Busted: Promise Harbor, Book 3 (21 page)

Heat filled her cheeks, and she gave the other couple her back. “Excuse us a second.” Hayley grabbed Jackson’s hand and dragged him into the kitchen.

“Gavin wasn’t really wearing the suit, was he?”

She gave him a bewildered look. “I thought we were talking about last night?”

“We certainly can, though I got the impression a second ago you didn’t want me to talk about it.” It shouldn’t have been so much fun to tease her. It was even more fun to see how she’d retaliate when he pushed her too far.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You seem confused.” Jackson smiled. “Maybe a little refresher will help clear your head.” He hooked a hand around her hip, drawing her closer. She smelled incredible, and the sweet scent only reminded him of exactly what she didn’t want to talk about.

Them. Nearly naked. Thirty seconds from finally burying himself deep inside her.

Jackson missed her lips by a breath. It should have been an impossible feat since he hadn’t been able to stop staring at her mouth since she walked into Stone’s.

“What are we doing?”

That worried look was back in her eyes, but somehow he didn’t think he was getting around it this time. “Kissing.” At least that was his plan.

“Not what we’re doing right this minute.”

Knowing this couldn’t be a great conversation at any point, certainly not when he was this close to coaxing her tongue into his mouth, he knew they needed to get it over with.

“I’m not… We shouldn’t…” She blew out a breath. “I don’t do casual sex,” she finished with.

There was nothing casual about how much he wanted Hayley or how he found himself constantly thinking about or looking for her. But that definitely wasn’t a conversation they needed to have right at the moment. “I didn’t think we were doing anything we needed to put a label on, were we?”

She cocked her head, her cop expression making him wary. “Someone might say that’s a line spoken by a true player.”

Where the hell had that come from? “Whoa. I’m automatically the bad guy because I don’t have any more of a clue than you do about what’s happening here?”

She frowned, looking just as uncertain as he felt. “What are you looking for?”

Wasn’t that the million-dollar question? “I don’t know.” He hadn’t had any idea before she stared at him, hunting for answers, and was even less sure now. Why did women have to complicate everything? Wasn’t it enough that they were both obviously attracted to each other?

Hayley moved away from him, picking up the knife Matt had been using to cut garnishes earlier, her movements precise as she finished the job. “Gramps wants you to visit him.”

The statement carried just enough annoyance to really throw Jackson for a loop. Was that where this was coming from? Had Coach heard rumors about them dating, and she was worried about what he thought?

He couldn’t decide whether or not to ask about it. He had a feeling he didn’t want to know what prompted her to pull away. It probably fell into the same category of he-should-have-known-better.

The door swung open and Matt poked his head inside. “Hayley, can you stick around for an hour or so? The waitress scheduled to work tonight is gonna be late and I don’t want to get swamped.”

“Sure.”

If Matt picked up on the tension, he was too busy out front to worry about it, and returned to the bar. Not sure what to do about the tension himself, Jackson opted to get some air.

A steady stream of traffic was trickling in and someone was setting up on the small stage in the corner. Jackson remembered Matt saying that he was experimenting with some live entertainment.

His earlier eagerness to tell Hayley about the work he’d gotten done at the house today faded, along with his satisfaction of having completed another room. He’d forgotten how much he liked working with his hands off the ice, and the tired muscles were familiar and strangely welcome.

The only thing he’d been looking forward to, besides getting back to work tomorrow morning, was seeing Hayley. And that hadn’t exactly gone well.

Outside, it had begun to rain, and Jackson walked the perimeter of the deck until even that area wasn’t big enough to contain the restlessness twitching under his skin. Maybe he was better off going back and working on Coach’s place some more. Except he’d still have to deal with Hayley’s questions when she got home.

Not exactly a win-win situation. What he needed to do was go back inside and kiss her until there was nothing left to say. It was a solution any smart man could get behind, but Hayley was far from predictable, and there was a good chance she had no intention of anything else happening between them, real or pretend.

That didn’t sit well with him at all, and he became even more annoyed that it mattered so much to him. He was a day or two away from an interview and possible job offer. In a few weeks he could be back in the NHL, back in a world where he belonged, and he was worried about whether or not he and Hayley were going to continue their fake relationship?

Shit, he needed a beer. And definitely more than one.

With the recent events that had put him back in the spotlight, however, he didn’t want anyone wondering if he was off the wagon. He’d never needed to be on the wagon, but when his ex had been interviewed following his accident, she’d implied that alcohol had been a factor. Half a beer was far from a factor, but of course she couldn’t have left it alone. No, that factor had also been one of the reasons he’d supposedly dumped her.

With his mood growing fouler, he decided on a drive. He jogged down the steps, but stopped at the end of a parked Jeep when he noticed the shorter teen from Hayley’s. Brent, he thought.

Unfortunately Jackson also recognized the douche standing opposite Brent, looking more pissed than a guy sent to the penalty box during playoffs for some bogus call.

Jackson took a small measure of comfort in the fact that buddy’s face was still bruised from their fight the other night. His body was just as rigid with tension, his lips cut in a threatening smile—like he was spoiling for another fight, but with his younger brother this time, Jackson guessed. The two had the same unruly auburn hair and freckles. They were definitely related.

The pair talked too low for Jackson to hear, but there was no missing the hard shove that knocked Brent into the car at his back.

“Take it easy.” Jackson moved in their direction, stopping just shy of being considered a threat, but making his presence felt nonetheless.

The douche’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck off.”

Jackson had heard it before, had in fact heard a slight variation of it the other night. It hadn’t taken much to resist the moron’s verbal baiting before, but picking on a kid smaller and younger than him? Not a chance.

