The Love Experiment (Stubborn Hearts 1)

“You thought I was gay and something strange about underwear.”

She laughed. “And that you had balls the size of Texas, not speaking literally, of course.” She glanced at his crotch and blushed. “I like that you have this Jackson Haley professional thing going on and you care about your work, but that you’re not all ego and bluster. You’re the real deal. Walking competence porn. I like that I make you nervous.”

On the whole, people didn’t make him nervous. But the more he got to know Derelie the more that feeling surfaced. “How is that attractive?” He liked that she knew it wasn’t the questions exactly that had him on edge, it was what she made of the answers.

“Are you kidding? You like me, Jack. It’s the highest compliment you can pay me.”

He groaned. “I’ve created a monster.”

“Cliché.”

“Exactly my point.” He wagged the half-eaten apple at her.

“I like the way you kiss. I like that so much, and the way you held me and got a little needy with me. Oh man, I like that.”

He’d been desperately needy with her. And heroically restrained. “There are kids in this park.”

“I like the way you play it so smooth and unemotional but underneath you’re a man who craves softness, a way to be gentle without being judged. I like you for Martha and for your messy apartment and your Jesus jeans and your forearms and the fact you know the details of a hundred and ten case studies. If it’s not obvious, Jackson Haley, I am so, so into you it’s going to be mortifying if we don’t happen.”

He didn’t like her, he was infatuated with her, enchanted, captivated. Was it the enhanced intimacy of the experiment or had she drugged him? “How much do you hate my cigarettes?”

“They make you smell sweet. I like the way they tasted when we kissed.”

Game over. He took the clove packet out of the box and rolled a smoke. Held it away from her while he let the comfort of habit knock the last of his anxiety out.

“I like the way you’re not WYSIWYG.” What you saw wasn’t what you got with her. “You look all stereotypical butter wouldn’t melt, apple pie wholesome, farm fresh and ridiculously candy sweet. But you’re more. You’re resilient and quick-witted and a fast study. You have this determination that shines like a light under your skin. Much as it makes me uneasy—fuck, near terrifies me—I like the way you see through me, and it doesn’t scare you off. You turn me on, make me want. If you’re under any illusion I’ve got any cool left when it comes to you, I’m going to be a shocking disappointment.”

She gave him a look he wanted to interpret as “you couldn’t disappoint me if you tried,” and that worried him, because there was a dump truck load of ways he could.

“We’re supposed to share an embarrassing moment,” he said, flapping the page at her.

“You embarrassed me for real that day at the briefing. Everyone looked at me. I felt like the biggest idiot. I was worried Phil would think I’m not a good fit and voluntarily lay me off.”

Fuck. He knew all that. He wore it in the black eye and the cut brow and the bruising. “Did I make you cry?”

“You made me go hide in the bathroom because I wanted to cry, but then you made me hate you enough I held it together. I shouldn’t have asked that question, it was dumb, but you were the one with the power and you used it to ridicule me.”

“It’s one of the most embarrassing moments of my life too. That’s the entire reason I look like this.” He lifted the side of his shirt. The bruise above his hip was a purple stain, tender to touch, irritated by the waistband of his jeans. “I can help with Madden if it becomes an issue.”

“I don’t want your help, Jack. I can fix it myself.”

Entirely what he deserved. He took another bite of the apple. He wasn’t going to be allowed the luxury of acting the big man and saving her. She would save herself.

He checked the page—too many questions left. “We’re supposed to share what we dislike about each other.”

She pushed hair away from her face. “I don’t like it when you pull that Jackson Haley, Human Dinkus crap in front of me. When you look at me as if we live in different worlds and mine is inferior.”

“Defense mechanism,” he offered flatly. It went with the way she challenged his masculinity.

“Well, stop it.”

He liked the heat of command in her voice. “I dislike the fact you’re going to complicate my life, Derelie Honeywell.”

“Suck it up, you big dinkus.”

“Next question. ‘When did you last cry?’”

“I cried on the phone to my mom, about three months after I got here. I hated everything about the city and I’d been saying how great it was and I was so caught in that lie. I didn’t know if I could cut it at the Courier and everyone wanted me to give up and come home and I didn’t want to let on that’s what I wanted most in the world.”