Mate?
I glance at him briefly before I’m forced to turn my attention back to the customer who has decided to check every coloring book on the shelf, asking all the while which ones are more relaxing and whether getting them online would be cheaper.
Jet is Australian? There was an unmistakable hint of an accent there. Christ, can the man get any sexier? Did he have to go and get an accent, too?
That’s it, I’m blaming these two boys for my obsession. Yes, I’m sick and crazy about you, and it’s on you. So I’ll stop feeling guilty about it.
Easier said than done.
Plus, he’s still staring at his cracked phone—a phone I caused him to break—and drumming his fingers on his thigh. Two spots of color have appeared on his white cheekbones, and he’s still breathing hard.
Like he had on Saturday, when he had the headache and I drove him home.
I’m aching to ask what is wrong, but… customer. Who now wants to know whether we do discounts if she buys two books instead of one.
No, lady. Not unless there’s a sticker on the book saying so. Not unless there’s a label on the shelf saying so. Please, make up your mind and go.
I feel bad for thinking that, but then I feel profound relief when she finally picks a book and heads to the register where Donna is sitting, reading the latest romantic comedy by Helena Hunting and giggling to herself.
I’m scared to imagine what our customers must think of us. They’ll probably never return. And strangely enough, it’s probably not entirely my fault.
Look at our boss, for chrissakes. Now she’s cackling out loud and rocking in her chair.
Jethro at least has put his phone away, but his gaze is curiously empty as he leans against the shelf, arms crossed over his chest. Blank. Not what I’d expect after the manic energy that had vibrated through him during the call.
I don’t like this. At all.
“Hey, Jet.” I keep my voice soft, because he looks like he could be easily startled. “Is everything okay? Who was that on the phone?”
He blinks slowly as if noticing me for the first time. “My cousin,” he rasps, his voice scratchy.
“Is he okay?”
He shakes his head, and you know what? Screw this. I slide beside him and put an arm around his lean hips. “Tell me how to help him. Help you.”
He’s rigid against me, an unfinished statue of a man. “You can’t, girl. I’ve got a fucked-up family. Hell, I’m fucked-up, too. Nothing anyone can do.”
He’s not going to talk. I can feel it in his stance, his voice. Something really bad is lurking there, in his past, in his family, and he’s not ready to tell me about it.
I slip my hand up his back, rub it in circles, and try for something light. “I have a brother. We don’t get along so well. I’m into literature, and he’s an idiot.”
Jet sighs, but his mouth twists just a little.
“My mom thinks I fart rainbows,” I go on, encouraged, “and that it’s cool to ask me for advice on her sex life with my dad. My dad thinks I’m a magical virgin. Neither of them know I’m a unicorn in disguise.”
“A unicorn.” He turns toward me, grinning now, his arms sliding around my waist. “I thought I was the one with the magical horn here.”
I give him that, because of that happy, sexy grin that’s melting my panties as we speak. “Okay, you can be the unicorn. Which makes me…”
“…a girl?”
Suddenly his gaze is so dark I lose myself in it. “A girl,” I repeat dazed. One hundred percent girl, one hundred percent aroused and wanting.
His hands travel up my body to hold my cheeks, and his mouth brushes mine, scorching hot. “Come home with me,” he whispers.
“And Joel?”
“He finishes work later today and won’t be home. Do you want him to be? Want him to join us?” He licks at my mouth and my legs tremble. My thoughts unravel. The heat shooting straight to my core brings a moan to my lips, and I do my best to swallow it. “Say yes.”