Текст книги "Middle of Knight"

Автор книги: Jewel E. Ann

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Chapter Fifteen

A chilly burst of air breezed past Jackson when he opened the back door to their townhouse. The smell of burnt popcorn hung like fog as he pulled his T-shirt up to cover his nose. Every window in the place was open to its max. It felt like an arctic gust whipping through their house.

Jillian sat perched on the counter, legs criss-crossed, with a heavy red hoodie shielding her from the temperature that read fifty-five degrees on the thermostat. She poked around her bowl of popcorn, tossing five black kernels in the sink for every one brown piece she deemed edible.

He needed some guy friends. Stat. The women in his life were hell-bent on testing his last bit of patience.

“Want some?” Jillian looked up from the bowl.

“What do you think?”

She shrugged. “Damn bag got away from me. I set it to five minutes, but I go by the time between pops and—”

“I don’t care.” He grabbed a beer from the refrigerator.

Sliding her fingernail between her teeth to free a hull, she watched him guzzle the contents all at once. After tossing it in the recycle bin, he fetched another one.

“Someone’s grumpy. I am too, but you go first.”

Catching his breath after the marathon beer chug, he glared at her. “New rule. If I leave my phone behind you don’t answer it. And if you ever discuss my testicles with someone again, I will make your life a living hell. Got it?”

Wrinkling her nose, she lifted her shoulders. “Sorry. I was just trying to help. I take it, it didn’t go so well?”

Finishing his second bottle, he tossed it then rested his hands on his hips. “Let’s see … after I called her bluff on the devious little ruse you plotted, things went good … really good. Then they went not so good, then really good again … then bad … really, really bad.”

Dumping the remaining charred pieces of popcorn into the trash, she brushed off her hands. “Lucky for you, I have the patience to deal with your code talk. The first good?”

“She asked to see my tattoos. All of them.”

“Sex?” Jillian perked up.

“Not even close.”

“You completely stripped for her and it didn’t end in sex?” Jillian’s jaw dropped. “Has that ever happened to you before?”

“Never.”

“ED?”

“Fuck you.”

She chuckled. “The not so good?”

“She laughed. Apparently it brought back some childhood memory for her.”

“That’s odd. So what was the really good again?”

He smirked. “She got all insecure on me, comparing other women I’ve been with to the ocean and herself to a pond. I told her I prefer ponds. There was some kissing that felt like it was going somewhere then …”

“Then?”

“Then she laughed again, really hard.”

“Why?”

“Because of something I said. God!” He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and shook his head. “I know better than to chat it up, but she’s different, so I thought I needed to say something. Something romantic. Something profound.”

“Aaand?”

With a grimace, he looked at Jillian. “I asked her to … let me swim in her pond.”

Sister dearest bit back her laughter and just nodded, but tears welled in her eyes. “Well … I’m not sure how romantic or profound it was.” She snorted a little laugh that had to escape. “But, you could have said worse things. You could have asked to dock your vessel in her canal. That is … if you wanted to stay with the nautical theme of the evening.”

Another snort of laughter.

“Downstairs. It’s cold as fuck in here and I need to warm up. Kicking your ass should light a nice fire in my belly.”

“Wait.” The laughter evaporated and what she had to say dissolved her smile. “I need to show you something.” Retrieving her phone from the pocket of her hoodie, she held it up.

Colossians 3:5-6

Jackson read it then inspected the phone. “This is your new phone?”

A nod.

He Googled it because he wasn’t sure of the exact verses, but he knew it had something to do with sin.

“Mortify therefore your members which upon the earth; fornication, uncleanness, inordinate affection, evil concupiscence, and covetousness, which is idolatry.

For which things’ sake the wrath of God cometh on the children of disobedience:”

Jillian snatched her phone back. “You and your King James Version.” She did her own Google search. “Put to death therefore what is earthly to you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. On account of these the wrath of God is coming.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” Jackson grabbed her phone away.

“Maybe … maybe we should go in.”

Jackson’s focus shifted from the phone to his sister. “Go in?”

“Back to G.A.I.L until this gets figured out. Or maybe we should request a new location, new identities. Omaha isn’t exactly some small town. Obviously our identities have been compromised. Now we’re just being taunted.”

“First, we are not being taunted. You are. Second, why were you not suggesting relocation and all this after the first two messages? Could it have had anything to do with you having a reason to stay? But now AJ’s gone so you want to just up and leave?”

“I’m just saying … it’s a new phone and I’m still getting these cryptic messages.”

