The Closer You Come

  He could be locked away for the rest of his life, he decided, but it wouldn't matter because he'd experienced this one perfect moment. Not even Daphne had affected him this strongly--and with so little. But then, her kisses had been those of a teenager in puppy love. This one came straight from a woman with passions as intense as his own.

  Everything he'd felt for Brook Lynn since moment one consumed him, raw and carnal as she arched her back and rubbed her chest against his. Softness without the barrier of a bra, two little beads abrading deliciously...only the thin material of her shirt covering her.

  He clutched at her pillow, nearly ripping the material in half, and lifted his head to ensure she could read his lips. "Be still," he told her. If she kept moving like that, the experience would end in mere minutes. "Please."

  "Can't," she rasped, her fingers applying pressure at his nape, urging him back down.

  Her eyes were glassed with passion-fever, her cheeks even rosier than before. Her lips were red and swollen, moisture glistening over them.

  "Damn, you're beautiful."

  "And you're wasting precious time." She stopped trying to force him down and sat up, thrusting her tongue in his mouth, as if she'd been starved for him and could not live another second without this.

  When she fell back, he went with her, her willing captive. Her nails raked down the ridges of his spine, and he cursed the shirt that prevented skin-to-skin contact. The urge to climb on top of her, to pin her down with the full bulk of his weight, teased him. He would put his hands on every inch of her, strip her, caress her nakedness and drive her to the very edge of release. And the sounds she would make...he would swallow them all.

  A low, possessive growl rose from deep in his chest. He'd never heard it before. Not from anything human. It should have scared the hell out of him, but it merely urged him on. He put one of his knees on the bed--on the gurney.

  The gurney.

  They weren't just in a public place, but in a hospital. Anyone could come in. Anyone could sneak in behind him, attack him.

  Jase jolted back, severing contact. His body shouted a protest, his hands closed so tightly he would have sworn he'd cracked the bones. He struggled to catch his breath, to stay in place, away from her. Have to stay away from her. How had she made him forget his surroundings, even for a second?

  She traced her fingertips over her kiss-swollen lips. "Jase, I..."

  She stopped, just stopped. What would she say? I want more? I shouldn't have done that? You're my boss?

  With a screech, she slammed a fist into the mattress beneath her. "I can't believe this! I'm such a mouth-slut."

  The change in her startled him. "You are not a mouth-slut."

  Ignoring him, she added, "And do you want to know what sucks worse? You're a superstar stud because you've now mouth-bagged two sisters."

  Mouth-bagged? "That would make me the mouth-slut, not you." He had a choice: fire her and pursue her, though he could never offer her anything permanent, or apologize, vow to never again kiss her and return to the way things were.

  She covered her face with her hands. "We can't do that again. Ever."

  He locked his jaw to prevent a curse from escaping. Very well. She'd made the decision for him.

  Prying her hands away from her eyes, he said, "You're right. We can't do that again."

  She ran her bottom lip between her teeth, a nervous gesture. "You came here to kiss me, not for any other reason. Why?"

  Because he couldn't not do it. Because he'd never wanted anything more. "Why did you let me?"

  "You first."

  "A moment of insanity," he said, and she flinched. Okay. Insulting her wasn't a smart move on his part. He added, "Obviously, I'm attracted to you."

  Her eyes widened as she squeaked, "You are?"

  The magnitude of her surprise caught him off guard. "Has no man ever told you that?"

  "Yes. I mean, a few have."

  Only a few? Clearly the men of Strawberry Valley were idiots, and yet Jase was struck by a sudden urge to track down the few smart ones and do a little skull bashing. She's mine!

  He sucked in a breath. No, she wasn't, and as he'd told himself before, she would never be. Feel nothing. Want nothing. Need nothing.

  "But you..." she said. "You're difficult to read."

  He stalked to the chair beside the bed and sat, increasing the distance between them. If he wasn't careful, he would reach for her. Do...more. And if he did more, he would want to try for something serious with her--Beck was right. The desire for commitment was hardwired inside his brain. But if he committed to her, she would own him, but would he ever really own her? And if ever anyone dared hurt her...

