Читать книгу Can't Help Falling In Love - Wendy Etherington - Страница 15

“YOU GOT A little business goin’ on the side, chère?” Jack grinned like the scoundrel Skyler had no doubt he was. “Don’t bother me. A little shadiness develops character. My grand-père sure didn’t get through Prohibition by sellin’ Coca-Cola.”

Skyler planted her hands on her hips. “There is absolutely nothing shady about my business.”

He winked. “Right.”

She crossed to the front door, eyeing the new “alarm” with disgust. She’d only been half paying attention as she installed the blasted thing the night before, since she’d been focused on listening to the emergency scanner to keep tabs on her brothers’ calls. “If you have to know the story behind my shop, the town council wouldn’t give me a business license for lingerie, so I decided to expand my inventory. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Jack slid off the counter, then he walked toward her. “But I’m thinkin’ you didn’t tell the council you were…expandin’ your inventory.”

Determined to avoid the laughing challenge in his whiskey-colored eyes, Skyler ignored his insinuation and experimentally opened the door. Ding-dong sang the chimes. She sighed in disgust.

Jack leaned down and laid his finger beneath her chin, lifting her face. “Does the council know about your little back room?”

She bit her lip. “No.”

“Who does know?”

“Other than me and my customers, you mean?”

“Other than them.”

He really did have the most lovely, expressive eyes. Being a big, macho fireman, he probably wouldn’t appreciate that comment, though, so she kept the thought to herself. If she pouted and batted her eyes, as she’d seen Monica do a million times to get a man’s attention, would he forget all this shop business and kiss her?

“Skyler…” he prompted in a low, determined tone.

“Well, uh, let me think.” She pretended to ponder the question. Just how would he use the information he now possessed? He was a hero, so he was honorable. Hadn’t he protected her at the bar? There was no reason to think he’d betray her now. Finally, she said, “You.”

“Me, what?”

“Other than me and my customers, you’re the only person who knows about the back room. In fact, you and Roland are the only men who know.”

A look of startled wonder crossed his face, quickly there, then gone. “Why Roland?”

She grinned, thinking of the black mask, cape and leather thong underwear she’d ordered recently for Roland. He liked to play Zorro. “He’s a customer,” she said simply.

“Why no one else?” he asked.

He meant her family. Monica had asked the same thing many times. But then Monica was bold and sometimes even controversial. Skyler liked peace. “They’d try to talk me out of it, or—”

“Accidentally blabber about it to the town council.”

She also really liked not having to spell out everything to him. Deadbeat Boyfriend #1 had really been slow on the uptake. “Exactly.”

“I’ll keep your secret,” he said, shrugging.

With great effort, Skyler found the presence to close her mouth. A shrug of those massive shoulders, then I’ll keep your secret. Simple as that. No dire warnings. No predictions of trouble. No questions about her profit or debt or sales projections.

He was definitely a man. But he was an exotic new species in her world.

“…expanded inventory?”

Skyler jerked herself from her musings, realizing Jack had asked her a question. “What?”

“Am I that distracting, chère?”

She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Of course not.”

His gaze danced, but he didn’t call her on the lie. “What would the council do if they found out about your expanded inventory?”

She tried for nonchalance, but was pretty sure she didn’t quite pull it off. “Probably revoke my business license.”

“Imagine. ’Tite ange Skyler, the leader of a town conspiracy.”

She fidgeted. “I’m not…exactly.”

“Don’ be embarrassed, chère. You having a wild side intrigues the hell out of me. It makes me more interested.” He stroked the back of his hand down her cheek. “More attracted.”

Gulp. This not dating dangerous men rule wasn’t looking like such a hot idea. But it wasn’t just her libido or her heart she was worried about. Jack’s career was possibly on the line. Baxter was the perfect opportunity. At least until Atlanta came calling.

Rules were made to be broken, chère. She could practically hear the words glide off Jack’s tongue. The question was—how badly did she want Jack’s tongue gliding over other places? She leaned toward him, drawn to his energy, even drawn to the danger he represented. What her brothers didn’t know…

His gaze swept down her body, heating her intimately. “All this sure explains those skimpy purple undies.”

Skyler’s face flamed. “What undies?”

“Yours.”

