In Jack's Arms (Fighting Connollys) (4 page)

"I ain't going nowhere, lady. You're gonna give me what I want."

Abby chortled and rolled those gorgeous brown eyes. "Or what?"

"You don't wanna see what I got under here, bitch." That scrawny bastard reached toward the front of his pants, sliding his hand under his shirt.

Seeing red, Jack reacted on instinct. He bolted across the shop, snatched the back of the guy's jersey and jerked him upright. Gripping the little shit's wrist, he dragged it toward the center of his back. A loud
thunk
echoed amid gasps as a wicked looking knife dropped to the floor. Jack kicked it behind him and then

smashed the threatening prick's face down against the glass of the jewelry case.

"Man, get off me!"

Dropping his mouth close to the other man's ear, he hissed, "No one talks to Abby that way." He pushed the bastard's thumb back and drew a yowl of pain. "You're going to take your cheap ass chains and get the hell out of here."

The man slapped at the counter with his free hand and gathered up his goods. Still holding him by the

back of the shirt, Jack walked him out of the shop. The security guard closest to the door held it open for him. Jack jerked his head toward the knife on the ground. "Put that away some place safe and call the police."

Out in the night, he dragged the would-be attacker to the corner. Before he let go, he made sure to give

the man one final warning. "If I ever see you around here again, I'll rip that nasty grill out of your mouth and shove it up your ass. Understood?"

With a rough shove, he sent the skinny asshole stumbling forward. The kid straightened up and fixed

Jack with a menacing stare. "You done made a big mistake, man. Huge!"

A harsh laugh erupted from Jack's throat. "Kid, I lived through two tours in Iraq and another two in

Afghanistan. I've been shot. I've been blown up. I've survived a helicopter crash and a firefight. There ain't shit that you and your loser friends can do that scares me."

All bravado fled from the kid's face. Had he finally realized that he was dealing with a different breed of man? Jack meant every word he had said. He didn't make idle threats, not when it came to the safety of the people he cared for most. This prick was lucky he was getting away this easily after trying to hurt Abby.

My Abby
. The possessive thought burned through him. It was one he could no longer deny. It was one he was determined to make a reality.

Hitching up his pants, the wannabe gangster pivoted on his heel. Jack watched him walk away until he

disappeared around a corner. Heading back into the shop, he discovered Abby in a heated discussion with

Dan while Mattie methodically cleaned the smudge created by that jerk's face on the glass case. Not liking the way Dan talked down to Abby, Jack forced his feet to remain frozen to the spot. Abby didn't need him

riding to her rescue all the time. She was perfectly capable of handling her employee.

"We'll discuss this tomorrow, Dan. It's been a long day, and we're all on edge."

"It's theft, Abby."

Back ramrod straight, Abby looked like a viper ready to strike. "Are you seriously going to stand there and say that?"

Jack quickly read the situation and realized it was about the watch now tucked into the pocket of his

jeans. He quickly ate up the floor with long strides and retrieved the watch. Holding it out, he said, "It wasn't theft. It was an honest mistake. I'm happy to pay for it."

"It's already been paid for," Abby informed him. "I covered the full retail price of the watch we would have assigned to it when it went onto the floor. The shop made plenty of money off this watch." Glancing at Dan, she added, "Which you would have known if you had let me speak to you in the morning."

The older man's ears turned red. "You could have said—"

"I don't have to say anything, Dan. It's my shop. I don't have to clear every single move I make with you." With an irritated huff, she spun away from the night manager and stalked back to her brother.

With his face puffed out and just as red as his ears, Dan muttered under his breath and stormed away to

the line of cash registers. Still surprised by that waspish tone Abby had used, Jack slipped the watch back into his pocket and made his way to the jewelry counter Mattie had just finished cleaning. Taking in Abby's tired eyes and tense posture, Jack decided that she needed dinner, a hot bath and a massage.

"Abby." He spoke firmly but softly. "Get your purse and head home. Mattie and I are going to grab dinner. We'll meet you there."

