Chapter Nine #2
Charlotte and Melody squealed, grabbed Jo’s hands, and dragged her toward the table.
Avery moved out of the way and joined Marcus across the room.
She could feel the heat of his gaze on her as she pulled her laptop from her bag, but soon, she lost herself in Charlotte’s description of her wedding plans.
She laid out a couple of possibilities, what she liked and disliked about it, and they tweaked and expanded on more possibilities.
At one point, she looked up to see that Marcus had left, but Avery was showing Connie and Mary something on his phone. The next time she looked, Connie and Mary were alone and peeling potatoes.
Melody followed her line of sight. “I should go help.”
After Melody excused herself, Jo jotted down a few more options. Finally, she closed her laptop. “This is a great start. We can get together later for a tasting and make any changes.”
“Perfect.” Charlotte smiled. “I’m so excited we’ll be working together. Thank you.”
“I should be thanking you.”
“Avery says you might go freelance rather than work for someone else. We all think that’s smart and brave. You’re so talented. I know you’ll do well.”
He talks to his family about me? Wait. Is that what this is about?
Hot humiliation rippled through her, and the churning in her stomach started again. She was going to have ulcers by the end of this arrangement. “Charlotte, I hope he didn’t pressure you into this.”
“Are you kidding?” She shook her head. “I called him last Sunday and woke him up to ask if he thought you might be interested.”
“He never mentioned it.”
“He wanted to surprise you.”
Jo couldn’t figure him out. He’d waited all week, never said a word. Why would he go to all that trouble? He could have just given her number to Charlotte.
Charlotte slid out of her chair. “Let’s see if they need our help with anything. I can’t boil water, but I can chop things.”
“Of course.” Jo packed her things and took a moment to check her phone.
Brooke: OMG I got home and found Andrew just showed up. MOFO’s moving back to Houston and needs a place to stay until his apartment is ready. Aaron couldn’t say no. Could be weeks, maybe a month. His shit is everywhere.
Jo winced at the crying emoji that followed, then another angry one blowing smoke. Brooke and Aaron’s brother didn’t get along.
Jo: You can always come home until he leaves.
Nothing would make Jo happier, but Brooke was too stubborn to let Andrew push her out.
Brooke: If I leave, he might not. No, Aaron has a choice to make. But I swear if he doesn’t set Andrew straight, I’ll be knocking on your door.
Brooke: How are things going?
Jo: Whatever you need. Going great, but gotta go. Talk later.
Stuffing her phone into her back pocket, Jo joined the others, taking a spot at the end of the island. “What can I do?”
Before his mom could answer, Avery returned with Bryce Donovan—his best friend, according to her Google dive—and Kate Sullivan.
The son of the governor, Bryce ran the family law firm.
Rumor had it, he planned to follow his father’s footsteps into politics.
If he were running on looks alone, he’d win every vote.
With an athletic build, tawny hair, blue eyes, and a smile that could melt the hearts of his most cynical constituents.
I might even vote for him.
Kate looked a lot like Melody. Dark brown hair and eyes, but Kate had a sprinkle of freckles across her nose, hinting at her Irish descent.
Jo had the Irish part, especially the freckles, in common with her, but that’s where the similarities started and stopped.
Kate had an impressive resume, especially for someone so young.
Recently returned from Chicago, she was now head of legal at Preston Enterprises.
Jo felt Avery’s warmth beside her and looked up at him. He drove his fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead, and smiled at something someone said. Her belly fluttered. For some reason, she didn’t fight it. She liked this side of him–open, relaxed…so fucking hot.
The mother of all the hotness wiped her hands on a cup towel and rounded the island to greet her new guests.
“Hi, Mom.” Obviously close to Avery’s mother, Bryce gathered Connie into a bear hug, kissed her cheek, then parked himself between Avery and Kate, his arm around her waist drawing her into his side. “Sorry we’re late.”
“We stopped to get wine,” Kate said, blushing as she pulled a bottle of merlot from a slender tote.
“Is that what they’re calling it now?” Melody muttered under her breath and elbowed Kate.
The pink of Kate’s cheeks deepened, and everyone laughed, even Mary as she set the potatoes on the stovetop. The whole atmosphere felt foreign. Avery’s family was nothing like Jo’s, who couldn’t be in the same room together without sniping or complaining.
“Have you met Jo?” Connie asked.
Kate shook her head. “I’ve heard all about you, though.”