“When did you—” She stopped, suddenly remembering Fluffy’s rescue from the tree while Jack gazed up at her. She gasped. “You, you…I can’t believe you looked! You’re a city employee, a civil servant, a—”

“I’m a man.”

Skyler didn’t know whether to be ticked, flattered or embarrassed. She settled for all three. “Jack Tesson, you and I are gonna go a few rounds if you continue—”

He tapped the end of her nose, distracting her. “Call me by my full name.”

“Why would I—”

“Just do it. Please.”

She heaved a sigh. “What is it?”

“Jackson Phillipe.”

Having no idea why she was humoring the man, but needing to make her point about his bad boy behavior, Skyler went on. “Jackson Phillipe Tesson, you and I are gonna go a few rounds if you continue in this inappropriate habit of doing and saying forward things to proper, Southern-bred ladies.”

He slid his hand around the back of her neck, pulled her forward, then kissed her hard on the lips.

Mouth tingling, she stared at him. “What did you do that for?”

He grinned. “You reminded me so much of my grand-mère, I had to kiss you.”

She knew she’d sounded a bit maternal, but… “Your grandmother?”

“She always tried to make speeches about proper behavior, too.”

“Tried?”

“Without much success—obviously.” His eyes danced. “Now for the reason I came by.”

Distracted, she’d completely forgotten to question what he was doing in her shop in the middle of the day. She absolutely could not think straight in the man’s presence.

“The other night at the bar was completely my fault.” He stroked the delicate skin beneath her eye, regret obvious in his tone. “I can’t believe you were hurt because of something I did.”

She shook her head. Her impulsiveness and desperation to keep her secret had led to the trouble.

“Oui. I should have protected you.”

Again, it occurred to her that this whole hero thing might not be so bad.

“So, I want to make it up to you. How ’bout dinner Friday night?”

A refusal was on the tip of her tongue, but something held her back. She’d always been happy to let her brothers protect her from dangerous men like Jack, but now she suddenly didn’t want to play it safe. No doubt this urge was the result of her daring and impulsive Kimball genes.

She also recalled her recent conversation with Casey—aka Frat Boy—who’d told her he broke the record in ducking her brothers because Jack had let him hide out at his apartment. Her heart fluttered at the thought.

One date. What could it hurt?

She looked up, meeting his gaze. “Sure.”

A broad smile broke across his face, but then he eyed her oddly. “What’s the catch?”

The man was definitely quick. She wanted to go out with him, but she wasn’t willing to sacrifice his job in the process. “We can’t tell anyone.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, managing to go from charming to intimidating in that one move. “Come again?”

“I won’t have you losing your job over a simple dinner.”

“Ben is a reasonable man. He wouldn’t fire me.”

Ben could be reasonable. Wes, she wasn’t taking any bets on, and he could certainly make life hard for Jack. Besides, by keeping this date under wraps she could be daring without being reckless.

“I’m not hiding from your family,” Jack said.

“Then I won’t go.”

Looking exasperated, he sighed. “You’re a helluva negotiator, chère.”

“You should see me negotiate prices with Bud.”

“Bud?”

“Proprietor of Bud’s Leather Palace.”

Laughing, he pulled her into his arms. A pretty great place to spend a Tuesday afternoon, in Skyler’s book. “You’re somethin’,” he said quietly. “And you’ve got a deal.”

Her heart thumped hard in her chest.

He looked down at her, brushing her hair back from her face. “But I won’t lie. I’ll agree not to advertise our date in the newspaper, but if one of your brothers asks me directly, I won’t deny it.”

Skyler bit her lip. She didn’t like this contention, but since she only intended for them to have one date—she was attracted to Jack, but she couldn’t really get involved with him. The loss of her father had ruled so many of her actions for so long, she doubted she’d ever change. Adding Jack to her collection of people to obsessively worry over was a really bad idea.

Jack and his dangerous job wouldn’t be hanging around Baxter long anyway. Losing him was inevitable.

But since they were only talking about one date, she figured she could keep her heart safe.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Okay. Covert, but no lying. Anything else?”

He pulled her tighter against him, so she could feel his hardness growing against her stomach. “How about wearing a selection from Bud’s Leather Palace?”

Skyler thought of the black leather jeans with silver rivets down the seams she’d ordered for Fiona. She couldn’t imagine ever having the guts to wear something like that beyond her dressing room, much less in front of Jack.

