Busted (Promise Harbor Wedding) - By Sydney Somers Page 0,44
politics.
Her warm smile slipped back into place. Although she was dressed for a day at the office instead of waiting tables, she waved for them to go ahead. “You two sit and I’ll take care of it, Jackson.”
He didn’t wait for one of the women to be the first to walk away. He tugged Hayley along behind him, keeping a grip on her hand even after she dropped into the booth across from him.
“Guess I need to work on your mom.”
Hayley rolled her eyes. “Great, then I’ll be stuck trying to explain why I couldn’t hold on to you either.” She blew out a breath, finally taking notice of his hand still holding hers. She shifted in her seat. “Sorry about that.”
“You shouldn’t be. I’m not.” He had much bigger problems in life if kissing Hayley was something either of them needed to apologize for.
She arched a brow, not trusting him.
“You’re right.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “That’s a lie. I’m sorry you weren’t kissing me and naked at the same time.”
She smiled again, not the same knock-him-on-his-ass smile as earlier, but he could work with it. “Like we haven’t given everyone something to talk about already.”
Jackson shrugged, lacing their fingers together when she would have tugged her hand back. “Eric is still watching.” An exaggeration, but the feel of her hand in his was too good to give up just yet. “Thought you didn’t want to keep up the whole pretense of us being in a relationship.”
“Relationship? Try dating.”
“Dating doesn’t seem serious enough if you’re making out with me in public.”
Amused eyes met his. “We were not making out.”
“You’re right.” He glanced over her shoulder long enough to make her think he was watching Eric, then crooked his finger.
Curious, she leaned forward, close enough it was too damn easy to meet her halfway to claim another kiss.
While he appreciated the slow and soft approach earlier, he wanted too much of her to take his time. Cradling her cheek against his palm, he pulled them both headlong into a wild kiss.
She didn’t resist, surprising him when she sighed against his lips, then playfully nipped with her teeth. The second her tongue swept across his, all slick and teasing, he groaned softly, gripping her hand tighter. He wanted to touch so much more of her, but hauling her across the table and into his lap wouldn’t happen with half the surrounding crowd pretending they weren’t watching.
Jackson couldn’t care less who was watching. Hayley was there. Bold, unpredictable and maybe-just-a-little-crazy Hayley, and he was half drunk on the taste of her. All the blood in his body had traveled south, the evidence making him almost painfully hard, and Christ, what he wouldn’t give to feel her fingers close around him.
Something hit the table, and Jackson broke the kiss, looking up into Mrs. Stone’s disapproving face. She set their drinks on the table.
Sensing that Hayley’s mom was two seconds from crossing her arms and waiting until he was back on his side of the table, Jackson released his hold on Hayley, moving faster than a horny seventeen-year-old diving out of a girl’s bedroom window after midnight.
“Thanks, Mom.” Hayley took a sip of her drink, her eyes laughing at him.
He nodded his thanks, wondering where his balls had disappeared to in the presence of Hayley’s mother.
Once Mrs. Stone vanished into the kitchen, he grinned at Hayley. “Now we’ve made out.”
“You’re impossible.”
He winked at her. “I have a new proposition for you.”
Leaning forward, she looked ready to hang on to every word. “I can’t wait to hear the new angle you’ve come up with to blackmail me.”
He started to rise. “I can get Eric if you’d rather listen to him.”
She grabbed his arm, though they both knew he had no intention of going anywhere. “Sit. Down.”
Jackson relaxed back in the booth, one arm stretched across the back of the bench seat.
“I’m listening,” she prompted, not all that happy about it.
If he didn’t enjoy pushing her buttons so much, he’d kiss her again. “You need help. I need something to keep my hands busy.”
“As much as I appreciate how eager you are to volunteer your bra removal services, I’m not interested.”
“I’m talking about the renovations on your gramps’s house.”
“Oh.” She didn’t glance away despite the flicker of pink on her cheeks.
He set his hands on the table. “Believe it or not, these are good for more than shooting a puck or picking a fight on the ice.”