Chapter 16 Presley
PRESLEY
I close the door as quietly as I can, tiptoeing away and hoping that a loose floorboard doesn’t betray me. Not sure why I’m so paranoid; Otis is out cold. Understandably after the morning at the Fall Festival.
Then again, as tired as he was—barely keeping his eyes open on the ride home—he did manage to find a second wind upon arrival when he discovered Jace wasn’t just dropping us off. That new realization was a breath of fresh air to his soul, even if it was short-lived.
“And he’s down…” I whisper, walking into the living room.
Jace smiles back at me, spread out on my couch like he belongs here. To be honest, there is a part of me that wouldn’t mind if he did. If we asked Otis, he would be all in. Jace is quickly climbing the ranks of his favorite people.
And while I’m happy that my kid likes Jace so much, I still need to really figure out how I feel about him. Because I’m pretty sure I like him too. And not the same way Otis does.
Oh, who are we kidding? I absolutely like Jace. Like that.
“He crash?” Jace asks, sitting up, his full attention on me.
It feels good, the way his eyes scan up and down my body, leaving a trail of heat. Leaving me feeling…special. Like I’m worth looking at.
“He did. He asked once again if you’d still be here when he woke up, but once I confirmed that you would be, just like you said a couple of minutes ago, he passed right out.”
I plop down on the couch, my legs aching from all the standing and walking we did this morning. I’m in okay-ish shape—nothing like what I was before Otis was born—but enough that I can keep up with the little ball of energy he is. Long runs just for fun are things of the past now that he’s mobile.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Jace winks, almost as if he’s letting me know that he means that in more than the obvious way.
My heart skips, trying not to let myself go there.
Just because we made out in his truck the other night, he held my hand for most of the time we were out today, and even stole a few kisses, doesn’t mean anything.
And I’m not about to make something out of nothing and open myself up to getting hurt.
“Take that however you want.”
Oh…so maybe he was trying to communicate more…
“I have to admit,” he continues, shaking his head. “I think my heart is still racing from discovering he’d wandered off.”
I gloat, just a little, loving that the payback came swiftly. And in a safe environment where all Otis did was wander off to one of Jace’s brothers.
“I tell myself there are worse things than having a kid who’s a runner, but it’s not an easy sell.”
“I don’t know what could be worse than that feeling.”
“He could be a biter. Every time daycare calls, I get a chill down my spine worrying that’s what they’re going to report. Or that he’s teaching the other kids how to curse.”
Jace laughs, shifting to face me on the couch. “About that, you really taught him to swear if a stranger tries to take him?”
I nod, feeling proud of said idea. “I did. And it’s a trick that Hayes personal safety will be putting out there too.
Think about it—what are you more likely to react to in public?
A kid screaming while an adult wrestles with them?
Or a kid screaming fuck! over and over again?
Pretty sure it’s the latter. Because we’re kinda self-trained to be immune to the former.
Or at least, to mind our own business. It’s hard to know if scenario one is an actual kidnapping or just a temper tantrum gone wrong. ”
Jace looks at me, his brow knitted in deep thought as he nods. He gets it, I can tell, but is still thinking through the whole thing. It’s a suggestion that catches everyone by surprise, but inevitably results in a “that’s a good idea.”
We can all thank my friend Kate for that one.
“Makes sense. Also, no biting, got it. Unless you like that kind of thing in other situations.”
Heat flushes up the back of my neck, and I look away. I don’t know how to respond to that, so I just smile, hoping that he’ll change the subject. To anything. Preferably something that doesn’t make me want to jump him.
Like work. We should talk about work.
“Thank you for all the material you sent over this week.” I break the silence, trying my best to hide the nerves in my voice.
“I was able to find some archive footage from a Hayes self-defense seminar, and I’m working on putting it all together.
I have about four reels so far, and I think they’ve turned out pretty good. If I do say so myself.”
“I’ll trust you on that.”
“You’re not much of a social media guy, huh?”
Jace shakes his head. “Nope. Better ways to spend my time.”
“Such as?” I ask, realizing too late how nosey that question is.
“Family, friends, reading.”
Did he just say reading? Didn’t see that coming.
“Reading? Really?”
Jace nods.
“Wow.” I blink hard, my brain whirring. Jace is a reader. “I’m jealous. I can’t remember the last time I read a book that wasn’t Goodnight Moon.”
