Busted: Promise Harbor, Book 3 (16 page)

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.”

From the heat that flashed in her eyes, she knew that renovations were not the only other things his hands would be good for.

How she could make him so aroused without saying a word, he didn’t know. But he damn well knew he wasn’t about to give Hayley’s mom another reason to disapprove of him.

“You need help,” he repeated. Staying on topic was good. And it meant he wouldn’t be thinking about showing Hayley every dirty trick he could do with his hands.

Hayley shrugged. “Maybe I do, but not at the cost of pretending I’m your new plaything.”

“You honestly think that’s what people think?”

She leaned forward. “You’ve had almost as many girlfriends as you’ve had goals, and the only serious—” She broke off.

“Finish what you were going to say.”

“Okay. The only serious relationship you had, you ended the second things got tough.”

“The second I had my accident, you mean?”

She nodded, at least sparing him from the usual pitying look he received any time his career-ending accident came up in conversation. He usually went out of his way to make sure it didn’t.

“
She
ended it,” he corrected, steering the conversation back to Hayley. “Look, you need the help. Are you going to let what people
might
think about us get in the way of that?”

“I’ve been managing so far.”

“And you can only run on fumes for so long.”

“I’m doing fine,” she insisted.

“Have you looked at your eyes this morning? I’ve seen goalie pads smaller than the bags you’ve got going on there.” And even her exhaustion did nothing to take away from how attractive she looked with her hair pulled back and her eyes going stormy on him.

“God, you’re sweet,” she mocked, rubbing self-consciously at her face.

“You’re going to burn out, and then who will work your cases and renovate the house and coach those hockey kids?”

Arms crossed, she searched his face. “What’s in it for you?”

“I stay busy and keep a low profile at the same time. And if everyone thinks we’re involved, no women will randomly jog by to see how hot I look with my tool belt on.”

She snorted, her lips curving in the barest hint of a smile. “You have a tool belt?”

“Don’t all renovation experts?”

“Now you’re an expert?”

“At many things, but you’ve been pretty clear about not exploring those other areas.” He rested his elbows on the table. “So, do we have a deal?”

Chapter Seven

Hayley crossed her arms, her expression too guarded for Jackson to decipher. He figured he had at least a fifty-fifty shot of her not throwing the drink on the table in his face.

She rubbed at her eyes again. “Fine.”

“Should we seal it with a kiss?”

“I think we’ve given everyone enough of a performance for one day.”

Lifting one shoulder, Jackson held out a hand, smiling when Hayley grudgingly shook it.

A few minutes later Mrs. Stone delivered his sandwich herself, with Hayley’s food following a few seconds later. Once the other waitress hustled off to another table, Mrs. Stone grabbed a bottle of ketchup for Hayley’s fries, then turned to Jackson. “I just heard that you’re helping Hayley with the renovations at Mitch’s place. That’s very wonderful of you.”

Hayley paused, fry halfway to her mouth. “Who did you hear that from?”

Jackson had never believed much got by Mrs. Stone—Hayley’s teenage antics certainly hadn’t—but even she couldn’t have overhead their conversation.

“Cody and Kyle’s mother was just in to pick up lunch and she mentioned it. Jackson told the boys when they went looking for you this morning.”

“Did he now?” Hayley’s eyes narrowed a fraction.

“I’m glad you’ve at least realized you can’t do everything yourself.”

Jackson winced inwardly at the comment, wondering if Hayley would let it slide. Not a chance, he decided when she sat a little straighter in the booth.

“Weird that I haven’t heard you say that to Matt, who’s running one business and trying to start another.”

Mrs. Stone dropped a quick kiss on her daughter’s head. “I’m going to be late for a meeting if I don’t get a move on. You two enjoy lunch.” She paused to chat with an elderly woman on her way out, and Jackson knew his reprieve was over.

“You—”

He held up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say.”

“I doubt that very much.”

“We have a deal,” he reminded her, taking a large bite of his sandwich.

“You would have been over to help renovate anyway, after telling those kids that.” She pushed her plate aside, mulling that over. “You used the renovations to avoid them, didn’t you? If Cody was there, then so was Brent.”

Ah, the shorter one’s name.

“They’re two peas in a pod,” Hayley continued, “and Brent wouldn’t have been shy about asking you for pointers.”

Jackson dipped a fry in the ketchup on Hayley’s plate. “Should I have encouraged them to work hard at something that may never happen, or worse, it does and then it’s snatched away from them?”

“If you had known that it wasn’t going to work out for you in the long run, would you not still have gone for it?”

The question poked at wounds, killing his appetite. It was better to cut and run at this point than rehash stuff that wouldn’t change a damn thing. For the first time in a long while, though, he had something to look forward to. He just wasn’t sure if the coaching position was responsible for that, or the woman sitting across from him.

He rose from the booth, but before leaving he bent to whisper in Hayley’s ear. “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.”

Hayley watched Jackson walk away, torn between wanting to apologize for mentioning hockey in the first place, and kissing him until he forgot she’d said anything about it at all.

“Out of my mind,” she mumbled under her breath. If someone told her she couldn’t be a cop anymore, she might not feel as lost as Jackson looked, but kissing would hardly make it all better.

At least she could admit that she hadn’t kissed Jackson because of Eric. Maybe it had started out that way when she’d walked toward him, but somewhere between the few steps separating her and Jackson and feeling his arms slide around her, she’d forgotten all about sending Eric a message.

Forgotten everything except the way Jackson’s eyes had lit up when he spotted her and the warm tug in her stomach when she fit so perfectly against him.

She’d wanted to kiss Jackson. Plain and simple. Too bad there wasn’t anything plain or simple about the way he made her feel each and every time he talked his way into her personal space.

Hayley tried pushing all thoughts of kissing out of her head and picked at her food before heading back to the station.

Both conversations with Jackson replayed through her head the whole way, and every time she ended up back at the part where he’d tricked her into leaning across the table so he could kiss her. Could steal every coherent thought in her head with just a brush of his lips.

Just? There wasn’t anything
just
about it. The man was devastatingly charming and sexy and she hadn’t exaggerated even a little bit when she’d said that no one had ever kissed her like that before.

But Jackson being a good—okay, phenomenal—kisser shouldn’t have landed her back into playing the part of his girlfriend, even if he’d made a good case of reminding her she could use help with the renovations.

“Gauthier?”

The other cop paused on his way to the break room, probably on the hunt for more lemon doughnuts. “Yeah?”

“Do I have bags under my eyes?”

“Christ, Stone. I don’t know how to answer those kinds of questions when my wife asks, and you’re armed.” He kept walking.

“Trouble in paradise?” Dressed in jeans and a black Aerosmith T-shirt and smelling like fresh-cut grass, her partner Phil grinned at her.

“Not one word.”

“You’re supposed to be off today.”

Certainly didn’t feel that way to her. “You are too,” she pointed out. “I’m just making a few calls and then I’m out of here.” She was waiting to hear back from one more hospital and she hadn’t been able to reach Greta’s ex earlier, but wanted to try again. If nothing else, she could reassure Mrs. Brewster that her daughter wasn’t hurt. “What’s your excuse?”

“Just following up on something.” Something was off in her partner’s voice, and she stared at him until he caved. “Captain just wanted me to look over the report from last night.”

“He wants you to double-check my work,” she guessed, a ten-pound weight hitting the bottom of her stomach.

“It’s not like that, Hayley. He just wants this guy caught and will put as many of us on it as he can to make that happen. Hell, he’d put Mabel on it if she could stop yakking long enough to be any help.”