Jump Start (Texas Hotzone 1)

Narrowing her gaze, she studied him, her hands resting on his chest. “Talk is cheap,” she said meaningfully. “Action counts. Sex without any strings. Take it or leave it.”

His hand slid over her hip, and Jennifer felt the caress on every inch of her body. “What happened to not being my two-week fling?” he challenged.

Jennifer knew the answer all too well. In fact, she’d replayed this scene a hundred times over. “I decided to make you my two-week fling.” And with that confession, she would have led him into the house, but suddenly a gasp went through the crowd.

“Where’s the maid of honor?!” came a male voice. The cop, Jennifer realized. Or dancer. He wasn’t a cop. Again he called out, “The bride wants the maid of honor. Where’s Jennifer?”

“Oh, no,” Jennifer said, turning to the crowd as they turned to her. Bobby released her, but stayed close. Instinct set Jennifer on edge just before her nerves proved merited. The male dancer appeared at the edge of the dance floor, facing Jennifer and Bobby, wearing nothing but an itty-bitty G-string.

“Are you the maid of honor?” he demanded, fixing Jennifer in a stare.

“Yes,” the crowd replied. “That’s her!”

“You’ll need to report to the dance floor,” he demanded. “Bride’s orders.”

“No way,” Jennifer said. “No way!”

“I’m here to please the bride,” the dancer assured her. “If you don’t come willingly, I’ll have to take you by force.”

“Oh, hell no,” Bobby grumbled at the same moment her fight-or-flight instinct sent Jennifer into flight. Which went horribly. Jennifer tripped over her own feet and reached out to catch herself. Her hands plodded, with a splash, into two large bowls of chocolate mousse. She screamed on impact.

Bobby’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her toward him seconds before her face would have landed in the ranch dip. Her hands came out of the chocolate sauce, dripping, messy. She gasped as Bobby picked her up and started carrying her toward the house, cradling her like a baby. A good thing since she didn’t dare hold on, awkwardly dangling her hands in the air. She glanced at them and then up at Bobby, at the strong, determined set of his jaw. He laughed, a deep, playful sound that resonated through her, turning her all warm and wanting when she should be indignant. And she was.

“Don’t you dare laugh!” she declared, as he maneuvered them past the sliding glass door and headed to the kitchen.

“I can’t help myself,” he said, walking into the forest-green-and-black-tiled kitchen.

“You can help yourself.”

“Sweetheart,” he said, “if you dip yourself in chocolate when I’m around, you have two options. I laugh. Or I lick it off.” He set her down in front of the sink, facing him. His voice lowered, his gaze intense, as he raised one of her fingers to his mouth and nibbled. “Or both.”

Her breath lodged in her throat, and she coughed once, twice. Getting her man and her chocolate sauce hadn’t gone exactly as planned. But she wasn’t about to complain, not when he was leaning forward about to kiss her.

6

JENNIFER’S ANNOUNCEMENT that she planned to make him her two-week fling, to dismiss him with sex, pissed Bobby off in all kinds of ways. But it also worked in his favor. Because he knew what she would soon find out. Sex was the erotic, emotional path they would travel to get to a locked door on their past.

Bobby stared down at Jennifer. The only thing keeping him from setting her up on the counter, stepping between her legs, and then kissing her until there was no tomorrow, was the chocolate all over her hands.

Oh, hell. Who cared about a mess? They’d shower later—together. He reached for Jennifer, right when a giant clump of chocolate dropped onto his boot. Jennifer glanced down. Bobby did, as well. Their gazes lifted and collided as they both smiled.

“Hmm, sorry,” she said. “I should probably clean up before I make matters worse.”

His lips twitched. “As appealing as I find licking chocolate off you,” he agreed, “I do prefer a more strategic placement.”

Jennifer smiled. He loved her smile. All Texas sunrise and honey. She blew hair from her eyes and rotated to face the sink. He turned it on for her and she agreed, “Definitely nothing strategic about falling in the party food while being chased by a cop, who’s really a lap dancer, and who isn’t even supposed to be here.”

“Marcie and Mark don’t seem to care,” Bobby said, cleaning off his boot, his gaze sliding over Jennifer’s lush, heart-shaped backside. Tension waved through his body, sexual, hot. Ravishing. Like he wanted to ravish her.

“Marcie isn’t happy,” Jen assured him. “Otherwise, she wouldn’t have sent that dancer to drag me to hell with her.” She turned off the water and grabbed a towel.

“Marcie knew I’d never let that dancer anywhere near you,” he said, as he stepped behind her, framing her petite curves with his body, and pressing his hands on the sink beside her. She drew a surprised breath and then grabbed the counter. “Just as I never should have allowed anyone else near you in the first place. I missed you, Jen.” He buried his face in the silky strands of her long blond hair, erotic memories of having it sprayed across his chest shaking him to the core. There was more than want in him for Jennifer. There was need.