Pure Wicked Page 9

  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 noticed 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, disor
iented. 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.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” A nasty suspicion took root in his head. “Did Hayden come back? Because if he did, I’ll—”

  “What’s your last name?”

  The out-of-nowhere question made Jesse freeze. Was she onto him? “Does it matter?”

  “You know it does.”

  So she’d figured him out. And she was pissed. Most of the women he’d known in his adult life would be thrilled to learn his identity. They’d be ecstatic to realize they’d been screwing a star. Not Bristol.

  On soft footfalls, he headed in her direction. “Let’s sit down and talk about this.”

  “I don’t want to sit down.” She gritted her teeth. “I want an answer. Did you or did you not lie to me about who you are?”

  He rubbed at his forehead. He would have liked to brush his teeth and have some coffee before this confrontation. That would buy him some time so he could figure out what to say. The usual charm with his rock star smile and a flash of dimples wasn’t going to cut it. He wanted her to understand that he’d never meant to hurt her. He couldn’t let her think for an instant that he’d used her or didn’t give a shit.

  Because as far as he could tell, Bristol was the first woman he’d cared about in a long fucking time.

  He took her shoulders in a light grip, his head racing. “I’m sorry.”

  She shook him off. “Maybe after we’d shared the sheets a time or two, you might have bothered to mention that I’m not sleeping with Jamie No-last-name, but Jesse freaking McCall. Were you ever going to tell me?”

  Her eyes filled with tears, and the guilt gouged his heart.

  “You kept hinting that we were merely hooking up.” He shrugged. “At first, that was fine. I thought you were interesting and I needed a place to lay low. You’ve heard about my bandmate and the awful tragedy last week?” When she nodded, he reached for her again. “I wasn’t there. I had nothing to do with it. My publicist told me to go underground while she worked on communicating that to the public. It made sense.” He tried to smile. “Besides, she’s scary. I tend to do what she says.”

  The quip fell flat. Hurt crossed her face. “So I was a way to pass the time while you hid from everyone? Great.”

  “No.” He got serious again. “It would have been better for me if I didn’t care about you so damn much, but from the beginning something about you grabbed onto me and wouldn’t let go. It’s why I jumped in to help you back at that barbeque dive. I couldn’t look at your sad eyes and not want to make you happy. I still can’t.”

  “So you feel sorry for me? Gave me a few pity fucks?”

  “God, no! I like you. Remember?” Jesse more than suspected his feelings for Bristol went deeper, but he wasn’t sure she would hear him now—or believe him. “But being famous, I have to be careful. People have sold me out before. Folks I’ve hired or I thought were my friends have taken pictures of me or prowled through my personal information and sold it. You’ve seen the pictures of me in the shower?”

  She nodded sheepishly. “Everyone has. Didn’t some girlfriend of yours take them?”

  “Supposedly. Five weeks into the relationship, she chose half a million dollars over me. So you’re not the only one who’s felt used.”

  “That’s terrible. I would never…” She shook her head.

  No, she wouldn’t violate his privacy like that. He might not have known her as long as he had Sierra before she’d betrayed him. Bristol wasn’t a fame monger. She knew what being used felt like.

  “I get that now,” he assured. “At first, I wasn’t sure, and what I did know of you… I really wasn’t sure whether you wanted revenge sex so you’d have something to shove in Hayden’s face or if you actually liked me.”

  Her expression softened for a moment, and Jesse hoped that meant he was reaching her. “I do like you.” Then she toughened up again. “ Or I did. If you thought I was only using you, why did you come home with me?”

  “Honestly? I wanted you too much to pass you up. I meet a lot of women…”

  That full mouth of hers pinched and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course you do. You’d said that. Now I understand.”

  And Bristol’s expression said that she felt stupid. When she closed her eyes as if castigating herself, Jesse couldn’t stand there and not touch her.

  He closed the distance between them and crushed her against his body. When she struggled to break free, he held her tighter and set his lips against her ear. “Please let me hold you. What I’m trying to say is that I knew you were different immediately, and I liked you so much that I couldn’t walk way. I’ve spent a decade with people who didn’t mean anything to me. You’re different. But I had to know you before I could risk telling you who I am.”

  She didn’t say a word for the longest time, merely crossed her arms over her chest as if protecting herself. But he could see the wheels turning in her head, examining the situation. He thanked god she was too polite not to listen and too logical for his rationale to escape her.

  “I hear what you’re saying,” she said finally. “In your shoes, I probably wouldn’t have told me, either. I shouldn’t be upset that you had to protect yourself from a near stranger because you didn’t know if I would sell you out. But that doesn’t make being lied to hurt less.”

  Jesse felt guilty for not believing in her sooner and coming clean, but grateful she understood, at least on some level. “Hurting you was never my intention, so I really am sorry for that. But I think you also never expected to care about me.” He curled a finger under her chin but she resisted meeting his gaze. “Are you this upset because you do?”

  Her eyes widened to big green pools of confusion and contrition. More tears shimmered, threatening to spill. “I swore off relationships. I’m bad with romance.”

  “You’re bad…or you’ve tried it with the wrong people? I’ve made the same mistake.” He took a deep breath, diving head first into the already deep conversation. “I’m going to put the truth out there. I’ve never felt this way with any other woman.”

  Instantly, she shot him a scathing, skeptical stare. “You don’t have to let me down easy with a lie.”

  “I wouldn’t bother.” He anchored his hands in her hair and clenched his fists. “If you were anyone else, after the sex I would have already shrugged and walked away.”

  “So you’re saying all those celebrities and groupies you’ve screwed don’t hold a candle to me? Right…”

  Her sarcasm bit, and he tugged on her hair. “They didn’t. Everything about you makes sense to me. And let me tell you, nothing in my life has made sense in a long time—especially not relationships. You’re pretty without artifice, kind even to the people who have wronged you, smart, ambitious. And you’re refreshingly not narcissistic or mercenary. You admitted that we click.”

  Agreement crossed Bristol’s face, though she didn’t say it aloud. “So?”

  “I’m going to ask again, are you this upset because you didn’t want to care about me? Or because it shocks you that you do?”

  She pulled away from him with a huff, her little fists clenching. “Why can’t I be normal? The rest of the free world can find someone and hook up for a day or two without getting involved emotionally. The first time I try, what happens? Yeah, I wind up being all giddy and excited. You walk in the room and I feel something in my stomach flutter. I can barely wait to touch you. Or even talk to you. I have to remind myself not to fall in love. And now I’m maki
ng an idiot out of myself with one of the most famous people on the planet.” She shook her head. “I was already aiming high with the prince of Lafayette County because he was nice to me once upon a time and—”

  “Don’t beat yourself up about Hayden. He’s the deficient one. He broke apart from you to be with your sister because he can’t equal you in intellect, ambition, or character. He found someone more his speed. If he’d stayed much longer, you would have realized he wasn’t for you.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “He left you before you could beat him to it. He probably felt outdone by you. But don’t for one second think that small-town prick split because you weren’t good enough for him, so therefore you’re nowhere near enough for me. It’s bullshit, and I’ll argue with you all day long.”