Home Is Where the Heat Is (15 page)

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Authors: Amelia James

Tags: #sexual situations, #amelia james, #adult literature, #evolved publishing, #Fiction, #Romance, #erotic, #erotic romance, #sex, #home is where the heat is, #Contemporary Romance

“My turn.” Kurt smiled and chalked his cue. “You needed enough force at the beginning to carry the energy all the way through to the third bank, but not so much to sink the cue ball.”

“Is that right, smart guy?”

Kurt retrieved the white ball. He’d heard that question before, usually as a veiled threat, but the humor in JT’s voice bolstered his courage. “Yep. Like this.” He lined up the cue ball at an angle that allowed him to take the same shot at the yellow-striped ball. First bank, second, third, the stripe dropped and the white ball rolled and stopped at the edge of the pocket.

JT shook his head and patted him on the back. “Nicely done.”

“Simple physics.”

“Physics is
never
simple.” JT occupied the bar stool as Kurt prepared to clear the table. “How’d a genius like you end up fixing Claire’s computer?”

“My dad gave me his old laptop when I was six. I played on that thing till the keyboard wore out.” Kurt sank two balls in one shot.

“A life-long computer geek, eh?”

“Yeah.” He studied the position of the remaining balls, calculating angles and distances. His father had taught him to analyze every situation before he chose an action, but the decision to study computers required little thought. “He died before I got my degree, but I know he’d be proud of me.”

JT watched the green-striped ball roll across the table, and his usually bright eyes dimmed. “How’d he die?”

An odd question. Most people avoided the subject, focusing on his career instead. “Car accident. He never should’ve been on that road.” It made no sense at the time and still kept him awake at night.

Kurt’s quiet companion toyed with the arrowhead around his neck. “My dad died when I was in college.”

So that’s why he asked.
“I’m sorry. What happened?”

“He was riding his motorcycle without a helmet. Not that it would’ve done any good.” He shrugged and tucked the stone under his shirt.

Kurt met his somber gaze. “So you know what it’s like.”

“Yep.” JT raised his glass in salute, then took a deep drink.

Kurt lifted his bottle and drank it empty. Nothing more needed to be said. He lined up his shot. “Eight ball in the side pocket.”

JT bolted upright and gaped at the empty table. “Eight ball already? Are you fucking kidding me?”

He grinned as the black ball rolled and dropped neatly into the hole. “Nope.”

The out of luck gambler slapped his palm over his face. “Best two out of three?”

Kurt signaled the waitress. “You’re on.”

***

“Where did you meet that yummy thing?” Claire’s fellow paralegal, Rachel, practically licked her lips as she watched JT bound down the stairs to the bar. She and file clerk, Julia, had been hanging out with them on the pub’s upper level. When Claire noticed that her friends couldn’t stop smiling at him, touching his strong arms, and standing much too close, she’d sent him off for more drinks. Her bracelet jingled as she swept her hair back, revealing her flashy drop earrings. Dressing for attention usually gave her a shot of courage, but her bravado faltered in the presence of her effortlessly glamorous friends.

Claire sipped her beer as her mind raced, trying to come up with a believable scenario that would satisfy Rachel’s curiosity and keep their secret safe. “We met….” At the courthouse? No, no, no. Alex ‘introduced’ them? No, that would get back to him. “Through a mutual friend,” she said. That would have to do. Vague but true in a convoluted jury-duty-is-our-friend sort of way.

“I hope you gave your friend a reward.” Julia followed Rachel’s ravenous gaze. “That man is a prime piece of meat.”

“He’s fun.” Claire swallowed more beer, washing away the graphic details poised on the tip of her tongue.

“Such a sweetheart,” Rachel gushed.

Julia giggled. “And so funny.”

Claire rolled her eyes and handed her empty bottle to a passing waitress. They could’ve ordered more beer from any one of the pub staff, but she’d told JT he needed to go to the bar to get a bottle of champagne for the midnight toast. He’d started to argue, but when Claire stepped between him and a pawing Rachel, he got the message and disappeared without protest.

Would she always have to compete for a man? She tried to recall when she’d ever won a contest—of any kind—but came up short. Always second best. The bridesmaid at the end of the row no one ever noticed. Miss Congeniality.

