Love Me: The Complete Series (50 page)

Digging her fingers inside his pants behind the back pocket, she clutched his right glute. “I think I should take a few notes myself. For instance, there’s a little bump right here …”

“Little?” He gave her a wicked smile with a half-raised eyebrow.

She clutched the spot harder and he jerked. “Yes, tiny … but I couldn’t really see it the other night so I’d better check it out and make sure there’s nothing—life-threatening going on with your backside.”

Jackson sucked in air and kissed her hard. “I’m pretty sure the only thing life-threatening at the moment is not happening on my backside, babe. I know that for certain. But if you bring those claws of yours around to the front … there’s definitely something there that needs serious attention.”

Amanda stuck her tongue to the side of her mouth and tried to give the most provocative look she knew. “Serious?”

Jackson nodded. She liked the sound of that. He tossed his head at the table. “Grab the pad, counselor, we have some work to do.”

Awesome.

So many people thought authors are wordsmiths. But the best author in the world had nothing on a fine-tuned, well-experienced legal mind with gorgeous blond hair. Jackson knew that firsthand. He glanced down at his palm splayed across Amanda’s back. Secondhand too.

The woman was vocal about things that surprised him at the strangest moment—almost randomly. Jackson realized if you let her finish the thought, it was always a profound insight she’d come upon and needed to share. Unfortunately her timing sucked. For instance, she waited until he was in a passion-filled hold on her hips and an intense lip-lock to say, “Do you think Marion and her solider had sex on that ledge?”

He groaned. “Amanda, at this very moment I can honestly say I don’t give a shit but I sure hope so.”

She blinked and widened her eyes, a move that always made his breath catch. “Why do you hope so?” With minx-like intention, she gyrated her hips a little and heat flooded his veins.

Amanda Gillespie knew exactly what she was doing and she enjoyed his agony while waiting for an answer. He, however, wanted things to move a little faster. He frowned. “Because it’s a hellaciously romantic spot and someone needs to christen it if it hasn’t happened already.”

“You think so? Really? Because that’s exactly what I thought. I mean, you could be all alone and private but still see for miles. It’s like being on the inside of one of those privacy windows and looking out over a nature trail or something. The only thing that struck me when we were up there was how in the hell had they found it in the first place? It’s not visible from the ground or at least not completely. It just looked like a shadow. So, how did someone wander into such a remote spot surrounded by trees and just happen to find a ledge that’s thirty plus feet above them? None of the trees even reach that high.”

Jackson laughed. “Yeah, and I’d be happy to take you back with a blanket … just not right now.”

She blinked again and he soaked in her wide-eyed stare. He could drown in those eyes. “Do I have to climb up?”

God, she was stalling. His body wasn’t tough enough for this kind of game. “Either you climb or I carry you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You can choose. Now … Mandy … I love where your thoughts are, but can we please … stop … talking?”

But just like that she’d killed the mood—and raised his curiosity. How had she come to such an important observation about the ledge? And why mention it now rather than earlier while they were there and could search further for clues? Jackson squeezed his brows over his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. “Hell, Amanda, does your brain ever stop going full throttle?”

She batted her eyes again and he wanted to deck her—or kiss her, he wasn’t sure. “What?” She gave him the doe-eyed innocent look that he was beginning to think she practiced in front of a mirror. “Is something wrong?”

He ran a hand over her thigh and grabbed her wrist, then wrapped his fingers around the other wrist and drew them both around his neck. “Before we go any further, I need you to promise me something.”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep so be careful what you ask for and know that I have a right to say no.”

Jackson dropped his forehead to hers and sighed. “You have a right to say whatever the hell you choose, but do you really need to do it when I’m trying to feel you up? I know we’re working on a project here but just for a second, babe, put your lawyer hat in the drawer. Be here, okay? With me?”

At least Amanda had the decency to look ashamed. She chewed on her lip for a second and he half expected her to keep talking about the letters and the ledge. She didn’t.

Amanda shoved him onto the couch and crawled on top of him one leg at a time. The effort had dislodged the string on the sweatpants he’d loaned her. They lowered dangerously around her waist. She grinned, then straddled his chest and leaned down to put her chin on one hand while the elbow jabbed him in the sternum. “Wellll, you
did
say you wanted to take notes.”

