Chapter 4
four
Jaclyn
Growing up in foster care doesn’t prepare you for life.
No one abused me; they mostly just ignored me, which is almost as bad, I guess.
I quickly learned how to take care of myself.
Relying on anyone else meant disappointment.
It also taught me to be quiet and shrink into the background.
Mostly, I kept to myself until I met Cheri in college.
She’s my first real friend. I am who I am because of her.
I swear she’s turned extracting me from my introverted shell into her life’s work—that and writing titillating books that make her lots of money.
Yup, this is the newer, better version of me.
Andrew is practically dragging me into the kitchen.
Not that I’m complaining about him holding my hand, just the dragging to meet his family part.
My instinct is to pull away and run for the front door.
But where would I go? I’m miles away from anywhere, and the only jungle I know is concrete.
Spending the night in the woods with the beasties?
Nope, not on my bingo card for this week—or ever.
What’s worse is I know they suspect me of whatever, but who knows what they think I did.
My intent was to bring this to their attention, not to stir up trouble for anyone.
Definitely not for me. Why didn’t anyone else find the addendum?
I can’t stop thinking about it, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
Being social or even explaining myself on top of that? I’ll fail every time. It’s another reason I chose contract law. I can sit in an office and not have to try cases—usually, anyway. There might be a time, but it won’t be for years since I’m a junior attorney on the team.
I should have tried harder to explain instead of panicking.
I don’t know why I lost it. Before Andrew picked me up and sat me in his lap, I was a heartbeat away from a complete meltdown.
Why did he pick me up? His gaze softened as he held me.
For those few moments, I wasn’t afraid. Deep down, I know he’ll protect me, even if he doesn’t trust me yet.
It’s comforting, or was until all the chatter stops, like everyone is suddenly holding their breath until they can figure out what will happen next.
That stillness before the other shoe drops—and I’m the other shoe.
We stop near the end of the island, and eight sets of eyes focus me. Eight people who think I’m up to something. Not that Andrew has come right out and said it, but it was obvious from his questions, and in his and his brothers’ eyes.
I don’t blame them, not really. Explaining everything would have helped and probably fixed everything.
If I had, maybe I’d be on my way to the airport instead of whatever this dumpster fire is.
Too bad I can’t get away, even for five minutes, to call Cheri.
She’d talk me off the ledge. Or threaten to show up with a shovel and some lime.
Instead, I’m standing at the edge of the lion’s den, alone without reinforcements.
Andrew squeezes my hand, and I tip my head up at him—okay, so maybe I have some support here—the freaking giant standing by my side.
I’ve never felt as tiny as I do right now.
Every time he flexes, the white button-down pulls tightly across his chest, shoulders, and muscular arms. Speaking of arms. Sweet baby Jesus—can you say arm porn? Veiny forearms are such a turn-on.
Am I drooling? I slide my tongue out to check, and Andrew’s nostrils flare. Oh, man. Sucking in a breath, I pull my gaze away and turn toward the rest of the family. Not an ugly one among them. How is that even possible? They must have some excellent genes.
Damn, he’s totally drool-worthy from head to toe. But his eyes? Holy Mother of God, they’re the deepest sapphire blue I’ve ever seen—a person could get lost in them. Not me, but some other person. Someone else, more in his league. Because, fuck my life.
I spent the last few years researching companies I wanted to work for until I came across JNG. Until then, I had narrowed it down to five different corporations, but when I saw Andrew’s company photo, JNG moved to the top of the list.
Andrew Gallant has been my secret, or not-so-secret crush for years.
Cheri knows, but not how bad it’s gotten.
After she introduced me to DD/lg books, all my fantasies have been of Andrew in full Daddy Dom mode, though I have no idea if he even knows about that particular kink.
Is it any wonder I’m totally tongue-tied in front of the man?
“Everyone, this is Jaclyn Tanner. She’s one of our contract attorneys and will be staying on the mountain for a while.”
A while? What does that mean? A day? A week?
I only brought enough clothes for three days.
Crap. I need to pay better attention to my surroundings.
Getting lost in my head around others is not safe.
Nope, I’m always hyperaware of everything.
