Enemies to Lovers, page 22
“Are you telling me no, flat out?” he asked, gravel in his voice.
“I’m telling you I need more time to think.” But how long would he wait? When would he decide enough was enough and make the decision for her—by withdrawing his offer?
He surprised her by saying, “All right. Take all the time you need,” before leading her to the car.
* * *
THE STRAWBERRY INN had been transformed into a winter wonderland. West gazed about in amazement. In the center of the spacious dining room were three Christmas trees that formed a triangle. Actual presents spilled between them, and every kid under the age of eighteen would get to pick one. Lush, green holly twined with the lights that had been wrapped around the strawberry-shaped chandeliers Jessie Kay begged West to buy Carol Mathis, the inn’s owner. A thank-you for allowing him to rent the place on such short notice. Faux frost covered the walls and red lace draped the tables and chairs set up in the far corner of the room.
Jessie Kay had far surpassed every party WOH had ever thrown…but it would have been even better if he’d allowed her to rent a mechanical bull.
Next year.
“Great party, son, but you should have brought more whiskey.” Mr. Porter of Swat Team 8—We assassinate fleas, ticks, silverfish, cockroaches, bees, ants, mice and rats—thumped him on the shoulder as he walked past. “Just thought you should know.”
“There’s more. I’ll have a glass—”
“Bottle.”
“Bottle,” he corrected with a smile, “brought to you.”
The entire town had flocked to the inn. Edna, an eccentric grandmother figure, looked like she was having a seizure on the makeshift dance floor. Anthony Rodriguez, the only “stylist” in a twenty-mile radius—though word on the street claimed Trisha Shay-Rivers was using her garage to give perms to the over-fifty crowd—did the electric slide and robot. At the same time.
Laughter abounded among the town’s citizens. WOH customers—gamer geeks and serious businessmen—didn’t yet know what to make of them.
West spotted one of the servers Jessie Kay hired—a waitress from Two Farms—and closed the distance. “I’d like you to personally ensure Mr. Porter’s glass never goes dry. Stay by his side with a bottle of our best whiskey.”
The girl stared up at him as if he was the answer to her prayers.
“Now,” he said.
“Right.” She raced off.
He glanced at the door in back, where the waitstaff came in and out with trays. No sign of Jessie Kay. He’d had to watch different men eye her up and down as if she were an appetizer to be sampled, and he’d had to fight a killing rage. Mine!
But she wasn’t his. Not yet.
So far he’d had to eject seven pricks from the party. All had been Strawberry Valley residents who’d insulted her.
You giving lap dances with those shrimp, Jessie Kay?
You look good in your uniform, but I’d rather see you out of it—again.
Bastards. They’d accidentally run into his fist on their way out.
“Oh, West. You’ve got it bad.” The delighted female voice came from his left. “Worse than I’d realized.”
He tore his attention from the door—Jessie Kay’d had six minutes to restock her tray, plenty of time. Where was she?
“I’m not complaining, mind you,” Brook Lynn added with a smile. “You’re one of the rare few good enough for my big sis.”
He lifted a brow in haughty derision. “A rare few implies there are others you wouldn’t mind seeing her with.”
“You’ve met Daniel, right?”
He rolled his eyes. Daniel was here with his date. A six-foot, stick-thin ice queen.
Dotty Mathis, Carol’s daughter, hadn’t stopped watching the pair since they’d arrived.
West had noticed because he, too, had been watching Daniel. Anytime Jessie Kay neared him, the two made funny faces at each other. Their relationship reminded West of the friendship Jase and Beck had had with Tessa. Teasing, taunting, but with an underlay of mutual respect.
“Daniel is like Jessie Kay’s brother,” he said.
Brook Lynn snorted. “Dane Michaelson is Kenna’s stepbrother, but they still hooked up.”
He looked to Jase, who stood at Brook Lynn’s side, and lifted a brow. “Do me a solid and control your woman.”
