Jessie
It shouldn’t bother me.
But, really, he must have a serious lack of class to just disappear while I slept.
What kind of son of a bitch is Aidan Burke? He’s sure as hell a disrespectful little shit, his sexual promises be damned. The fact he delivered on them can be damned, too.
He’s real lucky I’m the kind of girl who sticks to her word. When I said no stories, no second times, no whatever it was I said while under the influence of cosmos, I meant it.
As long as we never have to see each other again. That’d be fabulous. So basically, Shelton Bay needs to expand by another few thousand people. Several thousand would be great. Like, twenty thousand.
The chances of this happening are, I know, slim. But a girl can dream. A girl’s gotta dream if she wants to stay sane.
A last-minute tour for Dirty B. would be epic. An impromptu concert on Mars would be even more epic.
Jesus, what the heck was I thinking? Sleeping with Aidan Burke? Did I have a temporary lapse in sanity last night?
Sweet shit, it was a long-ass lapse. Enough for him to convince me, me to fight my way out of my Spanx—with a little help from my friends—in a toilet cubicle in a club restroom, a car ride, an elevator ride, and foreplay.
Yep. That’s an hour at least. And that’s just for the Spanx.
I pay the cab driver and, with my heels hooked over my finger, creep my way up the path to the front door. I dig in my clutch for my key, but the door opens right in front of me and the smirking face of my little sister stares back at me.
She opens her mouth.
“Sas,” I whisper hurriedly. “Shhh. You can have bathroom time for the next month. I won’t complain.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“And I’ll even buy all your makeup for the next month. And that Alex and Ani bracelet you wanted.”
She raises her other eyebrow.
“The snakeskin Tieks Dad said no to?” Fuck, this is expensive now.
Slowly, she purses her lips, her teenage attitude contorting her features until she grins widely. “Daaaaaaaad!” she sings snidely.
“What?” Dad calls down the stairs sleepily.
“Jessie just got home!”
“Aw, Jesus, Sas!” I snap, shoving past her and throwing my shoes into a closet.
“She what?” The floorboards creak above me as I storm into the kitchen. The creaks are followed seconds later by footsteps on the stairs, a “Saskia, shut the door,” and his emergence into the kitchen. “Jessie?”
“Good morning, Dad,” I say cheerily, avoiding his gaze.
“Did you just get in?”
I suck my bottom lip into my mouth as my little sister takes a seat at the table and pulls out her phone with a self-satisfied smile. “Yes. But I—”
“Don’t have a curfew, I know. I still worry about your safety. Where were you?”
“I was out,” I reply vaguely.
“Jessie.”
“Dad, come on. I’m twenty-four. I can remember my whole night, my friends knew where I went. You don’t really want the details, do you?” Now I meet his eyes with an eyebrow quirked. “I mean, if I have to, I’ll tell you, but you might be creeped out for life.”
Silence lingers between us while he obviously weighs the decision between making sure I was safe last night and being scarred for life.
“Daddy,” I say sweetly. “Have I ever lied to you? And that time I climbed out of my bedroom window for that keg party when I was seventeen so does not count!”
“And the time you borrowed my truck to drive to Raleigh to get your hair done for prom, or the time you told me you’d cleared out the basement to get the expensive prom dress but hadn’t, or the time you told me you’d be back straight after prom and snuck in at two a.m.”
“Okay, but that was all senior prom! That gets exceptions.”
“Under what ruling?”
“The senior prom ruling.” I smile sweetly.
He stares at me, stone-faced, for a long moment. Then his salt-and-pepper-stubbled jaw twitches and his lips curve up.
“Oh. My. God!” Saskia shrieks, clapping her hand over her mouth.
“What?” I meet her eyes. “What?”
“You!” She chokes out. “You!”
“What?”
“You were with Aidan Burke! Last night!”
I open my mouth to argue but nothing comes out.