Maybe he was still pissed at where their last confrontation had landed him. Or maybe he was still stewing about his and Hayley’s argument. Either way, Jackson didn’t hesitate to make the first move.

He plowed the guy in the face, nailing him in the jaw with his fist.

Chapter Nine

Blood spurted from the corner of the moron’s lips, and he spat a mouthful on the gravel, but Jackson was already moving, taking a swing at his friend wearing a Red Sox ball cap before he jumped in to cover his friend’s back.

He made contact with his fist, but only a glancing blow deflected by a hand thrown up at the last second. Leaving him wide open for the punch he took to the gut.

Jesus.

Doubled over, Jackson saw Brent dart away from the fight, retreating to the deck. Likely a safe distance to watch Jackson go two-to-one with Brent’s brother and friend.

Dragging in a sharp breath, Jackson launched himself straight at the older brother. They both hit the side of the Jeep and toppled hard to the gravel. His palms scraped the rocks as he fought his way back to his feet.

Red Sox hung back to help his friend up. More blood dripped down the guy’s face. He’d look really pretty in the morning.

Jackson grinned and flexed a fist, knowing he’d need to ice it later. Wasn’t much point in worrying about it now when they were far from done. Brent’s older brother used the Jeep to propel himself the rest of the way to his feet.

Fists swinging, he moved fast for a guy of his size, but Jackson caught him, spun him around and planted him face-first against the truck parked next to the Jeep.

Shit. It was Hayley’s truck. And the new dent in the passenger-side door was his fault. He might have noticed her truck sooner if the rain weren’t coming down in drenching sheets that plastered his shirt to his chest.

Brent’s brother slid along the wet truck, his knees wobbling when he tried to stand this time. Just as pissed, Red Sox charged Jackson.

White foam hit them both in the face, and he coughed when he tasted some on his tongue. The foamy deluge continued until all three scrambled away from one another. Jackson followed the end of the hose to where Hayley stood, clutching the fire extinguisher she’d used to break up the fight.

“You’ve got one minute to get lost or you two will be arrested this time.”

Brent’s brother and his friend took off, pausing long to glare at Brent, who still stood at the edge of the deck.

Jackson wiped at the foam, glad for the rain that was helping to wash the white stuff away.

Hayley motioned to the people who’d stepped out onto the deck to watch. “Show’s over.”

When the onlookers shuffled inside, he wiped at the foam on his pants. “Would have preferred a Taser for a backup, but you got the job done.”

“Don’t,” Hayley warned. She turned away from him. “Go inside and call your mom, Brent.” She waited until the teenager followed the others inside, then shot a furious look at Jackson. “They look up to you, damn it.”

Adrenaline from the fight still pounded through his system, making it all too easy to snap at Hayley. “I didn’t ask to be anyone’s role model.”

“Tough shit. It comes with the territory. You know that.”

“I’m not that guy anymore.” Did she get that by now?

“Screw that.” She set the extinguisher aside so hard it fell over. “Just because you’re not playing professional hockey anymore doesn’t mean you’re some washed-up loser.”

“Says who? You?”

She threw her hands up. “Someone needs to.”

“It’s not that simple.” He closed the distance between him and the bottom of the stairs. “Your dream isn’t over.” She still got to do what she was good at. No one looked at her wondering what would become of her now. No one waited until she walked by and talked about what a shame it was about the accident.

“And your life isn’t over because you can’t play hockey anymore.”

In two steps he was face-to-face with her. “Don’t act like you know anything about my life.”

“The life you enjoy splashing around the Net for the media to mock?”

Anger pulsed through him. “You should know better than anyone that there’s a lot more to any picture that shows up online.”

Vulnerability flashed across her face. She pressed her lips into a firm line. “I’m not so sure I do.”

That struck a nerve. Jackson walked away, refusing to look back and see if she remained on the deck watching him or if she’d already gone back inside.

By the time he reached his car, most of the foam had been washed away. He dug his keys from his pocket and shoved them in the ignition. It took two tries to get the engine turned over, and then he was tearing out of the lot, probably giving her another reason to arrest him.

He drove aimlessly, circling blocks with no destination in mind other than not going back to his parents’ place. He could leave town now. Go home to his condo hundreds of miles away, where he didn’t have to worry about living up to anyone’s expectations but his own.

His empty condo.

Fuck.

He let his head thunk back against the headrest. He wasn’t ready to go home yet. Wasn’t even sure where home was anymore. Returning to Promise Harbor wasn’t supposed to have complicated his life.

On his third pass by the rink, he pulled in to the empty lot. He sat staring through the windshield at the building he’d helped renovate with a generous donation.

When the rain slowed to a sprinkle, he got out of the car. Still way too keyed up, he wandered around the paved lot where the Zamboni usually dumped everything after cleaning the ice surface. He leaned against the hood of his car, trying to sort through the chaos in his head.

Once he wrapped up a couple things, he could be on his way. He needed to make sure Josh was good and he needed to see Coach. Hayley needed professional help getting everything done to her grandfather’s place. There had to be someone he could call about that.

Then he could go. Maybe travel down the eastern seaboard until he heard from his agent. There. A plan he could work with.

Mind made up, Jackson felt himself relax. He didn’t rush to get back in the car, not until the rain worsened, leaving him no choice but to take shelter inside the vehicle. Even then he stayed in the rink parking lot until he felt something close to normal.

This time, however, when he was ready to go, the engine refused to turn over.

He waited a minute and tried again, his earlier frustration instantly surfacing. He flipped the button underneath and threw open his car door. In the pouring rain, he lifted the hood and stared at the under workings of the car, wishing he’d paid more attention to all the time spent in Matt’s garage as he tinkered on his first car.