Jase spread his arms, the world’s most helpless male. “Don’t you think I’ve tried?”
“He has.” Brook Lynn smoothed her hands over the waist of her dress. A dress Jessie Kay had sewn. She’d been holing up in her bedroom more and more lately to practice creating the most amazing designs anyone has ever seen, ever.
West moved his gaze across the room, spotted Beck and Harlow. Harlow was currently an unflattering shade of green. She clutched her stomach as if someone had pulled the eject cord and she only had moments to prepare herself for an evacuation. Beck draped his arm around her waist and led her forward, pushing his way through the crowd.
“Something’s wrong,” West told the others.
As soon as Beck reached them, he announced, “Surprise! Harlow is pregnant. Now we’re going home. She’s not feeling well.”
“What!” Brook Lynn exploded.
Jase shook his head as if he’d misheard.
West reeled. A baby? A little Beck? I’m going to be an uncle. A smile stretched full and wide and fast…only to fall even faster. Tessa had loved children. She’d once told him she wanted to start trying for a kid as soon as they married, that she wanted two boys and two girls so their kids would always have a friend. She would have loved being an aunt.
Tessa couldn’t live her dreams; during his self-imposed sentence, he shouldn’t live his.
He rubbed at his heart, at the new ache deep, deep inside it. Did Jessie Kay want marriage? A family of her own?
Five years. Just five gut-wrenching years, and he could give her everything she wanted…could take everything he wanted. Her…all of her. Desire for her was a fire in his blood. He’d already realized he craved her more than any other woman…but he realized now he craved her more than he’d ever craved coke.
Her presence alone filled him with a sense of peace. Her smile distracted and delighted him. Her laugh enchanted him. Her wit charmed him.
Where was she? When would she make her decision?
As Jase and Brook Lynn talked excitedly about Baby Becklow—Hark?—West stalked toward the door in back. Along the way, he ran into Dane and Kenna, the two just coming off the dance floor, glowing with love, light and happiness.
“Uh-oh,” Kenna said. “Jessie Kay must be in trouble.”
West frowned. “What makes you think so?”
“You only wear that particular scowl when you’re thinking about her.”
That couldn’t be true. “She’s not in trouble.” Yet. “Have you seen her?”
Dane kissed Kenna’s temple, his lips lingering over her skin. “Last time I saw your firecracker, she was dealing with a situation. Looked like she had everything under control,” he added when West went still.
A situation? “Excuse me.” He picked up the pace. Three other couples got in his way, but he barreled onward, eye on the prize. A server hurried past the door, her features drawn and pale, and West slipped inside the room.
“—ruin this party,” Jessie Kay was saying.
The kitchen had white walls papered with strawberries, a long pink-and-white marble countertop and top-of-the-line appliances. Apparently business had picked up substantially for the few months Harlow had worked here, allowing Carol to make long-needed updates.
Between the stove and fridge he found Jessie Kay—alive and well—and he was finally able to breathe. Then he spotted the woman tied to a chair in front of her.
Monica Gentry.
“Binding me is a crime.” Monica wore a two-piece red dress, her midriff bared. She’d lightened her hair, the once chocolate strands now a yellowish blond.
Trying to look more like Jessie Kay?
Seriously. Was a bunny boiling on the stove right this very second?
“Trespassing is also a crime,” Jessie Kay stated flatly. “And I made a citizen’s arrest, so I was totally within my rights to bind you.”
“We’re on public property. I did nothing wrong,” Monica insisted.
“Please. The party is invitation only—meaning private—but I’m done arguing with you. I have work to do.”
“What’s the matter?” Monica lifted her nose in the air. “Can’t stand a little competition?”
“Oh, honey. We’re not even in the same league.”
“You’re right. You’re nothing but a gold-digging whore.”
Red winked over West’s vision, and he took a step forward, unsure about what he was about to do but knowing the end result would be ugly.
