Kissing Jenna (Big Sky 2)

“Grace and I are good friends, yes,” she says with a nod. “And I know that she’s a fan of yours.”

“But you didn’t call her.”

“Christian.” She takes a deep breath. “Like I said, it’s not my place. If you told me it was okay, I would probably tell her, but I wouldn’t volunteer the information.

“My brother is Max Hull. You may not know him—”

“The software genius?”

She nods.

“The one who sold his company to Google for like fifteen billion dollars?”

“I think it was just one billion,” she says with a laugh. “But, yeah, that’s the one. He isn’t famous in the same way you are, but he has his challenges with it, too. And I am fiercely protective of him. I protect all of my clients in the same way. You’re my client. And maybe my friend, but we’ll see.”

“I like you,” I admit and then narrow my eyes. “Trust isn’t easy.”

“Not for most of us,” she says with a shrug. “So, you don’t have to join me today. You can tell me to go mind my own business, and you won’t see me again until it’s time to check out of here.”

“I like you,” I repeat, surprised to find that it’s completely true. What I don’t say is that I’m so fucking attracted to her, it may not be a good idea to hang out together because I want to bend her over this counter, and I’m only here for a month.

But along with that, I enjoy her company. Her quick wit.

And she’s not an asshole.

“Let me get dressed, and I’ll go with you.”

“Yeah, don’t wear the towel,” she says, rubbing her chin as if she’s thinking it over. “Famous or not, you’d draw a lot of attention, and I forgot to take a security class to keep the women off of you.”

I smirk and shake my head, walking to the stairs.

“You’re a smartass, Jenna.”

“You’re welcome.”

***

Cunningham Falls is tiny. For a guy who grew up in L.A., it’s the size of a postage stamp. But it’s also quaint and quite beautiful.

“We have a few stoplights,” Jenna says as she drives us into the heart of downtown. “Main Street is a whole three blocks long, so don’t blink or you’ll miss it.”

She winks at me, and I want to reach over and tuck her hair behind her ear. So, I do. She glances over at me in surprise and keeps talking.

“We also have amazing restaurants and fun shops. We are definitely a resort town, but I don’t think it’s cheesy.”

“It doesn’t look cheesy.”

“Believe it or not, winter is my least favorite season,” she says as she parks her SUV in front of Drips & Sips and cuts the engine, then turns to me. “I don’t enjoy winter activities as much as I do summer. Construction is difficult in the winter, so much of my business slows down on that front. And, it tends to be long for us here because we sit in a valley so we’re socked in a lot. By February, I’m longing for sunshine.

“But I can’t deny that it’s beautiful, especially before Christmas.”

“You should be a tour guide for a living,” I reply, and she laughs.

“I do know a lot about this town. If you ever have a hankering to know which houses are haunted, and who owns what, I’m your girl.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

We climb out of her vehicle and walk into the coffee shop, and I immediately sweep the area, taking in the number of people, and how many of them look up to see us walk in.

There are two whose eyes light up when they see me, and I know they recognize me, but to my relief, no one makes any moves to rush over to us.

Jenna leads me to the counter where she orders a decaf mocha, and I order a chai tea latte. When our order is ready, we find a table in the back of the shop and sit, shedding our coats.

I sit with my back to the room.

Jenna smiles and takes a sip of her drink.

“Do you drink coffee all day?” I ask.

“Only until about two, and I cut off the caffeine at noon.” She shrugs. “I know it’s not great for me, but it’s my one vice. I don’t drink much, just when I’m with my girlfriends. I don’t spend a million hours on social media. I work, and I drink coffee.”

“That’s it? No hobbies?”

“I do like to travel now and again,” she says, then glances down and smiles at her coffee. “Oh, they made a snowflake in the foam.”

She pulls her phone out and takes a picture, and I tense up. Her gaze whips up to mine.

“I just took a photo of the coffee.”

“I know.”

“I won’t take your photo unless you say it’s okay,” she adds and slips her phone back into her pocket. “You’ve been screwed before, Christian.”