“About each other, not a couple that is either as old as my grandfather or dead.”

“Okay, Mr. One-Track Mind, I solemnly swear not to discuss any legal matters with you while we’re horizontal or naked.” He seriously doubted she was a Boy Scout so the fingers she held up were a ruse.

“We’re horizontal now.”

She grinned and patted his cheek. “You’re brilliant, counselor.”

He quirked a brow at her insolent tone. “But we’re not naked.”

An evil glint in her eyes made him wonder what was going on in that brain he’d just asked her to turn off.

“I suggest we come to an agreement then, and fast.”

“Seriously?”

“Uh huh. I’ll take all your clothes off, then we can stop talking about the contract.”

“What about yours?”

She giggled. He liked the sound of her voice, teasing and tempting, as she grabbed a chunk of the sweats from her hip. She pulled the fabric generously to allow a view of the skin below. “Oh, these? Well, isn’t that something—these are yours too.”

Ohhh. He really
was
brilliant.

• • •

By seven that night, Jackson’s stomach was growling—again. Mom’s meatloaf recipe had been a huge hit. Unfortunately, it had worn off due to a very robust workout with Amanda. He had no regrets.

She was a tiny bump in his blankets, covered from head to foot in his comforter. He reached out and pulled her close, spooning against the long legs that always made any skirt look like designer-wear.

His cell phone jolted both of them to a sitting position. She dropped back with a bounce. Wait, his was on the table in the kitchen.
We both have the same ring tone? How kismet is that?
Jackson scruffed a hand over his hair, knowing it had to be rooster-tailed in back. It always did that after lying around. He smiled.

For all Amanda’s graceful ways, she slept like a guy. At the present moment she was flat on her back with legs all over. At least they were all over
him
, which was where he intended them to stay. She rolled onto her stomach and reached into the pile of clothes to find the phone.

“Ugh. My brother.” She tapped a button and the ring stopped.

Jackson’s stomach clenched. “You have a brother?”

She sighed and glanced over her shoulder his way. “Two. Both are older than I am. Is that a problem?”

He shook his head. “Of course not. I just can’t believe I didn’t already know. Tell me about them.”

Her phone jolted back into action, then a voicemail message beeped almost consecutive to the ring. She growled. “They’re a couple of busy-bodies, to be honest. If I did half the things they’d done as kids, Dad would have tanned my hide. For some reason I can’t get away with anything.”

She read her screen, then slapped a hand to the tousled hair falling over her eyes. “Oh, crap. I forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“They’re coming over in an hour to help me paint my kitchen.”

Jackson couldn’t remember the last time he’d picked up a paintbrush. “You like to paint?”

She gave him the
you’re crazy
look. “If I liked to paint, they wouldn’t be headed to my house at this very moment. I promised beer and pizza in return for a new paint job.”

Jackson grinned. “Sounds like they ended up with the short end of that straw.” He slapped her hip. “Get up. Let’s move it. We’ll have to hurry if you want to beat them to your place.”

He didn’t really have to mention it; she was already stepping into the clothes he’d brought from the dryer earlier. She balanced like a stork over the leg of her shorts and shot him a glare. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re staying here.”

Yeah, that would have been a good idea except for one thing. “I drove, remember? You don’t have a car. How are you getting home in a hurry without my help?”

“I’ll call a cab.”

“And wait thirty minutes for them to show? Probably not a good plan. Why don’t you just call and cancel?”

She struggled her leg into the shorts and cinched the waist. “Are you kidding? I’ve wanted to do this for months. If I don’t take their help now after shaming them into it for weeks, it’ll be a year before I get another chance.”

Jackson thought for a second. As much as he wasn’t really keen on the idea and needed to get back to their research, he knew it would wait. “Then I guess I’ll be on the dumb end of a paintbrush for a few hours. Let’s go.”

He second-guessed the decision as soon as they arrived at her house and two burly men with shocking blond hair lifted off her porch and stared him down.
Oh, this is going to be fun.

