The Harder You Fall (21 page)

He lifted a brow in haughty derision. “A
rare few
implies there are others you wouldn't mind seeing her with.”

“You've met Daniel, right?”

He rolled his eyes. Daniel was here with his date. A six-foot, stick-thin ice queen.

Dotty Mathis, Carol's daughter, hadn't stopped watching the pair since they'd arrived.

West had noticed because he, too, had been watching Daniel. Anytime Jessie Kay neared him, the two made funny faces at each other. Their relationship reminded West of the friendship Jase and Beck had had with Tessa. Teasing, taunting, but with an underlay of mutual respect.

“Daniel is like Jessie Kay's brother,” he said.

Brook Lynn snorted. “Dane Michaelson is Kenna's stepbrother, but they still hooked up.”

He looked to Jase, who stood at Brook Lynn's side, and lifted a brow. “Do me a solid and control your woman.”

Jase spread his arms, the world's most helpless male. “Don't you think I've tried?”

“He has.” Brook Lynn smoothed her hands over the waist of her dress. A dress Jessie Kay had sewn. She'd been holing up in her bedroom more and more lately to practice creating the most amazing designs anyone has ever seen, ever.

West moved his gaze across the room, spotted Beck and Harlow. Harlow was currently an unflattering shade of green. She clutched her stomach as if someone had pulled the eject cord and she only had moments to prepare herself for an evacuation. Beck draped his arm around her waist and led her forward, pushing his way through the crowd.

“Something's wrong,” West told the others.

As soon as Beck reached them, he announced, “Surprise! Harlow is pregnant. Now we're going home. She's not feeling well.”

“What!” Brook Lynn exploded.

Jase shook his head as if he'd misheard.

West reeled. A baby? A little Beck?
I'm going to be an uncle.
A smile stretched full and wide and fast...only to fall even faster. Tessa had loved children. She'd once told him she wanted to start trying for a kid as soon as they married, that she wanted two boys and two girls so their kids would always have a friend. She would have loved being an aunt.

Tessa couldn't live her dreams; during his self-imposed sentence, he shouldn't live his.

He rubbed at his heart, at the new ache deep, deep inside it. Did Jessie Kay want marriage? A family of her own?

Five years. Just five gut-wrenching years, and he could give her everything she wanted...could take everything
he
wanted. Her...all of her. Desire for her was a fire in his blood. He'd already realized he craved her more than any other woman...but he realized now he craved her more than he'd ever craved coke.

Her presence alone filled him with a sense of peace. Her smile distracted and delighted him. Her laugh enchanted him. Her wit charmed him.

Where was she? When would she make her decision?

As Jase and Brook Lynn talked excitedly about Baby Becklow—Hark?—West stalked toward the door in back. Along the way, he ran into Dane and Kenna, the two just coming off the dance floor, glowing with love, light and happiness.

“Uh-oh,” Kenna said. “Jessie Kay must be in trouble.”

West frowned. “What makes you think so?”

“You only wear that particular scowl when you're thinking about her.”

That couldn't be true. “She's not in trouble.” Yet. “Have you seen her?”

Dane kissed Kenna's temple, his lips lingering over her skin. “Last time I saw your firecracker, she was dealing with a situation. Looked like she had everything under control,” he added when West went still.

A situation? “Excuse me.” He picked up the pace. Three other couples got in his way, but he barreled onward, eye on the prize. A server hurried past the door, her features drawn and pale, and West slipped inside the room.

“—ruin this party,” Jessie Kay was saying.

The kitchen had white walls papered with strawberries, a long pink-and-white marble countertop and top-of-the-line appliances. Apparently business had picked up substantially for the few months Harlow had worked here, allowing Carol to make long-needed updates.

Between the stove and fridge he found Jessie Kay—alive and well—and he was finally able to breathe. Then he spotted the woman tied to a chair in front of her.

Monica Gentry.

“Binding me is a crime.” Monica wore a two-piece red dress, her midriff bared. She'd lightened her hair, the once chocolate strands now a yellowish blond.

Trying to look more like Jessie Kay?

Seriously. Was a bunny boiling on the stove right this very second?

“Trespassing is also a crime,” Jessie Kay stated flatly. “And I made a citizen's arrest, so I was totally within my rights to bind you.”

“We're on public property. I did nothing wrong,” Monica insisted.

“Please. The party is invitation only—meaning private—but I'm done arguing with you. I have work to do.”

“What's the matter?” Monica lifted her nose in the air. “Can't stand a little competition?”

“Oh, honey. We're not even in the same league.”

“You're right. You're nothing but a gold-digging whore.”

Red winked over West's vision, and he took a step forward, unsure about what he was about to do but knowing the end result would be ugly.

“Wait. West is rich?” Jessie Kay gave a mock gasp, and West stopped to watch the antics. “Dang. I should have taken him up on his romantic proposal of marriage and a house full of rug rats. How could I have been so foolish, thinking I should hold out for love? Noooo!” Jessie Kay ran a fingertip down her cheek, mimicking tears. “Such a wasted opportunity.”

