Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4) (7 page)

“What the hell is going on?” James asked as Jack parked in front of her place and got out of the car. “You’ve been running away from Elle since ever. What do you mean you’re ‘on it’?”

He walked to the door and rang the doorbell, but there was no answer.

“James, I have to go.” As he rang the bell again, he disconnected the call.

Nothing.

Shit, fuck. After glancing discreetly around, he picked the lock.

The place was totally silent. And empty.

Not even twenty-four hours and she’d ditched him already.

Chapter Five

“Thanks for the ride, sweetie,” Elle told Barney while she jumped off the pushback and blew him a kiss. She got into her car, drove as fast as she could to the office, left all the documents from her last flight, and rushed on foot to the check-in counters. It was at moments like this she missed her sneakers the most. Who said airline agents had to wear pencil skirts and heels? Someone who had never worked at an airport, obviously.

“Here you are,” Louise called when Elle approached the counter. “I was worried you wouldn’t make it on time.”

“Please, girlie. I haven’t missed him even once in the last year,” she answered and started typing on their reservation system. “Not going to start now.”

Elle had managed to switch her flight-coordinating duties for supervising the check-in for this intercontinental, so all was good.

She still couldn’t believe that Jack had fallen for the old I’m-tired-going-to-sleep trick. Maybe the trauma of being puked on by Eve had had something to do with it.

“You sure there won’t be any trace?” Louise asked, watching over Elle’s shoulder.

“No trace. You don’t work around these programs for ten years without picking up a few cheats of your own.”

Elle did her magic and then helped Louise with check-in procedures, making fast work of the line.

Suddenly, she noticed Louise had stilled and was gulping. “Umm, Elle?”

Following Louise’s scared eyes, Elle turned around and saw Jack, looking frigging pissed off, his bulging arms crossed over his broad chest. Fuming.

Damn, that was the risk of being at the counter. Open access to the public.

That would have never happened on the tarmac. And there she had other means of escaping.

Before she could get a single word out, he grabbed her arm and pulled her away.

“You’ve been bugging the shit out of me for over half a year with inconsequential e-mails, and when you find yourself in trouble you decide to ditch me?” he growled.

“How did you find me?”

“Check your purse.”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh. My. God. You put a bug in my purse? Do you know what kind of privacy invasion that is?”

Apparently he didn’t consider it such a big deal, because he snorted.

He dragged her to a far corner, and then he got in her face, his expression menacing. “What the fuck were you thinking? Is it all a big fucking joke to you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what the hell are you doing? What part of ‘stay home until I get back’ didn’t you get?” he snarled.

“I had to go to work. I have a life, you know?”

He obviously didn’t think so. “You had to stay home, sleeping like we agreed. Or what do you think, that I don’t have anything else to do than chase you around Boston? You unhappy with this arrangement? Because I’m not bouncing from happiness either. There are a million places I’d rather be than here, stuck with you.”

That did it. She wasn’t going to take any more of that shit. “We agreed? In what frigging universe did that happen? I agreed to nothing! You just ordered me around and expected me to comply. I told you I don’t do shit on command!” she yelled at him, going up on her tiptoes and jabbing at his chest with her finger.

“Shut it and listen to me,” Jack ordered menacingly, but she was too far gone to stop now.

“No way in hell! We agreed? Ha! That’s so rich. As if I had a chance to get a word in. You’ve done nothing but shoot orders at me and now you think you can come to my work and start bullying me? Well, let me tell you, mister, I won’t—”

“Quiet, pet,” he interrupted her, the cords at either side of his neck standing out. The guy looked bigger and scarier by the second, but she didn’t let it intimidate her.

“Oh, and newsflash, buddy! There are a million places I’d rather be too, hell included, than with you. I’m sorry being stuck with me is such a burden, that you find me so repulsive and unbearable that you can’t stand being around me, but don’t worry. I liberate you from it! Beat it and don’t let the door hit your ass on your—”

Suddenly Jack cupped her neck and brought her to him, pressing their lips together.

Surprised, Elle froze. God, for such a hard man, he had soft lips.