He had barely stepped out of the driver’s door when he was toe to toe with one of the men. Jackson had at least two inches of height advantage but they were very likely equal in weight. The man squinted and spat. “Who the hell are you?”

Amanda stepped between them and groaned. “Oh, my God, stop it. Jackson, this is my older brother, Rory. He loves to intimidate but don’t worry—he’s about as tough as toilet paper. The ugly one on the step is Danny but I call him Dan-Dan.”

Jackson smirked. “As in Dan-Dan Noodle bowl from the Chinese restaurant?”

Dan-Dan stood and Jackson sucked in his breath. The height advantage was lopsided with Danny—along with the weight. There was no way in hell Jackson would be a match for the younger Gillespie. Dan-Dan strode forward and Jackson was certain he would
not
use Amanda’s pet name for the boulder-sized brother—or any other smart-ass nickname. In fact, the safest bet would be to call him straight-up Daniel. Or perhaps Sir.

The younger but bigger brother reached for Jackson with one hand. Jackson reared back, ready to duck. Daniel chuckled. “Ease up, buddy, we don’t bite. At least, not until we know you better.”

Jackson let out his breath slowly. “I was kidding about the noodle bowl thing.”

“Yeah, I figured as much. So, back to Rory’s question—who are you?”

Amanda growled and grabbed Jackson by the arm. Her nails dug into his bicep as she drug him toward her front door, bypassing the two brothers. “Guys, Jackson is a colleague, an attorney friend. We used to work together and now I’m doing a little contract work for his company.”

Jackson wasn’t so sure he liked the label she’d applied but it wasn’t worth arguing over. A colleague? Hmmm.

Rory attempted to stare him down again but Amanda wasn’t having it. She unlocked her door and shoved through, pulling Jackson along. Both brothers sauntered behind. Amanda jerked her head toward the kitchen. “Paints in there. Brushes and rollers in the garage.”

Daniel came up behind and thumped a fist on her table. “Oh, man. I thought you said you were ready for us. You haven’t even packed or taped. I’ve got a date tonight and I wasn’t planning on staying here more than a couple of hours. Mandy, I am
not
packing up your crap
and
painting.”

Jackson wanted to laugh. For all the man’s size, his sister ruled his world without even trying. She batted her big eyes and gave the fakest sheepish grin he’d seen. “Sorry, brother. I’ve been swamped and haven’t had a chance. I’ll do it now, and don’t worry … you’ll make your date. Who are you going out with?”

Big Dan, as Jackson wanted to christen him, darted a daring look at his little sister. “You really think I’m going to tell you? I’m no idiot.” He pulled a box from a closet and with one arm, swept everything from her counter into the cardboard.

Amanda’s relationship with her brothers reminded him of Carter. He hadn’t spoken to his friend since Amanda ditched him, and he missed their talks. He watched her tease with her brothers about dates, paint, and all sorts of stupid topics and it hurt to realize that the only brother he’d ever had was likely never going to forgive him for what he’d done.
Don’t be stupid, Jax, she didn’t break up with him because of you. You didn’t ask anything of her. You simply—cared.

“Amanda, have you talked to Carter since you kicked him to the curb?”

Screech.
All three of them stopped grab-assing AKA childish wrestling and opened their mouths. Amanda squinted. “I didn’t kick him to the curb. I just told him I was involved with someone else.”

Rory picked up on one word and only one. “Are you telling me you’re involved with this string bean? Please tell me no.”

Jackson felt the skin on the back of his neck rise. “You have a problem with me?”

Rory held up both hands. His left palm had a stripe of blue paint and Jackson wanted to laugh but knew the timing wouldn’t work. “I’m not saying that but if my sister’s going to be
seeing
someone, I think maybe our family ought to know the person before she starts telling the world.”

Apparently Amanda had a problem with big brother’s overprotectiveness because her face went from pink to crimson in two seconds. She shoved a finger in Rory’s face, then switched to Daniel and back. “You and you don’t have any say in who I do or don’t date. You never have and you sure as hell never will. The minute I ask your permission to
see
anyone would be the minute I need to be committed to a psych ward somewhere. Need I remind you of the time Daniel tried to set me up on a blind date with his buddy at work?”