Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 85484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I laugh, relief washing through me. It’s as if a bomb has been defused, and it’s just my friends and me again.
“Thank you for jumping in like that,” I tell Jess. “How did you know what was going on?”
He folds his hands on the table. His fingers are thick, his wrists wide. The veins in his forearms are roped, and if you could sell pictures of forearm porn, his would be worth a fortune.
“Your back was to me, but Kerissa caught my eye,” he says, nodding a thank you to her. “I really didn’t like the way he was looking at you, so I came to … you know, say hello.”
My heart skips a beat.
“I heard him call you a liar and say something about there being no ex-husband …” Jess shrugs. “I just made it clear that he better back the fuck off and then took your lead.”
“You had perfect timing because it was about to turn ugly.”
He grins. “For the record, I didn’t come to your rescue. I’m sure you could’ve handled it like the boss you are. But I couldn’t stand by and watch someone bother my ex-wife like that. What kind of ex-husband would I be?”
I burst out laughing, the sound releasing whatever tension remains in my body.
Kerissa pushes away from the table. “I’m going to let you two chat and go mingle with the people.”
“If you see Moss, will you let him know I’m up here?” Jess asks.
Kerissa grins. “Will do.”
Jess watches her leave. Once she disappears down the stairs, he faces me again.
My lord, those eyes.
“I kind of just grabbed hold of you around the waist, and I apologize if that was not cool,” he says. “I should’ve probably—”
“Hey, it was fine. Honest. I’m … glad that you did it.”
He grins. “Okay. Good. It was instinct, I guess, but that doesn’t make it right.”
“Look, that conversation was heading in a bad direction. There’s a chance that I would’ve leaped into your arms and kissed you to prove a point if you hadn’t wrapped your arm around me.”
His eyes go wide.
“So thank you for saving me from apologizing to you.”
“Is there any way I can ask for a redo?”
I laugh again. This time, he laughs too.
“What was that all about?” he asks. “Why the weird need for an ex-husband? I’m confused.”
“It’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
When people say that, they’re usually being polite. They’ve already gotten themselves into a conversation and don’t want to look like a jerk and say—Oh, cool. Thanks for saving me the explanation because I don’t care. But Jess doesn’t move or flinch, nor does he seem to notice or be distracted by the people buzzing around the patio.
He’s focused on me. Like he really does have time. Like he really wants to know.
“So I got a promotion today at work,” I say, smiling.
“Hey, congratulations. That’s great.”
“Thanks.” I smile. “But in the middle of the chaos of it, I might’ve told my coworkers that I’ve been married before, and Chuck might not believe me. Chuck might also want my head on a stick and is hell-bent on outing my little white lie to our boss.”
Jess balks, not expecting that explanation. “Well, that took a turn.”
“I just blurted it out because I let him get to me and now, I’m stuck in this story that I can’t get out of.” I frown. “Thanks for playing along. It helped buy me some time to think about how to fix this.”
“Oh yeah. That was terrible. You should thank me after the trauma of having to hold you and pretend we’ve done all these nasty things to one another. The horror.”
I try not to grin.
“You know how you could really thank me?” he asks.
“How?”
“We could recreate some of the best times of our marriage—ouch!” he says, chuckling as I smack his arm. “I’m just saying it would be nice to have a memory of my first wedding night.”
I shake my head and grab my glass. The margarita is nearly gone, and I wonder where it went. Did I drink all of that?
“Jess, you couldn’t handle me, buddy,” I say, fueled by the tequila and a shot of adrenaline.
“I assure you, Miss Plum, that I would give you all you want and then some.”
Now that it’s just the two of us and my fight-or-flight response has eased, the weight in my lower stomach is obvious. The heat in my core. The pulse between my legs.
I should nip this in the bud. I should laugh it off and change the subject to something less flirty, a topic that’s more neutral. But my mind is blank when I search for things to bring up that don’t lead to some type of sexual innuendo, so I give in.
Screw it. The day has gone to hell in a handbasket anyway.
“I believe you seriously underestimate me,” I breathe, leaning toward him.