“Who have you given your new number to?”

Jillian shrugged. “I don’t know … AJ, Dodge and Lilith, Cage, a few people with Lascivio, mowing man Bill.”

“AJ—”

“Oh for the love of Pete! Stop it. AJ. Loves. Me. He’s not stalking me. Why would he move back to Portland? Isn’t it a little hard to stalk someone from halfway across the country?”

“Then it’s Lilith. She lied to you about being deaf. I’m sure she’s lying to you about keeping your past a secret. I should have removed her. Listening to your womanly intuition about her was a big mistake. It’s clear after today that all women are fucking head cases.”

Jillian gave her customary eye roll. “You’re so delusional. I think your case of blue balls has affected your brain.”

He tossed her phone to her. “I’m not leaving. Now I have a reason to stay.”

“You’re staying for a woman who can’t stop laughing at you long enough to have sex with you?”

Someone begged for a beating. “If I wanted to have sex with her … we would have sex.” He held his scowl even though what he’d just said registered a second too late. Of course Jillian didn’t waste a single moment before jumping all over it.

“So … even today, when you were standing in front of her naked, you didn’t really want to have sex with her?”

“That’s not how I meant it. I don’t want just sex with her. I want more. The more is getting in the way. It’s turned sex into a delicate situation.”

“It’s turned you into a pussy.”

“Fu—”

“I know … fuck me. But seriously. She’s forty. I bet she’s dying to have a shit load of meaningless sex with a hot guy while her hips can still thrust without fracturing. You’re trying to court her. You know what happens in those old movies where the well-mannered, high-society guy tries to be a gentleman and court the lady?”

Jackson rolled his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head.

“The sweaty stable boy with bulging muscles, ripped pants, and old leather boots swoops in and fucks her like a wild animal in the tall grass near the river. And that’s who she ends up with at the end of the story, because no matter what women say about chivalry … they don’t really want a guy who’s going to spread a blanket out under a tree and feed them grapes and cheese cubes. They want a guy who’s going to spread their legs, bury his face, and feed himself without first asking permission to ‘swim in her pond.’”

“Damn…” he exhaled a heavy breath “…I’ve lost my sex mojo.”

*

Crickets chirping.

The pitter patter of the pond fountain.

The occasional popping of a motorcycle on the main road.

The windows were closed, yet Jackson heard every little sound as red numbers on his digital night clock flicked to midnight.

Two beers and clumsy sparring with Jillian should have slam dunked his brain into a deep coma. It didn’t. All he could think about was Ryn. She didn’t wear an anorexic body or grin like a clown from Botox. Her breasts were real and they didn’t stand out. If he looked closely, a few fine lines around her eyes were visible. He hadn’t seen her stretch marks or her scar from childbirth, but she confessed it. They didn’t meet at a bar and fuck in the bathroom or alley … most of his conquests never even made it to his car, let alone his house.

Truth? What he’d done with women in the past could hardly be considered dating. It was more fucking about. Two people using bodies for pleasure. There were never emotions, at least not for him. Any girl pathetic enough to mistake a quick fuck for something more, especially when names were rarely exchanged, had bigger issues than Jackson.

What makes a man so callus, so immune to emotions, so obsessed with instant gratification? A secret. The kind of secret that one person alone has to keep to himself for eternity. The kind of secret that shatters lives, destroys families, and ends in blood.

Jude Day had a secret. A secret that annihilated everything he believed to be true and forever changed his perception of his parents. Jackson Knight needed to believe that secret would remain buried in San Francisco. His entire existence clung to the hope of new beginnings.

The night stretched on, dragging him in and out of restless sleep. He didn’t wait for the sunrise. It never waited for him. Rubbing his face like he could erase the previous day, he lumbered from his bed straight into his running attire. Five miles later, he returned for a shower, Red Bull, and protein drink. The day required an extra boost of … everything.

After a string of agonizing piano lessons with women who were not serious about playing the piano, he texted Ryn, saying he had something to show her. It was the truth, of sorts.

“Jackson?” Greta called before he could shut the car door.

He shut it anyway then rolled down the window.

“You on your way out?” she asked with a labored breath from crossing the street.

He made a mental note to not get old. “Nope. Just keeping Woody company.”

Her brows pulled together.

“Yes.” He chuckled. “I’m on my way out.”

“Oh.” She nodded, maintaining her confused look. “You’re a funny guy.”

“I try. What’s up?”

