Page 11

11

Jack

45 minutes earlier

I an steps up beside me. “This event is boring as shit.”

I look around the venue. About fifty people are milling about, not one of them paying attention to the band playing in the corner. Normally, Ian and I wouldn’t work an event like this. We would put some of the less experienced guys on it. But this was a last-minute addition to the schedule, and we didn’t have enough people to cover them all. I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time. It’s a little after eight.

“I’m going to head out. I want to get something to eat and then go the fuck to bed. You got this?”

Ian nods, eyes shifting around the crowd. “Yeah, boss. You’re good.”

With a grunted goodbye, I stalk out of the venue and down the street to the SUV. I pull out my phone one more time, wishing I had a notification waiting from a curvy goddess who confuses the hell out of me. I loved having dinner with her. While beautiful, listening to her talk about her childhood and how she volunteers because of her foster mother was more than I was prepared for.

Then it all changed.

One minute, I was talking to the waitress, and the next, Gisella was barely talking to me. Barely looking at me. And she seemed miserable.

And as I went to ask her out again when I walked her to the car, she cut me off like I was going to reject her.

As if that was ever an option.

As I pull away from the curb, I decide to call her this weekend. I gave her a couple of days, but that’s all I can do. I need to see her.

I park down the street from one of my favorite restaurants. Shoving my hands in my pockets as I walk down the street, I’m lost in my thoughts of Gisella. I move to the side as a couple exits the restaurant before stepping in.

My eyes adjust to the dim lights, and I have to blink to make sure I’m seeing what I think I am.

As if my thoughts made her materialize, Gisella sits at the bar. Her long, dark hair flows down her back, and she looks breathtaking as always.

My jaw tightens when the idiot next to her leans in to say something. When I see the expression on her face, I don’t hesitate and storm across the room. Satisfaction explodes at the grimace on his face when I slap a hand on his shoulder. But I can’t take my eyes off Gisella. At least the look of fear has slipped from her features. If it hadn’t, a hand on the shoulder isn’t all this guy would be getting.

“Time to go, buddy. She’s not interested. ”

The man scoffs. “You don’t know that.”

What a fucking idiot.

I swing my eyes from Gisella to glare at the man. He winces as I tighten my grip. “Move. You’re in my seat.”

The man snarls, “Fine.”

I release his shoulder, moving to the side to allow him to do as I insisted. Standing behind Gisella, I can’t resist touching her. My hand finds her back. She sucks in a sharp breath that goes immediately to my dick.

As I take the recently vacated seat, the bartender starts to hand me a menu, but I wave him off. “I don’t need it. I know what I want. Just a burger and fries and whatever IPA you have on draft. And anything the lady wants.”

The bartender addresses Gisella with a smile that’s too friendly for my liking. “Another Chardonnay?”

“Sure, thank you.”

After the bartender leaves us, Gisella trains her green eyes on me. “What if I wanted to talk to that guy?”

I lean back, crossing my arms across my chest. Anger courses through my veins just thinking about her talking to another man. “Yeah, that look of terror on your face told me you were really into whatever lame-ass pickup line he was laying on you.”

Immediately, her cheeks flush. “I, uh, misunderstood him. I thought he said something else.” She releases a sigh and sits back. “But I wasn’t interested. So thank you.”

Thank fuck.

The bartender returns with our drinks. I take a sip of beer as she picks up her wine. Her eyes are on me, taking me in as if she’s memorizing every move.

Her chest rises with a deep inhale that draws my attention down. I shift in my seat, my jeans becoming tight.

“Jack, I want to say I’m sorry for the other night. ”

I place my elbows on the bar, running my fingers around the frost on my glass. I clench the other in frustration at myself. “You don’t need to apologize, Gisella. I’m sorry if I did something to upset you.”

Lightning zips through me when her hand slides onto my bicep. “It wasn’t you at all. I’ve had a lot on my mind, and it got to me the other night.”

Usually, I would feel relief that it wasn’t something I did, but I’m too distracted by where her hand is on my arm. She moves to pull her hand away, but I’m not ready to lose the connection. I place my hand on hers to keep it in place. Our eyes meet until mine drop. Her lips part, and I have to stifle a groan when her tongue darts out to wet them. Before I do something insane like rip her clothes off in the middle of the restaurant, I clear my throat, release her hand, and put a little distance between us.

I’m glad to move on to a safer topic when she says, “I’d ask if you tracked the G-Wagon to know I was here, but I didn’t drive.”

I laugh. I did, in fact, check the tracker multiple times earlier, which showed her at work and then at home. But I answer honestly, “No, my walking in here was strictly by chance.”

The bartender drops off my food. I start eating, even as another kind of hunger permeates me.

Out of the corner of my eye, Gisella’s watching me again as she sips her wine, a contemplative expression playing on her features.

