Page 77 of Don’t Go Stealing My Heart

He was full on smirking now, his dimples winking at her. “As bad as the first day we met?”

“So much worse.”

His current road sign would read: Beware of sexy idiot, life-changing words like love ahead. Could a person even fall in love this quickly? Or was this intensity her inexperience? The overwhelming feelings of basking in all things Jack, the first man to know her name and age and that she hated bacon? She gave her head a small shake and focused on what was real. What she wanted right now. “I recall you saying something about fucking me on this counter.”

“I did, didn’t I? I’m also rethinking my breakfast. There’s something else I’d like to eat.”

They forgot about fruit and yogurt. They forgot about the world as they dropped their clothes and Jack dropped to his knees. He spread her legs and turned her boneless in minutes, his skilled tongue and hands shredding her sense. Then he was in her, his hips unrelenting. He took charge again, telling her where and how to move, his end game always her. Her pleasure. Her release. Like her satisfaction was his foreplay.

* * *

Clementine floated through the rest of her morning until they were in Jack’s car, holding hands as he drove her to pick up her Prius.

“Move in with me,” he said abruptly, dropping the atomic bomb, like it was an ordinary conversation on any ordinary day.

The man had lost his marbles. “Did you hit your head during sex?”

“I did not.”

“Did you hold your breath too long when doing that thing with your tongue and now you’ve lost a few too many brain cells?”

Eyes on the road, he grinned a devilish grin. “You liked that thing?”

“It’s my new favorite thing.”

“Noted.” His phone chimed with a message. He ignored it and signaled a turn, humming while he drove. “So you’ll move in?”

“That would be insane.”

He yanked his car to the side of the road and parked. Someone honked and waved. Smallest town in the world.

Jack crowded her. “Insane is how badly I want to be inside you right now—again—but I have to work, then rehearse, then perform, then maybe work some more. If you’re not sleeping in my bed, I’m not sure when I’ll see you. And I need to see you.”

To reassure himself he’d made the right decision? Her insecurity resurfaced, and she mentally chastised herself. Their night and morning had been amazing. Because of their talk or in spite of it, she couldn’t say. Either way, each round between the sheets and in the kitchen had gotten better, more intimate. She’d be crazy to say no.

“Okay, but I’ll—”

He kissed her before she could demand to pay her way. Whatever. She’d check out the surrounding mechanic shops, get a job and contribute where she could. Use her small savings to buy groceries and such. In a few weeks, she’d return to New York, pick up Lucy and organize her belongings, then drive her hard-and-fast Charger back to Whichway.

Another honk and wave. Her cheeks heated. “Does the whole town know about us already?”

“Guaranteed.” His phone buzzed again. He ignored it.

“It’s like living in a fishbowl.”

“Does it bother you?”

It would have terrified the old Clementine. Now… “I kind of love it.” And you, she didn’t say, those three words still hovering.

The next honk blasted for a couple of seconds, followed by Imelda’s head hanging out the car’s passenger window. “Check your phone, Jack! Marco and Lauralee have two girls!”

Jack froze, then fumbled for his phone. He smiled as he read the message, his brightening glow seeping into Clementine. “Two perfect girls,” he murmured and showed her the photo.

She only wanted to look at Jack. Watching him swoon over baby pictures was a sight to behold.

He typed a message back, then returned to the road, but his mood dimmed as he drove, a gradual despondence she didn’t understand. They’d had a great night. His best friend had just had twins. He’d been ecstatic a second ago. She fiddled with her precious necklace.

He stopped at her car and rubbed his jaw. “Key,” he said distractedly. “I’ll give you mine and grab an extra from Marvin.”