"Jack, I don't need—"

"You need to get some rest. You need a hot meal and some time to unwind." He cupped her beautiful face with one hand, loving the way her darker skin looked against his tanned fingers, and gently brushed

his thumb along the apple of her cheek. Her eyes widened fractionally, and she inhaled a surprised breath.

In all the years they had been friends, it was the first time he had ever touched her so intimately.

It wouldn't be the last.

"Let me take care of you tonight."

An expression that seemed suspiciously close to panic crossed her face. "I can take care of myself,

Jack."

"I never said you couldn't." He let his thumb trace that pouty lower lip of hers. He wanted nothing more than to dip his head and finally claim her mouth but this wasn't the time or place. Later, he would get that kiss he wanted so badly. It would be the sort of kiss that left her trembling and panting. "Abby?"

She swallowed hard. "All right. I'll get my stuff and meet you at the house." She glanced back at her brother who looked on curiously. With a slant to her mouth, she added, "I'm sure he's going to make you chase down that taco truck he loves so much but don't let him bamboozle you into believing that it's okay

for him to order that atomic hot sauce. He'll be up all night with heartburn."

Jack smiled. "I'll take that under advisement."

Abby dared to touch his chest. Her small hand felt so damned good rubbing that circle. He wanted to

feel her skin against his without the thin cotton barrier between them. "Thank you, Jack. I appreciate you stepping in with that loser."

"He won't bother you again."

"I hope not."

"I'll make sure of it." He had never wanted to draw her close and kiss her forehead more. Fighting the urge to claim her so publicly, he let his hand fall from her face. "Where's the knife?"

"Pete locked it away in the safe and called Santos while you were dragging that guy outside. He'll pick it up in the morning and review the security tapes. He has a feeling he knows who that jerk was."

Jack had always been impressed with the detective and trusted he would handle the problem. "Get your

stuff. I'll walk you out to your car."

She nodded, disappeared into the back and returned with her purse a short time later. He noticed the

way she gave Dan a wide berth. He suspected the friction there existed because the older man had expected

to take a more prominent role in the business after Mr. Kirkwood had passed. Jack wasn't sure why the man

would have thought such a thing. It had been clear to anyone who had known Abby's grandfather that he

had always planned for Abby to take his place, just as he had taken his father's in the family business.

With Mattie and Abby in front of him, Jack trailed them outside. He tried to keep his needy gaze from

lingering on that fine, taut ass of Abby's but those jeans she wore were too tempting. Every Wednesday

night during his self-defense class, she tormented him in workout pants that hugged her bottom so tightly.

More than once, he had been forced to move to the back of the class while the women practiced their

moves because Abby caused such a wild response in him.

He made sure Abby got into her car before sliding behind the wheel of his truck. Mattie was already

buckled in and tapping at his phone screen, no doubt using that app Bee had created to help him track

down the food truck. "Jack?"

"Yeah, bud?" He eased out of the parking space.

"Do you like Abby?"

His gut clenched.
Shit
. What if Mattie didn't approve? "Yeah, I like Abby."

Mattie was silent for a moment so long that Jack's stomach actually pitched with anxiety. "That's good."

Releasing a pent-up breath, he said, "I’m glad you think so. Now—where's this truck?"

Mattie showed him the map and the blinking icon. Jack quickly oriented himself and turned right at the

next stoplight. They drove along for another minute or so before Mattie spoke again. "Hey, Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"You owe two dollars to the swear jar now. You said a-s-s."

Remembering some of the language he had used outdoors, Jack laughed. "We better make it five bucks,

kid."

Chapter Three

Bumping hips with Jack in the kitchen of my childhood home felt so strange and yet in some way oddly

familiar. Side by side, we arranged the leftovers from our feast of Asian-influenced tacos while Mattie

stacked plates and silverware in the already full sink. Our dishwasher had been on the fritz for weeks, but I hadn't had the time to get it repaired. Seeing the stack of dishes waiting for me was yet another reminder that I really needed to get on that.