  I'll do things that will send me right back to prison.

  "What's so difficult? I'm attracted to you, as I said, so I kissed you. But I won't do it again. You have long-term written all over you, and I respect that. I just wish I didn't have to be the one to break the news to you. Relationships fail, honey. Always."

  *

  BROOK LYNN STUDIED the man she'd just used as an oxygen tank, basically sucking the air from his lungs. There was no lingering sign of Jase's desire for her. His cold, hard mask was firmly in place, his eyes pure green frost, his lips pressed into a hard line.

  Miss my tender lover already. But really, he wasn't hers, and that was becoming clearer by the moment. She couldn't allow herself to think otherwise, even for a moment.

  "Relationships do not always fail," she said. "I know couples who have been together thirty, forty and fifty years." And she'd think of their names at some point...probably.

  "Honey, just because they've stayed together doesn't mean they still make each other happy."

  Wow. He wasn't just jaded--he was jaded.

  Marry him? Jessie Kay didn't stand a chance.

  Jessie Kay! Crap!

  I'm the worst sister ever born.

  Brook Lynn had only one saving grace. In no way, shape or form would Jase and Jessie Kay ever have ended up together. Unlike her sister, Brook Lynn believed a man when he said he wasn't interested in something, or someone, and she wasn't willing to try to change his mind. Why should she? He either wanted to be with her or he didn't. He was either honored to put the work in, to do whatever was necessary to keep her, or he wasn't. There was no middle ground.

  Jessie Kay saw a man's reluctance as a challenge. The harder the battle, the sweeter the victory. What she didn't get? The worse the fall.

  Would she view what Jase and Brook Lynn had done as just another hurdle to climb? Or as the betrayal it was?

  I have to tell her what happened. Soon. No more putting it off.

  Brook Lynn stifled a groan.

  "What?" Jase asked.

  She waved the question away, not wanting his answer or his opinion. She and her sister had never liked the same man before. And she did, she thought. Brook Lynn wasn't just attracted to Jase. She liked him. A lot. Despite the fact that she'd lined up a date with another man before kissing him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  "Tell me about your parents," she said, remembering the way he'd shut her down the last time she'd tried to ask about his past.

  "I don't even know who my father is," he admitted, surprising her. "While I lived with my mother, different men paraded in and out of our apartment. Could have been any one of them. Or none of them."

  Her heart broke for him. Clearly, he had seen the worst of relationships. "Did they treat you well? These men?" she asked.

  His gaze skidded away from her, sticking to the wall just behind her. "Sometimes. Not always."

  The urge to curl up in his lap, wrap her arms around him and offer comfort bombarded her. Only the thought of rejection held her back. That, and Jessie Kay.

  "Despite your abysmal experience," she said, "I still believe happily-ever-afters are a possibility. My parents adored each other."

  He shook his head, pity filling his eyes. "Given time, who knows what would have happened with them. All relationships, even those tha
t start out great, end up toxic. Why would you want one to last?"

  "Not all relationships. What about you, West and Beck? You've been friends for...how long?"

  "Since we were eight," he said.

  "And do you hurt each other?"

  He frowned. "Sometimes."

  "Really?" She found that astounding--how had they hurt each other?

  "But it's never on purpose, and we always do the kiss-and-make-up thing," he admitted.

  "Well, there you go. Your own life has just proved your theory wrong. But tell me more about this kissing."

  He snorted. "I don't like to kiss and tell. As for our relationship, we know everything there is to know about each other. We're honest to the point of brutal in a way couples never are. They always keep secrets and blunt the truth, thinking it's a kindness."

  She wondered what he'd say if she asked how fat her butt looked in her shorts. "So you don't think a woman can deal with knowing everything about you? Knowing the real you?"

  His eyes narrowed. "I'm certain of it. Therefore, I'll amend my argument to state that only sexual relationships are toxic."

  There was no winning with a man who'd already made up his mind. And what had happened to this one to make him so jaded? Had to be more than he'd admitted.

  "Have you ever trusted a woman enough to tell her everything there is to know about you?" she asked.

  "No."

