Before Jared could finish, a waitress sashayed over to their table. Her jeans were tight, her shirt was low, and her smile was almost as big as her hair. “Hiya,” she said. Then, without taking her eyes off him, she said to the man seated across from him, “Hi, Paul.”
“Hey, Tammy. How’s your brother doing?”
“Good. Got a new job over in Redmond. Likes it real fine.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
With her eyes still glued on Jared, she leaned forward and made sure he had a clear view of her ample cleavage. “Thought you could use a refill ’bout now.” She set a fresh beer down in front of him.
Jared wasn’t even halfway through his first, but he gave the curvy brunette a smile and a thanks as he reached for his wallet.
“Forget it,” she said, flipping her hair, batting her eyes, and motioning for him to put away his wallet. “We’ll even up later.” She flashed him another wide smile. “Bye.” She turned and started to walk away, hips swaying to the music. She’d taken a half-dozen steps before she stopped and, as an afterthought, called over her shoulder, “See ya later, Paul.”
The jukebox kicked over to another song.
“So,
Paul
,” Jared said, sliding the full beer across the table, “something tells me you’re not here for idle chitchat.”
Paul tipped the beer in a silent acknowledgment, then took a drink. “It’s Beckinsale,” he said, wiping the foam off his upper lip. “Paul Beckinsale.”
“As in Jenny’s—”
“Brother.”
So much for his small bit of peace and quiet.
“Ron told me you were here.”
“Ron?”
“The bartender.”
“Remind me to thank him later.”
Paul almost smiled. Almost. But there was a tightness to him that Jared knew didn’t bode well for their discussion ahead.
“You’re the lawyer, right? Steven told me. So, what’s on your mind?”
“Jenny.”
Obviously
. “Specifically?” Jared said with a bluntness that tended to shock most people. Paul didn’t flinch at Jared’s directness.
“I spoke with Jenny today.”
Jared just waited.
“I don’t like this current situation.”
Jared ran his thumb through the condensation on the outside of his glass. “What situation would that be?”
Whatever civilities Paul had been trying to maintain vanished. He pushed his beer off to the side and tried to stare Jared down.
Jared had to give the lawyer credit. He looked to be in okay shape, but years of easy living had left him soft where it mattered the most. He was no match for Jared. Jared wasn’t proud of some of the things he’d had to do in his life, but they’d kept him alive. And those fighting instincts, once honed, had never left.
“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” Paul said through clenched teeth. “You. Living at her house.”
“I’m only too happy to leave.”
“Perfect,” Paul said after a small hesitation. It was obvious that wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting.
“I’m only too happy to leave,” Jared repeated, then clarified, “once my loan is repaid.”
“Jenny said something to the same effect. She also told me to back off.”
“That was decent of her. Personally, I would have told you to fuck off.”
Paul gave a reluctant smile. “If you weren’t causing my sister such hell, I think I could almost like you, Worth. Steven had a lot of great things to say about you.”
“Steven said great things about everyone. That’s the type of guy he was.”
“True. But there was something different in his voice when he spoke of you.” Paul looked out toward the busy dance floor then back to Jared. “He really idolized you.”
A sharp memory jabbed at Jared, reminded him of just how far he’d fallen. “Believe me, I’m nobody’s idol.”
“You don’t have to convince me.”
Another waitress approached their table, this time carrying a large plate of nachos. Once more, the waitress ignored Paul and focused her sole attention on Jared. “Thought you looked kinda hungry.”
Jared had to give the owner credit; only knockouts waited the tables. But while the plate of crispy chips and oozing cheese looked appetizing, especially considering what he’d been eating during this past week, he was fast realizing that coming into the Sawmill hadn’t been the escape he’d hoped for. Anonymity in a small town was unheard of. And that was before he factored in Jenny’s brother. “Thanks, but—”
“No buts.” She smiled and set the plate down on the table. “The Sawmill is famous for their nachos. It’s almost a law you have to try them before you leave.”