“Oh my God! You were with him! This is you, isn’t it?” She shoves her phone screen in my face then removes it so quickly that all I see is a blur. “Jessie! You slept with him, didn’t you? And you always refused to introduce me because he was, and I quote, ‘a giant butthead’! I can’t believe you!”
Again, my mouth opens, but I can’t speak.
“Jessie?” Dad asks, more amused than anything.
“You know, damn, is that the time?” I ask, looking at the clock pointedly. “Dang, I’ve gotta get to work. I’m opening the café this morning. I’d love to stay and address Sas’s crazy-ass friends and their early-morning screenshots or whatever, but I need to move. Sorry!”
“You’re such a bitch!” Saskia fumes after me. Dad immediately shoots her down, and I run up the stairs to the tune of him giving her the “You Don’t Call Your Sister a Bitch” lecture. Yeah, I named it. I might have heard it on more than one occasion.
Might have.
Unfortunately, I don’t have time to shower, so I yank a brush through my hair and douse it with dry shampoo before I slip out of my dress. A washcloth, some warm water, and soap washes as much Aidan Burke off me as I can, and blocking him out of my mind, I run back into my room, shut my door, and get dressed.
If only me needing to get to work really was a lie. I could do with an extra hour in bed.
Or, you know, another two or three.
I brush my hair once more to get rid of the dry shampoo. Some white dust from it falls onto my black work shirt, so I swipe at my boobs to get rid of it, then grab a hairband.
I run downstairs as I tie my hair into a ponytail and grab my purse from the kitchen table, ignoring my sister’s angry stare. I smile at her sweetly before slipping my sunglasses on top of my head and running out the door before Mom wakes up—no way will she be as accepting of my all-nighter as Dad was.
Probably because he’s the one with the gun license.
I close the gate to the front yard behind me and slide my sunglasses down as I turn into the bright early-morning sun. Within thirty seconds of walking down the street, I’m wishing I could be anywhere but the café today. Mind you, I think that every day. I’d always rather be in the tattoo studio with Jay while I save up enough money to take the tattoo course I’ve been dying to do since I left college two years ago.
As it stands, my art degree is in a very pretty frame above the mantel, but it’s not doing much else.
Damn expensive picture, if you ask me. Shame no one did.
I hum as I turn onto Main Street and push open the door to Penelope’s Café. The little bell over the door rings, and I wince as it echoes around the empty building.
“Jessie!” Ashley, Penelope’s daughter, sticks her head out of the kitchen door, her white-blond hair tied into a neat bun on top of her head. “Hi!”
“Hi!” I try to match her chirpy greeting, but by the way her eyebrows pull together, it obviously sounds like I’m just being a bitch. “Sorry. I’m a little hungover. I’ll try to be happy after coffee.”
Ashley grins. “I bet you’re hungover.”
Slowly, I load the grounds, press the On button on the coffee machine, and drag my eyes to her. “Um, what does that mean?”
“Aidan Burke.”
I cough into my hand and turn away. “You know, I might be sick. Fall cold and all that. I should probably head home.”
“Oh no, Miss Law!” She holds her hands out, blocking my only exit from behind the counter. “I want to know everything.”
My cheeks get hot as I remember everything. “No. No, you don’t. No one needs to know.”
“Rumor has it he’s good.”
“Rumors are rumors.”
“Rumor has it he’s dirty. Real dirty. As in, he puts the dirty in—”
“Did you forget I live in this town, too? I know all the rumors, Ash.” I pull my steaming mug from the machine and pour cold milk into it, stirring it in. “And I am seriously too hungover to have this discussion. Besides, I don’t kiss and tell.”
“I’m not asking about the kissing. . . .”
“I know.” I meet her eyes. “And I am still not telling you anything.” I sip the boiling drink. “Not a dang thing!”
No kiss and tell. No foreplay and tell. No delicious, glorious hate-fuck and tell.
We made a deal, and I’m sticking to it.
