1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Seven Page 8

  “Thanks. I want to use this time to be with you because I…like you. A lot. That probably sounds corny. It’s been rough lately but being with you is peaceful. Nice.” He shook his head. “I’m saying it wrong. I feel good when I’m with you.”

  That insidious butterfly took up residence in her tummy again, but Bristol couldn’t seem to squash him. She felt a bit like the cute guy in school had told her that he wanted to “go” with her.

  Wiping the smile off her face proved impossible. “You made me feel pretty good last night, too.”

  He grinned. “We were damn hot together. But even hanging with you is great. We…click.”

  “I should disagree. After all, we’re just hooking up.” But she felt a school-girly grin cross her face again. “But we do click. So if you’re going to stay, would you come with me to my mom’s house for dinner on Tuesday night?” She winced. “She told everyone you would be there.”

  “And you don’t want to brave it alone?”

  “Not really. Please…” She sounded as if she was wheedling because she was.

  “Well, I don’t want to leave you alone with the wolves. Will Presleigh and Hayden be there?”

  “Yep, along with half the town. I’d really appreciate it. As Jayla put it, if I come alone I’ll look like a ho-bag who’s not interested in keeping a man.” Bristol realized that made her sound as if she might be looking for some commitment. “And I’m not interested in hanging onto anyone after my shit with Hayden, but I’m really not eager to be the center of town gossip, either.”

  A frown wrinkled Jamie’s brow before he bent and pressed a lingering kiss on her lips. Affection with a teasing hint of passion. One touch, and Jamie made her ache for more.

  He eased back, staring down into her face. “I’ll go with you. Now eat. I’m going to grab a shower, if that’s cool.”

  Bristol let out a sigh of relief. “Yeah, help yourself. And if you want to wash some clothes, I’ve got stackable units in the closet in the hallway.”

  “I appreciate it.” Jamie nodded, heading for the bathroom.

  She grabbed a coffee, devoured her meal, then found her shoes shoved half under the bed. Downstairs, she began flipping on lights, grabbing ingredients as she made her way from the stockroom toward the kitchen, not looking forward to the cleanup she’d neglected yesterday. It would tack on an extra hour to her day, but she’d obviously needed the sleep last night. Now it was time to pay for the indulgence.

  But when she entered the kitchen, nothing but clean dishes and sparkling surfaces awaited her. Her jaw dropped. Someone had cleaned everything, set up her mixer again, put away her utensils, even mopped the usually sticky floor.

  Someone? The only person who could have done that was Jamie.

  Her heart stuttered then skipped. Bristol might wish she could find a way to not care about Jamie…but that wasn’t happening now. Why fight what was so damn obvious? She was falling for him.

  Jamie looked after her and helped her out. She enjoyed his banter. The sex was so far beyond mere pleasure that she didn’t have the words to describe it. Their “click” was undeniable. She’d shared much less with Hayden and considered the idea that maybe he was “the one,” at least until he’d dumped her for her sister. But Jamie was so much…more.

  Was it even possible for her to stop her feelings for him from growing?

  Bristol pushed the question aside, at least for now. She glanced at her phone. She still had about forty-five minutes before she had to be back in the kitchen to ensure the dough for her cinnamon rolls rose properly before baking them for opening.

  Shoving the phone back in her pocket, she charged up the stairs again and found Jamie coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his lean waist. Water droplets dotted his hard flesh, rolled in the ridges between his chest, and down his abdomen. A sting of need flared between her legs. She swallowed hard, then ran at him.

  Jamie caught her as she wrapped her arms and legs around his waist and covered his lips with her own. He didn’t hesitate, simply plunged into her mouth with a moan and cupped her ass in his hands, as he eased them back toward her bedroom. Suddenly, she felt the mattress at her back and his body covering hers.

  He lifted his head, searching her face. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. What did I do?” He grinned. “Because if you’re going to thank me this way for a sandwich and a salad, I’ll feed you all day long.”