“Quarter for your thoughts?”

Her nose scrunches up. “Pretty sure it’s penny for your thoughts.”

I set my burger down and wipe my hands on my napkin. “Nah, yours are worth more to me. ”

And they are. I would pay a lot of money to know what goes on in the pretty head of hers.

She rolls her lips in and presses them together, the corners turning up slightly. Eventually, she shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

I disagree, but I let the moment pass. Instead, I say, “Those cookies were really good.”

Her face lights up. “I’m so glad you liked them. Did you end up sharing them?”

“Absolutely not.” I probably won’t admit to anyone how much I enjoyed eating every single one, simply because she made them. But I wasn’t lying. They were delicious. “Did you ever think about opening a bakery instead of going into accounting?”

She gives a sad shrug. “Not really. When I was younger and thinking about a career, I wanted something that was very stable. I always had chaos and uncertainty around me, so having a career that was dependable made me feel safe.”

It gave her control. Which makes complete sense to me. That’s probably why I went into the military and later started my own company. It allowed me to be in a career that required extreme amounts of self-discipline that help give me a greater sense of control. As for the part of her feeling safe…that calls to a deeper part of me. One that wants to do everything I can to make sure she keeps feeling that way.

She continues, her voice soft and reflective. “I think there was also a part of me that was concerned that if it was my job, I wouldn’t enjoy it as much. Baking is how I decompress after a stressful day. Or perk myself up when I’m sad.” A small smile plays across her full lips that I want to devour like her cookies. “So, I figured it was better to keep it as a hobby. ”

As I finish my meal, she asks me about the event I just came from, and I tell her some of the more amusing stories I have from working security both at events and for individuals. Her laughter hits me straight in the balls. I always thought I had more sophisticated turn-ons, but apparently, they have regressed to being able to make a woman laugh.

Or, more specifically, just this one.

By the time I’m done paying both our bills and arguing with Gisella that I don’t care if she thinks I shouldn’t pay for a dinner I wasn’t even present for, I’m hard as a rock.

“Uh, Jack?” Gisella’s nervous lilt has my full attention. I turn on the barstool to face her more fully. “Will you wait with me until my ride-share gets here? It would be nice to, um, not wait by myself.”

I rear back slightly in surprise. As if I would ever just leave her to get into some stranger’s vehicle, alone. “No, Gisella. I’m not going to wait with you.” Her face falls. “Because I’m driving you home. This is not up for debate.”

Her shy smile does not help the uncomfortable situation in my pants, but I wouldn’t trade that for anything at the moment.

We stand, and I gesture for her to lead the way through the restaurant. I follow close behind, selfishly taking a few moments to enjoy the view.

Once we’re outside on the sidewalk, my hand finds its way to her lower back as I guide her to my vehicle. The brush of her arm against my side lights my skin on fire.

I help her into the passenger seat and buckle her in, once again ignoring her protests that I didn’t need to do that.

We settle into a comfortable silence as I drive through the crowded city streets.

When we’re a few minutes from her building, Gisella shifts in her seat to turn my way. “I’m glad you showed up tonight, Jack.”

I have to clear my throat at the bolt of arousal caused by her soft-spoken words. “I am, too.”

After I park at the sidewalk and help her from the car, I escort her to the exterior door of her building. Gisella pivots to me and turns her face up, a shy smile on her full lips.

I don’t question my next move. My hand slides under her hair, grasping her neck. I pull her head up to meet mine as I bend down. Gisella’s hands clasp my waist as my lips touch hers. Her tongue greedily toys with mine, telling me all I need to know about whether she was hoping this would happen as much as I was. Wrapping my other arm around her waist, I pull her flush against me. Her arms wrap around me and squeeze as my fingers up her neck and into her hair, grasping from the roots to tighten my hold. Her answering moan incites more desire to explode within me than I thought possible from just a kiss. She feels so goddamn good against me.

It isn’t until I hear the click of the door to her building closing that I remember we’re on the sidewalk.

I rest my forehead on hers as we catch our breaths. My voice is husky when I say, “You should go inside.”

She doesn’t immediately move. After a few more moments, she shifts back. I lessen my grip, but keep my hold on her. Pressing my lips to her forehead in one last kiss, I release her and step back. “Text me you’re in your condo with the door locked.”

My jaw clenches when her tongue darts out to taste her lips. This woman’s mouth is much too tempting.

Her voice is barely audible when she says, “Goodnight, Jack.”

I don’t trust myself not to beg her for more. All I can manage is a nod in response. I shove my hands in my pockets as I watch her disappear inside her building. I stand, staring at the door, until my phone vibrates with a text.

Gisella: I’m inside. With the door locked. Thank you for the ride home.

I type out a message as I return to where I’m parked, all with a smile plastered on my face.

Me: Anytime. Sweet dreams.