Besides, I’m not an asshole.
At least not all the time.
“Uh-oh,” Ash mutters. “Isn’t that your ex?”
“Does it look like a mole with chicken pox?” I mutter back, taking a deep breath and turning around. I look through the glass front door at the guy standing a few feet away from it, his hooded sweatshirt unzipped, his hands shoved into his pockets. If his stance wasn’t enough to tell me it’s Dax, I’d know by the scruffy, dirty-blond hair curling at the base of his neck. “Oh, look. It is.”
Ash laughs, throwing an apron at me. “I’m opening up. Want me to serve him?”
“A frying pan to the face? Sure. Be my guest.”
“Coffee, Jessie. I’d like to keep my job.”
“Nah, it’s okay. I’ve gotta face him sometime.”
“Kent!” She yells into the kitchen at the chef. “Keep the fryin’ pans away from Jessie here!”
“Yes, ma’am,” he calls back, laughing.
I might have a temper.
“Y’all are like pins and needles in my ass,” I mumble, finishing my coffee and putting the mug into the empty dishwasher. Ash’s laugh rings through the café as she dances her way to the front door with the key dangling from her pointer finger.
Chelsey is the first person through the door, and I blink harshly. “Don’t look at me like that,” she hisses, stalking toward me. “You didn’t come home last night, did you?”
“Say it a bit louder, Chels. I’m not sure my mom heard you.”
She rolls her eyes and, glancing at the people behind her, orders. “Latte, please, to go.” One more glance as I grab the takeout cup and she continues, “Why didn’t you text me? You should have texted me!”
“Dude, seriously. I fell asleep, okay? I didn’t know I’d be out so long.”
“Wow. Was it that bad?”
Ashley giggles. “Not from the way she blushed earlier. . . .”
“You blushed?”
“It’s been known to happen!” I blush again, putting the top on her coffee and pushing it across the counter toward her. She hands me a five and raises her eyebrows as I ring her up on the register and count out her change. “Stop looking at me like that,” I demand, shoving two dollars back into her hand.
“You better call me later.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She turns away and I smile, turning to my next customer. I run through the next two, the whole time becoming increasingly aware of a set of eyes on me. I wish I didn’t know them, because then maybe I wouldn’t feel like my skin is being sliced open and turned inside out with every second that passes and he doesn’t break his gaze.
My hand shakes as I ring up the order for the last customer before him. I take a deep breath so I don’t stutter as I give the total, because I’ll be damned if I’ll let Dax know I’m bothered by him turning up randomly at my workplace like it’s the only coffee shop in town.
I haven’t seen him since I slapped him across the back of the head and Chelsey dragged me out of the club.
“What can I get you?” I ask, looking up into his baby-blue eyes.
“A conversation,” he replies, leaning forward.
“You’re about three weeks too late for that.” My lips curve into a tight smile. “Can I get you a coffee? Eggs? Croissant?”
“Just a normal coffee, I guess.”
“Is that with cream and sugar?”
“You know how I have my coffee.”
“I thought I knew a lot of things about you, but I was wrong on most of them, so I’m not risking it on the coffee. Cream and sugar?”
His jaw tics as he clenches it. “Cream, two sugars.”
“To go?”
“Please.”
“Perfect. Coming right up.” I force my tight smile into a sweet, polite one and turn away. I flex my fingers before I grab a cup off the stack, hoping the tremble stays away. I know exactly why he’s brought his sorry ass down here this morning after three weeks of hiding, and I’m not entertaining his bullshit for longer than it takes to pour the coffee.
“How’ve you been?” Dax asks.
“Just fine. You?”
“Missed you.”
“I probably would, too, if I didn’t have to spend every second with myself,” I retort, hitting On on the machine. I suck my lower lip into my mouth and nibble at a bit of loose skin on the surface. Keep your cool, Jessie. Don’t blow up. “Here.” I put the top on the cup and put it on the counter. “That’s two dollars and fifty cents, please.”
