Chapter 17
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Markie
“So, you wanna talk, huh?” I ask Jory as he sits on the couch.
He takes both of my hands in his, pulling me in front of him. His eyes sparkle, telling me that talking isn’t at all what he wants to do. But he’s too much of a gentleman to do that.
I smirk. Don’t worry, big guy. I’ll break you of that before the night is over.
“Markie …”
He takes a breath as if he’s practiced this speech a hundred times and is gathering the courage to go for it.
But before he can speak, my phone rings on the kitchen table.
I have about as much interest in answering it as he has in talking to me at the moment, but he delayed my gratification last night. I’m nothing if not petty.
“Hold that thought,” I say, pulling my hands away. “I need to get that.” His eyes widen as I pivot toward the kitchen. “I’m waiting on a call from Mira, and she needs my input, or I’ll hold everything up. It’s hard being the one that everyone counts on for direction.”
I think. I’d have to ask Astrid if that’s true.
“Hey,” I say brightly after answering the call.
“Why do you sound so happy to talk to me?”
“Work with me,” I whisper before turning back to the living room. Jory’s sitting on the couch right where I left him. “Did you get with Audrey on our questions?”
Mira sighs. “I don’t want to know.”
I laugh. “You’re right. Gianna would think this is entirely more entertaining than you.”
“Oh, Markie.” She snorts. “I’m just going to say what I need to say. You can listen and respond however you want, and I’ll just assume you’ll call me after you get home and fill in the details if your answers don’t make sense.”
“That’s a great idea. I’m so glad you thought of it.”
She bursts out laughing. I hear Hartley in the background, asking what she’s laughing at. That makes me laugh again.
Jory’s brows pull together. I wink at him.
“What did Auddie say?” I ask.
When I met Mira after church to go over our part of the wedding, we came up with a list of unanswered questions for the bride and groom.
Neither of them would answer their phones, probably following through on the whispered promises Brooks made to Audrey while we were waiting to exit the church, which we happened to overhear.
So, we abandoned our efforts, and I went home, waiting on six thirty to roll around.
Because no matter how much I wanted to just come to Jory’s, desperation never looks good, and I got a little too close to that fire last night.
“You want to do this now?” Mira asks, surprised.
The anticipation is killing Jory. Relax. It’s only going to get so much worse.
I grin. “Of course, I have time. I’ve been waiting on your call.” I quickly look at Jory, remembering that I told him I’d be with Mira until six thirty. “You got back to me much faster than I expected since I only left your house a while ago.”
His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say a word.
“Oh, boy,” my sister says, blowing out a breath.
“Okay, then. The final head count for the wedding is thirty-two. Everyone has RSVP’d, so we’re set on that.
But, because it’s such a small wedding, they’ve decided not to have bridesmaids and groomsmen because we’re essentially half of the guest list. So, that makes things simpler. ”
“I love that idea.”
“I bet you do. I could say anything right now, and you’d love that idea.”
“That might be a little exaggerated, but go on.”
As she rambles on about their choice to get married in the barn and not in the church, and when the florist is coming to decorate and a bunch of details that don’t really involve me, I set my sights back on the man in front of me.
Leaning back against the cushions, his knees spread apart, I mosey my way to him. The closer I get, the more his chest rises and falls. His eyes turn a deeper shade of green. His jaw muscles flex.
The man is a fucking dream.
I pick up the edge of my dress and straddle his thigh before letting the hem fall again. A slow smile stretches across his lips. That, in turn, makes me smile. Because if he thinks it’s going to be this easy, he’s mistaken.
“The only hiccup,” Mira says, “is that Violet Crowder can’t play the piano if they’re having the wedding in the barn. The ground is too uneven out there, and she’s afraid she’ll fall.”
I frown—both at her words and at the fact that Jory hasn’t tried to touch me. “Shit. Audrey really wanted the ‘Bridal Chorus’ played live for some reason. I don’t know what we do now. Is this even in our area or Astrid’s? She’s the wedding planner.”
“Ours. I told her we’d take care of it. But now we need to find someone else to play the piano.”
“Okay, well, we’ll find someone else who can play the piano. Let me call the school tomorrow …”
Jory points at himself. “I play the piano,” he says quietly.
I raise a brow, certain he’s screwing with me.
“I do. I mean, just saying,” he says.
“Mira, hang on.” I hold the phone at my hip. “You play the piano? For real?”
“Yup.”
My eyes roll. “Of course you do.”
He chuckles.
“Would you like to play the wedding march thing for Audrey’s wedding next weekend?” I ask. “It’s in a barn just outside of town. Thirty people, give or take, will be there. She just wants it played live as a tribute to her grandmother, and we can’t find anyone who can play.”
“Do you have a keyboard?” he asks. “Preferably a full-size one.”
“Um, yes,” I say, trying to remember exactly what Cathy mentioned that she could get her hands on. “We do, and I think it’s a full-size one, but I can check.”
He nods, shrugging. “Sure. If it helps, and the bride doesn’t mind a random guy playing at her wedding, I can do it.”
I bring the phone back to my ear. “Pianist secured. What else do we need?”
Jory reaches out slowly, his palms gripping my waist. Our gazes meet, and when they do, I can nearly hear the crackle of energy in the air.
Instantly, I’m soaked. Whether it’s from imagining him playing the piano, the look in his eyes, or the way his hands caress my hips before they run down the sides of my legs, I’m ready to end this call and refocus on him.
“I’ll tell you what I need,” he whispers, his eyes locked on mine. He toys with the edge of my dress, silently asking permission to lift it. When I smirk, his fingertips dip beneath the fabric.
