Chapter 6 #2
Gus hollered, “If you say so, Jessie.”
“I say so,” she said. “And I want you to remember me whenever you take a drink of your favorite brew. And then I want you to make sure to fill out your ballot on election day. We have mail-in ballots, so you have no excuse. Even the laziest of you ought to be able to do something.”
“Not the felons,” said one of the men in the back.
“True enough,” Jessie said. “So those of you who can’t cast your own vote need to encourage other people to do it.”
“Are you going to make gambling legal?”
“Well, I don’t have the power to change laws. But I’ll have the power to oversee local ordinances.”
“And what good does that do most of us?”
“Maybe nothing,” Jessie said. “Maybe there won’t be a damned lick of good that I can do directly for some of you.
But if there is, I’ll listen to you. And that’s more than you’re going to get from the likes of Danielle LeFevre.
Also, I’m cooler than she is.” To punctuate the point, Gus handed her a glass of beer, and Jessie started to drink it down, to the cheers and encouragement of the people in the room.
And in just a few seconds, she had drained it.
She set it down hard on the bar top. “Vote for Jessie Jane Hancock!”
Then she hopped down off the bar, bypassing the stool completely, to a round of thunderous applause.
“She is a lot,” Cassidy said.
“Yeah. God damn.”
At that point, Jessie was swarmed by bar patrons who all had some story to tell her about Danielle, or a comment to make about what her platform should be. “What about you, Wilder?” One of the older men, Nate Schloot, looked down his long nose at Flynn.
“I don’t just endorse her,” Flynn said. “I’m dating her.”
The sound that arose from the bar was riotous. “You heard it here first,” Jessie said. “He’ll be the first man.”
“That I’d pay to see,” Nate said, laughing until tears ran down his cheeks.
Well, they were certainly making the splash she had hoped they would make, though it was with the crowd most likely to be friendly to them.
“You don’t have to pay,” Jessie said. “You just have to vote. Now, I am buying you all a drink, but if you want to contribute to my campaign, you can play darts against my brother, or pool against me.” She spread her hands wide. “Loser gets to help support my domination of Rustler Mountain.”
And that really kicked things off. He would say this for Jessie, she was definitely one who knew how to cause a scene.
Although West didn’t seem to be picking up his darts too quickly.
He did eventually, though. Flynn knew what it was like to have a younger sister who could talk you into almost anything.
The alcohol was flowing, and Jessie was handily beating people at pool. “Challenge your lady,” Dalton said. He was getting a little deep in his cups and apparently wanted to be punched in the face.
“Oh, I am already giving to her campaign.”
“Come on,” Cassidy said. “Play.”
“You better watch it.”
“Flynn?”
He turned and looked across the bar to see Jessie standing there looking at him.
“I’m going to win,” he said, standing up and making his way toward her.
“Are you?”
“Yes, Jessie, I am. But either way, I support your campaign.”
Everyone was watching them, and his heart was beating just a little bit too hard. Because there was something about her. There was just something about her.
She held a pool cue out to him, and he grabbed it, but she didn’t let go, so he ended up pulling her bodily toward him. She looked up at him, a small smile on her lips. “I’m very good at this.” She moved her hand up the pool cue just slightly, and he felt the motion resonate in his dick.
They were performing, and he knew that. Except, had they ever really been performing?
In spite of himself, he was taken in by her performance.
He knew that it was for the people around them and had nothing to do with the thing between the two of them, but still …
He just couldn’t be immune to her. And it was damned ridiculous, because he had known this woman for years.
And all that time, he had managed to keep his distance.
Here he was. It was like a study in self-sabotage.
But why not? Why not give in? You’re already working with her. You’re already helping her with her election. What difference does it make if the two of you blow off a little steam?
Except there was something inside him, the thing that had always resisted getting involved, that pulled him back even now.
A part of him had known all this time that he needed to stay away from Jessie, whether it was because she was a Hancock, or because of the intensity of the attraction between them, he couldn’t say.
But there had always been something. Just as the attraction had always been there, so had the aversion to giving in to it.