“Jessie,” he implores, saying my name in such a way that the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Dax,” I reply through clenched teeth, ignoring the tension spreading down from my forehead.
“Please, can we talk?”
“I told you. You’re three weeks too late.” I drop his change on the counter and meet his eyes. “I know exactly why you’re here. Save your breath. I’m not interested.”
“Jessie . . .”
“She said she isn’t interested.”
There’s no ignoring the shiver that snakes down my spine from the second male voice. “Aidan,” I acknowledge.
“Jessie.” His lips pull into a smirk and he winks at me. “Can I get two cappuccinos to go?”
“Sure.” I swallow, turning away as a red-hot flush runs through my body. Good grief, I’m pretty sure I’m on fire right down to the tips of my toes.
Where are those extra twenty thousand people I was asking for this morning? I know it’s Sunday and not tourist season, but come on, Karma. Help me out here.
What are the chances I’d have my ex-boyfriend and last night’s one-night stand in front of me at the same time? While hungover, with my dirty hair in a ponytail and an apron on?
Evidently, not nearly slim enough.
“We were talking,” Dax says tightly.
“What’s your point?” Aidan replies. “You’ve got your coffee and your change. That means I can order. And from what I can see, Jessie wants the conversation over.”
I like my chances.
I clear my throat and froth the milk, the noise drowning out their conversation. None of that crap, thank you very much. I count in my head until the milk is frothed enough, then pour it into each cup equally. “Sofie and Ella?” I ask, ignoring the tension between the two guys at the counter as I pass Aidan the cups.
“How’d you guess?”
“Because you look like you’re ready to kill your brothers.” I raise an eyebrow. “Seven dollars, please.”
He sets one of the cups down on the counter and fishes in his pocket. Instead of ten dollars, he comes up with a card. “This should go through.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes and turn the card machine toward him so he can swipe. He does, and I clear my throat when Dax looks at me funny. “What?” I ask him, taking back the card machine and tearing off Aidan’s receipt.
“You always were real good at ignoring the obvious,” he snaps.
“Clearly that’s how our relationship lasted as long as it did,” I reply just as sharply.
“When do you get off today?” Aidan breaks through, his bright eyes focused on me.
I ignore the innuendo. My lips part, and I close them to swallow. “Two.”
“I’ll pick you up. ’Kay?”
Um, no. That is not okay. But somehow my mouth says, “Okay.”
“Great.” He leans forward, cups my jaw, and presses his lips to mine. My eyes flutter shut when he holds the kiss for longer than a few seconds, and I lean into him the tiniest amount.
The café door slams, and I jolt back, seeing Dax’s back disappear down Main. “Nice diversion,” I mutter, grabbing a cloth and wiping at the clean counter.
“It was a diversion until I remembered there’re several other people in here who just saw that,” he replies in a hushed tone, his lips twitching in the most assholish way I’ve ever seen. “So looks like I’m pickin’ you up at two.”
I open my mouth to argue, but before any words come out, he’s gone.
Okay.
I’m pissed.
I am really, really pissed.
Who the freaking hell does Aidan Burke think he is, strolling into my workplace and kissing me in front of my ex? So he might be a tiny bit my hero for getting Dax Michaels the heck away from me, but still. The audacity! Especially since he was the one who ran out of the hotel while I slept, leaving me to walk out this morning feeling like a total hooker.
Now he thinks he can pick me up after work like a knight in shining freaking armor and I’ll be okay with that. Well, I’m not. In fact, I’m unokay with it. I’m as unokay with it as anyone could ever be about something.
It’s like when you run out of your favorite mascara, or when you eat the last Oreo in the package, or when your spoon scrapes the bottom of the empty ice-cream carton and all you get out of it is that god-awful warm ice-cream juice.
Totally. Not. Okay.