  She found herself honest-to-goodness giggling. “I appreciate that, too. I meant cleaning my kitchen downstairs.”

  Jamie brushed her hair back from her face. “So the fact that I cleaned your utensils all spick-and-span makes your ovaries flutter?”

  “That makes me sound easy.” She grimaced.

  He shook his head. “That makes you sound adorable. You’re not like other women.”

  “We covered this once. I know, I don’t get all gussied up and pray properly to the Revlon gods.”

  “Screw that. I mean, you don’t try to be anyone except yourself. You don’t act differently to please your mother. You didn’t put on a face to impress me. And you certainly had no problem telling Hayden how you feel.”

  Bristol cocked her head. “I guess some people don’t act like themselves when others are watching. That baffles me. Seems like a lot of effort merely to be miserable.”

  He nodded slowly. “Let’s just say I’ve met a lot of unhappy people over the years. Neurotic, insecure, self-absorbed. Hell, I was one for a long time. I didn’t really feel like myself for a decade.”

  “I can’t picture that.” He seemed so natural, so normal. “And where are you meeting these awful people?”

  “They’re everywhere. I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to be with someone so real.”

  He cut off the conversation by kissing her again, devouring her as if he was hungry, as if they hadn’t touched in a decade.

  Then she stopped thinking entirely when he peeled off her clothes and lost his towel. He tossed everything to the floor and grabbed a condom from his nearby jeans.

  After making her scream a couple of times so loudly she wondered if everyone on her block could hear, Bristol draped herself over his steely chest, still damp from exertion, and pressed a kiss between his pectorals. At the moment, she felt too sated to do anything else.

  “I’m happy, too. You’re a really decent guy,” she murmured, looking up his hard torso, into those dark eyes that had the power to make her shiver. “You’re considerate and helpful, not the sort of douche who would deceive me, like Hayden.”

  He smoothed his big hand over her crown and smiled. “Are you saying you like me, too?”

  “Yeah,” she admitted. Way more than I should. That realization made her a little uncomfortable because she worried it would end up one-sided, so she slid out of bed and grabbed for her clothes. “Um…I should get to work. I’m running late.”

  With a promise to drop in downstairs once he woke, Jamie gave her a lingering kiss good-bye. Bristol tried not to feel that jittery, excited, falling-in-love thing. But she failed miserably because it coursed through her veins and squeezed her heart as she tiptoed down the stairs. She was so deliciously sated that she didn’t care she was twenty minutes late getting back to her kitchen. Nope. She simply headed for her dough, pushing thoughts of tomorrow aside and wearing a big ol’ smile on her face.

  * * * *

  In a ridiculously good mood, Bristol turned on the radio and swayed to the music while she made goodies for her patrons that day. The bounce in her step was probably leftover pleasure hormones drifting through her body and the happiness of knowing that she’d get to be with Jamie for another few days.

  After a few crying-in-her-beer songs, Bristol changed the station from her usual contemporary country music to the happier Top-40 station out of Texarkana. She didn’t recognize many of the songs and artists since this wasn’t her usual thing, but this music matc
hed her mood.

  The hours slid by, and she figured Jamie would be sleeping. When she baked her first pan of cinnamon rolls, she took two upstairs and left them on the counter for him with a note. As she turned, she skirted the coffee table, heading for the door. One glance at the glass slab topping the pair of whiskey barrels proved that the notebook in which Jamie had been writing earlier was gone, but he’d left his phone behind. Bristol hesitated.

  She couldn’t deny a gnawing curiosity to know more about him. But peeking at his phone would be prying. Even if she blew past her principles, she would either be wildly disappointed or even more intrigued, depending on what she found. Nope. So they’d crossed into temporary friends-with-benefits territory. Maybe even a bit more. Still, that didn’t mean she needed to know his deepest thoughts. Because no matter how she defined their relationship, that didn’t entitle her to invade Jamie’s privacy.

  With a sharp nod, she left the phone untouched and made her way down the hall to find him sprawled out in her bed, one bulging arm thrown over his head, the bronzed ridges of his chest and abs bare. She cursed the sheet riding low on his hips, covering everything else.

