Page 81 of Don’t Go Stealing My Heart

She might fall apart from his words alone, but she pushed him away. “You can’t kiss me and talk dirty when you’re dressed like that.”

Like Elvis Presley. He wore a bedazzled powder-blue jumpsuit with huge lapels, the front V-neck dipping mid-chest. Full tribute-artist mode. She’d never have thought she had an Elvis kink. She was too turned on to stand still. “Seriously. You need to leave or I’ll maul you and you’ll be late and lose to Alistair, and I won’t get to gloat and toss popcorn at him like I planned.”

In character, he winked at her and snarled his lip. “Just ‘cuz you asked so nice, doll. But don’t miss my performance. I’ve got a surprise for you after.”

She eyed the bulge in his tight pants. “Can I put this surprise in my mouth?”

He groaned. “You could, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

The sneak had definitely done something for her, and it wasn’t cool. “If you bought me a gift, Jack, I reserve the right to turn it down.”

“Not possible when you promised to quit judging how I spend my money.”

She knew she’d live to regret that promise. “It better not be over the top.”

He grinned wider. “I owe you. You’re the reason David Industries will have a big announcement to make.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Nonsense. I wouldn’t have solved the lens problem without you in my life. The team is thrilled. All systems are go, and that new patent means we’ll weather any storm Gunther’s stolen technology sparks. David Industries will grow. The factory and town will thrive. You’re my muse.”

She shrugged off the compliment, but felt tingly and warm. Any success was all Jack’s. He was clever and creative and would have solved his lens problem in time. Just like she was responsible for the one-eighty her life had taken. Jack had been a catalyst, but she’d been the one to pull the trigger, like his brilliant brain had done all the heavy lifting.

They were good for each other. The best.

She followed him to the door. “How soon until you can announce?”

“Still a few days, if not more. Dad’s being extra cautious, refuses to tell the board about his illness yet, but the pressure’s off.” A few locks of his dark hair hung over his forehead, crossing the crease settling on his brow. The pressure was off, but his father wouldn’t watch Jack perform.

“I can video tomorrow’s final show for him,” she offered. “I know it’s not the same, but we can watch it on that massive TV, or Chloe can do her impression of you doing your Elvis impression.”

He fought a laugh. “I don’t do impressions. I’m a tribute—”

“Artist,” she finished. “I know, and you’re the best. And I’m not just saying that. When you perform, I get swept away. The audience does, too. You’re magic on stage. I can’t imagine how proud your father is. How proud your grandfather would be. You’re just…” Perfect. Amazing. The best man she’d ever known.

She clamped her mouth shut before she blurted out her heart.

Jack stared at her so intently, goosebumps cascaded down her spine. He closed the gap between them and pressed her against his sparkly suit. He was so solid and warm, made her feel small and feminine. She had never expected to meet a man who could light her up like this, make her world feel bountiful, the ground beneath her firm and fertile.

Emotion flared in his eyes as he leaned down. “I love you, Clementine.”

The room spun. Her hands shook as an unexpected ache lanced through her. Had her heart actually exploded? Except she hadn’t exploded. She was frozen, so epically stiff he probably thought she didn’t feel the same.

But she did. She so did. Why couldn’t she say the stupid words?

He kissed her before she could reply or cry or pass out. She lost herself against his lips. I love you so much, she thought. I love you to the moon and back.

Jack pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. “Don’t say it. Not because I did. Say it when you’re ready, when it gets too hard to keep it in.”

It was too hard. Painfully so. Those words had been teasing her tongue with their sweetness for days, but saying them was scarier than picking a lock and stealing a priceless painting.

He gave her another meaningful look, Elvis persona in place, then swaggered to his car. She barely moved. She watched his Tesla disappear down the long road, unease growing. She fiddled with her necklace as regret swamped her. She should have said it back. She wanted to reverse time and breathe the words into his mouth, fill his lungs and chest with them. She hadn’t reinvented herself to become a coward.

Her phone buzzed and she snatched it, hoping it was him. A chance to right her wrong and pull up her big-girl panties. The sight of a message from Ray’s Auto Body only upped her anxiety. Get a grip, girl. If this job didn’t work out, there’d be another. But there wouldn’t be another Jack. She’d tell him how she felt first thing after his show, jump into his arms and confess her love. For now she didn’t want to be alone while learning her job news.

She returned to the shelter and sat cross-legged, facing Ella. “If I didn’t get it, it’s no big deal, right?”

Ella stared blandly. Clementine nodded, fortified.