In fact, it’s so not okay that I’m creeping out the back door and taking the back route home. I don’t care that it’s a little longer or that I have to walk through the alley behind Main Street. Nope. I just care that I won’t have to come face-to-face with that smug son of a bitch Aidan Burke.
God. He might know his way around a bed, but I still really hate his fine ass.
I’m sure there’s something wrong with that thought, mostly the “fine ass” part, but it’s been a long day. Never mind that it’s only two in the afternoon.
Hell. I’m babbling to myself now. In my head. In my thoughts. Jesus—Jessie, you need help.
“And now I’m talking to myself,” I sigh.
“First sign of madness.”
I whip around and look up and into Aidan Burke’s bright blue eyes, rage flowing through me. “Funny. I’m pretty sure the first sign of madness is sleeping with you.”
His lips curve in a slow, tantalizing smirk. “Then, baby, you’re crazy.”
“Sherlock on his day off, is he? Watson on vacation or something?” I storm past him, pushing my bangs out of my eyes. He reaches for me, grasping my hand before I can snatch it back, and I glare at him. “What?”
“I always wondered what it’d be like to fuck you. Now I know.”
“Isn’t this a conversation for your right hand?”
“No, but it could be for yours.”
“Only if that hand is around your neck.” I snatch said hand out of his and put it on my hip. “What do you want? Why are you here?”
“Come with me,” he says, his shoulders rising and falling. “Please?”
“A Burke boy saying please? Did I die and go to hell? ’Cause y’all sure ain’t goin’ to heaven.”
His lips twitch. “Jessica.”
I take two steps away from him.
“Jessie,” he corrects himself. “Come on. Just for ten minutes.”
“Take me home,” I demand, turning back to him. “Let me get changed, and then I’ll consider it.”
He takes a deep breath, his eyes intent on me as he obviously considers it. “Fine.” He grabs my hand once more and tugs me between two buildings and onto Main Street.
I shield my eyes from the sunlight before sliding my sunglasses down as we step from the shadows created by the alleyway, almost falling after him. He leads me to a motorcycle and releases my hand only to kick the stand up and haul his leg over the top. I swallow hard, staring at the sleek black bike, ignoring the way his arms flex, the muscles tensing as he grasps the handlebars.
“Jessie?” Aidan asks, meeting my eyes and holding out a helmet.
“I’m not getting on that . . . thing.”
“This thing happens to be my baby. You wanted a ride, you’re gonna get one.”
I already did—I just don’t want another. “You know, I think I’ll walk. On second thought. Call me instead, okay?”
“I don’t have your number.”
“Email.”
“If I ain’t got your number, I sure as shit don’t have your email.”
“Then message me on Facebook. Or, you know, ask your probable future sister-in-laws for my number. In fact, you should do that anyway. I’m not giving you my number even if you paid me a thousand dollars. Which, by the way, I wouldn’t take.”
“Fuck me, you ramble when you’re angry.” Aidan kicks the stand back down and walks to me. I back up until my butt hits the plate-glass window of the florist behind me and take a deep breath when he comes within a footstep of me and wraps his hand around the back of my neck. He eases my head far enough forward so that he can put the helmet on me and buckle it beneath my chin.
I purse my lips. “How do you know I’m angry?”
“Because you look like you want to bite my balls off,” he whispers, grinning, taking my hand for the third time and yanking me to the bike. He puts his own helmet on and secures it, sitting on the black leather seat before tapping it behind him. “Sit, sunshine. I’ll take you home, then we’ll go for a ride.”
Fine.
I climb on and rest my hands on his waist awkwardly. Jesus, I don’t want to touch this man. I don’t want my hands anywhere near his godly body. I want them tied behind my back and preferably a few hundred miles between us.
Hello? Few thousand new Shelton Bay residents? Can y’all erect your tents now?
“You might wanna hold on to me a little tighter there, sunshine.”
“You might wanna quit it with the happy-go-lucky pet name, sweet cheeks. I’m fine with how I’m holding you, thanks.” I sniff.
