Black Jack (Advantage Play #5) - Kelsie Rae Page 0,11
next level, I’m definitely learning a lot about my future husband. He likes to be in control. Like me. But he isn’t demanding, and he sure as hell isn’t selfish.
He pulls away, and I catch my breath before a light laugh escapes me. My lipstick has made a mess of him.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
“You uh,” I use my forefinger to point at his face. “You got a little somethin’ there.”
“Thanks for telling me this time,” he mutters, brushing his thumb against his mouth before doing the same to mine. My heart picks up its pace as he drags his calloused digit across the side of my lip as that same, unselfish behavior rises to the surface.
Who are you, Jacky Boy?
Once he’s finished, he drops his hand to his side. “There ya go.”
I bite my lip to keep from thanking him. He’s sporting a black T-shirt and jeans that hang low on his hips. Definitely sexier than the orange jumpsuit, but I’m not about to point it out to him.
Flipping my hair behind my shoulder, I suggest, “Let’s get going, shall we?”
I get behind the steering wheel without waiting for his response while Jack follows and slides into the passenger seat. Without a word, I back out of the parking space then rev the engine and send us flying toward the freeway.
Jack scrambles for the oh-shit handle as the speedometer hits ninety miles per hour. “Got a lead foot, Bianca?”
“I thought I was baby,” I quip, batting my lashes at him before returning my attention to the road.
He snorts. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“Meh. At least I know you can kiss now. I was starting to think you were an innocent little virgin boy.”
“And what gave you that impression?”
“Our first meeting,” I answer with a coy smile. “So what sparked the welcome kiss?”
He frowns. “My boss found out we’re engaged.”
“So?”
“I was hoping to keep it on the down low.”
I roll my eyes and hit the gas a little harder. “Gee, thanks.”
“He also mentioned your relationship with Dominic,” he adds, ignoring my sarcasm. “Seemed like he was fishing for information in regards to the case as well as how genuine our relationship is.”
“Ah, so you kissed the shit out of me in hopes of proving to him that you’re hot for me?” I bat my lashes at him, but the bastard ignores me.
“He wants an invitation to the wedding.”
“Well, he’s going to be sorely disappointed because we’re eloping.”
“We can’t elope.”
“Yes, we can––”
“No, we can’t,” he reiterates. The muscles in his jaw flex before he explains, “Not when a very high up officer in the FBI is questioning the validity of our marriage.”
“Not my problem, is it?” I quip, weaving in and out of traffic like a seasoned pro.
“What the hell does that mean?”
Annoyed, I spell it out for him. “It means that it’s not my problem whether or not your precious little boss believes you.”
“Then what is your problem, Bianca?” Jack spits. Apparently, I’ve pushed him over the edge.
“I don’t have a problem.”
“Bullshit. Look, if we’re going to make this marriage work––”
I laugh. And it’s loud. And obnoxious. And obviously grates on my fiancé’s nerves since I can feel him glaring at the side of my face. But he doesn’t say anything. He stays quiet. Waiting for me to explain my outburst. But I don’t need to. Because it isn’t my job to make dear ol’ Jacky Boy happy.
Well, unless he wants to pay by the hour, anyway.
Reaching for the volume on the stereo system, I turn it up a few notches before Jack grabs my wrist and forces my hand back to the steering wheel. Then he turns down the sound of Demi Lovato singing what’s wrong with being confident?, and asks, “Did you know your brother was searching for a spouse for you?”
I purse my lips but don’t answer him.
“Did you?”
“My brother has been looking”––I raise my hands and do air quotes around the word––“for a spouse for me for years. It’s another one of the joys of being raised in the mob.”
“Then I assume you knew marriage to a stranger was a possibility.”
“Of course, I knew that.”
“Then why are you so against it? No offense, but this shitshow was kind of thrown on me, and––”
“Boo hoo. Cry me a river.”
“What the hell is your problem?” he repeats. “If you knew you were going to have an arranged marriage, why are you throwing a fit right now?”
“Maybe it’s because I assumed I’d be marrying someone from the mob. Ever think