exactly what I meant, but thanks, Carla.” Jack shook his head, the movement causing the movie to slide across the boxes.

  Mandy grabbed the teetering DVD. “I’ve got it.”

  “Thanks, Mandy. That helped a great deal.” He smiled politely.

  Brielle finally emerged from her stupor to grab the six-pack and coolers and fell into step. “So, how did you get babysitting duty?”

  “The studio assigned it.” He glanced sideways, eyes widening when he noticed her shirt. A curious blue gaze snapped to hers. “You like the Dodgers?”

  Only one—and without the “s” at the end. She swallowed and blamed the warm June evening for the heat suddenly invading her body. “They’re okay. I prefer the Mets.”

  He winced. “Oh, say it isn’t so, Brielle. I thought there was hope for you.”

  “Poor, Jack. Forced to babysit two models and a Mets fan,” she scolded playfully, setting the bottles on the coffee table next to the pizza.

  “Yeah, the things I don’t do for my brother.”

  She grinned and opened a lime wine cooler. A beer would’ve gone better with the pizza, but they tended to hit her quicker than wine. Mandy grabbed a cooler too and sat on the couch.

  “I don’t like boxing, Jack. Do we have to watch this movie?” The blonde held up the DVD and wrinkled her nose.

  “Boxing?” He chuckled. “It doesn’t involve boxing, Mandy. It’s more of an action/adventure with a bunch of characters on a quest to throw a ring into a volcano.”

  The rare sound rumbling from his throat sent a shiver over Brielle’s skin.

  “Oh.” The blonde took another look at the DVD and her eyes grew round. “Ring as in jewelry. Why didn’t you say so? I love jewelry.”

  “Yeah, Mandy loves rings,” Carla said, entering the room with her arms full of dishes, and napkins.

  “You’re just jealous because they look great on my fingers, and I’ve gotten more layouts than you.” The hand model tipped her chin as she strolled to the player and slid the DVD inside.

  “Yeah, but at least my layouts show my whole body.” A derisive smiled curled Carla’s lips while she placed her parcels on the coffee table between the food and drinks.

  “Okay, ladies.” Jack snapped his fingers, then motioned for the girls to sit down. “We’re not going to play ‘who has the better spread.’”

  The room grew quiet. Very quiet.

/>   Laughter bubbled in Brielle’s throat. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “Neither can I.” He grimaced.

  The girls exchanged a look, then burst out laughing.

  “Oh, Jack. You should see your face. It’s priceless,” Mandy said between gulps of air.

  “I’m sure it is.” He cocked his head and grabbed a slice of pizza. “Now, can we please watch the movie and eat in peace?”

  Two hours and twenty minutes later, when Jack got up to remove the DVD, Brielle swallowed down a sigh—of protest or joy, she couldn’t be sure. There'll be no devouring the bachelor’s delicious brother tonight, my precious, she warned her libido while unfolding herself from the cushions.

  Mandy’s snoring and Carla's deep rhythmic breaths became more audible when Jack shut off the television. His glance bounced from the girls to Brielle.

  “Wow, I put two out of three to sleep,” he whispered, quietly stacking the pizza boxes. “Almost a clean sweep.” He winked at her, then disappeared into the kitchen.

  She’d never been so happy to see her favorite movie end. Her body couldn’t take another minute of sitting so close to Jack. Mandy had pulled him down to sit between them while Carla had plopped into the chaise. Short of looking ignorant, Brielle couldn’t get up and move so she’d suffered a tantalizing torture all evening and did her best to become one with the armrest.

  She had to. Every time Jack had reached for a drink or pizza, his arm brushed her thigh, sending shivers across her skin. The action had killed her appetite for food, but increased her craving for the yummy former Ranger.

  Damn craving still ran deep.

  Realizing he was alone in the other room, she grabbed the dishes and cups and followed, telling herself it was just to check up on him.

  “…this is not a joke.”

  She stopped dead just outside the swinging door. Who was Jack talking to? She peered through the crack. No one. He was alone and just closing his cell phone.

  Alarm quickened her heartbeats and stiffened her spine. What was that all about? Had he gotten a call? She hadn’t heard his phone ring. Had he made a call? Releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she held, Brielle proceeded into the kitchen with her arms full and her mind ready to investigate.

  “Here’s the rest of the mess,” she said, heading for the sink. Her cameraman settled in the corner while she unburdened her arms.

  “Let me help.” Jack slipped the phone into his pocket before grabbing the teetering pile. “So tell me, Brielle, how come you weren’t bored to sleep?”

  She decided to play along. “I’d never sleep during that movie. It’s one of my favorites.” His astonished expression made her smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the whole trilogy, but the first one is my favorite.”

  Jack remained still. “You like this type of movie? Why?”

  Her mind raced for an acceptable response. Somehow, stating it was loaded with dreamy, hunky men didn’t seem like a legitimate answer. Even if it was true. “Do you have any idea how much choreography goes into those fight scenes? And the balance involved? It’s a work of art. And quite graceful at times, too.” She paused to pull in a breath and end her babbling by switching tactics. “Why? Was I not supposed to like it?”

  “No. It’s just that most women don’t.” He motioned toward the room were the beauties slept.

  She grinned and shook her head. “Jack. How many times do I have to tell you…I’m not most women.”

  His friendly gaze suddenly darkened to sapphire, brimming with hunger and flecks of desire. “I’m beginning to see that,” he murmured, dropping his attention to her mouth.