  "Well. Until you do, you can only guess about how she'll react. And if one woman reacts poorly, it doesn't mean others will react the same way."

  He brushed his fingers through his hair, the motion jerky. Was this getting through to him?

  "You can't change what's happened in the past," she said, "but you can change the path of your future."

  He arched a brow, all cocky assurance when he should have caved under her logic. "Want to go there, do you?"

  What did that mean? "Are you implying I'm trying to change the past?"

  "You're definitely not changing the path of your future. You've allowed your sister to become a chain around your neck."

  "I have not! And she certainly isn't a chain."

  He shrugged, all whatever you say.

  Frustrating man! "Enough about her. I want to talk about your attraction to me."

  He went still. "And yours to me."

  "I never said I was." She'd only thought it, again and again.

  "You didn't have to say anything, honey. Sucking on my tongue and sinking your claws in my back told me all I needed to know."

  The sudden heat in her cheeks could have warmed the entire building every day of the upcoming winter. "Be that as it may, I'm not interested in a fling."

  "Like I told you, I figured you for a long-term girl. But I wouldn't give you a one-nighter even if you begged me."

  "But...but...why?" He'd kissed her with such passion, and now he couldn't stand the thought of being with her even once?

  He massaged the back of his neck, somehow looking both fatigued and virile. "I seriously think I feel one of those hemorrhoids coming on."

  The unexpected comment drained the affront right out of her, and she laughed. He laughed, too, and she wished she could hear it. Whether it was rusty or hearty. The way his face lit, as if he were peering directly into the sun, gave him a boyish innocence she'd seen only once before on him. She...liked it.

  He quieted abruptly, acting as though the laughter were his enemy. He scowled and pulled at the collar of his shirt. "Well," he said, and his throat moved with a cough. "I should be going. Like you mentioned, your doctor will arrive soon with your discharge papers." But he made no effort to stand.

  Even though she was annoyed with him, and realized he'd avoided her question, she wasn't ready for this stolen moment to end. Here and now, they weren't boss and employee--they were moth and flame. Her lips still hungered for him, tingling, aching. Her hands itched to return to his hair. No kiss had ever affected her so strongly, and he hadn't even put his hands on her!

  "Stay," she finally rasped. "Just a little while more."

  A wave of relief washed over his features.

  "What's this?" he asked, plucking the list from the bed.

  Oh, crap. The list! She'd been tweaking some of the finer details while she'd waited for the nurse. When she tried to grab it, Jase leaned back, moving out of reach.

  "That is none of your business," she said. "That's what it is."

  He smiled, saying, "A fun list?" He scanned it and smiled again--only to look up at her with a glower. "These are things you've never done before, I'm assuming."

  She squirmed on the gurney. When his stare remained steady, she crossed her arms over her middle and said, "No, I haven't done them."

  He relaxed. "Honey, if you flash someone in public, you're likely to start a riot."

  Was that a compliment or an insult? "I'll make sure it's private."

  "Good." A diabolical gleam entered his eyes. "We're private right now."

  Oh, no. The ice around him had begun to melt again. A warning sign appeared in her mind, reading Danger! Danger! You'll end up right back where you started. Craving him, but unable to have him.

  "I'm here for you," he continued, gripping the notebook with so much force, the center bowed. "I will allow you to flash me."

  "Oh, you'll allow me?" Her stomach twisted even while desire pooled deep inside her. "Thanks, but I'm going to decline."

  "It's not like you have to worry about being groped."

  "You think you can resist me?" Jerk!

  "You think I'll pounce on you the moment I see your breasts?" he countered.

  She glared at him. "Maybe I think you'll be disappointed." Maybe? Ha!

  "That isn't even a possibility," he said, confident. "But challenge accepted. Now you have to flash me."

  "I don't have to do anything."

  "Oh, I get it." His smile was all about projecting sympathy. "You're scared."

  "I am not!"

  He held up his hands, palms out. "If you say so, angel. But I believe you're the one who told me actions mean more than words."

  Using her own statement against her? She was going to make him so sorry he'd gone there. She grabbed the hem of her T-shirt, her hands trembling. "I'm going to do it. You can't stop me."