“Finally,” he said after releasing her mouth.

Then it dawned on her. Talk about adding insult to injury. “You kissed me to shut me up? How dare you—”

But she couldn’t continue because he took her mouth again, and this time he didn’t just press his lips against hers. This time he forced his way in, kissing her deep and hard. Thoroughly. His stubble rubbing her skin. And suddenly she wasn’t clutching his arms trying to get him off but holding on to him for dear life.

His speech skills were limited, true, but when it came to kissing, he sure knew what to do with his mouth.

When he released her, she was dazzled and her lips felt puffy and on fire. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her, cooling her. His ice-blue eyes were ablaze.

They stayed silent for a long second, their harsh breathing the only thing she could hear even though they were in a packed airport.

“You drive me insane,” he growled, his voice gravelly, his gaze never leaving hers.

“Same here, buddy. And so you know, I’m not okay with you kissing me to shut me up.”

“Tough shit. Try to be less annoying and don’t fight me. Talk less and listen more.”

Man, he needed manners. If she went on a rant, he would kiss her again, which she wasn’t too much against, but it would defeat the purpose.

“We need to leave, pet. You’re going into your supervisor’s office and putting in for holiday time. Now.” His tone brooked no argument, yet it wasn’t as cut-and-dried as before.

“Do you have a clue how notoriously understaffed airlines are? I need to file dozens of forms to ask for personal days, let alone a vacation.”

“Get family leave. You need a family crisis for that. I say this constitute a crisis.”

She looked at him. Yes, he did constitute a crisis. A major one. “I can’t leave right now. I need to wait for the asshole who put a restraining order on me.”

The corner of his mouth tilted in a rare half smile that was gone in an instant. “What did you do? E-mail him to death too? Cyberstalk him with inconsequential e-mails?”

How sweet. He knew how to crack a joke. “Nope. I reserve that rare honor for you. And those e-mails were not inconsequential,” she found herself blurting out, her voice barely there as she finished the sentence.

He didn’t answer, his eyes like laser beams going through her.

“Getting time off is not a good idea. If I drop all the stuff I normally do, people around me will notice there’s something wrong.” Not to mention she would go ballistic if she wasn’t busy. She would never be able to sleep again. “And not only that, but how the hell are we going to explain your presence? What are we going to tell the Bowens?”

She didn’t want them involved in any manner. James and Max had two small babies. Christy was pregnant. Their hands were full without having to worry about her or babysit her. And they would the instant they found out about the whole Maldonado situation.

“I’ll tell them we hooked up.”

The absurdity of that statement made her burst into laughter. “And who would believe that?”

“Does it look like I can’t play the part?” he asked, pressing her flush against him.

Well, if that hard thing poking from below his waist was anything to go by, then no, he had no problem playing the part. But that was beside the point.

She couldn’t deny Jack pushed all her buttons, getting her hot and bothered with just a look. The problem was, whenever she was around him she felt trapped between wanting to kiss him and wanting to beat the shit out of him.

And she’d given up on bad boys.

“What about me being repulsive and unbearable? A burden?”

“’Repulsive and unbearable’ were your words, not mine, pet. And you are a burden, but not in the sense you think.”

“What do you mean?” A burden was a burden; no two ways about it.

He shook his head, looking pissed off again, and put space between them. “Forget it.”

Once she wasn’t in his force field, she regained her bearings and realized Louise was waving at her from behind the check-in counter. Oh crap.

“I need to go. The passenger I told you about is arriving.”

“I let you go take care of this, and in exchange you’re putting in for time off. Otherwise you’re going nowhere.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’d
let me
?”

He didn’t correct his words, remaining silent, his face inscrutable, his grip on her shoulders unshakable. Yeah, apparently he’d meant exactly what he’d said.

Damn, Elle wanted to hash this out now, but she couldn’t miss Aston Biggs. She had the moral duty to make his life as miserable as humanly possible, so she nodded curtly.

She had lots of accumulated extra hours, and with Tate out of Rosita’s, the workload at the restaurant was going to double. Maybe getting some time off at the airport wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

He released her and she hurried to the counter, Jack at her heels.