And yet he found himself grasping hold of the pool cue, right over the top of her hand, and rubbing his thumb across the back of her knuckles. “I’ll play, if you let go of the stick.”
Her face went bright red, and she released her hold on the pool cue. That made him feel that he had a little bit more power here. That he wasn’t being completely dog-walked by her.
He had so much experience with sex. He knew what he wanted, and he got it whenever he needed it. It had never made any sense that she felt like this mythical creature. This person right in front of him that he couldn’t reach out and touch no matter how badly he wanted to.
No. It had never made sense.
And yet, she did the same thing with him. Rumor had it she went after whatever she wanted. She was happy to flirt, happy to tease. By all accounts, she was a great time. Yet she stayed away from him. Acted as if he was as ridiculous an option as she was to him.
Maybe that was why the attraction was so hot after all this time. Maybe that was why it didn’t go away. They were the fantasy each had never indulged.
He shouldn’t be thinking about this while he was about to play pool. Because he was going to beat her. Goddammit.
She wrinkled her nose and stepped away from him, taking hold of her own pool cue and setting the balls on the table with a flourish.
“Ladies first,” he said. He felt magnanimous, actually. And of course he would never get any credit for the gesture, not from her.
Not that he needed it. He would beat her no matter who went first.
She leaned over the table, and he couldn’t help but look at the way her breasts spilled over the top of that tank top, drawing all his attention away from the game and right to her body.
He tried to focus on what she was doing, but it was difficult.
She didn’t even look at the balls but made eye contact with him as the pool cue slid smoothly through her fingers and the white ball cracked against the colored ones with a loud sound that should’ve jarred him out of his haze, but didn’t.
Because he was a disaster.
This girl.
“I’m solids,” she said.
“Stripes it is.” He was in a pretty advantageous position, so when he set up, he easily sent the white ball into a stripe, knocking it into the pocket. The cue ball rolled just to the edge of the velvet, but didn’t tumble in and cause a scratch.
He grinned.
“Impressive,” she said, but in a way that was a little bit too smooth. A way that felt like she was stroking him.
“It’s really too bad you don’t need any instruction,” she said. “I would’ve loved to give you some guidance.” She knew exactly what she was doing to him.
“Well, if you need me to show you how it’s done, I’m happy to.”
She set up next to the shot he had left her, which was difficult no matter how good you were.
“Oh, Flynn, I know my way around balls. I definitely don’t need you to teach me.
” The cue glided through her fingers, striking the white ball, which hopped and hit the top of a solid so that it rolled straight into the opposing pocket.
“Damn,” he said.
And then he ground his teeth together, because she was as hot as she was annoying.
They went back and forth like that, until there were very few balls left on the table. As he set up to take another shot, she stood there, arms crossed under her breasts, looking at him, refusing to move.
So he turned, brushing his hip against hers as he leaned in to prep for his shot. And then she leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. “Don’t mess up.”
He turned his head, and their mouths were only a whisper apart. It would not be out-of-pocket for him to kiss her, actually. Because they were pretending to be a couple. Because this was all part of the ruse. Certainly, the people around them were all entertained.
His pulse began to pound heavily. But he distracted himself by watching as the color mounted in her cheeks. Watching as she began to get short of breath. She was turned on. She had flown too close to the sun. She meant to mess with him, and she had messed with her damn self.
He took a shot and sent his ball in, leaving the white one in a precarious spot. She cleared her throat and rounded the table, but he went right with her.
“What are you doing?” she asked out of the corner of her mouth.
“I’m helping you. Just like you were helping me.”
“You are not helping.”
He leaned against the table just as she bent down, keeping their faces close. “Don’t mess up, Jessie.”
She arched back, scratching, sending the white ball flying off the table.
“You did that on purpose,” she said.
“Not at all. I was just being affectionate.”
“You are the worst,” she hissed.
“Many women would agree with you.”
“You shouldn’t brag about that.”
“Well, I’m the worst, so I’m often unclear on what exactly I should be bragging about.”
She huffed.
And then it was his turn.