“I’m having a party at my house next week, and Jillian said you have a lady friend now. Guess you couldn’t wait forever for Marvin to die.” She winked, but it resembled more of an out-of-control eye spasm or an eyelash in her eye. “Here’s an invitation for you to give her. We’d all love to meet her.”

“Oh.” Jackson took the shiny black envelope, inspecting both sides. It looked familiar. “What kind of party is it?”

“Well, a Lascivo party of course.”

“W-what? Are you serious?”

“Yes. After the ValuPak incident, it’s time to show Marvin that I’m not all dry and shriveled up. I’m still a vivacious woman at heart, even if my body is a little slower and not as flexible. Jillian said you’re never too old to nurture your sexuality.”

Jackson rubbed his chin, nose wrinkled a bit. “She did, did she?”

“She sure did. Marvin can ValuPak it all he wants, because after my party I’ll no longer be requiring his services, if you know what I mean.”

He didn’t or at least he sure as hell didn’t want to, but on a sigh he asked the obvious question anyway. “What was the ValuPak incident?”

“Jillian didn’t tell you?”

Head shake.

Making her usual quick scan as if anyone in the hearing-aid community could really hear her, she leaned in closer to the window. “You know that ValuPak envelope of coupons everyone gets in the mail?”

A nod.

“Well, sometimes there are coupons for bras and other feminine things. So last week I stepped out into the garage to get my flyswatter that hangs by the door, and you wanna know what I saw?”

He didn’t. He really didn’t.

“Marvin sitting in a lawn chair by his work bench playing with himself while he had three of the coupons from the ValuPak stuck to the side of the bench with magnets. One was for a bra sale at Penny’s, one was for a thirty-day trial at a fitness studio, and the other was for Hardee’s. Everyone knows the hot women on those commercials don’t really eat that stuff.”

Jackson would not be eating anything for a good long time.

“So…” he held up the envelope “…I’ll give this to Ryn.”

“Ryn! That’s her name. Jillian told me but I forget. I knew it was a songbird, but all I could think of was Robin. Well, toodaloo … tell her I’m giddy with excitement to meet her.” Greta waved as Jackson backed out of the garage.

*

The Nike slogan played on repeat in Jackson’s mind as he made the two right and one left turn that separated the five miles from his house to Ryn’s. The gusty winds that had ripped the amber leaves from the trees earlier in the day had died down. The blinding angle of the setting sun made it difficult to see pedestrians in the crosswalks as the bars and restaurants bulged with the Friday night crowd. Even Ryn’s street had cars lined on both sides, walking distance from the entertainment district.

Just Do It.

The line between psyching himself up and psyching himself out disappeared, leaving him lost in the blurry middle. Before his brain shifted into overdrive, he hopped out and strode toward her door with the confidence of this guy from San Francisco he used to know.

One lock clicked and then another. Even with Gunner, Ryn kept her doors locked at all times.

“Hi.” She smiled with a bit of hesitation. Her look said “are you still mad at me for laughing at your pathetic advances?”

He grinned. The less he said the better.

“Come in. I ran late at my last job so I need to shower. Dinner is in the oven.” She walked toward the kitchen.

The view of her ass shifting slightly side to side in her yoga pants fed his intentions.

Just Do It.

“Smells good. What is it?”

“Lasagna, but it has about thirty minutes, so maybe I should run and take a quick shower.” She slipped off her oven mitts after pulling the foil from the top of the casserole dish.

“No.”

She froze. Only her eyes flitted from one side of the room to the other, trying to solve his mysterious response. “No … what?”

Just. Do. It.

“One question.” He pulled off his shirt, needing all the persuasive ammunition he could get.

Ryn’s eyes widened.

“And it’s a yes or no answer.” He stepped closer, backing her into the refrigerator. “Do you want me?”

“I-I need a shower.”

He shook his head, inching closer yet. “Try again.”

“I’ve been cleaning houses—”

Another head shake that silenced her. She. Was. His. Once a woman responded to his non-verbal commands, it was equivalent to folding in a poker game.

“Yes … or no?” he whispered in her ear.

Backed into a hard surface with no place to go, breathless, and stumbling for words … that’s what he knew. There was only one word he needed.

“Say it.”

“I probably smell like—”

“Say. It.”

Sliding his hands along the outside of her T-shirt, he stopped and kneaded her breasts with a firm pressure that made her hiss.

“I’m too—”

“Say it!” he growled, pinching her nipples so hard she jumped.