“Wait. West is rich?” Jessie Kay gave a mock gasp, and West stopped to watch the antics. “Dang. I should have taken him up on his romantic proposal of marriage and a house full of rug rats. How could I have been so foolish, thinking I should hold out for love? Noooo!” Jessie Kay ran a fingertip down her cheek, mimicking tears. “Such a wasted opportunity.”
The red faded, and West actually found himself fighting a grin.
“You lie! He would never propose to the likes of you.” Monica struggled to free herself. “He won’t want you when I put a bullet in your heart. Let me go. Now!”
Aaand there was the red again.
Jessie Kay smirked at her, not the least bit intimidated. “In the talent competition of the Miss Strawberry Valley pageant, I hog-tied a calf. You ain’t getting free, princess.”
New fantasy: Jessie Kay in her tiara and sash.
“I’ve hog-tied a calf or twenty myself. I’ve also bagged and tagged deer and wild hogs. My dad still has their heads hanging in his study. Exactly where yours will hang when I’m done with you.”
All right. Enough. “Let her go, kitten.”
Both women jerked in his direction. Jessie Kay glowered at him, even stomped her foot. “No! Never!”
Monica brightened, casting him a bright smile. “West! This crazy bitch tied me up.”
“Hey! I may be a bitch, but I’m a reasonable one.”
“Untie her,” he said. “Please.”
Hurt danced over Jessie Kay’s features, and he wished he could close the distance, pull her into his arms and hold her close. Give her a little of that comforting she liked, but there was no way in hell he would add fuel to Monica’s fire.
“Fine.” Huffing and puffing, Jessie Kay obeyed. “I hope you enjoy your psycho. She’s all yours.”
Monica raced to him with every intention of throwing her arms around his neck. He caught her wrists to stop her. “Come on. I’ll show you out.” Looking at Jessie Kay, he said, “Stay here.”
West exited the door that led into the hallway rather than the ballroom, Monica protesting the entire way. In the lobby, he texted Jase.
Find Sheriff Lintz & bring him to the lobby
Jase: On it
“What’s going on?” Monica demanded.
He didn’t say another word until Jase and the sheriff strode around the corner. “This is Monica Gentry,” he informed Lintz. “She’s not only trespassing, she threatened Jessie Kay with bodily harm.”
Monica gasped. “I did no such thing. I would never—”
“She threatened to put a bullet in Jessie Kay’s heart.”
“Well, now.” Lintz pushed back the brim of his hat. “We can handle this one of two ways, Miss Gentry. I arrest you and you spend the rest of the weekend in my jail while we wait for the judge to recover from tonight’s hangover—or I walk you to your car and you don’t return to this town. Choice is yours.”
“This isn’t… This can’t be…” She pressed her lips together as all three men continued to stare at her, unfazed. “Fine.” She raised her chin, squared her shoulders. “Take me to my car.”
West released her, placing her in the sheriff’s care. “Stay away from Jessie Kay, Monica. You and I aren’t going to happen. Not now. Not ever. Understand?”
Her anger faded, tears filling her eyes. “But I love—”
“You need help.”
Her sobs followed him into the ballroom.
Several people tried to stop and chat with him, but he kept moving, returning to the back room. Where there was no sign of Jessie Kay.
One of the servers, a college-aged kid with stars in his eyes, tapped him on the shoulder and pointed. “She’s out there, sir. And if I may be so bold, your video game—”
Don’t have time for this. “Thank you. Call the WOH offices and I’ll make sure you get a booklet detailing all the Easter eggs.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
West took off and sure enough, he found Jessie Kay carting a tray of champagne glasses. He closed the distance, reaching her as she smiled up at an older gentleman, her sexiness nearly giving the guy a heart attack.
With only a glare, he sent the other guy packing.
Jessie Kay tried to step around him, but he stepped with her, remaining in her way. “Out of my way. I’m giving you the silent treatment.”
He ignored the flaw in her statement. “Why are you upset?”
Not one to hold back, she spat, “You picked her over me. Then you dared—dared!—to come to my rescue.”
