It had been two years since he’d last seen her, but apparently time didn’t matter. He’d put off this reunion as long as he could, but the time had come to deal with it. Steve’s last request had eaten into him far enough to become hazardous. Jack couldn’t allow his own personal crap to jeopardize his team any more than it already had.
“Jack? Did I lose you?”
“I’m here. I was just calculating the possibility of my arriving in time for lunch. I don’t think it’s going to happen.”
There was a pause, as if she sensed the lie.
He hated bullshitting her, but he couldn’t see her today. He needed time to get his head on straight. He hadn’t taken a leave of absence in years and without work to occupy him, he found himself thinking too damn much about her. Visions of her blond hair fisted in his hands . . . her taut, sweet nipples tightening against his tongue . . . her long, lithe legs spreading in invitation . . .
Getting that obsession under control was a necessity if he had any hope of convincing her she was off the hook as far as he was concerned. He was still reeling from Steve’s request that he look after her if she was ever left alone. Jack realized his friend must have known how he felt. As careful as he’d been to hide his longing, something must have betrayed him.
And that killed him. No man should have to deal with knowing his best friend is in love with his wife.
“Where are you?” she pressed.
“I haven’t reached King City yet.” Jack had passed King City long ago and was about twenty minutes away from Monterey. He would pick up the keys to his cottage in Carmel from the property managers who rented it out for him, then grab a six-pack of beer and hunker down for the night. He’d get his bearings and be better capable of facing her in the morning.
“Let’s make it dinner, then. Riley’s spending the night at a friend’s house so I can wrap his gifts without him peeking. It’ll be just you and me. We can catch up.”
Just her and him. At night. With Riley gone until morning? Yeah, right. Jack could imagine the mess running through Rachel’s head now. She’d been crazy about Steve. Madly in love. If she thought Steve wanted them together, she’d make it work, even though he scared the shit out of her. Part of his job was reading people, and as focused on her as his instincts were, there wasn’t a damn thing about her he didn’t register. When he walked into the room, she became skittish—nostrils flaring, eyes widening, body moving restlessly. Her primal reaction aroused every predatory sense in his body, making him edgy and sharpening his hunger for her.
“How about I take you two out to breakfast in the morning?” His voice was rough with desire. “Then I’ll help you finish setting up for his party.”
“All right. But if you make it into town sooner, call me. And be careful on the road.”
It wasn’t a casual warning for Rachel. Steve had been killed by a drunk driver on the way home from work one night, changing all of their lives forever.
Jack hung up. Shifting on the seat, he adjusted the fit of his jeans, which was now extremely uncomfortable. Ahead of him, the road to perdition wound its way through the tiny town of Spreckles.
It was going to be a long week.
• • •
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Sylvia Day is the #1 New York Times and #1 international bestselling author of more than a dozen award-winning novels sold in thirty-nine countries. A reader favorite across several genres, there are millions of copies of her books in print worldwide. She has been nominated for the Goodreads Choice Award for Best Author, has won the RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award, and has been nominated for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award twice.
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