Pure Wicked Page 3

  chair and watched his supposed new squeeze. She was built on the petite side, but he’d already noticed when she rose from her barstool that her jeans hugged the curves of her really pert ass. The pretty little thing also had a noteworthy rack.

  She glanced his way, then leaned in to Jayla, speaking softly. “Did you set this up? Hire him or something?”

  The other woman shook her head. “No. He just appeared. Like a fairy godfather.”

  “Without the glitter and wings,” Jesse quipped in low tones.

  “Seriously?” She swiveled her gaze in his direction. “Why would you help me?”

  “Because you needed it, and I can’t resist a damsel in distress.” He flashed her a smile filled with the dimples that had been getting him laid since he turned fifteen. He probably shouldn’t but he hoped they were working now.

  Bristol frowned, looking uncertain. Did she wish he hadn’t butted in?

  He leaned back to give her space. “Do you want me to go?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip and stared as if trying to figure him out. “Who are you?”

  A splash of adrenaline spiked his bloodstream. Had she recognized him after all?

  “I’m Jamie.” Well, that was his cousin’s name, but he’d at least turn around if someone shouted it. Hopefully. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “I’m not a crazed rapist or ax murderer, if that’s what you’re worried about. I overheard your dilemma and decided to help. I just want to see you smile, okay?”

  “Everything all right?” a male voice called from the next table.

  The groom-to-be tried to stare him down, narrowing his eyes to something he probably thought resembled a Hollywood action hero’s most intimidating glare. Jesse tried not to laugh.

  “Great,” he assured the dickwad.

  Bristol’s sister latched onto her fiancé’s arm and looked up at him as if she sought all the answers of the universe in his eyes. Jesse didn’t have anything against love or adoration. He didn’t know much about them, but he didn’t think her insipid expression was a good representation of either.

  “Is that guy bothering you?” Bristol’s ex asked her, nodding his way.

  Jesse tensed, waiting to see what she’d say. She glanced away from the fidiot and over to him again. She tucked her hand in his and squeezed. “Why would you think that? I’m great, Hayden.”

  “She’s just put out that I’m late,” Jesse lied smoothly. “Carry on.”

  Hayden did so reluctantly, telling everyone at the gathering about the moment he’d realized he was in love with her sister over punch and cake, right after Presleigh risked herself to rescue the neighbor’s kid from an angry hive of bees.

  “Is he talking about Ben Bob?” When Bristol nodded, Jayla rolled her eyes. “C’mon now. That kid threw rocks at the hive because he wanted to see what the bees would do.”

  “Yep. He even admitted that.”

  Jayla frowned, as if remembering an annoying but key fact. “Didn’t that happen at your birthday party?”

  “It did.” Bristol nodded with an acid smile.

  So Hayden had thrown her over for her vapid sister when he’d come to celebrate her big day? “What a raving douche.”

  “You got that right,” Jayla put in.

  While Jesse couldn’t deny that he’d pulled some dick moves when he had been briefly engaged to Kimber, that had been years ago, when he had been young, intoxicated, and stupid. Back then, he’d believed the world owed him a good time.

  How had anybody tolerated him?

  “Thanks for that assessment, babe,” Bristol tossed back at him, wearing an intriguing hint of a grin.

  “If hearing me diss your ex makes you happy, I’ll be glad to do it more.”

  Her grin widened, almost becoming a full-blown smile.

  Before Jesse could coax one out of her, the waitstaff began bringing everyone glasses of sweet tea and trays full of beef brisket sandwiches, coleslaw, baked beans, and bread. Bottles of wine followed. Hayden called for a bucket of beer. People dug in, conversation ensued, and the bride and groom looked at each other as if they couldn’t wait to be alone. Jesse wondered if they realized how incredibly insensitive they were being. Probably not. Even if they did, Jesse suspected they wouldn’t care if they hurt Bristol. Obviously, they’d disregarded her feelings some time ago.

  Thankfully, the restaurant began piping in music, a kind of modern country tune that Jesse didn’t hear often but liked. He eyed Bristol as she bounced in her chair to the beat. Her gesture looked completely unconscious, as if she didn’t expect anyone would be watching her. He kind of found it adorable.

  When the waiter began taking the food away, she’d barely touched hers. Instead, she peered at him as if he was a riddle she needed to solve. The intelligence on her face, coupled with an unconsciously sultry thing she had going on, piqued his interest. Blood rushed south. Against his better judgment, his cock stood up and saluted her.

  Shit, he’d jumped into this situation to help—nothing more. He’d just rolled into town and wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He hadn’t cast himself in the role of her boyfriend in the hopes that she’d let him fuck her.