“I never picked her over you. I got rid of her. And I don’t see the problem, my coming to your rescue.”
“You didn’t trust me to get the job done on my own. Something you’re paying me to do. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She stepped to the side.
Again, he stepped with her. He took the tray from her kung fu grip, flagged down a waitress and handed it over. Then he took Jessie Kay’s hand, holding tighter when she tried to wrench free.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“The only thing I’ve wanted to do since the party started, so just settle your fine ass down. This is happening whether you want it to or not.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MY FINE ASS?
My video gamer is a poet at heart.
As West led her onto the dance floor—her, a lowly server rather than an honored guest—the businesswomen stared at Jessie Kay quizzically while the females of Strawberry Valley either cheered for her or pouted that she’d (so obviously) won the affections of the most eligible bachelor in town.
When he reached the center of the dance floor, he drew her against the hard strength of his body. Shock held her immobile. This was happening. This was really happening.
From the corner of her eye, she spotted Brook Lynn, who was giving her an exuberant thumbs-up. Jase, who mouthed, “No Magic Mike?” Dane, who was nodding his head in approval. Kenna, who was grabbing a handful of jalapeño-stuffed mushrooms from a passing tray. The girl had called last night and begged Jessie Kay to add them to the menu—I have a craving and I’ll owe you forever and ever and I’ll make sure Dane writes a big fat check to the Christmas charity of your choice, pleeease—making Jessie Kay wonder if she suffered from the same condition as Harlow.
“You’re embarrassing yourself, you know,” she muttered, and oh, what the heck. She melted against him. Being in his embrace…nothing had ever felt so right.
“It’s my company. I can do what I want.”
“Wow. That’s such a mature response.”
“How about this?” Deadpan, he said, “I will not exhibit servile compliance or be beleaguered by pompous expectations.”
As thrums of heat wafted through her, she scraped her teeth over the lobe of his ear. “You know I hate when you talk all fancy like that.”
“And you know I hate the way you hate it.”
Darling man. And bad Jessie Kay. Bad! Molesting him in public. “You do realize your business associates think you’re slumming it, right? The computer mogul with the poor—but gorgeous—waitress.”
“I’m not slumming it. If anything, I’m stepping way out of my league.”
She smiled at him. “I’m loudmouthed, irreverent and just a little crude.” Also the girl with the bad rep. She’d been propositioned about a dozen times tonight. One guy asked her to sneak away to play seven minutes in heaven. Another patted her ass and told her how much he’d been missing it. Old insecurities had rolled in with a vengeance, and she’d realized liking herself wasn’t just a one-time deal. She’d have to actively work at it for the rest of her life. “How are you, the perfect gentleman, not out of my league?”
He bent a little, coming down to her level, tucking his head into the hollow of her neck and she thought maybe…maybe he was giving her a hug. The kind he’d once claimed not to like. The kind he suddenly seemed to need more than air to breathe. “You are the sun, and I’m one of the lucky planets allowed in your orbit. Nothing and no one else exists for me.”
Oh, sweet heaven. Another item to check off the forever list. One she’d thought impossible.
Forget there are other women in the world.
“What am I going to do with you?” she asked on a sigh.
“I know what I’d like you to do.” He kissed her where her shirt gaped at the collar, his hot tongue stroking her pulse. “Say you’ll go deeper into the rabbit hole with me.”
Her heart, the traitor, skipped a beat. “I require clarification. Is ‘rabbit hole’ a euphemism for sex or nerd-speak for the relationship you offered?”
“Nerd speak, but not just for the relationship.” His head lifted, his eyes hot with longing. “I want more data. I want to know everything about you.”
“You know the worst stuff already.”
“And the best, but I still want more.” He curved his hands around her waist, the heels of his palms resting on her hips, squeezing just hard enough to hold her in place. Lest she decide to bolt? “I want to know everything in between. The details are my drug of choice. Feed my addiction.”