“If you ever need a recommendation, I’m your man.”
I laugh, drawing my feet up onto the couch and tucking them under me. “I highly doubt we’re into the same books.”
“Try me.”
I swallow hard, not sure that I would even know how to question him.
It’s been that long since I read for fun.
To the point where I can’t even remember the title of the last book.
Undoubtedly it was something that Cody made fun of, but that’s not saying much.
I don’t think he’s cracked any kind of book his entire adult existence.
“Favorite genre?” I ask, turning the tables, trying to take the focus off me.
Jace smirks, like he knows he’s holding the winning hand at a poker game. “Romance.”
I freeze. Narrowing my eyes, I study him, trying to figure out where that answer came from.
If he’s trying to mock me. Or lead me on somehow.
He must have seen the small collection of books I have stacked in the built-in in my bedroom from pre-Otis days.
Ones I’m holding on to in the hopes that maybe one night before bed I’ll have the brainpower to read, rather than fall over from exhaustion.
“No, really. What do you like to read?” I push.
Jace scoots forward, pulling a leg out from under me and running his hand up my calf. The soft, easy touch tickles, even through my jeans, but is also soothing.
“Romance,” he repeats. “Owen dared me to read one in college, so I stole one of Willa’s. And to my surprise, I liked it. And not for the reasons you’re thinking.”
Busted…
“I wasn’t thinking anything.” I hold up my hands in mock surrender. It’s a lie; my mind did immediately go there. Assuming that he was only in it for the steamy bits.
He shrugs. “Everyone does. But they can think what they want. I enjoy the stories. Seeing all the fun ways that an author can take the same trope and spin it. Plus, there’s enough bad shit in the world; it’s nice to know the story will end happy.”
He’s not wrong about that.
“Plus, I’ve learned a few things.” He winks, pairing it with that trademark smirk, setting me on fire.
I swallow hard, my composure all but incinerated with that single move. I want to know. But I’m too afraid to ask. Too afraid of putting myself out there like that. Of opening up to where this conversation might lead.
I need to woman up. I’m a badass at work. I can be a badass at this too.
“Such as?”
Jace licks his lips, that sexy-as-fuck smirk managing to grow even bigger. It does things to me—things I can’t name or understand, but that leave me tingly and full of longing. Being on the receiving end of that look is the stuff of fantasies.
Very specifically, my fantasies.
“Are you asking for a show and tell?”
I….errrr…ummmmm…am I?
Silence fills the living room, the lack of sound so obvious I swear you could hear a cricket fart.
Or my heart slam against my chest as I try and think of a response.
One that is sexy and cute and actually makes Jace want to play show and tell.
Or pick up where we left off the other night before my mother called.
He raises a brow playfully, waiting on me to answer. There’s a tug in my chest, urging me to respond in kind.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to showing…” I mutter.
Shit, did I really say that out loud?
Jace’s shit-eating grin says it all. I did say that out loud. And loud enough for him to hear.
“Say that again.”
“Make me.”
“I’d rather just kiss you,” he says, shifting closer to me. Our legs touch, the heat between them distracting me for a second. “I really want to kiss you again, Presley.”
“You kissed me earlier. A couple of times.”
I regret the words as soon as they tumble out of me. It’s hard to tell if they sound coy and flirty, or completely stupid. I’m leaning toward the latter.
“Yeah, I did.” He huffs out a laugh. “But those weren’t enough. All they were was a tease. I want to kiss you—really, truly kiss you—until neither of us can breathe. I want to feel your curves in my hands, learn the landscape of your body so I can make you scream my name. I want…I want you.”
Holy shit…
I gasp. His admission feels like tossing a lit match into a gas tank, my insides exploding with white-hot need. The need for him to do all of those things. To me.
“I want that too.”
“Showing it is then.”
Before I can blink, Jace’s hands are on my hips, hauling me into his lap.
I feel as light as air as he moves me around, that tug in my chest turning into a tether as his mouth meets mine.
The spicy and undeniably irresistible taste of him takes over, flooding my senses.
Same as it did the other night in the truck.
I thought maybe I’d imagined that. There was no way his kiss was really that good. It was simply that it had been so long since anyone had kissed me mixed with the excitement of my high school crush that made me keep playing it over and over again in my mind. But now…now I stand corrected.
Jace Hayes’s kiss is that good.