  Everyone around them was laughing and imbibing. The engaged couple kissed again. Bristol tried not to look at them. Jesse wanted to wring their necks.

  “Walk with me?” he leaned closer and asked in her ear.

  She turned his way, her big green eyes snaring his gaze. “Where?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never been to this place. Where can we talk without technically leaving the party?”

  She paused, then turned to Jayla. “Will you distract my mother for a few minutes, pretty please?”

  “You did not just ask me to do that.” Her bestie crossed her arms over her chest and gave her a glare full of attitude.

  “I’ll make you a whole batch of peanut butter blossom cookies,” she wheedled.

  Suddenly, Jayla gave her a dazzling smile. “Deal.”

  “I think I got played,” Bristol told him with a fond shake of her head.

  “I’d say so.” He held out his hand.

  She tucked her cell phone in her pocket, leaving her purse with her friend, then she placed her hand in his outstretched palm as they strolled the perimeter of the restaurant/bar. “So…what made you jump in? Did I look like a sad spinster, so you decided to end my singledom for a night?”

  “No. I’m a sucker for engagement parties. Can’t you tell? I saw all the white balloons with the cute pictures of the bride and groom attached and I couldn’t resist. If I’m lucky, maybe we can catch another sappy speech and drink some terrible champagne.”

  She sent him a skeptical glare. “Have you ever been to an engagement party?”

  “Not since my neighbor’s daughter married an alpaca farmer. I was twelve,” he admitted.

  Bristol laughed, and Jesse loved hearing the light, lyrical sound. That giggle was a music all its own. “Made a big impact on you, huh?”

  “The cake did. But the marriage lasted about as long as I think your sister’s will.”

  “It took me longer to decorate the ‘save the date’ cookies she asked me for tonight than the whole marriage will, I suspect. The wedding is next month. Mama wanted her to be a June bride. Presleigh isn’t ready to be anyone’s wife.”

  “And he’s no Prince Charming.”

  She nodded. “There is that.”

  “Why did you date him?”

  “That’s a good question.” Bristol hesitated. “He found me after I broke my ankle and took me to the doctor.”

  “You felt as if you owed him?” Jesse asked.

  “No. I liked him—or I thought I did. But that was before I actually knew him.”

  “How did you get hurt?” Even in the dimming light, he saw the flush in her cheeks, and Jesse sensed a story. “Okay, ‘fess up.”

  “Well, I bought this aerobics video and I was trying it out but…”

  “Your ankle snapped, did it? Were you
doing some crazy Insanity shit?”

  She twirled a section of her hair around one finger and looked anywhere but at him. “Um, no.”

  “So…what were you up to?”

  Biting back a smile, she sent him a coy glance. “It was supposed to be pole dancing but I didn’t have a pole, so I used a column in my apartment. I didn’t know it was hollow and wouldn’t hold me. I landed wrong and…it was embarrassing.”

  He gave a hearty laugh. “I don’t mean to make light of your pain, but you have to admit that—”

  “No, it totally sounds funny. And if anyone could have seen it, I’ll bet it would have been hysterical.”

  Maybe, but he’d bet that before her fall, he’d have found her sexy as hell. “So he took you to the hospital?”

  She nodded. “Yep. He also brought me roses while they set the cast. Then he filled my prescriptions and took me home. He even tried to pet my cat, Shakespurr.”

  “That’s what you named your cat?”

  “Yeah, he’s a feline so he’s clever and creative. And just like the Bard himself, before I had Shakespurr fixed he liked older women.”

  “Right.” Jesse enjoyed her sense of humor and quick wit. He wondered how many of the women he’d taken to bed over the years he might have liked if he’d bothered to get to know them. Probably none. This one seemed really different. “So you decided you liked him because he tried to pet your pussy?”

  She tsked at him and sent him an annoyed glare, hands on her hips. But the fact that she was about a foot shorter, coupled with the smile she couldn’t repress, took all the starch out of her censure.

  “That’s not all. Hayden also told me that he had a crush on me in high school.”

  “And you fell for him?”

  Bristol heaved a long sigh. “Totally. I sound like an idiot.”

  Jesse didn’t like hearing her put herself down when she’d done nothing wrong. “No. You sound like a woman who trusted the wrong guy because you wanted to believe the best about him.”

  “I really did.”

  Now she sounded sad, and he wanted to turn her frown into another smile. “Since you’ve been so honest, I guess I’ll tell you something true.” He squeezed her hand. “I saw you sitting on the barstool talking to Jayla and thought you were beautiful. If you’ve once thought you’re not simply because the ex-jackass tossed you over for your younger sister, trust me. It’s not you; it’s him. I can already tell you’re way smarter. I also suspect you’re a better human being. So if he made you feel lousy, forget it. I’ve traveled all over the world and met a lot of women. You seem pretty awesome to me.”