Jared knew he wouldn’t eat them. As soon as he could, he was outta here. But still, he reached for his wallet a third time. And once more he was told to put it away.
“They’re on the house. A welcome gift for Hidden Lake’s newest resident.”
Resident was a bit of a stretch. “I’m not planning on sticking around that long.”
“Our loss.” She crossed her hands in front of her stomach and cocked a hip out to the side. “Maybe after you and Paul get done talking, you’d like to dance.”
They both knew the offer was for more than just a dance. Jared had had more than his fair share of women in his day. It wasn’t something he was extremely proud of, but, then again, it wasn’t something he was ashamed of, either. The saying was true: a set of dress whites and gold wings could get you a bed anywhere. Anytime. And for years he’d taken what women had offered. And he liked to think he’d given back more than his fair share. But several years ago he’d realized he was never going to find what he was looking for between the sheets with a beautiful stranger.
Hell, he wasn’t even sure he knew what he was looking for.
“That’s a real nice offer,” he said to the stunning red-head, “but I have to be heading back soon.”
She tried for the pouty lip look. “Maybe next time.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“That happen to you often?” Paul asked after the waitress had left.
“What?”
“Getting hit on every five minutes.” Paul grabbed a chip loaded with cheese. He popped it in his mouth and then wiped his hands off on his napkin. “Hell if I know what women see in you, but stay away from my sister. She might have told me to back off, but I’m not going far.”
“Is that a threat, Counselor?”
“Call it a warning.”
“Jenny can hold her own.”
“She’s not one of your usual groupies, Worth. I remember other things Steven told me about you, too, so don’t try to pull any of your stunts on her. She’s not accustomed to a player like you.”
“If you’re trying to insult me, you’ll have to do better than that.”
Paul stood. “Just remember what I said.”
Jared watched Paul walk away. Pain in the ass notwithstanding, he wondered if Jenny realized how lucky she was to have a brother who cared. For that matter, a family who cared.
She’s not accustomed to a player like you
.
All week Jenny had been doing everything in her power to avoid him. She stayed away from the hangar, cooked those horrid meals when he was out running or out working. And she’d disappear up into her bedroom long before bedtime just to avoid spending time with him at night. Oh, she’d asked him to join her for dinner tonight, but that was only because she had her nephew as a buffer.
Everything he’d tried up to this point had failed. He thought again of his call with the realtor. Jared needed to turn up the heat where Jenny was concerned, and Paul had unknowingly given him the answer.
She’s not accustomed to a player like you
.
Images flashed through Jared’s mind. The day in the office, when he’d pulled out the magazines. She’d been pissed, but she’d also been flustered. Sexually flustered. Just like she had been today in the kitchen. With a new clarity, he saw how she shied away from him every time their bodies had touched.
Little Bunny Foo-Foo might act like she was immune to him, but her actions told him otherwise.
Moving in with her had been a good first step. Moving in
on
her would be even better. The closer he got to her, the farther she’d run. Right to Mom and Dad.
Jared grinned and drained the rest of his beer.
But even as his new plan went through his mind, he couldn’t shake the image of a pair of sky blue eyes and a smile that made it hard to remember she was Steven’s girl.
TWELVE
Jenny heard the deep rumble of Jared’s bike just after midnight. The monstrous engine growled as it came down the driveway, rattling the windows and, even more rattling Jenny. What had she been thinking, waiting up to confront him?
She’d been so angry when he roared off after promising to talk to Cody. Now, hours later, she realized how foolish she’d been. She was the bunny he kept calling her, and confronting him would be like taking on the Big Bad Wolf.
Even she would lay odds on the wolf.
The noise grew louder as the bike drew up alongside the house. Once, twice, the engine revved, and then silence fell.
She scrambled off the couch, tossing the afghan on the rounded arm of the sofa. She hurried through the family room, shutting off the TV before hustling into the kitchen, where she shoved the ice cream toppings away and all but threw the dirty bowls into the dishwasher.
