Dirty Work - Regina Kyle Page 0,65

lets out a very un-Ferris-like growl into the microphone. Connor chuckles and throws an arm around my shoulders, making Jake growl even louder. “Let’s get you on that float before my best friend threatens to kick my ass. As if he could.”

“Hold on to that one, honey,” Marsha tells me, and her friend nods in agreement. “Any man who’s willing to risk public humiliation in the name of true love is a keeper.”

“Thanks,” I toss over my shoulder as Connor steers me toward the trailer. “I will.”

Word of my identify must have spread because the crowd gives us a clear path from the sidewalk to the street. When we reach the float, Connor gives me a quick squeeze and whispers in my ear.

“He can be a jackass sometimes, but he’s one of the good guys. Take care of him. And if you can get him out of the office and off my back every so often, I’d be eternally grateful.”

“I’ll try.”

I squeeze him back, and he hands me over to Jake, who passes the microphone off to one of the drag queens. Then he bends down, wraps strong fingers around my upper arms, and hauls me up onto the trailer.

“You’re crazy,” I say, echoing Cam’s line to Ferris.

“Yeah,” Jake agrees. “For you.”

He swallows hard, making his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. Now that I’m up close to him, I can see other telltale signs of nervousness. The thin line of sweat at his brow. The clammy hands. The slight twitch in his left eye.

It’s fucking adorable.

I shake my head and smile, a big, dopey grin that makes my cheeks ache. “That line’s not in the movie.”

“I know. Neither is this.” He pulls me closer to him and takes me into his arms. “It’s called artistic license.”

“Well, if we’re going off script...”

I grab the collar of his vest and yank his mouth down to mine. I pour everything into this kiss. Passion. Promise. Loyalty.

Love.

After a moment of stunned inaction, Jake’s an active participant, his hands tangling in my hair, his lips parting, his head tilting to deepen the kiss.

Roscoe howls. The crowd whoops and hollers. The drag queens do some sort of celebratory dance behind us. But it all fades into the background as we kiss like there’s no one watching. Like we don’t have a whole host of cell phones trained on us, ready to share on social media with just a few clicks so even more people can watch us later.

So much for my aversion to PDA.

“Hey,” Jake says when we finally come up for air. “This is supposed to be my mea culpa. I’m the one who messed up. You were right. Top Shelf can live without Miami. But I can’t live without you. You make me a better man. One who’s not afraid to channel his inner Ferris and stop and look around once in a while.”

I burrow my nose into the crook of his neck, letting his sweaty, soapy scent permeate every cell of my body. God, I’ve missed his smell. “Your inner Ferris, huh?”

“Yeah. I’m through letting life pass me by. I want to live it to the fullest. With you. I want us to go to drag queen diners and decorate for penis parties and play strip Scrabble and have wild, wall-banging sex and slow, soft, sweet sex as much as you want for however long you’ll have me.” He cups my face, one thumb tracing tender circles on my cheek. “I love you, Ainsley.”

My heart’s beating so fast I swear it’s going to burst free from my rib cage. “I love you, too. And we both messed up.”

I’ll explain about Dale later. My ex is the last thing I want to think about right now. I want to get back to the good stuff.

The kissing.

I go for his vest, my greedy hands eager to drag him back down to me. He takes them in his, holding me off.

“We’ll probably mess up again,” he says. “At least I will.”

“I’m sure I will, too. But we’ll work through it. Meet each other halfway. Make sure the seesaw doesn’t tip too much one way or the other.”

His brows furrow. “Seesaw?”

“I’ll explain later.” I loop his hands around my neck and lean into him, enjoying the way his hard body feels against my softer one. “Now I need you to kiss me.”

He does. This time it’s less frantic, less hurried. This kiss is a leisurely dance, a slow exploration. His lips are everywhere, trailing soft, teasing