Chapter 21
Trask knew he had to call Jett.
He hadn’t wanted to do it in front of the confounding woman’s father, though. Because who knew what she’d say, and how much crow he’d have to eat. She’d probably be gloating that he’d driven south to clear the air.
So instead, he’d made small talk with Randal for a few more minutes after the man had dropped his bomb about Jett’s whereabouts, then he’d made the excuse that he needed to get on the road back to Maine before the weather socked in.
Now, here he was, still parked outside Randal’s house, staring at his phone.
What the hell was he going to say?
Which begged the question, why had Jett flown to see him? Was it because she really wanted the job at Diver Downeast, or was she having a hard time dismissing the attraction that had risen between them…just like he was?
Yeah. He was admitting it to himself, goddammit.
He wanted more time with Jett.
On his terms, however.
He wanted to see if she was…tame-able, for lack of a better word.
If he could at least smooth out some of her rough edges, school her in a few behaviors, she’d make a good partner.
Possibly a very good partner. They already had hella chemistry, and had worked a job together like they’d been doing it for years, which was a great start, but some of her…
spontaneity definitely needed to be curbed.
If she could live with that, so could he.
Feeling a little more upbeat, Trask dragged air into his lungs and hit her number.
It rang once.
“Well, hello to you,” Jett answered cheekily. “Give me a second.”
She called over to who Trask assumed were his brothers. “I’m going to step out of your shop for a minute and take this call from Trask.”
He heard male laughter, some taunting—the assholes—then a minute of silence before…
“Doesn’t this beat all?” she chortled. “I’m here and you’re there. So how do we play this now, big guy?”
Trask, for once, appreciated her directness. He knew exactly what needed to happen.
“You stay put,” he told her. “I’ll head home. Then once we’ve had a chance to…air our issues with each other, we’ll see if you still want a job at Diver Downeast. What do you say? We have a talk, then go from there?”
There was a stifled giggle from Jett, or at least that’s what Trask thought he heard.
What was—?
“Oh. I’ve already accepted the job,” she apprised him pertly in the next second. “Your brothers offered me the position, and they were very convincing. So here I am, unless…”
Unless what? Trask wanted to ask.
But his ire was instantly raised. Spence and Buck, the assholes, had flipped the switch on Jett being hired without him being present? Yeah. They’d be gleefully throwing that in his face. This was a turn of events he hadn’t considered.
He took a deep breath to calm himself, wanting—but not wanting—her to continue.
“Unless…” he reluctantly prompted.
“Unless it’s going to cause too much dissent between you and your siblings that you didn’t have final say after…
everything that went on with us. In which case I’ll back out.
But if it’s just me with whom you’ll have an issue, I’ll stay and duke it out with you until we either resolve our differences, or one of us cries ‘uncle’. ”
Trask opened and closed his mouth like a beached fish.
How did he respond to that?
After a moment’s thought, he made up his mind.
She’d been bluntly honest, so he would too.
“My brothers and I have been bickering for years, so nothing, not even you, will ever drive a wedge between us. Which means I wouldn’t be taking any of my…irritation out on them.”
“But you would take it out on me. Is that what you’re saying?”
Why had her voice dropped into a suggestive register?
Oh, fuck. Was she referencing his…heavy-handedness? His need to dominate in bed? He thought maybe he’d escaped that conversation for the time being, but clearly he’d been dead wrong.
The situation, now laid out on the table, needed to be addressed.
“About that.” He cleared his throat. “I’m…sorry it happened.”
“Nice apology, but I call bullcrap,” Jett returned, a scold apparent in her tone. “You’re not sorry it happened, and neither am I.”
“You’re not?” Now his voice seemed to have lost an octave.
“Duh,” she responded, and he could almost see her eyes rolling. “I loved every minute of what we did, and you know it. The only thing that pissed me off, is that you stopped.”
It had been the same for him, but…
Trask needed to reset Jett’s expectations where he was concerned.
He did want more of that with her, for sure, but he couldn’t let her know that. She’d made him tip so far off center, he wasn’t willing to risk having any more intense, physical encounters with her.
Never, in all his years, had Trask given a woman power over him, and he feared that Jett would be the one who broke that streak if he let her in.
Not happening.
If he said, instead, that he’d ended their encounter because he just wasn’t feeling it, she’d be hurt, but it would make her back the hell off.
And that’s just what he needed.
He could taste the lie, bitter on his tongue as he began. “I hate to say this, but I actually stopped because—"
“Because you were scared,” she interjected with a certainty that had Trask reeling.
“Wha…?” he stumbled, but regrouped immediately.
“No. I was not scared. I was…” He had to make this good.
“…underwhelmed. Listen. I knew you’d take it badly if I said I wasn’t feeling things with you, but I didn’t want you to be hurt.
So I decided to use the excuse that we were both tired from our long day, and that the reason things got out of hand was mind-fog on my part.
Which is my way of saying that I wanted to let you down easily.
That seems to have gone poorly. So I’m sorry.
I’m sorry if I made you question yourself. That wasn’t my intent in pulling away.”
“What was your intent?” she asked, a little too astutely.
He huffed. “I just told you. To make you believe that the whole…thing that happened was because of a brain freeze instead of incompatibility. And to hope that once you came to grips with that, we could move forward and have you agree to work for Diver Downeast. Even if you decided you hated my guts,” he ended.
“Trask, can you hold on for a moment please?” she asked sweetly.
“Uh, sure.”