“Yes!” she yelled. “Yes, I want you to fuck me!’

Stilling his hands, he raised his face from her neck and just stared at her for a moment. Her breaths came so fast she could hardly catch them. Ryn looked shocked as if she, too, couldn’t believe those words came from her mouth. He didn’t say it, but he sure did think it: Holy shit! Jillian was right. Ryn wants me to fuck her like the stable boy.

If he didn’t snap out of it, she could change her mind. They both could overthink everything.

Just Do It.

Chapter Sixteen

The oven heated to 375 degrees. Ryn did too. Tomato, oregano, and basil filled the air. A bag of Romaine lettuce waited by the sink to be cleaned and chopped into a salad. The cracked window welcomed the soothing yet dramatic tones of the Japanese wind chime on her back deck, dancing in the breeze. There was the compression bra issue again, but his magic touch managed to draw them out of hiding. The dirt and grime from a long day of cleaning clung to her body, and the shivering fear of everything left her trembling. If she’d had a tail it would have been between her legs.

The problem? He turned her on. Her thoughts couldn’t stop her body from feeling so reckless. Resisting was far more painful—impossible—than submitting.

“My boobs look like pancakes and I’m not well groomed in certain places.” The words were out. It was as much a relief as an embarrassment. The truth felt like a baby in the womb: innocent and destined to come out.

Jackson smirked and she pressed her lips together, hiding her grin. She loved the invisible string between his smile and hers and how they played off each other.

“This is going to be fun … so much fun.”

“Sex?”

“Making it my mission to show you how sexy you are.” He kissed her before she had a chance to argue. Each stroke of his tongue controlling and demanding as his hands curled around the waist of her yoga pants.

She tugged the button and zipper to his jeans. He pulled away, leaving her mouth begging for more as he peeled down her pants until she stepped out of them. The flush of her cheeks intensified at the realization that her panties could not have been any less sexy. They looked like hand-me-downs from her grandma. It had been a busy week and the laundry fell behind. Before he could make a good inspection, she slid them down and wadded them in her hand.

He grinned, looking down at the bunched nude cotton she fisted. When his eyes shifted to hers, she maintained a neutral look as if to say, “There’s nothing to see here.” There was no way to hide the fact that she removed her underwear in one quick, desperate move. It had been far from graceful or indiscrete. Jackson just stood there waiting for her to do something with them.

Leaning toward him, eyes locked to his, she reached behind her and cracked open the refrigerator door just enough to toss her panties inside before leaning back against it like it never happened. She made a mental note to burn all her undergarments and replace them with rigid underwires and ass-floss panties.

“I need you to hurry up.” She grimaced, locking her knees to keep her legs from shaking. “I’m naked from the waist down and completely coming apart inside.”

Their mouths crashed. He didn’t give her another chance to speak or even form a coherent thought. Moisture pooled between her legs until she felt it drip like lava down her thigh. Her legs pressed together in mortification.

He slid two fingers between her wet folds, stopping her motion. She moaned while he pressed his body firm to hers, as if he wanted to feel her sounds vibrate between them. The only thing sexier than him—which was basically everything that could possibly be sexy—was his physical desire for her.

He. Wanted. Her.

It took a moment in the heat of distraction for that to sink into her brain. When it did, all dignity evaporated and she widened her stance. Yes, she widened her stance. It may not have seemed like much to him, but for her it represented a brazen move. It said, “I need as much of you as I can possibly fit inside me, NOW!”

Three. Three fingers fit nice and snug. His tongue made languid strokes up her neck with his teeth teasing her skin. When his hand stopped moving, she raised onto her toes and lowered back down. For a fleeting moment she felt embarrassed by the desperateness of riding his hand, but when his palm grazed her sensitive clitoris it no longer mattered. As long as he didn’t stop kissing her, touching, needing her.

“Oh … God …” Her eyes rolled back in her head. An orgasm approached the precipice. “Wait!”

As he pulled his hand away, her eyes flew open. Did she dare tell him she hadn’t finished? Half the blood in her body had converged between her legs, like water against a damn. A painful case of pink balls.

Pulling a condom out of his pocket, he grinned. The words teetered on the tip of her tongue. Jackson Knight embodied a godly specimen. However, she’d never reached an orgasm from penetration. That confident grin said he’d be the first, but Ryn had her doubts.

Her teeth made a death grip to her lower lip as he pushed his jeans and briefs down. Steadying herself with one hand on his bare chest, her other hand rested over her heart. She didn’t feel it there until he rolled on the condom and shifted his eyes to her.

