Prologue #2
He squints, his gaze zeroing in on my book. “The Year I Lost Love?” He reads the title aloud. “Doesn’t seem like much of a knee-slapper.”
He’d be right. This one is a tear-jerker. Not that I’ll admit it. “You’d have to read it to understand.” I reach for my glass and take a sip of my wine.
“Liar.” He chuckles.
I raise my eyes and act offended. “Excuse me?”
“I saw the way you turned your nose up at Daisy. It’s bad enough you come in here wearing that uptight little outfit, but it wouldn’t hurt to put your book down. Have a little fun.” He nods at my book. “It is Saturday. Some of us actually like to unwind and have a good time on the weekend.”
“I’m having a good time,” I say defensively, straightening my cardigan and checking that the clasp on my string of pearls is in place.
“Reading in a bar?”
“Reading anywhere.”
Now it’s his turn to scoff.
I lift my eyebrows. “Look who’s being judgmental now.”
“I knew it. You were laughing at her.”
“Not her.” I roll my eyes. “You.”
“Me?” He stands, picking up his beer and hat. He moves down to my end of the bar, swallowing up the space with his long legs in several strides. “Tell me, darlin’. What did I do?”
He towers over me, standing at my side, and I swear he sucks up all the oxygen from this corner of the room. It’s the only explanation for why I suddenly feel out of breath.
I shake my head. “I can’t say.”
He grins, and I swear it warms me from the inside out. “Now, why’s that?”
I’m so distracted by his smile, it takes me a second to remember why I’m unimpressed with him.
“Because I was taught if I don’t have something nice to share, I should keep it to myself.”
He laughs, sliding onto the seat next to mine. “Oh, now you have to tell me.”
I consider being polite. But he asked, and after the week I’ve had, I’m tired of holding back my thoughts. I snap my book closed and meet his stare.
“It’s sort of pathetic, using your dad’s condition to find your next hookup.”
His eyes widen and he leans back. “Wow.”
“I warned you it wasn’t nice.”
He nods. “I did ask for it.”
“You did.”
He shrugs. “For the record, I’m not using his illness to score.”
“No?”
“I mean, I can do that just fine on my own.” The wink he flashes me before he takes a long sip of beer is equal parts flirty and annoying.
“I can’t help that everyone in this town knows about Pops, or that women are drawn to me.
Who am I to turn away the attention when all they want is to offer a little comfort? ”
“Comfort?” My eyebrows lift. “Is that what we’re calling it these days?”
“Yeah.” He rests an elbow on the bar top and turns to aim another charming smile my way. Despite my defenses, a little flutter of nerves takes root in my belly. “I know it’s been a while for you, but I’d be happy to reintroduce you to the vernacular.”
He leans back a few inches and sweeps his gaze appreciatively over my modest outfit. I can’t tell whether he’s teasing or actually checking me out. Or if I should be insulted that he assumes it’s been a while since I’ve gotten laid. Even if he’s right.
He meets my stare. “Feel free to employ my services at any time.”
“Thanks, but I’m familiar with how a dictionary works.”
A burst of laughter tips his head back in amusement. “Oh, I bet you are.”
I don’t know why or how, but a suggestive response flies from my lips before I can censor myself. “You know, I could probably teach you a few things.”
“That so?” Jackson’s eyes grow with a hunger that trickles straight to my core.
Shit. Am I flirting with Maeve’s little brother? I hold his gaze for as long as I can, refusing to be the one to back down, but ultimately, I break the tension.
“I should get back to my book.”
“Or . . .” He reaches for my book and closes it on the bar top, flashing me his signature grin. “You could have a drink with me.”
I smile sweetly. “I wouldn’t want to derail your evening plans of hitting on unsuspecting women.” I glance across the bar to the table where Daisy and several women are staring at Jackson. “Maybe not so unsuspecting.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t.” He leans closer, ignoring everyone else in the room.
It’s a lot, having all his attention focused on me, and I enjoy it more than I should. Especially when he’s just playing around.
“I think you have fans waiting.” I glance over his shoulder toward the group.
“Really? ’Cause from where I’m sitting, there’s only one woman in this bar I’d like to take home, and I’m looking right at her.”
Did Jackson Wilder just ask if he could take me home?
This was not on my bingo card.
“That’s a bad idea.”
I feel the need to state the obvious as I stare at his chest. The top button on his shirt is undone and heat rises in my cheeks as I imagine undoing the rest. I am not a prudish person, but I am extremely private with my personal life.
It feels reckless just sitting next to Jackson in this bar, let alone considering sleeping with him.
“Yeah. Probably.” His throaty chuckle scatters goosebumps over my skin as he leans forward. He dips his chin, speaking his next words softly at the shell of my ear. “The thing is, darlin’, I’m a big fan of bad ideas.”
I swallow hard, both hating and loving the feel of his breath against my ear.
The last time I did something so reckless, I ended up pregnant.
I shouldn’t tempt fate. Should I?
He leans back and takes a long pull from his glass, his gaze hot and heavy as it remains locked with mine.
“What?” I ask, feeling slightly self-conscious under his scrutiny. My body is warm and restless, and I reach for my necklace, tracing each pearl bead along the chain so I have something to do with my hands.
“I can’t tell what you’re thinking, Rosalie Masters.”
Get in line, mister.
“What exactly are you proposing, Jackson Wilder?”
“Wanna come back to my place for a drink?”
Do I?
Yes. I really do.
But I don’t get to do what I want. All decisions have consequences. That’s something I know all too well. But the thought of returning home tonight, a little horny and completely alone, throws off my sense of propriety. At least, that’s how I rationalize my next decision.
“A drink? That’s it?” I raise my brows, because yes, I’m going to make him spell it out.
His lips press together, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.
“How about we start with a drink, and if that’s as far as you want to take it, that’s as far as it goes.” He’s giving me control and it releases most of my apprehension. “But if you ask me to fuck you, I promise I won’t disappoint. I can go all night if you want.”
“All night?” My heart races at the idea. “That’s quite the guarantee. Sure you can deliver?”
“Oh, Rosalie. There are many ways I fall short in life, but my stamina is not one of them.”
Fuck me. There’s only one thing standing in the way.
“Maeve can never know.”
His gaze snaps to mine. There’s a wild storm in the depths of his stare. It mirrors my own internal turmoil and makes me wonder if Jackson and I are more alike than one would imagine.
He gives the barest of nods. “No one needs to know, especially my sister.”
He drains his beer, stands, and sets his hat back on his head.
He lifts his hand to catch Desiree’s attention, and pulls out his wallet.
Before she can make her way over to us, he leans forward, elbows resting on the bar top as he stares forward without a hint of emotion.
His voice is low when he speaks, his words only for me.
“I’m going to sit in the parking lot for fifteen minutes before driving home. If you come home with me, I promise we’ll have a good time. If not, no hard feelings. But either way, we’ll pretend this never happened. You have my word on that.”