Jory’s Adam’s apple bobs as his skin brushes mine. I try to play it cool and pretend that I’m not affected by his touch, that I’m not dying for him to move his hands higher. But the shiver that dances along my spine as he slides his palms up the front of my thighs gives me away.
He lifts a brow, pleased with himself.
I have no idea what Mira says, but I answer her anyway. “That’s too bad. It was offered only yesterday, but it was turned down.”
The corner of Jory’s mouth tips toward the ceiling.
“That makes no sense, Markie,” Mira says.
“It does. Trust me,” I say, sucking in a harried breath as his hands roll over my hips and onto my bare ass.
His eyes widen. “Are you for real right now?”
“Sometimes it’s good to know what you could’ve had,” I say into the phone, confusing the hell out of my sister, and backing away from Jory. “There are times when you just have to react and not hesitate.”
He makes no effort to hide his erection as he adjusts it with his hand. It’s also obvious by the way he’s looking at me that he knows I’m using his words from practice against him.
“I can’t do this with you,” Mira says. “But I hope it was helpful in doing whatever debaucherous thing you’re up to right now.”
My gaze falls to Jory’s crotch and the proof of his attraction to me. Gianna will be happy to hear that her prediction was correct. It’ll definitely choke a girl.
“That sounds great,” I say. “Call me tomorrow. But not early.”
She laughs. “Understood. Bye, Markie.”
“Bye.”
I’ve never ended a call so fast in my life.
“That’s never happened to me before,” he says, falling back into the cushions again.
I toss my phone on the chair by the window. “What’s that?”
“I’ve never had someone have a conversation with me but not to me.” He grins. “You’re a woman of many skills.”
“The likes of which you’ll never know because you’re too … nice.”
He sits up quickly, reaching for me. Unfortunately for him, I’m prepared. I step back, out of reach, before he can grab me.
“Stop it,” he says, his jaw twitching. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, me too.”
He runs his tongue across his bottom lip. “You’re the one who told my child that we were dating.”
“I said we were kind of dating,” I say, appreciating the way the front of my dress chose this moment to droop. The lacy edge of my bra emphasizes the curve of my breasts, and the fact is not lost on Jory. “But I came over here to tutor your child, and he’s gone, so I should probably go, too.”
“Fine. But I have one question before you go.”
“Let’s hear it.”
A smug grin plays on his lips. “Did you really show up here tonight with no panties?”
My blood floods with heat and it licks my veins as it flows through my body. Wetness coats my thighs as he undresses me with his eyes. The way he looks at me, like he wants to devour me, is my catnip.
“Maybe I never wear them,” I say, wearing a smug grin of my own.
“Maybe you did it to taunt me.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “Maybe not.”
He folds his hands together between his knees, working them back and forth until the knuckles crack. His eyes never leave mine as he chooses his next move. Because the next move is his. What he decides to do makes all the difference.
“You said earlier that I’d be sorry today for turning you down last night,” he says, his voice low.
“And you were wrong. I was sorry I did it as soon as you walked out.” He unfolds his body and stands, blowing out a breath as if he’s trying to slow himself down.
“Just like you didn’t need me to save you from Jasper last night, you sure as hell didn’t need me making decisions for you either—regardless of my intentions. So, for that, I’m sorry, too.”
His words, and the sincere way he says them, make me feel wonderfully off-balance.
It’s quite possibly the first apology that I’ve ever received from a man, and I believe he meant it.
And it’s for sure the first time I’ve ever felt heard and understood, specifically without having to put a PowerPoint together to drive home why how I feel matters.
Wow.
I didn’t quite know what to expect when I arrived here tonight. I imagined there would be an apology, and I figured things would be fine before I left. What I didn’t anticipate, but should’ve, was for him to be so genuine, so honest, and so … right.
Jory Plath is a wonder, and being in his orbit makes it hard to breathe.
But listening to his maturity, his care—it steals any breath I could manage to take.
And the only place I want to be is wrapped up in his arms again …
the first place in a very, very long time where I felt like if the world fell apart, it wouldn’t all fall on me.
“I think, in retrospect, that I was trying too hard to prove that I wasn’t like the guys you know,” he says.
“I didn’t want you to think that I wanted anything from you, and I wanted you to know how much I respect you.
How seriously I’m taking things that I know are important to you, like winning the tournament. ”
My throat tightens at his sweet words and the honesty embedded in every one of them. I believe him. And for me to believe anything that comes out of a man’s mouth is wild in and of itself.
But if anything else is true besides knowing that Jory means what he says, it’s that Jory means what he says. And he’s not about to touch me if I don’t make it absolutely clear that I want him to.
It’s a damn good thing that I speak that language. And it’s also a damn good thing that I’m okay with having a fling with this man. He might be a unicorn among men, but he’s a temporary unicorn—a fake boyfriend who will pay off in more ways than one. And I’ll take that, thank you very much.
My patience, or stubbornness, maybe, has paid off.
“Here’s the thing,” I say, as my teeth catch my lower lip.
His gaze falls to my mouth—right where I want it …
for the time being. “I know that you respect me and that you’re taking the tournament seriously, and I appreciate that.
But I’d really, really like for you to want other things from me, too. ”
His gaze lifts to mine.
I grin. “But if coming over here with no panties on doesn’t explain what it is that I’m after, then—ah!”
My shriek pierces the air as he lunges forward.
He wraps me up in one arm and slings me over his shoulder like I’m a feather.
My blood should be racing to my head at this angle.
Instead, with my ass up in the air, my body defies gravity and pools blood in my groin.
My dress is pinched to his shoulder beneath my belly and gathered by gravity halfway to my shoulders on the backside.
My clit throbs.
His palm comes down on the globe of my ass cheek as he hauls me into the bedroom.