Ahh, hell. This wasn’t even close to any response he’d been imagining.
He heard the phone hit the ground with a thud, then…
Clap, clap, clap.
What the fuck?
Jett came back on the line.
“And that was…?” Trask bit out.
“That was me, applauding for a stellar performance. It’s too bad you put so much effort into that soliloquy, though, because I still don’t believe you.”
She continued before he could respond.
“And do you know who else understands what a baldfaced lie you just spewed? Your dick,” she snapped. “In all my years, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered one so…vested. He was on board, and as hard as one, from the first second, and raring to go even as you backed away.”
She was letting him have it with both barrels, and since he had no idea how to respond, he let her continue.
“So next time you want to spew untruths like ‘mind-fog’ and ‘brain-freeze’, tell your little soldier to get with the program. Because if you don’t, you’re going to be called out on those fibs, buster.
Admit it. You liked it, and we both know it.
You were just being a little pussy about being caught off guard by your true feelings. ”
Anger threatened to overwhelm him.
But before it could, something inside Trask…shifted.
A feeling—something odd—bubbled up inside him, completely taking over.
Before he could figure out what it was, he was laughing.
Laughing.
Outright. Loudly. And hysterically. Like a loon.
“Uh, Trask?” Jett attempted, but he was too far gone to answer right away.
“Trask,” she clipped again after a minute or two. “Hey. Are you okay?”
If anyone had asked him that any time over the past few months, he would have said no. But right this minute? Yes. Trask was feeling mighty fine.
Who knew? It seemed that after a suck winter, Jett was just what he needed.
“Fine,” he finally managed, wiping his eyes. “Yes, I’m fine.”
She still sounded suspicious. “Does that mean you’re going to stop pretending you don’t feel something…
combustible when we’re interacting? And I’m not just talking about what we did on your bed.
I’m talking about every time we engage in any way.
Like now. We’re miles apart, on the phone, and the airwaves are sizzling. ”
She wasn’t wrong. The excitement between them was palpable.
Even long-distance. But she was wrong about the reason for it being both of them.
The fizz in the firmament had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with her.
She was so damned…alive; unpredictable. Trask never knew what was going to come out of her mouth, and it wound him up, taking him on a wild-ass ride.
He owed it to her to let her know his thoughts.
“It’s you,” he told her bluntly. “I’m not whimsical, humorous, or spontaneous.
I don’t burn up phone lines, nor do I ever let circumstances dictate how I act.
But with you…” Trask tried to find the right words.
“…all bets are off. I have no idea how you manage to rev me up, but you do, and I’ll admit it. ”
“Whew,” Jett responded. “Finally. Now we’re getting somewhere. At least you’re admitting that something’s happening between us, and I’ll take that. For now. But you still haven’t answered every part of my original question.”
“Which was?” Trask, for the life of him, couldn’t remember how this whole conversation had started.
“You assured me you wouldn’t take it out on your brothers for hiring me, but you didn’t say if you’d be taking your irritation out on me if you have to see me every day?”
Trask drew in a deep breath and considered that.
Irritation wasn’t exactly the word he’d use.
Yes, Jett was like a sticker-burr in his skin, but it was more like that barb was needling him into feeling things again; forcing him out his comfort zone with some well-placed jabs.
Did he like it?
He’d tried to convince himself he didn’t, but how was that working out for him? She’d driven him to uncharacteristic laughter a few minutes earlier.
He was so screwed.
“I find myself actually wanting to see you every day,” he finally admitted. “And I’m sorry if I’ve been…difficult. This is no excuse, but I haven’t exactly been myself since I separated from the service.”
Or for the few months before that, he declined to say, but he wasn’t ready to go there yet, with her or any of his family.
“What you’ve done,” he continued, “is managed to shake some life back into me, for which I’m grateful.”
“Is…is that a compliment?” Jett returned incredulously.
“Don’t push your luck,” Trask rasped. “But yes. It is. And I’m going to add something else I’ll probably regret almost as soon as it’s out of my mouth, but this is what you do to me,” he confessed. “You make me say things out loud that I would normally keep inside my head.”
“I can’t wait to hear this,” she responded. “Should I sit down? Although it’s starting to snow, so my butt will get wet if I plunk it onto the sidewalk.”
“See?” Trask huffed. “Now I’m thinking about your ass.”
“Mmmm,” she returned huskily. “And now I’m thinking of your big old hand in regards to my ass.”
“Jett,” Trask warned with a groan.
“Tra-ask,” she countered, drawing his name out sassily.
“Why shouldn’t we talk about this? One, we’re attracted to each other, which, if you recall, you admitted right before our first kiss, but have been trying to back-track on, ever since.
Two,” she enumerated, “we’re adults, and we don’t have to answer to anybody for how we feel.
And three, I have one concern. Are we going to be able to work together and still jump each other’s bones?
Because that’s going to weigh heavily on my part of the employment decision. ”
“See? That right there. We began this by talking about you working or not working for Diver Downeast, and now you’ve added in a sexual element. How am I supposed to handle that?”
“With both hands,” she purred, and lowered her voice. “One on that ass you mentioned, teaching me some manners, while the other zeros in on another of my most eager erogenous zones.”
Trask groaned, and his cock got hard. Really, really hard. Had that ever happened over the phone before, because… Hey. Was this…?
“Is this phone sex?” he asked, before he could slap the governor on his mouth.
Jett chortled, clearly overjoyed. “Do you want it to be?”