All Jacked Up (Rough Riders 8)

Nervous, because this felt like an actual date, she flipped through the menu even when she’d memorized it ages ago. “What are you having?”

“Chicken fried steak.”

“Sounds good. Been a while since I’ve had it.”

“Careful, we’re actually agreeing on something.”

“Maybe it’s a full moon.”

His answering bad boy grin had her heart doing the two-step.

After the waitress took their order, Jack stared at her with unabashed interest. “What?” she said testily.

“I don’t even know when your birthday is.”

“It’s not like you’ll be around to shower me with expensive presents.”

“We need to know some of that stuff about each other before the engagement party.”

True. Especially in light of suspicions all wasn’t right with said engagement. “May twenty-third. I’m twenty-seven. You?”

“April fourth. I’m thirty-four.”

“You’re an old timer, eh?”

A slight scowl. “I’d say experienced.”

“So, Mr. Experienced, what other secrets do we need to share?”

“Start with the basic first date stuff. What’s your favorite food?”

“Steak. Followed closely by bacon. Followed closely by chocolate.” She picked up a straw and rolled it between her fingers. “I’ll bet I can guess yours.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yes, I will.”

There was that wicked grin again. “I dare you to try.”

Keely considered him. “This is way too easy, Jack.”

“So stun me with your insight, cowgirl.”

“Poached salmon. Wild rice pilaf. Brussel sprouts. Plain cheesecake.”

A stricken look crossed his face.

She smirked. “I totally nailed you didn’t I?”

Jack angled across the table. “Not. Even. Close. But I am intrigued by the thought of you nailing me.”

Oh. Hello lust. “The thought of nailing you has me equally intrigued.” She offered him a coquettish look. “Are you a breast or a thigh guy?”

That caught him off guard enough his gaze actually dropped to her chest. “Ummm. What?”

“Or chicken?” she taunted softly.

His hot eyes returned to hers. “My favorite food is not chicken. It’s not a nice juicy rump…roast, although I admit to being more of a butt man than a breast man.”

Keely blinked. She was quickly losing control of this conversation.

“I’ll give you one more chance to nail me,” Jack said with a sexy rasp.

“Only one?” she cooed back.

Jack’s hungry gaze zeroed in on her mouth. “Playing fast and loose will only encourage me to play the same. Be certain you’re prepared for what that entails.”

Yikes. “Speaking of favorite foods, I’m betting yours is some kind of wild game that fits with your personality. Boar?”

His lips lifted. “Wrong. This round goes to me. My favorite food is homemade meatloaf. Followed closely by mashed potatoes and gravy. Followed closely by corn on the cob.”

“Holy crap. That’s so…Midwestern of you, GQ.”

“Surprised?”

“Very.” Down home cooking appealed to Jack more than haute cuisine? Man. He’d surprised her like four times today. “Your turn to guess. What’s my favorite movie?”

“Easy. The Princess Bride.” He grinned. “What’s mine?”

“The Jerk,” she shot back.

Jack laughed. A deep, rumbly, sexy sound and she caught herself wanting to smile and sigh at the same time.

“Try again.”

“Jackass?” she tossed out.

More laughter.

“Okay. I give.”

“True Lies, ” he said.

“That seems appropriate.”

Silence.

Keely fiddled with the straw, rolling it back and forth in the condensation.

Jack snatched her hand, stopping the fidgety movement.

Talk about big hands. Not soft, girly hands either, but rough. Manly. His fingers were long and thick, sprinkled with just enough dark hair to be masculine, not apelike. God. It’d been forever since she’d had a real man’s hands stroking her bare skin. Would Jack be gentle? Teasing? Or forceful?

“Keely?”

She shifted her gaze up. The curiosity or guilt he saw in her eyes caused a spark of heat to flare in his.

Jack stretched across the table until their mouths were a kiss apart. “We’re f**king kidding ourselves that we can keep this platonic for much longer.”

The growly timbre of his voice destroyed any smartass comment she might’ve conjured. She wanted to hear that growling noise against her throat, in her ear, on her belly, on the insides of her thighs.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she breathed.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to—”

“Isn’t this sweet, you two lovebirds holding hands and whispering naughty nothings to each other.”

Keely looked up at India with murder in her eyes.

Jack recovered quickly. “India. Nice to see you looking so…round. Congratulations.”

“Oh, bite me, Donohue. Babies rock but pregnancy sucks.” India cocked her hip against the side of the booth. “Since you’re gonna be part of the family now, I expect my rent won’t go up. Ever. Especially in light of the fact you withheld the information about being our landlord.”

Jack muttered something about false expectations.

Now this was better. Watching Jack get raked over the coals for a change.

“How are the engagement party preparations going?”

Talk about a short attention span. “Mom is doing everything. Jack’s mother is coming Friday to help.

We’re staying out of the way.”

“So how is it that you guys ended up together?” India asked.

Keely changed the subject. “You feeling okay?”

“Fine and f**king dandy. Fat as a frog. You’ve gotten worse at deflection, by the way, so suck it up and answer my question.”

“Pregnancy has made you mean.”

“Meaner. Start talking about how this love match came about.”

“We’re blaming you and Colt.”

Jack went board stiff across from her.

“What did we have to do with it?” India demanded.

“Your wedding reception was the first time Jack and I acted on our attraction to each other, wasn’t it, darlin’?”