  She stopped breathing. Oh, this…this wasn’t good. Looking at him did funny things to her insides. Steady, Brielle, he’s a suspect, her mind warned, but it was too late. A sensual fog obscured the room and everything in it—everything except Jack.

  He stepped closer. Heat from his body seeped into her skin, raising her temperature to an instant burn. The pull of arousal ran deep—all the way to her good parts, which were screaming for her to allow Jack to make them happy again.

  With his mouth a mere inch away, Jack’s curse washed over her face as his hands settled on her hips. Warmed by his breath and touch, she gave in, lost, her mind officially shut down and her body eagerly took over. She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her tongue over her lower lip in anticipation of what was to come.

  He groaned, and bent his head, until their mouths finally made a connection.

  Lips brushed, hot and real, sending tingles down her neck and spine. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, letting his touch awaken every known and unknown pore. God, it hadn’t been all in her mind. The frenzy, out of control wild yearning from The Limelight was back. She’d blamed it on the situation. The bad boy liaison. The fact it was her one and only one-night stand. Oh, she had a million reasons why her body had ignited under Dodger’s touch that night. But, heaven help her, Jack was quickly blowing each and every one of them right out of the water.

  Tentative, soft and sweet in one beat, and in the next they were kissing, wet and hard, and breathtakingly frantic. He tasted of pizza and beer, and hot, very, very hot. She wanted more. Needed more. Her body wanted everything it knew he possessed.

  As if reading her mind, he backed her against the counter and rocked against her. Oh, sweet mercy she couldn’t feel her legs. Heat had burst through her core and shot out in all directions. She moaned into his mouth and fisted his shirt. The man was one hell of a kisser.

  He freed his hands to thread into her hair and draw her in deeper. Jack took her on a trip far surpassing what they’d experienced at The Limelight.

  The Limelight.

  Damn.

  She broke the kiss and reached for the counter to keep from falling. They shouldn’t have kissed. That much whispered through the fog in her brain. As for why…those answers weren’t forthcoming.

  He gripped the counter next to her, his breathing just as ragged as her own. “This is insane,” he rasped, resting his forehead against one of the top maple cabinets.

  “I know,” she managed, making the mistake of glancing at him.

  His eyes still smoldered, and a second later, he hauled her close and kissed her again.

  With a needy sigh, she melted into him, winding her hands around his neck, practically crawling up his body as things got wild and desperate and…wild. Bells sounded in her ears, and it wasn’t until Jack pulled back abruptly, that she realized the ringing had been his phone.

  “Damn,” he ground out as he stepped away.

  Brielle blinked, backed into the counter again, and clutched tight. Damn was right. What had they done? Her gaze bounced to the cameraman smiling in the corner. Son-of-a… She’d forgotten he was there. How could she forget that? The man had been videotaping their every move. Cripes. Jack sucked cells from her brain faster than she drew in air.

  He answered his phone with one hand and thrust the other through his hair. “Yeah? What?” His head snapped in her direction, and he frowned deep. “When? Are you all right?”

  Her heart hit the floor.

  “Okay. Fine. I’ll inform Franco and have him send his men. I’ll see you when you get back.” He flipped the phone shut and placed it on the counter.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, traces of desire still evident in her tone.

  He folded his arms across his chest, and cocked his head while the heat in his blue gaze frosted. “You tell me.”

  Chapter Seven

  I’m the biggest, damn idiot!

  The next day, Jack didn’t let up on his inner admonishment or his attack on the punching bag held by his brother. A task Matthew had taken over from Rodriquez when the big man had gotten tired.

  “I can’t believe how stupid I was! I’m sorry, Matthew,” Jack said between punches.

  “Quit beating yourself up about it. You can’t be in two places at the same time,” his frowning sibling claimed. “Besides, how were you to know
I’d get a call at the game?”

  “That’s not the point,” he spat.

  His computer guy determined the call had come from a burn phone, which made it impossible to trace. And according to his brother, the voice had been mechanical and too distorted to tell whether the caller had been male or female.

  He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have left those two contestants alone.”

  After hanging up with Matthew last night, Jack had grilled Brielle and concluded she hadn’t been the one to call and threaten his brother.

  Images of her tight-lipped expression filtered into his mind. Those warm incredible lips. Lips he’d tasted only moments before he’d accused her of being a stalker. His jaw clenched. He didn’t know who he was angrier with—himself or Brielle.

  He shouldn’t have kissed her. And she sure as shit shouldn’t have kissed him back. At least, not if she was really there for Matthew. Dammit. If she hadn’t had him so twisted in knots and distracted, he never would’ve left the other two women unsupervised long enough to make that threat.

  “Look, we’ve been over this. You thought Mandy and Carla were sleeping, and maybe they were.” Matthew's words brought Jack back to the present. His brother repositioned the bag against his shoulder, then signaled for him to continue. “Maybe Danni did it. She wasn’t with me when I got the call.”

  Jack stopped. “She wasn’t?”

  “No. She’d stepped out to go to the bathroom. I couldn’t very well go in there with her, so who knows? Maybe it wasn’t Mandy, or Carla.” Matthew shrugged. “At least you know it wasn’t Brielle.”

  Jack curled his fist and hit the bag hard. Damn her. It’s all her fault. He punched again. Because of her, he’d broken his cardinal rule. Punch. Punch. Gave into his growing attraction for her. Punch. Punch. Punch. Brushed lips with her. Punch-punch. Punch-punch. Damn woman. The instant they’d touched, an energized shock wave had engulfed his body. Punch. Punch. Punch.