His signature take-charge demeanor paused for a moment. He peeled her hand from her chest, inching it towards his face. She looked up as he pressed his lips against her palm, closing his eyes for an eternal second that stopped the progression of time … and her heart.

When he opened his eyes, she felt the pull of a black hole sucking her into something so unknown it sent chills racing along her skin. He guided both of her hands to his neck then slid his beneath her butt and lifted her up. Within a breath he impaled himself inside her … all the way.

She gripped his thick, dark hair and screamed into his neck, muffling her string of curse words. He paused, but only until she silenced long enough to draw in a quick breath. Then he reared back and plunged in again.

Another cry.

Again and again, he repeated the slow rhythm until her cries morphed into moans. Then he picked up the pace—really picked up the pace. Her back threatened to break against the refrigerator door as glass on the inside rattled along with the ceramic jars on top.

After a few minutes the most unexpected thing happened. That abandoned orgasm? It came back to life, building to a mind-numbing intensity with each thrust.

“Harder!” That came from the woman who possessed Ryn’s body because she had never said that during sex, even when that’s what she wanted.

Jackson’s mouth found hers again, and every inch of his body brought unexpected pleasure to hers. The pain in her back vanished as all feeling gathered in one single spot. The spot he’d angled his pelvis to hit every. Single. Time.

“Yes … yes, there … there … there!” she yelled through a never-ending orgasm, the first with a man inside her.

The drain of energy made it hard not to collapse until he finished. They raced in tandem and she just wanted to stop peddling. Instead she held him tight, contracting all her muscles until he groaned on a final thrust, stilling for a few seconds before his body completely relaxed against hers, keeping her pinned to the refrigerator.

His sultry breaths blanketed the skin along her neck in ragged succession. If he’d wanted to stay inside her forever, that would have been fine by her. Once he completely shattered her vagina, which happened in the first three thrusts, they fit together quite nicely.

Jackson lifted his head just enough to move it from her shoulder to her forehead. Rolling it slightly side to side against hers, he grinned. “I’m out of practice.”

That made front page news because if what just happened was a result of him being out of practice, then she was in trouble. Epically huge trouble.

“Can you stand?” He kept his forehead against hers.

She nodded as he kissed her softly on the lips and eased her to her feet. Being fucked against the refrigerator left no room for modesty, but she still crossed her legs and rested her hands over her exposed area as he removed the condom and pulled up his pants.

He grinned, nodding behind him. “I’m going to run to the restroom while you see if your panties have cooled down. Okay, hot pants?”

Rolling her lips between her teeth and closing her eyes, she nodded. When the door to the bathroom clicked shut, she whipped around and retrieved her panties from the refrigerator. She stepped into them and yanked on her yoga pants at lightning speed. The sex and panty retrieval warranted a hand washing before she proceeded to prepare the salad. Gunner sat by the back door looking at her.

“What?” She shrugged, daring him to make her feel guilty. The dog possessed an eerily accurate perception.

“Can I do anything to help?”

“You could open that bottle of wine.” Playing he-didn’t-just-fuck-her-brains-out-against-the-refrigerator cool required effort, but she did her best.

He poured them each a glass. “You’re quirky … I like you.”

She laughed, keeping her head bowed, eyes trained to the cutting board. “Really? I think the fact that you asked to ‘swim in my pond’ and then your response after what just happened is to tell me that I’m ‘quirky’ makes you the quirky one.”

“You could be right. I think introverted people can be quirky.”

“You are not introverted.” She slid on the oven mitts and pulled the lasagna out of the oven.

“I am, actually.”

“Both you and Jillian have made reference to your habits with women before you moved here.”

He carried their wine glasses to the table. “I’ve always spent a lot of time on the computer or playing the piano, only recently did I start teaching lessons. Most of my social interaction over the years has been via the internet or quick lays.”

“Quick lays? Wow … that’s …”

“Honest. I told you I’m not good at sugarcoating.” He smirked. “Well, actually I’m pretty good with the women in my neighborhood.”

Ryn dished out lasagna and salad for both of them then sat across from him. “The quirkiness you’re referring to is just my nerves around you. I’m not really an introvert. At least, not by nature. I was very outgoing in my day.”

Shaking his head, he blotted his mouth with a napkin. “Don’t say ‘in my day.’ It makes you sound eighty.”