“What did this guy do to you?”

“To me? Nothing.”

Aston Biggs, famous Internet mogul, had thrown his weight around and used his name and influence with her supervisor to get a last-minute seat on a transatlantic flight that had been totally booked. Because of him, there was a domino effect of bumped passengers, and a woman who had a confirmed seat was left out. She hadn’t made it on time and her son had died alone in a hospital after an accident. All so that asshole could go have lunch in Paris or whatever it was pricks like him did there.

Elle hadn’t been working when that had happened, but she’d been there when the woman had been waiting for the next flight and had gotten the news of her son passing away.

She hadn’t been able to say her good-byes, so it had been Elle’s mission ever since to be at all his flights to stomp all over his rights.

“I hate bullies, and he’s the worse kind,” she answered. “The kind who can’t take what he himself dishes out. All talk, no walk. Because of him, someone missed something that she can’t ever get back.” And she knew very well what she was talking about.

“Why did he put a restraining order on you?”

“The guy has no sense of humor,” she muttered as they reached the counter.

Louise’s eyes were still wide. She gave Jack a once-over and whispered, “Elle, who is this?”

“Borg, Louise. Louise, Borg,” she introduced them.

“Oh. Good idea to get a bodyguard. Perfect intimidation technique. You never know when Biggs will snap.”

Elle hadn’t thought of it that way, but Louise was right. Not that Elle needed someone fighting her battles.

As always, Aston Biggs was fashionably late. He believed people of his stature weren’t supposed to be kept waiting, much less with commoners. His time was too valuable.

The little weasel scrunched his nose at the sight of her. “You. I don’t want her tending to my business,” he said to Louise.

Elle smiled widely and took a step away from the counter. She’d already
tended
to his business; she was there just to observe.

“I’m on this flight. Business class.” Even though it was an intercontinental flight, the bastard didn’t present any documentation. No passport. No e-ticket. As if everyone should know him.

“And you are?” Louise asked.

“Mr. Biggs. Aston Biggs, of course,” he spat, obviously not pleased.

Louise tapped on the keyboard. “Hmm, I’m sorry Mr. Biggs, but according to our system, you booked a seat in coach.”

“Impossible. I do not fly coach.”

He was today. Last row. Closest to the bathroom. Constant flow of people. Least legroom, loudest seats on the whole plane. Flanked by the two most robust passengers she’d found, whom she’d awarded several thousand bonus miles for the aggravation to have to put up with Biggs for eight hours.

“Sorry, sir. Nothing I can do. Check-in is all but closed. The business-class seats are taken, the boarding passes printed and handed out. If you would have come in earlier, maybe we could have—”

“I want your supervisor here. Now.”

“That would be me,” Elle said, her voice sugary. “You will have to take this up with your travel agent when you get back.”

“I want
her
supervisor,” Biggs yelled at Louise.

“We are very sorry for the misunderstanding, but there’s nothing he can do either. Boarding has started and unless you hurry to the gate, you’ll miss the plane,” Louise explained, handing him the boarding pass.

He ignored her and, after turning to Elle, took a step forward. “All this is your fault. You conniving little bi—”

She would have had no trouble beating the shit out of him; after all, she had the right to defend herself and the restraining order had expired, but before he could reach her, Jack intercepted him.

“You heard the lady. Get moving.”

Biggs wasn’t used to being talked to in that manner or addressed by someone looking like Jack, because he stammered a bit before answering. “And you are…?”

“Assaulting an airline agent is a very serious offense. I suggest you rethink it.”

“I have unfinished business with her.”

“No. Your business is finished. Get moving,” Jack repeated. His back was in front of her, so she couldn’t see his eyes, but she could guess by the tone of his voice his expression must have been frightening.

Biggs recoiled, huffed. “You’re lucky I’m in a hurry, because this is not the end. I
will
have your job,” he threatened Elle as he grabbed the boarding pass and left.

“Have a nice flight,” she said, waving at him, and then whispered to Jack, “Wait till he sees the seat I picked out for him. This is a trip he won’t forget anytime soon.”