Page 81 of Forbidden Forward
I avoid her question by asking one of my own. “Has anyone mentioned this to Jackie? Does she know?”
“They haven’t said anything to her, but they’re trying to figure out what to do next. They’re going to meet and come up with a plan of action. You can’t tell her, Colby.”
“Won’t be an issue. We’re going on the road anyway.” Not until Sunday morning, which means I’ve either got to cancel my plans with Jackie this weekend or lie my way through it.
Fuck!
On the way home, I debate calling Peggy and decide to hold off, though all of me itches to get more information about this demand letter. What the hell could present-day Jackie be doing that ties to her old job?
In the condo, I lower myself to the couch and move three giant breaths in and out of my lungs. It does little to slow my pulse or take the edge off my nerves. I stare at Jackie’s last text on my screen and tap out an answer.
Sorry for the delay. Got stuck on a few calls. Come down as soon as your bro clears out. Can’t wait to take those lacy bits off your hot little body. Dinner around 8. OK?
She answers right away that she’ll be there, and I stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows, wondering if I’ll have recovered my appetite by then.
A few hours later, it turns out that while I might have lost my appetite for food, my appetite for Jackie is as unquenchable as ever. The moment she walks in and I lock the door behind her, I’m on her, practically panting to uncover those lacy bits of hers that have been dancing in my imagination and driving me out of my fucking mind. I strip her down and admire them for all of ten seconds. Then those are gone, and I’m inside her, and we’re doing what we do best together: tearing up my sheets. I’ve never had this much sex with one person in my life, yet I still can’t get enough when it comes to her. Making love to Jackie is better than sailing. Better than hockey. I never imagined feeling that way about any woman. I try not to contemplate what that means for the future. Lost in Jackie, I forget what Harper said and my sister’s troubling news for a while.
We’re in the kitchen, me in sweats and Jackie in nothing but one of my T-shirts and the sheer G-string she wore when she walked in. That thing should be illegal, and I’m trying not to ogle her fine ass every time she moves and the tee lifts. I need to focus. The fettuccine Alfredo isn’t going to make itself. With a frustrated groan, I arrange bacon in a skillet and turn on the burner.
“How was your day?” She cheerfully pops a peanut in her mouth as she leans her forearms on my counter, looking for all the world like she belongs here. If she has any inkling about what’s going down at New Horizons, she doesn’t show it.
My day seems like it happened years ago, but I tell her about the marshmallow contest with her brother, carefully avoiding anything that could lead into a discussion about what he said afterward or what I’ve learned about her trouble at work.
Jackie roars with laughter. “Of all the players the PR person had to choose from, she picked the two of you?”
“There weren’t many of us left in the locker room, and we happened to be the first ones she saw—fully dressed and ready to go, that is.”
More giggles bubble from her, and despite the concrete block of dread sitting in my stomach, I chuckle. I love hearing her laughter. It washes over me like music. And to know I’m the one making her laugh is the chef’s kiss.
Fuck. I’m also the guy who could crush her in an instant because I know about her job.
She shakes her head, her loose blond waves brushing her cheeks. “I can’t wait to see the video.”
“Yeah, well, there’s no guarantee they’re going to broadcast it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she hustles two other dumbasses and starts from scratch. Tell me about your day.” Sure, I want to know, but I’m also probing.
“It was great. You know, I was afraid I couldn’t master the challenge, but I’m getting more comfortable every day. I can see staying there a long time.” Her proud grin tugs at me. She has no clue what’s headed her way, and I don’t know how to protect her from it. “You okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” I lie.
Her pretty green eyes light up. “What if this video you and Donny did together is the beginning of you guys patching things up?”
Highly doubtful.
I grunt in response and fill a pot with water to boil.
“No, seriously.” Her expression is pure earnestness now, and she wriggles, getting comfy as she settles her upper body across my counter, utterly clueless that her sprawling causes my T-shirt to ride up and expose her mouthwatering ass. My one-track mind abandons its worrying and detours to the tiny triangle of fabric that barely covers the landscape below her belly button. “Let’s say things do thaw between you and Donny. We might be able to tell him now.”
Shock replaces my lust haze, and it takes a few seconds for her words to register. Tell her brother now? When he’s just threatened to throw her out on the street and New Horizons is investigating her?
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I mumble as I turn over the frying bacon.
“What happened to you insisting we tell him so we don’t have to keep hiding?” she counters.
Why the fuck does she pick now to switch course? Her tacking back and forth gives me whiplash.
Gripping the tongs a little too hard, I turn off the burner and lay them down. “That was weeks ago, Jackie. You wanted to wait until after the season, and there’s zero guarantee anything is warming between your brother and me. Besides, I’ve got enough on my plate with the playoff race. Things are intense right now.”
She slumps on the barstool, watching me through narrowed eyes. “So we just keep hiding?”