At least that had been one thing she had done right tonight with her nephew. He’d enjoyed the ice cream. Then again, who didn’t like Rocky Road?
After a quick glance around, assuring herself everything that needed to be done was done, she flipped off the lights and hurried down the hallway. As she rounded the stair landing, she reflected that even if Jared had stuck around, there wasn’t much he could have said or done to improve her nephew’s mood. She should know; she’d tried just about everything and failed.
Archaic. That was the word Cody had hurled at her like a wrecking ball when she’d pulled out Monopoly; that and a few others she wondered if his mother knew about. She’d coaxed him into giving the game a try. Big mistake. She’d tried a different board game with the same result. When she got out the cards, he shot her a look that said
don’t even
, so she’d put them away without even taking the deck out of the box.
After that, they’d been like two strangers in the same house. Cody had gone up to his room to sketch and listen to his iPod while Jenny had stayed downstairs watching TV. The only reason she knew what he was up to was because she’d made the mistake of checking on him. He’d made it more than clear that a thirteen-year-old didn’t need to be checked on.
Halfway up the staircase, the teakettle began to whistle.
Crap
.
She ran back down the stairs and turned off the stove. She was halfway down the hall when the front door opened and six foot two inches of leather-wearing, bike-riding, bad-boy testosterone walked through.
She froze in her tracks. Maybe he wouldn’t see her. Maybe he’d head straight up the stairs to his room. Maybe—
“Hello.”
“H-hi.”
“You’re up late.”
He smelled of warm night air, weathered leather, and a handful of temptation. “I wasn’t. I mean, I was, but I forgot to do a few things so had to come back downstairs.” She was rambling, wishing he’d move so she could get past. “I was just heading back to bed.”
A wicked smile lit his eyes as he took in her appearance. He ran his gaze slowly up from her bare feet, past her pink flannel pajama bottoms, to her white tank top, where he lingered. Under his intense scrutiny she felt like she was wearing nothing more than a see-through negligee.
“Don’t let me stop you.”
But he did. He was.
She chewed on her lower lip. Less than a few feet separated them. Hardly any distance at all. All she needed to do was take a few steps forward.
Bunny. Wolf. Bunny. Wolf.
The refrain grew louder in her head.
Squaring her shoulders, she told herself to knock it off. To grow up. She walked toward him.
He reached out and rested his hand on the stair rail in front of her, blocking her path.
She stumbled to a stop, her pulse going into overdrive. He was so close. Just one tiny step forward and they’d be touching.
“I ran into your brother tonight.”
Slowly she lifted her gaze, up his muscular chest, past his strong jaw, until her eyes found his. His head was bent down, his full attention directed at her. A spark of something she didn’t want to examine too closely heated his blue, blue eyes. “Paul?”
“Do you have more than one?”
Jared’s face was so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. “Where did you see Paul?”
“The Sawmill. You coulda clued me in.”
“On what?”
“The name. Had a helluva time finding the place.”
“Something tells me you’re the type of guy who could find a bar in a desert.”
Jared grinned. “Is that so, sweetheart? And just what type of guy would that be?”
The type of guy that tied her up in knots and made her remember what it used to feel like to be held by a man. Caressed by a man. Wanted by a man. “I’m not your sweetheart.”
“You sure ’bout that?” He put his other hand on the rail behind her. He pressed in closer, his arms on either side of her, boxing her in. The heat from his body penetrated her and the scent of him was even more intoxicating. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there had been a fundamental shift in their relationship.
No, she had to be wrong. She leaned back until the hard edge of the stair dug into her back. “How many times have you used that line?”
“More times than I can count.”
“And how many times has it worked?”
A wicked smile transformed his face into one of pure seduction. “More times than I can count.”
“It’s not going to work,” she said with a bravado she was far from feeling.