Page List


Font:  

He’d had to swallow a mouthful of curses.

But...was he pining? What, exactly, did he want from Brook Lynn?

Irritated with himself now, Jase worked outside for hours, even skipping lunch to avoid being around the temptation of her. Of course, after a while, she brought food to him.

She’s concerned for me. Caring for me.

Ruining me.

Stopping himself from grabbing hold of her and pulling her body against his might have been the most difficult thing he’d ever done.

When dusk finally descended, she peeked her head out the window and called, “Jase. I need you.”

Just like that, he was hard. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” When she disappeared back inside the house, he stored his tools and entered the kitchen. She bustled around between the stove and the counter, mixing ingredients.

“You need something?” he asked. Need me?

“Yeah. Answers. Did you tell Kenna you’d help me with my fun list?”

More like demanded. “Yes,” he reluctantly admitted.

“Well, then, you need to help me. I’m ready to check off another item.”

Dance for me. He cleared his throat. “How about we hustle West and Beck during a poker game tonight?”

She glanced at him, bit her lip nervously—and it was sexy as hell. “Shouldn’t I learn how to play first?”

“You’ve never played?”

Wiping her hands on a towel, she said, “Would you be able to teach me? It isn’t that hard, is it? It looks so easy and fun on TV, so I’m absolutely certain I can learn, like, superfast.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. He retrieved a deck of cards and shuffled. As her newest casserole baked, he showed her how to pull a royal flush, straight flush, four of a kind, full house, flush, straight, three of a kind, two pair and the two least desired hands. He taught her about the flop, river and turn, and through it all, she nodded her head.

Then they played several hands. She lost. Badly.

“You’ll get better,” he said. In a few years. Maybe a few decades. “As for tonight, let’s hustle West and Beck at pool. You can play that, right?”

The lip-biting started up again. “Sure I can...if you teach me how.”

The timer on the oven went off, and right on cue the front door opened and closed. Jase had begun to suspect his friends clocked their days according to Brook Lynn’s meal preparation.

West and Beck entered the kitchen, both sniffing the air and moaning with approval.

“What’d you make this time?” West rubbed his hands together. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair a mess. Once again he smelled of alcohol.

“What?” Jase said. “No greeting for me? You just go straight to the girl with the food?”

“Yeah, I’m smart like that.” West slapped him on the shoulder. “Brook Lynn? I believe I asked you a very important question.”

She laughed with genuine amusement. “This is called Thanksgiving Dream. It’s turkey and dressing, with a mix of green beans and potatoes, and a cranberry sauce topping.”

“Rename it Heaven in a Dish.” Beck reached out to pinch a piece of the dressing. “And then you’re going to marry me right here, right now.”

Jase scowled at him.

“Bad boy.” Brook Lynn slapped at Beck’s hand before he could sample the dish. “Also, my answer is heck, no.”

“Um, I hate to break it to you,” Beck said, “but I was proposing to the casserole.”

“She says she’d rather die the death of a thousand bites,” Brook Lynn replied, deadpan.

“Oh, I’ll bite her all right,” Beck replied, equally deadpan. “And I guarantee she changes her mind. From what I hear, my mouth is pure magic.”

Brook Lynn laughed again, only to grow quiet when her gaze collided with Jase’s in a tangle of need.

I better unknot soon, he thought. Or else.

* * *

BROOK LYNN FOUGHT hard to hide the evil-overlord quality of her grin.

Hook, line, sinker.

While Beck and West took care of the dishes, Jase ushered her into the poolroom, where the mighty fine table he had never allowed her to polish or clean awaited. He helped her pick a cue. The shortest one he owned.

She pretended to pay attention when he planned the break, the first shot of the game. He told her about the scratch, when the cue ball jumped off the table, and how to continue afterward. He let her start, standing behind her to help her line up her shot, his body flush against hers.

Suddenly, fighting a grin wasn’t her biggest problem. Can’t breathe...can barely stand. Her knees wouldn’t stop trembling.

“See how the balls are laid out? The solids will be easiest to sink this game, so that’s what you’ll pick,” he said.

The connection screwed with her concentration, and missing her shot proved easy.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Even the best players miss sometimes. I rarely do, but that’s just me.”

Oh, Jase. You have no idea what’s in store for you. “But I haven’t hit a single one,” she said, turning to pout at him.

Had her uncle always had this much fun with his cons?

The thought sobered her. Shake it off. She wasn’t doing this to get something out of someone, but to have a good time with someone who liked to tease her to the edge of insanity. Huge difference.

Jase sifted a lock of her hair between his fingers. “How about we play doubles eight ball? We’ll be partners, and we’ll alternate shots. I’ll be able to set you up.”


Tags: Gena Showalter The Original Heartbreakers Romance