So why is holding Andrew’s hand making me forget where I am?
A short woman with long honey-blonde hair and large hazel eyes smiles at me as she introduces herself, “Hi, Jaclyn, I’m Emma. Welcome to the mountain. The hulking beast next to me is Asher, my husband.”
Before I can answer, a redhead with striking eyes speaks.
“I’m Rebekah. We hope you enjoy your visit. I’m married to Adam, the more handsome twin.” She giggles as a man, whom I assume is her husband, wraps his arm around her waist and squeezes her tight.
“I’m Adam. That’s Aaric, his wife, Hannah, and their baby girl.” He points to the man who looks exactly like him, although his beard might be a tad shorter. He’s standing with a woman with long, light, curly blonde hair who’s holding a baby.
Shit. They’re waiting for me to say something.
Andrew rubs his thumb over the back of my hand, offering his support.
I can do this. I’m a fully functioning human.
The words come out rushed, my voice breathy as I answer, “It’s nice to meet you.
Your home is lovely.” I sound ridiculous, I know I do. I never learned how to do any of this.
Andrew takes pity on me and pulls me over to an empty chair at the island. “C’mon, let’s eat before it gets cold. Whose turn was it to cook tonight?”
“Ours,” Adam says. “Rebekah was craving lasagna.”
The men nod, as if it’s a given because his wife wanted it. Is this how actual families act? I never knew my father. And my mother—let’s just say she was never maternal.
Andrew takes the seat next to me and leans close.
Is he going to kiss me? Although why that thought pops into my head, craziness.
But no, not a kiss, but his breath against my ear is just as sensual.
“You don’t need to eat anything you don’t like, but I do insist you eat. Are you allergic to anything?”
I can barely force words out of my mouth; it’s so dry. If I turn just a little toward him, his lips will touch my ear. Heat rises over my neck and my face for the millionth time since I walked into this house. I feel the dampness in my panties, too. What the hell is this man doing to me?
“No allergies,” I murmur.
“Good. So that means you’ll eat what I put on your plate.” He winks, then grabs a plate and begins adding food from every dish.
Why didn’t I tell him no? I can’t believe how much food he’s piling on my plate. I eat better now that I have a decent paycheck and Cheri and I share expenses, but we don’t eat like this.
As he puts the mountain of food in front of me, I look at the overloaded plate.
I’m about to tell him to take some for himself, and I’ll get my own when I notice all the married brothers are doing the same thing for their wives.
No one thinks it’s strange, but isn’t it?
I mean, they’re all adult women. Surely, they can get their own food.
I find my voice and whisper to Andrew, “I can’t eat all of this. It’s enough food for three days…”
“Just eat what you can, Sweetpea. But don’t push it around your plate and think I won’t notice.
Your body needs fuel.” His tone is different.
More dominant. Fuck. It’s enough to soak my panties.
Now I’m fighting the need to squirm in my chair.
The last thing I need is for anyone to know I’m attracted to Andrew.
The Gallant family dynamic is enlightening. Having never been part of a family, I don’t know whether this is normal or if they’re different. I’ll have to ask Cheri when I have a chance. Her family is enormous. When they get together, I’m sure it’s similar.
I love how the men take care of their wives, but it doesn’t feel suffocating.
It’s obvious how much they are in love, and I sigh partly from jealousy and partly because it’s beautiful to see.
It’s like a fairytale—you read them but never expect to find it for yourself.
Since I began reading romance, the desire for a happily ever after has gotten worse.
Heroes who would die for their women, fighting for them until their last breath if necessary.
That kind of love can’t be real, can it?
“Eat before it gets cold, Sweetpea,” Andrew says, only loud enough for me to hear.
The endearment registers in my brain, and I realize it’s not the first time he’s said it.
Why? It’s sweet, but it makes me feel a little weird.
I should be objecting. It’s not proper, right?
He’s my boss, even if it’s indirectly. Don’t most companies have a no-fraternization policy?
I can’t remember whether JNG does or not.
It’s not like I was worried about having a relationship with anyone, just making sure I got the job.
Shit. HR will have a coronary if they find out. Oh God. I sat on his lap! I’m so screwed.