“You should only believe half of it”—Jo held up her thumb and forefinger with a bit of space between them—“and add a pinch of salt.”
When she lowered her hand onto the cold marble, Avery moved his away. Just an inch, but a sharp pang in her chest had her drawing hers back to grip the edge of the island. Had she said something wrong?
Her gaze flew to gauge Kate’s response, but she was all smiles as she turned to ask Melody something. Everyone else seemed pleasantly engaged. Except Connie. Her focus was locked on Jo’s white-knuckle hold on the countertop. Had she seen Avery pull away and her reaction?
Overreaction, you mean. Like now. You’re being paranoid.
Bryce and Kate were in love. No one would expect all that lovey-dovey shit from her and Avery.
Stop worrying. Everything is fine.
Yet even as Jo tried to relax, she was aware of Connie’s watchful eyes on her and Avery.
What if he was right and she wasn’t buying their lie?
Bryce held onto Kate as if he were afraid she’d disappear.
Kate’s touches were more subtle, but they were constant.
Avery hadn’t touched her once since they arrived.
As much as she wanted to stick to the rules, they weren’t realistic in this setting, and she and Avery both needed his mother to believe their relationship was real. Or at the very least, believe in the chemistry that kept him coming back for more.
Releasing her death grip on the counter, Jo shifted closer to Avery and laid her hand next to his. Her shoulder brushed his arm. A few seconds later, he shifted his weight the opposite direction.
She sighed inwardly. He was only doing as she requested, honoring the rules.
Or he’s just not that into you.
What difference does that make? You’re not here for that.
“Play with fire, you’ll get burned,” her grandma’s voice chimed in.
It’s only smoke and mirrors. Besides, I can survive a few blisters.
Trying again, she inched closer. And once more, after a brief moment, he moved over.
Now what?
The V of Connie’s delicate brow grew deeper, and so did Avery’s.
This wasn’t working. He practically flinched every time she got close.
If she moved any closer, he’d trip over Bryce to avoid her touch.
She bit back a smile as she imagined Bryce in turn falling against Kate, Kate against Melody, and on and on; they’d fall like dominos.
Jo sighed. She either needed to back off and let the chips fall where they would, or they needed to talk.
With a hand on Avery’s arm to keep him from climbing over Bryce to get away from her, she leaned in and asked, loud enough to be heard but not enough to interrupt, “Would you mind showing me where the restroom is?”
Rocking back on his heels—and away from her—he indicated she go ahead of him. They passed through the den and again he motioned her back the way they’d come earlier. At the foyer, he pointed to the right.
As soon as they rounded the corner, she moved to one side and said, “We need to talk.”
“I agree.”
They both spoke at once.
“You have to touch me,” she said.
“You have to quit touching me,” he growled.
Before she could blink, his hands were on her hips, driving her backward. Her back hit the wall behind her, one leg slicing between her thighs. His lips tipped into a smile as they aimed right for hers. “I thought you’d never ask.”
With nowhere to retreat from him or the thrill-seeking butterflies in her stomach, she flattened a palm on his chest to stop him. “What are you doing?”
“You just said—”
“I know what I said, but—” The rumble of voices echoed from the den, bouncing off the walls of the entryway.
His smile tilted into a sly grin. “Right.”
He grabbed her hand and started down a long hallway. His long legs ate up the ground so fast she had to trot to keep up with him.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere more private.”
“This is far enough. I don’t think they’ll hear.”
“Baby, the things I want to do to you… Believe me, they’ll hear you.”
“What?” She dug in her heels.
Spinning toward her, he yanked her against his chest and pinned her against the wall again, one hand at her throat, his thumb tipping her face toward his. His other hand smoothed over her hip to palm her ass and hauled her against his groin.
Her lips parted on a gasp as the ridge of his hard cock slammed against her clit. Pleasure spiraled into her core, and a moan rose in her throat, but she swallowed it down, grasped the back of his shirt with both hands, and pulled. “Wait, I—”
“I’m tired of waiting, tired of your fucking rules.
You’re driving me fucking crazy.” He lowered his mouth to her neck, stringing open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone.
“I’ve wanted to do this all fucking day.
All I could think about was touching you, kissing you, bending you over the fucking island, cramming you full of my cock, and wrecking your pussy. ”
She shivered at the raw lust in his deep, gravelly voice, at his hot breath against her skin, and at the fantasy he conjured. “That’s not, um…mmmmmm.”