How pragmatic. “Like some sort of farewell fuckfest.”
“The antidote.”
“If I follow your analogy, what am I? The dog?” The nonchalance in her voice managed to hide the jumbled thoughts racing in her brain.
He dipped his head and whispered in her ear, provoking her to an almost unbearable level, “No, baby. You’ve always been the venom.”
When they’d screwed on the stairs, it’d been impulsive and no words about it were exchanged afterward. Now, razors stuck in her throat. Sharp and powerful, like the desire pooling between her legs. However, would talking first and going over what could happen if they had sex again make things better or worse?
She closed her eyes, and soaked in the sensation of leaning against him until their foreheads touched. “You’re dangling a hot fudge sundae in front of me on the first day of my diet, Jack. That’s what you’re doing.”
He kissed her cheek. A small, quick peck that upped the level of sexual awareness even more. “You don’t need a diet,” he said gruffly.
But did she need to indulge in this temptation? What would the consequences be to her hard won, slowly growing, independence? “What I need is to think before I act.” She disengaged from him, and lifted her hand to her warm cheek. He frowned, and was leaning closer again when she stopped him with her hand. “I have to freshen up. I’ll be right back,” she said, willing her wobbly legs to walk all the way to the restroom. A sense of pride surged into her. She could have made an impulsive decision, but she’d preferred to think about it first.
Truth was, she needed a Jack-free diet. But would sleeping with him be like a cheat day or would it lead her to a lifetime addiction?
Jack clasped the tumbler—switchingto hard liquor had been the right choice to ease his anxiety. He glanced down at the amber contents, wishing that what was inside the glass had the answer to the question burning inside. Why did he propose they have no-stringssex?
You know why. Nothing made more sense other than addressing the urge, fixing the problem, and moving on. Sex was the only thing pulling them together, and it would be so much easier to say goodbye after that well had fully driedup.
She’d said it herself. They had as much in common as Champagne and Fritto pie. Even though he had a fat bank account, inside he was still a little boy abandoned by his mother—the boy with silly dreams to create a family of his own. A family he would never abandon. Meanwhile… leaving was in Lola’s agenda.
His wanting to have kids while he still could enjoy them had irked Lola after their marriage. She didn’t get him, and probably never would. But her understanding wasn’t what he needed.
“Jack.” He put his drink on a console table and nodded at the mayor.
“Mayor Wright.”
“What’s the story with the nice lady who spoke tome?”
Jack ran his hand down his face. He’d talked to the mayor at some social events, and Wright didn’t fall into the friend category. He’d made some donations to his campaign, as he had to his opponent. As a seasoned businessman, Jack knew the best way to deal with politicians was to donate every so often and not pursue any close friendships. “She’s my wife.” He doubted Wright would be interested in the details of his personallife.
The mayor patted his back. “Well, wow. I don’t remember hearing you got married. Congratulations.”
Jack waved him off, and glanced around them to make sure no one heard them. Bringing up his marital status in front of the upper crust of the entire county was not what he wanted. “That was a while ago. It’s a long story.”
Wright shook his head, apparently pleased with the news. “She should have told me she was your wife right away. I would have granted her the license sooner.”
Jack’s jaw clenched. The look in her eyes flashed in his mind, how satisfied and proud she’d been when she announced she nailed the task, just a few moments ago. “She wanted to solve the problem on her own,” hesaid.
Wright fixed his glasses. “Well, don’t worry. The moment I asked her about the ranch and she mentioned your name, I decided to help her.” He grinned, like he’d done Jack a goddamn favor.
“You didn’t have to,” he said. Was he saying it because he missed being one more obstacle in her way? Or because he had to bite his tongue to keep from shouting she could do it on her own? Jack reached for the scotch and downed a shot. Damn it. Listening to her had ruined his perception.
He didn’t want her to finish what she’d started—because a B&B would mean he would lose his home, the place where he grew up and loved. A side of him still knew he needed more time to consider her a winner in their deal. She’d overcome one obstacle, sure, and he was proud of her for trying. But, in the big scheme of things, she had a long path until she saw it through.
“That’s the least I could do. You’re a valuable member of our community. Now if you excuse me... I need to shake some hands.”
