“No. Wednesday nights are pretty slow.” She was still staring at him, and an undeniable—and mutual—awareness simmered between them. “Most likely, he’s at home with his wife.”
His brothers’ marital statuses had been included in his condensed background report, so Jackson was at least familiar with their significant others. Clay, owner of Kincaid’s, was married to Samantha. Mason, owner of Inked, a tattoo shop, was married to Katrina. And Levi, the youngest brother, who was a cop for Chicago PD, had recently become engaged to a woman named Sarah.
“Is there a way I can get ahold of him?” Now that Jackson was finally here, he didn’t want to drag this first meeting out any longer than necessary. The proverbial cat was out of the bag, and he also didn’t want to give any of the Kincaid brothers a reason to say no to meeting him.
She bit that lush bottom lip of hers, clearly considering his request while he contemplated her seductive mouth in general and the sinful things he’d like to do to it. But once again, Jackson instinctively knew her loyalty to Clay would win out and she wouldn’t be doing anything to or with him. Not until Clay had given Jackson his stamp of approval. As frustrating as that was, he couldn’t help but respect her for being so trustworthy.
“You seem like a really nice guy, Jackson,” she finally said earnestly. “I won’t give out Clay’s personal information, but I can do one of two things for you. I can take your information and pass it along to Clay, or I can call him now and see if he’s able to come down to the bar and meet you.”
Grateful that she hadn’t completely shut him down, he pushed his hands into the front pockets of his pants and graced her with one of his charming grins. “I’ll take option number two, please.”
She returned his smile before pulling her cell phone from the back pocket of her jeans. She pressed a few buttons on the screen of her phone, then held it up to her ear while half turning away from him, so that her face was averted, which he didn’t mind one damn bit considering the sexy view she’d just presented him with. While she waited for someone to answer her call, his gaze shamelessly skimmed down the side profile of her made-for-sin body, taking in her full, high breasts beneath the Kincaid’s T-shirt she wore and the sweet curve of her ass outlined in her formfitting jeans.
His eyes remained right there as a lustful heat coursed through his veins, turning up the temperature of his blood a few degrees. As he was a man who appreciated a toned and firm backside on a woman, hers teased him with the mental image of grabbing her ass while he pulled her hips toward his or smacking that softly rounded flesh with the palm of one hand while his other one fisted all that beautiful, long hair tight between his fingers as he aligned himself behind her.
He didn’t even try and waylay the twitch of his dick as those dirty thoughts filled his mind. No, he actually welcomed his body’s reaction to her. It had been too fucking long since any woman had piqued his interest or stimulated his cock. In just a matter of minutes, she’d managed both and he was definitely intrigued.
“Hey, hi, Clay, it’s Tara,” she finally said, trying to sound casual as she greeted her boss on the phone while also making Jackson privy to her name. “No, everything is just fine,” she rushed to assure him while casting a surreptitious glance back at him. “I’m calling because someone is at the bar to see you . . . and he wants it to be a surprise.”
Jackson hadn’t told her that, but he assumed she didn’t want to announce to Clay over the phone that he had a long-lost twin. Her delicate way of handling his impromptu visit was yet another thing he was grateful for, and a part of him was sorry for putting her in the middle of the situation.
As she listened to whatever Clay was saying to her in response, she rolled her eyes at Jackson, giving him the impression that Clay was trying to wheedle more information out of her. Behind him, he could hear people walking by . . . most likely employees getting ready for their shift, but they paid him no attention. Clearly, he didn’t resemble Clay from the back view, at least not dressed in an expensive suit.
“I know I’m being cryptic, but trust me, Clay,” she said persuasively. “You just need to come down to the bar and see for yourself. In fact, if Mason and Levi can join you, that would be even better.”
Meeting all three of his brothers at once was Jackson’s preference, too.
She went quiet while Clay talked another few seconds, then she finally said, “Okay, thank you.” Relief filled her tone. “I’ll see you in about half an hour.”
With a press of her finger, she disconnected the call, her expression conflicted when she turned fully toward Jackson again. “Clay sounded so suspicious on the phone,” she said with a grimace as she dragged her fingers through her hair. “God, he’s going to kill me for not giving him a heads-up about you.”
“It’s better this way,” he said, hoping to reassure her.
She nodded in understanding. “I know. That’s why I didn’t break the news to him that he had a twin.” She released a soft little laugh. “I mean, how do you explain something like that on the phone? It’s something Clay has to see for himself to believe it, and I didn’t want to give him the next half hour to drive himself nuts thinking about the hows and whys of your existence. That’s your story to tell.”
Yes, it was, and even he had to admit that the tale was one helluva story that had taken even him time to digest and accept. “Thank you, Tara.”
She gave him a wry look that was tinged with humor. “You can thank me by giving me a job at whatever fancy place you work at once Clay fires me for keeping you a secret.”
He chuckled. “If that happens, I promise I’ll make you my personal assistant.” As soon as the words left his mouth, his filthy mind imagined all the personal things she could do for him, and it had nothing to do with paperwork or fielding phone calls. No, it involved her servicing him in a whole different way.
She raised a perfectly arched brow, completely unaware of the direction his thoughts had just traveled. “I’m going to hold you to that, Mr. Stone.”
Her light, feisty personality had the tension in his shoulders ebbing, and for the first time since walking into the bar, he began to relax. Tara was like a breath of fresh air compared to how stifled and guarded he felt around most of the women he’d casually dated since his divorce. There were no expectations or pretenses with her and no reason for her to try and impress him.
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A perky blonde with a bounce in her step walked around Jackson and behind the bar. She was wearing the same T-shirt-and-jeans uniform as Tara, and she gave him a brief glance—the physical differences between him and Clay not yet registering.
“Hey, Clay, what are you doing here all dressed up in a suit? Is Samantha dragging you off to somewhere classier than this joint?” she teased over her shoulder as she put her purse into a cupboard.
Tara’s eyes glimmered with mirth. “Take another look, Amanda. That’s not Clay. It’s his twin, Jackson.”
“Ha ha,” Amanda responded drolly as she shifted her gaze back to him, clearly taking Tara’s comment as a joke.
The other woman studied Jackson for a casual moment, focusing on his facial features and the cut of his hair. It was comical to watch that shift from of course this is my boss, Clay to that moment when she realized that Tara hadn’t been yanking her chain after all.
Amanda’s jaw literally dropped open, then snapped shut again. “Clay has a freakin’ twin?” she exclaimed, loud enough that a few other employees in the place glanced his way curiously, as well.