She wanted to say yes so badly but was instead filled with regret. “I can’t. I have to be at work at four, and I close down the bar tonight.”
His lips flattened into a sullen line. “Can I just say I hate your fucking schedule?” he grumbled unhappily.
For the first time ever, so did she. “Are you seriously pouting right now?”
“No,” he insisted, though the small smirk that suddenly replaced his glum expression contradicted his denial. “I just want to make you, and us, work. I want to see you and date you and just . . . be with you.”
Oh, this man made her heart all aflutter. “I want the same thing,” she whispered.
“Then we’ll figure out a way to make it work,” he said as his hands dropped to her hips, then circled around to grab her ass, hauling her to the edge of the counter so the front zipper of his jeans was pressed tight against her sex.
“Okay,” she agreed breathlessly.
“Good.” He effortlessly picked her up, and she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist to hold on while he headed back toward her bedroom, then set her on the bed. “But for right now, since our time today is limited, I vote for spending it right here, between these gorgeous thighs of yours.”
She bit her bottom lip as her body started to melt. “I vote for the same thing,” she said as he pulled her shorts and panties off and did the same with her tank top.
“See?” he murmured, a pleased smile on his face as he settled between her spread legs, his mouth inches away from where she wanted him the most. “Look at how fucking compatible we are.”
Her only answer was a compatible moan as he proceeded to show her in detail exactly how well they fit together.
Chapter Eleven
Have fun shopping with Samantha today. Buy something sexy to wear to the party on Saturday that I’ll have fun taking off later when we’re alone.
Tara smiled, her heart feeling lighter than air as she read Jackson’s sweet text. She was meeting Samantha in about an hour at a boutique in Chicago close to where she worked as a pastry chef. Since Jackson was taking Tara to an anniversary gala for his firm, where she was meeting his bosses and colleagues for the first time, she wanted Samantha to help her find something sophisticated and classy, with a subtle bit of sexy thrown in just for Jackson. She desperately wanted to make a good first impression, and that tiny insecure part of her wanted to fit in his upper-class world and be the respectable girlfriend he deserved on his arm. She wanted to make him proud.
She bit her bottom lip and replied. Don’t you know it’s all about the anticipation of unwrapping the outer package and enjoying the surprise beneath . . . all in good time?
Jackson quickly texted back, Can I unwrap you before the party? I promise to make it worth your while.
She laughed. The man was incorrigible and insatiable. Absolutely not. I’m not going to meet your bosses knowing you defiled me before we even left my house.
Fine, but be warned that I plan to make up for it once we get back to my place.
She was already looking forward to it. Fair enough.
I’ve got a meeting to go to. I’ll stop by Kincaid’s tonight to see you at work.
Okay. TTYL. Tara hesitated, then before she changed her mind, she added a pink sparkly heart emoji to the end of her text—the first indication she’d ever given Jackson that her feelings for him were so much stronger than she’d been able to put into words.
Much to her surprise, he replied with a smiley face with heart eyes.
Silly as it was, her heart did a happy little dance. She set her phone down on her nightstand and finished getting dressed for her shopping expedition with Samantha.
Five weeks ago, and prior to meeting Jackson, Tara never would have thought she could fall in love with a man so quickly. But in those five weeks, Jackson Stone had definitely altered her emotions in the best way possible. In ways
that made her heart feel full whenever she was with him and empty when they were apart. He made her believe that fairy tales existed and made her hopeful for her own happily-ever-after, when she’d lived the past six years certain she didn’t deserve that kind of bliss.
She actually saw a future with Jackson. Every moment that she spent with him made her more aware of how in sync they were and made her feel as though she’d found the one person who understood and accepted her, despite the mistakes she’d made in the past. He made her laugh, he made her feel beautiful, and he made her feel . . .whole. It certainly didn’t hurt that the man was sexy as fuck and knew a dozen filthy ways to make her body hum with pleasure.
She loved that Jackson was forging a relationship with Clay, Mason, and Levi. He’d been upfront about the assault charge and what had happened, and the guys actually apologized for jumping to wrong conclusions. The Kincaid brothers were making a concentrated effort on their end to get to know Jackson, as well. Including learning about the past and the kind of childhood he’d had, which had been as troubled as their own.
They met for drinks at the bar at least once a week, and Jackson had invited them to a Cubs game at Wrigley Field, where his company sponsored one of the luxury suites over home plate. Yeah, the guys had been impressed, and Mason had even deemed his brother “a cool guy.” And last Saturday, Clay had taken all of them to the Chicagoland Speedway for an afternoon of racing stock cars.
The brothers’ growing relationship made Tara extremely happy, and she knew that Jackson was finally beginning to feel like maybe, possibly, he had a chance to fit into the Kincaid family.
Her cell phone on the nightstand vibrated, and, hoping it was another text from Jackson—yeah, she really did have it bad for him—she picked it up in anticipation and was surprised to see a message from Clay instead.