“Fine, pre-Preston I was outgoing. So basically as a teenager. I was in the drama club and got the role as Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. I worked at a daycare part-time after school and on the weekends, and I was an ambassador for Students Against Drunk Driving.”

“SADD, huh? For personal reasons or just because it’s a good cause?”

Ryn stared at her plate for a minute before shifting her eyes to him. “My older brother was killed by a seventeen-year-old girl who chose to get behind the wheel.”

“Ryn, I’m—”

She shook her head. “I don’t talk about it much. The driver was my best friend’s sister. We were thirteen when it happened, my brother was fifteen. He rode his bike home from a Friday night baseball game. We lived just two miles from the school. I was at their house that night. Her parents got a call from the hospital. She wasn’t injured it was more of a panic attack. Just as they were getting ready to pull out of the driveway to head to the hospital, my parents pulled in to get me because the sheriff had already delivered the news of my brother. In a matter of seconds everyone made the connection.”

“Jesus …”

“Yeah. I haven’t spoken to Heather since that night. We saw each other at school and she wrote me a few letters, but it was just too much.” She gave him a sad smile. “I’ve never gone to my class reunions in fear that she’d be there. Isn’t that ridiculous? I know … I’ve always known it wasn’t her fault, her sister’s the one who killed him, but it just hurts to be around her.”

Jackson moved his leg so it touched hers—intimate and kind.

“I’m sure she knows you don’t blame her.”

She nodded. “Anyway …” taking a deep breath then releasing it, she tried to smile “…sorry for the detour from my point, which is I’m not a born introvert so you cannot label me as quirky. Especially since I’m not the one who wears taped glasses. Which by the way I notice you don’t wear them all the time. Are you farsighted?”

Jackson looked down at his plate as he stabbed his fork into the lettuce. “Something like that.”

“I never asked. When you called, what did you want to show me?”

*

The self-professed introvert who occasionally wore glamour glasses, stared at the woman trying to hide her desolate expression. The subtleties in her appearance drew his attention: the way her hair looked messy and sexy at the same time and the way her brows peaked when she gave him a wide-eyed look every time she asked him a question. The tragic story still suffocated the air. Her question evaporated what little oxygen remained in the room. Was she not paying attention to the event that took place against her refrigerator?

That voice in his head, the one that guarded his testicles, yelled, “Man-up or maybe give her a little reminder of what you came to show her.” Sometimes it felt impossible to rehabilitate from the man he used to be. Perhaps a man who never entertained the company of a woman beyond sex could not be rehabilitated or domesticated.

“I washed Woody.” But he tried anyway.

“Oh …”

“Woody is my car.” Jillian would have been laughing her ass off.

Ryn nodded. “Well, I’ll have to take a look at Woody.”

Planting his elbows on the table, he dropped his head into his hands. “Jesus … why is this so hard?” He lifted his head. “I didn’t wash my car. That…” he gestured to the refrigerator “…that’s what I came over to show you.”

The unfamiliarity of giving a damn about what a woman thought, left him blind to the truth. Falling for her didn’t happen all at once. It took him without warning—an unsuspecting culmination of a hundred tiny things. In that moment it was the way her smile grew in minuscule increments until her whole face beamed with sheer happiness.

“I liked that. A lot.” She blushed but never took her eyes from his. “In fact, I’m okay with you coming over anytime to show me that.”

The same woman twice. That would be a first—a good first.

“Oh, here I have something for you.” Leaning to one side, he grabbed the black envelope from his back pocket and handed it to her.

“Black huh? This must be my belated birthday card.” She opened it.

“Shit. Your birthday. Well … no that’s not it. I brought flowers, remember? And then dinner—”

With a slight head shake, she tracked the words on the invitation. “You want me to buy sex toys?”

“What? No.”

Tilting her head, she pursed her lips. “That’s fine. You’re right. I probably could use some practice.”

“God … no, that’s … it’s … my neighbor invited you because she wants to meet you. Lascivio is the company Jillian works for.”

“Oh, okay.”

“So you’ll go?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“You don’t have to buy anything.”

“I’m not going to show up and then not buy anything. I’ll get something.”

“Like what?”

Ryn smirked. “I don’t know. Do you have any suggestions?”

He raised a single brow. “Maybe a candle?”

Gathering their plates, she took them to the sink. “I’m not going to just buy a candle at a Lascivo party.”

Jackson carried the rest of the dishes over to her. The fact that she gave careful consideration to purchasing sex toys confirmed he’d been off his game earlier.