“Grown woman. Financially solvent. Living with her even more financially solvent boyfriend. I don’t need your money, Jake.”
“Right, but it’s smart to have a cushion.” He tapped his pen on his desk in irritation.
“For the last time, I have a cushion!” The snap in her voice meant she was equally irritated. “When are you going to stop worrying about me and focus on yourself?”
“When one of us is dead,” he muttered. Lifelong habits were impossible to break, and he didn’t knowhowto stop worrying that his sister might lack for some creature comfort.
“You’re a pain in my ass, and I love you,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’ll still see you for turkey, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said. “Love you too.”
“What’s up, man?”
Robbie’s greeting from the reception desk slowed Jake’s attempt at an in-and-out mission to stash some paperwork in Brandon’s WNCB mailbox and be gone before anyone noticed him. His call with Finn had left him melancholy. She’d be at Thanksgiving on Thursday with Tom, along with his mom, his stepdad, and his favorite cousin Brandy, who’d bring both her knitting and her husband with her. He loved his family, but for the first time ever, his stomach hollowed out at the thought of facing it all without someone by his side.
WithoutMabelby his side. Mabel, who was in this building, one room away. Mabel, who’d texted with him earlier in the day about their favorite Thanksgiving foods. Surely that was an invitation to say a quick hello since he was there in person.
Decision made, he pushed the door open and went inside, where the lights blazing from the studio illuminated the woman inside. She was playing the Rolling Stones’ “Honkey Tonk Women,” and she was dancing. Hair wild, head back, arms up, hips gyrating. He stood still and watched her, content to drink in the fierce joy on her beautiful face. When she noticed him, her lips split into a grin, and she crooked a finger at him, gesturing him into the studio.
Okay. That was friendlier than he expected. He stepped into the booth, curious about her mood.
“You caught me!” She laughed. “It’s my favorite Stones song. How can you sit still while it’s playing?”
Her hips still twitched along with the beat, and Jake raised his eyebrows at her. “Don’t let me stop you.”
She smiled again and performed a little pirouette, tossing her hair. “You coming to the Moo Daddies show on Friday?” she asked, still shimmying to the music.
Jake actually had to close his eyes at the memory of what had happened at the other Moo Daddies show he’d watched. Mabel’s singing; the softness of her skin; the pounding, unslaked lust she’d unleashed in him. It had been one of the best and worst nights of his life, all rolled into one.
He leaned against the doorway, tipping his head to study her. “Do you want me there?”
She met his gaze. “Yes. I’d like that.”
A silence settled between them, and he was pretty sure they wereboththinking about the last show now.
He nodded once. “Then I’ll be there. Because you asked me to.”
Their gazes caught and held, and with a nervous little laugh, she asked, “Does that cut into family turkey time?”
“Not much, but I can’t miss the main event. Mom relies on me to mash the potatoes. Nobody else can match my silky texture.”
She moved around the soundboard to stand in front of him, her movements slowing to a gentle sway. “Handsome, smart,andhe cooks.” She tipped her chin up to look him in the eyes. “Be still my heart.”
Jake froze. This sounded dangerously like flirting. As he considered his response, the next song kicked in.
“‘Wild Horses,’” she said. “I was on a Stones kick when I programmed today’s music.”
She bit her lower lip, then stepped forward and sought out his hand with hers. He immediately seized the opportunity and the woman, snaking his other arm around her waist and pulling her toward him. They started to move together, and she relaxed against his chest, the top of her head just brushing his chin.
They danced in silence; Jake didn’t want to say anything to break the spell. She was warm against his body, her curves pressing into him, and he could feel the vibration as she hummed along to the song. And God, it feltright.
Unable to hold his tongue any longer, particularly because he was thinking about other things his tongue could be doing, he drew a breath to ask Mabel what exactly was going on. But she anticipated his question before he could speak.
“It’s just dancing, Jake.” She turned her head to nestle into his collarbone.
“It’s full-contact dancing, Mabel.” God, she had to feel how hard he was, pressed against her hip, didn’t she? But he didn’t let her go, and she didn’t move away.
She gave a tiny sigh, her breath ghosting across his neck. “Sorry. I’m in a weird place. I fought with Dave yesterday.”