The red faded, and West actually found himself fighting a grin.

“You lie! He would
never
propose to the likes of you.” Monica struggled to free herself. “He won't want you when I put a bullet in your heart. Let me go. Now!”

Aaand there was the red again.

Jessie Kay smirked at her, not the least bit intimidated. “In the talent competition of the Miss Strawberry Valley pageant, I hog-tied a calf. You ain't getting free, princess.”

New fantasy: Jessie Kay in her tiara and sash.

“I've hog-tied a calf or twenty myself. I've also bagged and tagged deer and wild hogs. My dad still has their heads hanging in his study. Exactly where yours will hang when I'm done with you.”

All right. Enough. “Let her go, kitten.”

Both women jerked in his direction. Jessie Kay glowered at him, even stomped her foot. “No! Never!”

Monica brightened, casting him a bright smile. “West! This crazy bitch tied me up.”

“Hey! I may be a bitch, but I'm a reasonable one.”

“Untie her,” he said. “Please.”

Hurt danced over Jessie Kay's features, and he wished he could close the distance, pull her into his arms and hold her close. Give her a little of that comforting she liked, but there was no way in hell he would add fuel to Monica's fire.

“Fine.” Huffing and puffing, Jessie Kay obeyed. “I hope you enjoy your psycho. She's all yours.”

Monica raced to him with every intention of throwing her arms around his neck. He caught her wrists to stop her. “Come on. I'll show you out.” Looking at Jessie Kay, he said, “Stay here.”

West exited the door that led into the hallway rather than the ballroom, Monica protesting the entire way. In the lobby, he texted Jase.

Find Sheriff Lintz & bring him to the lobby

Jase:
On it

“What's going on?” Monica demanded.

He didn't say another word until Jase and the sheriff strode around the corner. “This is Monica Gentry,” he informed Lintz. “She's not only trespassing, she threatened Jessie Kay with bodily harm.”

Monica gasped. “I did no such thing. I would never—”

“She threatened to put a bullet in Jessie Kay's heart.”

“Well, now.” Lintz pushed back the brim of his hat. “We can handle this one of two ways, Miss Gentry. I arrest you and you spend the rest of the weekend in my jail while we wait for the judge to recover from tonight's hangover—or I walk you to your car and you don't return to this town. Choice is yours.”

“This isn't... This can't be...” She pressed her lips together as all three men continued to stare at her, unfazed. “Fine.” She raised her chin, squared her shoulders. “Take me to my car.”

West released her, placing her in the sheriff's care. “Stay away from Jessie Kay, Monica. You and I aren't going to happen. Not now. Not ever. Understand?”

Her anger faded, tears filling her eyes. “But I love—”

“You need help.”

Her sobs followed him into the ballroom.

Several people tried to stop and chat with him, but he kept moving, returning to the back room. Where there was no sign of Jessie Kay.

One of the servers, a college-aged kid with stars in his eyes, tapped him on the shoulder and pointed. “She's out there, sir. And if I may be so bold, your video game—”

Don't have time for this.
“Thank you. Call the WOH offices and I'll make sure you get a booklet detailing all the Easter eggs.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

West took off and sure enough, he found Jessie Kay carting a tray of champagne glasses. He closed the distance, reaching her as she smiled up at an older gentleman, her sexiness nearly giving the guy a heart attack.

With only a glare, he sent the other guy packing.

Jessie Kay tried to step around him, but he stepped with her, remaining in her way. “Out of my way. I'm giving you the silent treatment.”

He ignored the flaw in her statement. “Why are you upset?”

Not one to hold back, she spat, “You picked her over me. Then you dared—dared!—to come to my rescue.”

“I never picked her over you. I got rid of her. And I don't see the problem, my coming to your rescue.”

“You didn't trust me to get the job done on my own. Something you're paying me to do. Now, if you'll excuse me.” She stepped to the side.

Again, he stepped with her. He took the tray from her kung fu grip, flagged down a waitress and handed it over. Then he took Jessie Kay's hand, holding tighter when she tried to wrench free.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“The only thing I've wanted to do since the party started, so just settle your fine ass down. This is happening whether you want it to or not.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

M
Y
FINE
ASS
?

My video gamer is a poet at heart.

As West led her onto the dance floor—her, a lowly server rather than an honored guest—the businesswomen stared at Jessie Kay quizzically while the females of Strawberry Valley either cheered for her or pouted that she'd (so obviously) won the affections of the most eligible bachelor in town.

When he reached the center of the dance floor, he drew her against the hard strength of his body. Shock held her immobile. This was happening. This was really happening.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Brook Lynn, who was giving her an exuberant thumbs-up. Jase, who mouthed, “No Magic Mike?” Dane, who was nodding his head in approval. Kenna, who was grabbing a handful of jalapeño-stuffed mushrooms from a passing tray. The girl had called last night and begged Jessie Kay to add them to the menu—
I have a craving and I'll owe you forever and ever and I'll make sure Dane writes a big fat check to the Christmas charity of your choice, pleeease
—making Jessie Kay wonder if she suffered from the same condition as Harlow.