His body trembles as he laughs quietly. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
He kicks once and the bike roars to life. I clench my fingers into his shirt as the bike vibrates beneath us. He hesitates for all of half a second after I grip him before he revs the ever-loving shit out of the beast between our legs and pulls away from the curb.
“Shit!” I scream, flying backward with the speed of the bike. I grab blindly at Aidan, my heart thumping wildly as I wrap my arms around his waist and press my face into his back as much as my helmet will allow.
Shit, shit, shit!
He could have warned me about this!
Shit, shit, shit!
Some crazy, high-pitched noise makes my throat buzz, but I don’t know if it’s in protest of my body being pressed so firmly against his or if it’s about the ridiculous speed he’s driving this thing at. Oh my god, is this even legal?
The bike. The speed. Being pressed so hard against Aidan Burke. Although that could probably use a law or two. Like, a don’t-fucking-do-it law.
Dear Mr. Senator, can you have this bill passed? Maybe, like, now?
I tense up as he takes a left. Oh my god, I’m gonna fall off this. Oh my god. Oh my god. I knew he couldn’t be trusted. Why did I do this? Holy crap. I should have walked. Oh no, why is he going right? What kind of crazy bastard is he? Can’t he go straight? Can’t this thing be driven on sidewalks? Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
The bike comes to a stop, and I do my best to ignore the shaking of his body and his obvious amusement when he kills the engine and says, “We’re here.”
“Thank fuck,” I breathe, exhaling on a whoosh. I yank the helmet from my head and swing my leg over the back of the bike, slamming the helmet down on the seat so harshly that he has to reach back to catch it before it falls to the ground.
“I’ll wait,” he calls.
“Get comfy,” I yell back, slamming the gate after me. I have zero desire to get on that freaking machine ever again. Either he drives back and gets a car or a truck or something or I’m not going anywhere with him.
“Is that—” Sas starts.
“Yes, and Dad, sit on her!” I stomp up the stairs, ripping my shirt off when I reach the hallway. I throw it into my laundry basket, ignoring it when it falls out, and pull a clean tank top from my drawer. I change out my black pants for ripped denim shorts and my black ballerina flats for white ones to match my shirt. After dousing myself with deodorant and a little perfume and letting my hair down, I go back downstairs and groan.
My sister is pinned against the window, face squished against the cold glass and her hands flattened against it. I bet she looks like Chewbacca or something from the outside.
“Uh, what the hell are you doing?”
“Trying to see him.”
“You’re so freakin’ weird.” I roll my eyes and scoot out the door before she can escape. Dad locks the door behind me, and I pause on the top step.
Didn’t I just say I wasn’t going to get back on the bike?
Aidan and his bike or my sister and her Dirty B. obsession.
Oh, Karma . . . Why must you screw with me this way?
I take a deep breath and, closing my eyes briefly, take a moment to think. To just consider what the freaking hell I’m doing standing on my doorstep when Aidan freaking Burke is outside my house waiting for me. To consider what the hell I’m doing considering getting on that asshat’s bike again.
Jesus—I need therapy to deal with him.
The sound of an engine rumbling is followed by a high-pitched shriek from inside my house. I glance at the front-room window and my eyes widen when I see my sister. Holy shit.
She’s no Chewbacca. But she’s the ugliest damn pug I’ve ever seen.
“Dad! Get her away from the window!” I shout, storming down the path to the gate. I can see Aidan’s bike over my mom’s bushes, and damn it all to hell. My sister and her over-the-top obsession have me slamming the gate open and climbing on the back of his bike.
“Think you can make this one without screaming?”
I snatch the helmet and shove it on my head. “Sure. Can’t promise I won’t bite though.”
“Go ahead,” he says quietly, his rich laughter rumbling. “I might like it.”
“Ugh.” I wrap my arms around his waist and snuggle in close before he starts the engine.