Cheese and rice!
She could win this competition if she was
the only woman in it
. A diabolical plot took shape in her head. One of her rivals could easily trip and fall down this stairs in this crowded room. The other could get pushed over the loft’s railing.
It was an accident, Your Honor. Not guilty.

“Look at her smile.” Julia elbowed Rachel. “She’s so smitten.”

“He is too. Did you see how he kept touching her?” Rachel sighed. “Not at all like that creep who ditched you last year.”

“Oh yeah.” Julia nodded. “Dr. I’m-too-good-for-your-office-party. What an asshole. He didn’t even bother to drive you home.”

Please stop talking.
Claire squeezed her eyes closed, hoping to shut out the awful scene while her friends rehashed it….

“It’s almost midnight. Do you want some champagne?” Claire grabbed two glasses from the passing waitress and offered one to Michael.

Her boyfriend scowled and brushed her off. “You know I can’t drink tonight. I’m on call.”

“Sorry, I forgot.” Claire searched for a place to abandon the extra drink. Julia and Rachel had their hands full, so she stood there looking like a lush with a cheap plastic flute in each hand.

He recoiled as a giggling Rachel bumped against him. “I didn’t even want to come, but I did it for you.”

As if he needed to say it out loud. His petulant scowl made it abundantly clear he’d rather be anywhere than with her at DA’s office party. “Um… thank you?”

The all-important surgeon plucked a stray hair from his sleeve, a smug smile screwing up his face. “You’re welcome.”

The giddy crowd surrounded them, pressing closer to the TV to watch the ball drop in Times Square. A cell phone rang, its harsh tone jarring the people around them. Michael shoved his hand in his pocket and answered it. He frowned at Claire and jammed a finger in his ear while he listened. “On my way.”

“Not tonight.” She pouted, hoping he’d soothe her lips with an understanding kiss.

“This is my career, Claire. When the hospital needs me, I have to go.” Michael zipped up his jacket.

The countdown to the New Year rose up from the crowd. “
I
need you.”

“I can’t serve you, too.”

Sweat collected on the back of her neck as her coworkers, friends, and one of the senior partners lost count and watched her plead with the man. “I don’t want to be served. I just need some attention once in a while.”

He snorted. “I let you drag me to this dive. Isn’t that enough?”

“Happy New Year!” Cheers rose and champagne flowed.

But Claire spent the first moments of her new year chasing what she couldn’t have. “Can I get a New Year’s kiss before you go?”

“I don’t have time for this. I’m already late.” He pushed through the gawking onlookers and walked out the door.

Claire’s hands trembled, splashing alcohol onto her festive new blouse. She tried to wipe it up, but with both hands occupied, she had to let it stain. “Happy New Year.” She raised a glass and downed it, followed quickly by the second. Her head swam and she resolved to find a man who couldn’t get enough of her….

“You are a lucky girl, Claire.”

“Huh?” She blinked and focused on Julia’s smile. “How’s that?”

“JT didn’t want to leave you. You had to pry him off.”

A twinge of guilt tingled her skin, and her sense memory recalled JT’s fingers caressing the back of her neck, his hand circling on the small of her back. He’d never left her side until she forced him to, and even then gave her hand a lingering caress as they parted. No, she hadn’t won him. The competition had never taken place.

“Yes, I am.”
Resolution kept.
She smiled and twisted Julia’s wrist to look at her watch. Ten minutes to midnight. “I need to go find him and that champagne.”

“Have fun ringing in the New Year.” Julia winked.

Claire laughed and scurried down the stairs, grabbing at the railing as her heel caught and nearly sent her headfirst to the floor.
Wow, I could’ve pulled that off.
She stopped and caught her breath, searching the crowded bar for JT.

The giddiness of her effortless victory faded as she identified one face after another.
Not him, not him.
Had he gotten bored and gone home?

Shouts of laughter erupted from the pool tables, and Claire turned to see JT and Kurt, of all people, balancing on cue sticks as they doubled over. JT patted the computer guy on the back as he circled the table for another shot.

When she’d set out to find him, a small, insecure part of her worried he might be occupied with another woman, but finding him with Kurt cast that doubt aside.

An easy smile lit JT’s face, and Kurt grinned back instead of fumbling like usual. The IT wizard was always a bit of a bumbler in social situations, especially with people he barely knew. When she’d introduced him to Alex, Kurt had shaken the wrong hand and tripped over his own feet, sending him tumbling into the surprised prosecutor. Kurt still blushed every time Alex teased him about throwing himself into his arms.

