Needing more of her, Jack took hold of the hem of her tank top and tugged it upward. Em scrambled to sit up halfway to help, taking over and pulling the thing off, her full breasts bouncing with the movement.
“Holy fucking Christ,” he muttered hoarsely as she laid back on the couch, waiting for him, her chest rising and falling with anticipation. Her beautiful face was soft with need.
She was perfect.
She was so fucking perfect, it was a wonder she was real.
His hands itched to reach out and cup her, to fondle and squeeze, to hold her to his mouth so he could taste and suck. But his reason was returning. Slowly, through the haze of desire, he was remembering why they couldn’t do this.
Then Em sat up, reaching for the waistband of his jogging pants, her hand dipping inside before he could stop her, brushing his dick.
Jack bit out a curse and grabbed her hand, holding it away from him.
She winced and he released her, realizing he was holding on too tight.
Emery blinked at him, confused. “Jack?”
Pushing off her, swallowing hard, trying to ignore the pain between his legs, Jack reached for the blanket she had thrown over the coach and he held it to her.
This time when she blushed, he felt like hell.
Her gaze lowered in humiliation as she used the blanket to cover herself.
“I’m sorry.” He stood, turning away from her, afraid if he kept looking, he’d just say fuck it and take what he wanted. “This can’t happen. Ian would use you against me.”
“What if we kept it a secret?” She sounded hopeful.
Jack squeezed his eyes shut. His voice was gruff when he finally replied, “We can’t.”
He already suspected Ian was keeping tabs on all his sons. If he found out about Emery, he’d find a way to screw with her. And even if he didn’t, what kind of life could they have? She’d finally found friends in Jessica and Bailey and Dahlia. She was part of Cooper’s inner circle, and she was flourishing there.
If she chose Jack over them, she’d lose all that. And she’d have to stand by his side while he did shady shit for his father and just accept that she was with a guy people couldn’t stand to be around.
He wasn’t worth her losing everything she’d taken so long to build.
“Can’t or won’t?”
She’d asked him something similar before.
Forcing himself to turn, he found her flushed and disheveled and half-naked beneath the blanket, and even though he’d gotten her hot only to stop again, Em still looked at him like he was something more than he was.
“Some might say flirting with the town’s shy bookstore owner whenever it strikes your fancy makes you kind of a dick.”
It was time to end this. For good. For her sake.
“I’m attracted to you, Em. You obviously know that.” He flicked a hand impatiently at her. “But I don’t want you … permanently.” He choked out. “I’m not that guy. And I might be an asshole, but I’m not enough of an asshole to screw around with the feelings of a good woman.”
Understanding dawned on her face and she clutched the blanket tighter. When she spoke, she surprised and crushed him with her honesty. “I don’t know if that’s the truth or if you’re just hell-bent on self-destruction for the rest of your life. Either way, the constant humiliation has grown tedious.” Her words were clipped. Cold. So unlike her. “I’ll preface this by saying that your secret is still safe with me. But now I’d like you to leave, Jack. And I would appreciate it if you stayed the hell away from me. For good.”
Shards of pain splintered through his chest.
It took him a moment to recover from the initial agony.
But finally, he gave the woman he was pretty damn certain he was in love with a tight nod and strode out of her house.
Out of her life.
On the silent promise that it was for good.
14
Emery
Three months ago
Main Street was abuzz with anticipation and excitement for Winter Carnival.
And for once I was there and didn’t feel at all uncomfortable. It was true what they said: Life was kind of like riding a bike. It was alien and weird and tricky at first, but once you got the hang of it, it started to feel natural.
I stood at Dahlia’s stall, manned by Bailey. Vaughn was at her side, and I was at Jess’s, Cooper at hers. We were waiting on Dahlia’s arrival so she could take over from Bailey. It didn’t surprise me Dahlia was running late. She’d been flustered ever since she returned from a trip home to Boston and her ex-boyfriend Michael Sullivan followed her back.
Michael, a.k.a. Detective Sullivan, was working for our new Criminal Investigation Department under Sheriff Jeff King. Interestingly, Dahlia used to date Jeff, and everyone knew she broke up with him and he hadn’t been happy about it. I would’ve thought an interesting love triangle might unfold—until I had drinks with my friends.