  At a glance, he looked like the dangerous sort of man, built of brawn and brute strength. If he’d lived in another time, Jamie could have slayed his enemies with a quick slice of his sword before he claimed his woman with a ferocious kiss. God, she really had to stop the over romanticizing, even if she did have an amazing man in her bed.

  When he sighed in his sleep, Bristol couldn’t help the fond smile that crept over her face. He was more than gorgeous. He had a kind side. And he liked her. Having him here felt comfortable. Right. And it wasn’t simply because she didn’t want to be alone and he would do. Hayden had been here many times, and she’d always been a bit relieved when he’d left. No, around Jamie she simply felt grounded, like life was as it should be.

  Dangerous thoughts.

  Shaking her head, she headed back downstairs. The buzzing alarm on her phone reminded her when it was time to open the shop, so she started her first pot of coffee and waited for old Mr. Jones, who was eighty if he was a day. But he came every morning like clockwork at six thirty.

  Sure enough, as soon as she unlocked the door, he ambled in. Sun began streaming through her windows. He took a seat and she set a mug of coffee in front of him, along with a bowl of sugar and a cinnamon roll, as always. She watched him doctor his coffee with somewhere north of a half dozen teaspoons of sugar.

  “You know too much sugar is bad for you.” She grinned. Every day, they gave one another a hard time about something. She usually let him win.

  He waved her away, his old black hand gnarled with arthritis now. “When you’re my age, you feel like you’ve defied death for years. Bring it on, I say.”

  Bristol laughed. “Well, if I had your metabolism and didn’t have to worry about the size of my hips, I’d probably say the same thing.”

  “You’re a pretty thing. When is some smart man going to scoop you up?”

  “Maybe marriage isn’t for me.” She shrugged. “I mean, I already struggle to do my own laundry. The thought of doing someone else’s is awful.”

  “I married Mildred because my mama told me it was time to look after myself and I didn’t know the first thing about cooking.”

  That wasn’t entirely true, but Bristol let him talk. “Well, I know she fed you since you made it all these years.”

  “Yeah, but not a day has gone by since I lost my wife that I haven’t wished I’d married her sooner so I could have spent more time with her. God rest her soul.”

  Bristol’s heart fluttered. Mr. Jones’s longing made her wistful for something more. Her time with Jamie had probably contributed to that, too. She really had to stop romanticizing the man. One more nice gesture on his part and she’d probably fall head over heels. Once he figured it out, he’d likely wonder what the hell was wrong with her.

  “I know she would say the same if she could be with us,” Bristol said softly and took his hand.

  The old man closed his eyes and gave her a squeeze. “Find your someone while you’re young enough to build a whole lot of years together and share the love. Houses and jobs come and go. But there’s nothing better than having someone who’s your home.”

  She gave him a smile, trying not to tear up and show him her sadness. But every word he’d said called to her heart’s deepest desire. Her grandmother had once told her that she was meant to be married. But instead of baking for her husband and kids, she did so for the townsfolk. She mothered a cat. More often than not, she spent her intimate time with a vibrator.

  Bristol wanted more. The insidious thought crept in that she wanted Jamie.

  Nodding at the old man, she gave his hand one last squeeze before she turned away, taking an unnecessary trek to wipe off the counter next to the display case. It gave her a good reason to bow her head and collect herself.

  “I would, but none of the guys of my generation are as handsome or as fabulous as you.”

  “You’ll find someone. You’re too sweet to be alone.” He grinned. “And some smart fella who can’t cook for himself is going to treasure you.”

  “From your lips to God’s ears.” She winked as he rose slowly from his chair, left some money on the table, grabbed his cane, and made his way out the door.

  Mr. Jones had given her food for thought. She wasn’t that woman who couldn’t be complete without a man. She didn’t hate the life she’d built for herself. She wasn’t old-fashioned, and she certainly had aspirations of her own. But Bristol couldn’t deny she’d like to be a wife and mother.