“I’m kidding,” he said, as if he sensed her unease. “But wear a dress.” He kissed the side of her neck, just below her ear. “And the purple undies.”

She shivered. God, the man knew how to proposition. He was assuming a great deal about the outcome of their dinner, she supposed, but his tendency to push the limits was part of his charm.

“How about a skirt?” she suggested, not about to give him total control over this date, though he seemed to have commandeered—temporarily, of course—her hormones.

“And the undies?”

Smiling, she waggled her finger at him. “My undies, young man, are none of—”

The alarm above the door jangled.

Skyler jumped away from Jack as if she’d just grabbed a hot frying pan.

Mrs. Markenson—a regular customer and cousin to the mayor—sailed through the doorway, her sixteen-year-old daughter trailing in her wake.

Jack, damn him, discretely stroked her side and whispered, “Relax, chère. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Nothing, absolutely nothing about Jackson Phillipe Tesson was safe.

“Good afternoon, Skyler,” Mrs. Markenson said, nodding her perfectly styled and highlighted head of light brown hair. “I need to find something appropriate for the church picnic for Christine.” She pushed her giggling, blushing daughter, whose wide blue gaze was riveted to Jack, forward.

“Absolutely.” Skyler approached her customers. “I have some trendy new styles for teens.”

Mrs. Markenson wrinkled her nose. “Nothing too stylish, I hope.”

Skyler resisted the urge to groan. More girls in living room drapery fabric—just what the world needed. “Of course not.” As they moved toward the back of the store, she took the opportunity to introduce her customers to Jack. The momentary distraction gave her time to wonder what semitrendy top or skirt she had in her back room that would flatter Christine without offending her mother.

“We’re so happy to have you in Baxter,” Mrs. Markenson was saying. “I’m on the council, you know.”

Yes, we know, Skyler echoed. We also know if you found out about the latest shipment of edible underwear, I’d be out on my purple-undie-clad ass.

Jack, of course, was smooth as glass. “I’m honored you show such confidence in me, madame.”

Mrs. Markenson actually blushed at the French form of address.

“We’re planning an exciting Fourth of July celebration,” Jack continued.

Skyler frowned. She’d forgotten about his appointment to the same committee as her. How was that going to work after she told him they could have one and only one date? As Christine giggled beside her, she waved aside this concern for the moment. Happy customers first. Concern for love life second.

After securing Christine and her mother in a large dressing room with several modest, solid-color dresses and a few skirts and tops, she jerked her head toward the door. “You’re distracting my customers,” she said to Jack. “Out you go.”

“Me?” he had the nerve to ask, eyes all innocent.

She shoved his shoulder. “Yes, you. And don’t give me that wicked-but-innocent grin of yours. I have a business to run.” She held open the door. “Out.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her through the opening. “What grin?” he asked before producing the distracting expression.

Good grief but he was sexy. She half considered hopping on that sleek, black motorcycle parked at the curb, driving away with him, where no inhibitions existed, and she could ease the hunger clawing at her body.

Wait a freaking minute. Sleek, black motorcycle?

She groaned. “Don’t tell me—the motorcycle is yours, isn’t it?”

He threw one long leg over the seat. “Course, chère. Wanna ride?”

“No, no—” it does look kind of cool, her libido prodded “—absolutely not,” she said firmly, striding toward him. He looked so perfect, so right, so dangerous sitting astride the bike, she had to suppress a moan of longing. And of course he wanted her to wear a dress. Wouldn’t that be just like a man to satisfy his prurient fantasies by having her straddle him—she had to fight back another moan—with her dress hiked up to her thighs?

“We can’t go out to dinner on that,” she said, her voice high and tight. She hoped she hadn’t offended him, but the clash between sensible and risky was overwhelming her senses to the point of irrationality.

“I’ve got a car, ange. We’ll save the motor for our second date.” He kicked the engine over, and the street beneath Skyler’s feet vibrated. “See you Friday,” he mouthed just before he dropped a black helmet over his head and roared away.

Skyler stomped her foot in frustration. There wasn’t going to be a second date, much less one on that rolling organ donor. As she turned to enter her shop, it occurred to her that she was trying to get a dangerous man to play it safe.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, Sky. That’ll work.”