  "Do you see me trying?"

  "Once I do it, it can never be undone. You can never go back to wondering." Not that he'd wondered.

  Had he wondered?

  "I think I can handle it," he said drily and waved his hand impatiently.

  Could he? Could she?

  What if he hated what he saw?

  What if he liked it?

  What if indecision was the path to insanity?

  Either nut up or shut up. I'm not the girl I've always been: reserved, maybe even timid. I'm fun. And now it's time to prove it.

  With a deep breath, she flipped up the shirt. Between one blink and the next, Jase had a full-frontal view of her chest. Cold air stroked her skin, making her shiver. Definitely the cold and not his gaze...which was laser-beamed on her...staring so openly, so hungrily, as if he'd been starved for years and she'd just offered him a feast.

  He liked.

  It unnerved her--thrilled her. Moisture flooded her mouth. Her breasts suddenly felt heavier, the apex of her thighs warming and aching.

  "There," she said shakily and returned the shirt to its proper place. "We can now check that off the list."

  Jase gripped the arms of the chair. Sweat beaded on his brow. His gaze lingered...lingered...finally lifted and met hers. Slowly he unfolded from the chair. He stood there for several long moments. She waited, tense and eager to find out what he'd do next. What did she want him to do? Kiss her again?

  No. Bad!

  Touch her--

  No! Really, really bad.

  But if he tried, would she really be able to resist?

  "Leave," she rasped. "You have to leave. Now. Please."

  He was already backing out of the room. When the door shut behind him, she r
ealized she could breathe again and sucked in much-needed oxygen.

  When Jessie Kay arrived a short while later, a nurse and wheelchair in tow, Brook Lynn had calmed significantly--at least on the outside. She didn't complain when she was helped into the chair and wheeled to the car, even though she could walk just fine.

  Once they were on the road, Brook Lynn opened her mouth to confess all, but Jessie Kay handed over her cell phone, a steady red blink signaling a message. Only Edna ever called her.

  "Does Edna know why I missed work the past few days?" she asked.

  "Yep," Jessie Kay said. "Jase spoke with her."

  Jase, yet again.

  "Listen to the message for me," she said. "If you don't mind."

  "Don't you know it's dangerous to drive while distracted?" Jessie Kay took the phone anyway, saying, "If anyone can do it, it's me. I'm, like, the best multitasker ever." She held the phone to her ear, listened...and paled.

  "What?" Brook Lynn asked. "What's wrong?"

  "Edna...she...she's such a slag, Brook Lynn. A bona fide slag."

  "What! Why?"

  "I'm so sorry, but she fired you. She said she's going to find another buyer for the store. She said this is the third time this year you've been out for an illness for a prolonged period of time, not to mention when you were late, and she can't count on you anymore. But she's going to give you a severance package, so that's good, right?"

  Just like that. In a moment of time, Brook Lynn's entire world came crashing down. Her income shrank. Her dream of owning Rhinestone Cowgirl burned to ash. Now Jase was the only life raft in a great and terrible storm. The guy she was desperate to repay. The guy who thought she was too fragile to work. The guy who'd kissed her once and walked away from her twice.

  This was another rejection, she realized. She was always so quick to protect Jessie Kay from them, but honestly, they stung her just as sharply. She stared out the window, silent.

  Jessie Kay reached over and squeezed her arm, but all the action did was make her feel worse about the conversation to come.

  Maybe Jase was right. Maybe all relationships were toxic, and a girl could never count on anyone. Tears burned the backs of her eyes. Brook Lynn couldn't even count on herself. Every time she picked herself up, she fell back down again. She was tired of falling.

  Buck up. Another setback? So what.

  But--

  No buts! This could be a fresh start. A chance to create a new dream. Something she loved, not just something she happened to be good at. One problem. Unlike the kids who'd always known what they wanted to be when they grew up, she never had. Well, besides the far-flung dream of being a dancer. Considering she lacked skill, and dancing on anything but a pole wouldn't pad her empty bank account, that wasn't an option. So...she had to find something she loved, was good at and that would actually make her money.