Not Quite Dating

Jack had dimples and smiling, genuine eyes. Brad’s were dull and less than convincing.

Jack would have been on time. Brad was late.

Jack considered what she wanted and wouldn’t have ordered for her the way Brad had.

Jack asked her about her life, got to know her through long talks and not a continual drilling of questions that made her feel as if she was on the stand in a court of law.

More than any of that, Jack would never have said or pulled what Brad had tried once they’d finished their meal.

Jack was too much of a gentleman, too nice a guy. He respected her wishes even if he didn’t believe in them.

The man of the hour stepped closer to her, took his finger, and lifted her chin so they looked at each other. “We are friends, Jessie.”

“Really, Jack. That’s what we are…friends?”

“Of course.”

“Just friends. Are you saying that if I took my clothes off right now and offered myself to you, you wouldn’t take me up on it?”

The words first widened Jack’s eyes. A hot current of need flashed on his face; the effect shot molten heat straight to her core. Then those sparkling gray eyes narrowed. “I’m not a saint, Jessie, and you know how I feel about you.” His husky voiced confirmed what his expression had already said.

“Friends don’t sleep with friends.” Her words were weak.

“Say the word, and I’ll turn this friendship into a relationship faster than a rattlesnake can strike his prey.” He would, she knew he would. The fire in his gaze said more than any of his words could.

“To what end, Jack?” Jessie pulled away from him, felt tears sting her eyes. “What is wrong with me? There has to be more out there than dreaming fantasies in cowboy boots and lawyers who peg me as a quick roll because I wait tables and have a kid.”

Jack grasped her arm and swung her around to face him. His face grew stone cold. All fire and heat forgotten.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her go.

“Did he hurt you, Jessie? By God, he’d better not—”

“No. My pride. My ego. But not me physically.” Why couldn’t she find a combination of man that had it together financially like Brad but had all the qualities of Jack?

A sob escaped her throat and Jessie dropped her forehead on Jack’s chest. The comfort of him, his heat, helped a few tears run down her cheeks.

Jack brought his other hand around her and pulled her closer.

She wanted to cry, a big sob session with tissues and blotchy eyes. Brad had dominated their meal, talked about his work, his worth, then asked her if she wanted to go home with him for a few hours and “finish up their date.”

She was stunned by the proposition, didn’t quite know how to act afterward. Jessie told him she didn’t work that way. Brad appeared offended. His mountain-sized ego had escaped her until that moment. He couldn’t believe she was blowing him off. There wasn’t even interest to go on a second date with the guy, let alone sleep with him.

With as much dignity as she could muster, Jessie estimated the cost of her meal, tossed a few bills on the table, and walked out of the restaurant. When her car died halfway home, she screamed and pitched a hissy fit, dash-hitting and all. Truth was the walk home, in heels, probably helped burn off some of her anger.

Then to find Jack sitting on her couch, Danny curled in his lap, brought a whole new wave of emotions over her.

Jack was so…Jack.

Here she was, sobbing in his arms. Arms she had no business enjoying.

Jessie lifted her head from his white shirt and saw the mascara stain on his shoulder. “I’m a mess. Look what I did to your shirt.”

Jack brought both hands to her face and forced her eyes to his. “It’s just a shirt.”

She realized that it was a dress shirt and that Jack wasn’t wearing his normal jeans and hat. Had Monica called him off a date?

She wanted to ask but didn’t really want to know.

Using his thumb, Jack wiped away her tears. “You want me to beat this Brad guy up?”

She laughed, despite herself. “He’s a lawyer.”

“Probably a sissy in a fight.”

“He’ll press charges and have the last laugh.” The testosterone kick of Jack’s words sure was nice to hear. “Thanks for the offer.”

Jack’s grin slowly faded as he stood there holding her. His eyes roamed her face; his thumbs went from wiping away her tears to stroking the outline of her bottom lip. It was as if he were memorizing her. Taking in every detail, every line, and committing it to memory.

Jessie found herself studying him. Gray eyes held silver flecks that sparkled from time to time. Running a finger along his jaw, she noticed the bristles of a five o’clock shadow. He was clean shaven most of the time, but his jaw took on a more rugged appeal when he was like this. She liked it. The hard edge of Jack that made him want to stand up for her and kick Brad’s butt.

Her eyes focused on Jack’s soft lips, next to his bristled chin.

Kissable lips. She wanted those lips against hers in the worst way.

Jessie trembled in his arms and pulled her lower lip between her teeth.

A questioning expression spread over his face, his hands tightened, and she swayed forward and placed her lips to his. There was no slow boil, no simmering steam. They went from hot to hotter instantly. Jack tilted his head and deepened their kiss. Fingers in his hair, Jessie enjoyed the silky feel of it, of him.