She crept across the room, standing close enough to watch and listen without being seen by the two men.

“Not bad, not bad.” Kurt grinned as JT’s shot stopped short of the pocket. “But let me show you how it’s done.”

JT scoffed. “I’d like to see you try.”

The geek leaned over the table with a cue stick in his hand. “All you have to do is determine the amount of force needed to cover the distance across the table, and then calculate the angle of the shot.” He knocked the cue ball into the bank and dropped the five ball into the corner pocket.

JT laughed and shook his head. “Now let me show
you
what a little luck can do for ya.” He stepped up to the table.

“Whoa.” Kurt backhanded his chest. “It’s still my turn.”

“Shit. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

“Luck, my ass. More like misdirection.” He lined up his next shot.

Who is this guy?
Kurt rarely showed this level of confidence. He mouthed off to her computer, but the computer couldn’t fight back. His bravado with JT appealed to her in a way that–
Oh my God, seriously?
She shook off the immediate attraction, but the idea simmered in the back of her mind.

The superstitious former juror groaned out loud as Kurt sank the eight ball in a corner pocket. “Not again.”

“And that’s kicking your ass.” The pool champ extended his right hand.

JT shook it and clapped him on the shoulder. “Well played. As soon as a waitress comes by, I’ll pay your tab. You earned it.”

The genuine affection in his voice churned up a familiar dread in Claire’s stomach. She never could compete with a woman for a man’s attention, and she certainly had no earthly idea how to compete with a man. Maybe she could bend over the pool table and give JT a flash of flesh. On the other hand, Kurt might like to see that, too.

But she’d accomplish nothing hiding in the crowd, so she approached the two men and made her presence known. “Looks like you boys are having fun.” She slid her butt on the table’s edge and straightened her shoulders.

JT immediately focused on her straining buttons. “Missed you, Rebel.” He winked and circled the table.

Kurt gave him a sideways glance, then smiled at Claire. “Happy New Year.”

“Hi Kurt. I didn’t see you come in.” She hadn’t meant to dismiss him, but when his eyes dimmed like a snuffed out candle, her heart hurt a little.

“I didn’t want to, but Frank told me it might be a good idea to mingle with the partners.”

She leaned back against JT as he slid behind her. “I hate office politics.”

“Me too.” Kurt stepped back as JT wrapped his arm around her waist.

She wanted to reach out and pull him in. Why? Her man had obviously claimed her, so why did she want Kurt, too? She brushed off the conflicting thoughts and pursued meaningless small talk. “I’m just glad my boss isn’t here.”

“Mmm….” JT’s breath tickled her neck. “So am I.” He nipped her ear, and her nipples stiffened, making her glad she’d worn a padded bra.

Kurt fiddled with the cue stick. “How’d he get out of this?”

“He took his girlfriend to Vegas for the weekend.”

A sly smile touched JT’s face. “And her boyfriend?”

“Shhh.” Claire pressed her finger to his lips. “It’s supposed to be a secret.”

Kurt snorted. “Not much of one.”

“Really?” They both stared at him.

“I’ve heard rumors. Are they true?”

“He’d deny everything.” Claire zipped her lips. “You didn’t hear it from me.”

Kurt nodded and rolled the cue ball across the empty table, catching it as it bounced off the opposite side. “That’s gotta be one wild….”

“Clusterfuck.” JT finished his sentence.

“Could be fun though, once you worked out all the practical details.” Kurt flicked the ball into a pocket. A waitress walked by and gave them complimentary glasses of champagne.

Interesting.
Claire searched his eyes, but he blushed and turned away from her intense gaze. “Do all men want a threesome?”

“Yes.” JT piped up.

The pink flush on Kurt’s face turned bright red. “It’s a popular fantasy.”

She grabbed his arm and made him face her. “Is it yours?”

“Uh….” He shoved his glasses up his nose.

JT laughed. Somehow through all the party noise, Claire heard a cell phone ring, triggering bad memories. Without thinking, she shoved her hand into JT’s jacket pocket and fumbled around.

He leaned close and pressed his lips to her ear. “Looking for something? Try groping down a little further.”

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