  Someday.

  With a sigh, she headed back into the kitchen and worked her way through the majority of the morning customers. One of the new schoolteachers came in for a dozen cookies for her hardworking students as the end of the school year approached. A few stay-at-home moms popped in for coffee and veggie omelets on their way to yoga. The guys from the drugstore down the street came to snag an assortment of goodies for their post-lunch treat. When she looked up again, it was nearly eleven a.m. She’d have another lull before her few lunch customers came in, so she hustled to toss together a few salads and sandwiches for the display case.

  The radio still hummed in the background, now playing a new song of Jesse McCall’s. She grinned when she remembered the crush she’d had on him in high school. The new song was infectious and a little biting, with a hint of sexy, but she liked it. When it ended, the deejay took over the airwaves.

  “Scandal has been good for McCall’s new album. It’s number one in its second week. An official statement says he deeply regrets the overdose of a fan and the suicide of his bandmate. His publicist says he’s taking some time off to grieve, but a source close to the singer says no one has seen or heard from him in days. One of our listeners e-mailed this morning to say they think they saw him recently at Bubba Oink’s Bone Yard, cozying up to a brunette. Anyone else spot him?” The deejay laughed. “While y’all speculate on that, I’ve got another tune coming your way from Bruno Mars.”

  Presleigh and Hayden’s engagement party had been at Bubba Oink’s. Bristol would have liked to spot Jesse McCall there, to see if he was as hot in person as he was in pictures. During high school, she’d had a notebook with him on the front, and she’d loved staring into his dark eyes during geometry and fantasizing…

  She put the brakes on that thought. Dark eyes. Bubba Oink’s. A man without a last name who was taking a little time off from work and didn’t want to talk about his past…

  No, that man in her bed could not be Jesse McCall. They didn’t look that much alike, did they? That thought must be her overactive imagination stretching. Still, she withdrew her phone and launched her browser, bringing up images of the singer. None of them showed him with short hair or a skullcap or a clean-shaven face. But now that she looked closely, the shape of the face seemed similar. In most images he wore earrings, sometimes more than one. Jamie didn’t sport any, but she’d not
iced three empty holes in each ear. His eyes looked like a dead ringer for the rock star’s.

  Bristol scrolled a bit more, then came to an image that made her blood freeze in shock. Jesse McCall shirtless, with the same tribal tattoo on the same shoulder that she’d traced with her fingers, her tongue.

  It was possible Jamie had gotten the ink to look like Jesse.

  Or maybe Jesse McCall was hiding out in her apartment from the rest of the world and whiling away his time by having sex with her until his most recent media storm died down.

  It seemed crazy, almost impossible. Almost…but not quite. Either way, she needed the truth.

  Trying not to shake, she brought up Jayla’s contact on her phone and called.

  “Hey, girl!” her friend answered.

  “Can you come over here and mind the restaurant for a bit? Everything is made. All you have to do is work a cash register.” Bristol’s voice shook with anger. If what she suspected was true, then he’d deceived her. He’d preyed on a woman who’d recently recovered from another asshole, using her without a care for how she’d feel.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Maybe. I need…” Bristol didn’t want to explain now. She didn’t want to do anything but get to the truth. “Can you?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll be there in fifteen. What are you going to do?”

  “I might be giving our friend Jamie a huge piece of my mind.”

  Chapter Six

  The sound of a slamming door woke Jesse. He sat up in bed, disoriented. Immediately, he knew he wasn’t in a hotel room—thank god—but in Bristol’s bedroom. The whole place smelled like her, something that teased his senses with cinnamon and woman. He glanced at the clock and frowned. Had she come back for lunch?

  He heard footsteps marching down the hall, coming at him rapidly. That didn’t sound like the gait of a happy woman.

  Jesse swung his feet over the side of the bed and shoved on his pants. He was buttoning them when he caught sight of Bristol as she reached the doorway, looking tense and barely shy of furious.