  She blushed again. “Thanks.”

  “Like I said, just being honest.”

  A comfortable lull fell between them, and Jesse finally scanned his surroundings. He’d played a number of places with this vibe when he’d first started singing. It hadn’t taken long before a random YouTube video had brought him to the attention of record producers. He’d been too nervous to appreciate the valuable learning experience and too young to join the revelry that would inevitably happen here later. Right now, a band dragged in their instruments and readied themselves for their Saturday night set.

  Besides maturity and experience, the other thing that made his trip to this joint different was the fact that he held Bristol’s hand in his. He liked the simple touch, liked knowing she was there with him step by step. She didn’t have any expectations that he’d find the nearest room away from his screaming public to get in her panties. Bristol seemed perfectly content to simply be with him.

  Conversely, the fact that she wasn’t squealing to sleep with the Jesse McCall really made him want her. Or was there just something about her that did it for him?

  “So…since you saved me from social hell tonight, are you expecting money?”

  If she only knew how much he didn’t need it. “Nope.”

  “Sex?” She quirked a brow at him.

  Jesse couldn’t help but smile. “I wouldn’t turn it down…”

  “Oh, yeah?” Her smile dipped. “And you’re not interested in Presleigh?”

  “God, no. She’s pretty in that plastic way, like a Barbie doll. Sure, she’s cute and has a nice bod. But I’ve met a million girls like her. She’s not interesting.”

  “And I am?” Bristol quizzed, looking a bit skeptical.

  “So far, yeah.”

  “You don’t really know me,” she pointed out.

  “Fair enough. But you seem real. Unlike your sister, it’s pretty clear you didn’t spend all afternoon preening in front of the mirror and dressing for attention.”

  “What does that mean? Maybe I did.”

  “I guess that messy ponytail with the chunk that didn’t make it up—nice scrunchie, by the way—was on purpose. And who wants to wear a skirt so short that a stiff breeze could reveal your underwear when you could go the rumpled jeans route? Much sexier. And that patch of flour on your neck here.” He swept his fingers over the spot and felt her pulse jump. “Hmm, honey. It’s a turn-on.”

  She gave a tsk of self-disgust and swiped at the flour, then dragged the elastic band covered in pink polka-dotted fabric from her hair. The multi-hued brown strands bounced past her shoulders and brushed her arms, the ends a shade much closer to blond. It wasn’t any sort of ombre dye job, simply a natural byproduct of the sun. Her tresses framed her delicate face.

  “Okay, so I’m not Vogue ready.”

  “But like I said, you are pretty, no matter what you’re wearing,” he told her. “You know, since I’m your boyfriend for the evening, I should know more about you. I mean, in case people ask? At least the vitals.”

  “That’s a point. My mother may have paused her interrogation, but she’ll be back.” She seemed to gather her thoughts. “I’m twenty-four, my middle name is Alexa. My dad died when I was ten. We used to bake together when I was a kid. I dropped out of college in my sophomore year to start a little coffeehouse in my hometown called Sweet Cinns. Making ends meet each month is touch and go, but I love what I do and wouldn’t change a thing. What about you?”

  “I’m still trying to find myself. I got a GED at sixteen. I had this crazy idea, but it didn’t work out the way I thought. So…right now, I’m seeing the country and trying to figure out where to go next. Where’s your hometown?” He changed the subject before she could ask him for details.

  “Lewisville. That’s in Arkansas, about thirty miles east. You’ve never heard of it.”

  “I haven’t,” he admitted.

  “It’s a tiny town, so small that we had to come here to find a restaurant big enough for the party.”

  “Do you have a lot of competition in the restaurant biz there?”

  “Well, it’s not like Starbucks has come to town, so that helps. But we also don’t have a morning rush hour. I’d love to have cars wrapped around the building, but it isn’t equipped with a drive-thru. No other place in town is open for breakfast or makes everything from scratch. I don’t stay open for dinner because I can’t compete with Burge’s Pit Bar-B-Q or Scooter’s Pizza Shack.”

  He nodded as they meandered closer to the band. “Wise business decision. I’ll bet your goodies are delicious. I’d love a taste.”

  His voice had gone low and husky, and Jesse wondered if she’d heard it.

  She raised her gaze to him, lashes fluttering flirtatiously. “Is that right? Well, my hot buns are fabulous.”

  “I have no doubt they are.” He winked. When she giggled, he wished he could stay around long enough to take a bite of whatever she offered.

  A few moments later, the collection of musicians grabbed their instruments and started playing a lively contemporary country love song with a three-four meter. It wasn’t like anything he played in his vault of songs.

  “Dance with me?” he asked, stopping at the edge of the floor