My fingers brushed against Jack's when we both reached for a container of the crunchy shortbread

cookies Mattie loved so much. The accidental touch reminded me of the deliberate and gentle way he had

stroked my cheek back at the store. After watching him expertly handle the situation with that knife-

wielding nut, I understood that there was a darker, dangerous side to Jack Connolly, one that he kept well-hidden.

For me, it seemed, he had been willing to unleash that frighteningly skilled beast. I couldn’t quite

describe the way that made me feel. No man had ever come to my defense like that. Jack's actions made me

feel…special.

"It's 9:15," Mattie announced. "I have to go."

I glanced at the clock on the microwave and noticed the late time. My brother stood next to the sink

overflowing with dishes and wrung his hands. Knowing only too well how he needed his routines, I smiled

and shooed him off. "Go on to bed, Mattie. I'll get the dishes tonight."

He relaxed instantly and leaned over to kiss my cheek. "Night, Abby."

I gave him a quick hug. "Night, Mattie. Make sure you set your alarm and plug in your cell phone to

recharge."

"Okay." He grabbed the small container of
polvorones
.

"Don't eat those in bed. You'll get powdered sugar on everything."

He exhaled with frustration at my nagging. "
Okay
, Abs."

I held up both hands. "Sorry."

After grabbing a handful of paper towels to guard against crumbs, Mattie stood in front of Jack with

such indecision playing upon his face. Making up his mind, he gave Jack a very manly but less than

forceful punch to the arm. "Night, bro."

Jack grinned and clapped Mattie on the back. "Night, bud."

Mattie made it all the way to the arched doorway before he turned back. "Jack, you forgot to put five dollars in the swear jar."

"You're right. I sure did." Jack tugged his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and retrieved a five dollar bill that he promptly deposited into the swear jar sitting on the counter.

Satisfied that Jack had played by the rules, Mattie left the kitchen. Amused by the way the two men

interacted, I shot Jack an appreciative smile. "Thank you."

"For?" He loaded up his arms with the plastic containers of leftovers and carted them to the refrigerator.

"For treating Mattie like any other guy," I explained and opened the icebox for him. "Most people just see his Down Syndrome. Sometimes they treat him in an almost patronizing way. It makes my skin crawl.

You don't do that. You treat him like any other younger brother."

"I treat him exactly the way I would want someone to treat Finn or Kelly." Jack closed the refrigerator door. "So 9:15?"

"It's the routine he prefers. He showers, changes into his pajamas and watches two episodes of his

favorite television show. After that, it's his prayers and bed."

"Every night?"

I nodded and moved to the sink. "Every night."

Jack tapped the dishwasher. "What's wrong with this?"

"It stopped rinsing a few weeks ago, but I found a tutorial online that helped me fix that one. Now it won't fill with water at all."

"I'll take a look at it tomorrow afternoon. If that's okay?"

I laughed. "Like I'm going to turn down a free handyman?"

Jack chuckled and pushed his hip against mine. "Scoot down. I'll wash if you'll rinse and dry."

Not at all surprised that he was willing to pitch in, I moved to stand in front of the empty sink and

grabbed a dishtowel and sponge from the drawer while Jack rearranged the stacks of dishes, cups and

silverware. When the sink was brimming with sudsy water, he reached for the sponge and got to work.

I couldn't stop staring at those big, strong hands of his. He wasn't as stocky as his youngest brother

Kelly, but he was taller and leaner than Finn. Jack had an incredible physique with muscular forearms and

biceps that stretched the sleeves of his T-shirts. This close to him, I relished the incredible heat and that intoxicating, woodsy scent that followed him everywhere. It had to be his soap. Jack didn't strike me as the type of guy who misted himself with cologne just to hang around his gym.

Our fingers touched every time he handed me a dish to rinse and dry. I tried to ignore the illicit thrill

that sparked deep in my core, but it was impossible. My thoughts kept turning back to the way Jack had so

tenderly cupped my face and traced my lip. His action left no chance for misinterpretation. Jack wanted
me
.

I didn’t know why or even when that had happened, but it was clear as day.