“You're embarrassing yourself, you know,” she muttered, and oh, what the heck. She melted against him. Being in his embrace...nothing had ever felt so right.

“It's my company. I can do what I want.”

“Wow. That's
such
a mature response.”

“How about this?” Deadpan, he said, “I will not exhibit servile compliance or be beleaguered by pompous expectations.”

As thrums of heat wafted through her, she scraped her teeth over the lobe of his ear. “You know I hate when you talk all fancy like that.”

“And you know I hate the way you hate it.”

Darling man. And bad Jessie Kay. Bad! Molesting him in public. “You do realize your business associates think you're slumming it, right? The computer mogul with the poor—but gorgeous—waitress.”

“I'm not slumming it. If anything, I'm stepping way out of my league.”

She smiled at him. “I'm loudmouthed, irreverent and just a little crude.” Also the girl with the bad rep. She'd been propositioned about a dozen times tonight. One guy asked her to sneak away to play seven minutes in heaven. Another patted her ass and told her how much he'd been missing it. Old insecurities had rolled in with a vengeance, and she'd realized liking herself wasn't just a one-time deal. She'd have to actively work at it for the rest of her life. “How are you, the perfect gentleman, not out of
my
league?”

He bent a little, coming down to her level, tucking his head into the hollow of her neck and she thought maybe...maybe he was giving her a hug. The kind he'd once claimed not to like. The kind he suddenly seemed to need more than air to breathe. “You are the sun, and I'm one of the lucky planets allowed in your orbit. Nothing and no one else exists for me.”

Oh, sweet heaven. Another item to check off the forever list. One she'd thought impossible.

Forget there are other women in the world.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked on a sigh.

“I know what I'd like you to do.” He kissed her where her shirt gaped at the collar, his hot tongue stroking her pulse. “Say you'll go deeper into the rabbit hole with me.”

Her heart, the traitor, skipped a beat. “I require clarification. Is ‘rabbit hole' a euphemism for sex or nerd-speak for the relationship you offered?”

“Nerd speak, but not just for the relationship.” His head lifted, his eyes hot with longing. “I want more data. I want to know everything about you.”

“You know the worst stuff already.”

“And the best, but I still want more.” He curved his hands around her waist, the heels of his palms resting on her hips, squeezing just hard enough to hold her in place. Lest she decide to bolt? “I want to know everything in between. The details are my drug of choice. Feed my addiction.”

Could he
be
any more romantic right now? “I— Well, I'm not sure where to start.” Tremors swept through her as she met his fire-ravaged gaze. This man...this beautiful man...wanted to be with her. He wouldn't use her for sex, disappearing in the bright light of the morning. He would stay in her bed, holding her close—enjoying her. But at the end of their two-month affair, he would still let her go.

“Start anywhere. I'll be riveted.”

“Well,
my
drug of choice is Taylor Swift and Carrie Underwood. Eargasm! When I finally get a pet, I'm choosing a feral cat that will love me and only me and try to claw the eyes out of everyone else. I'll name him Admiral Snuggles. Oh, and I hate hospitals as much as I hate spiders. They are palaces of pain, I don't care what anyone else says.”

“Guess what music will be playing in my room 24/7 from now on? And Admiral Snuggles is a name I can respect. I often refer to myself as Colonel Cuddles.”

Too adorable for words.

“Why do you hate hospitals?” he asked.

Easy. “As a kid, Brook Lynn underwent surgery after surgery for her ears. I would walk the halls as I waited for an update and I witnessed one person after another writhing in pain, spewing blood and other things, soiling themselves... I heard one person after another scream for help...and I even watched someone die.” She whispered the last part.

His arms tightened around her. “When Harlow was sick you went to see her. Twice.”

“Yes, but only because Brook Lynn was by my side...and I'd popped a few Xanax.”

“You should have come to me.” His hands slid up, up to cup her jawline. “I would have distracted you.”

Hardly. “You hated me back then.”

“Wrong. I hated my reaction to you. I wanted you, but I thought I couldn't allow myself to have you.”

“And now?” The question croaked from her.

“Now I'll do
anything
to have you.”

Not true. He wouldn't pardon himself.

He must have sensed the direction of her thoughts because he changed the subject, asking, “What's your favorite food?”

“Dessert.”

“Favorite
specific
food?” he amended.

“Sugar. No, chocolate. No, sugar.”

His lips quirked at the corners. “Do you prefer mornings or evenings?”

“Afternoons. Obviously. Not too early and not too late.”

“Fitting.” Chuckling, he leaned down to rub his cheek against hers, tickling her skin with the most delicious warmth. “If you had only one day left to live, what would you do?”

Besides make love to him, over and over again? “Brook Lynn and I actually talked about this one night. And because my sister is who she is, a zombie-believing list maker, I already have a game plan.”

“Do tell.”

“I'm going to withdraw every cent I have and give it to the local animal shelter. Then I'm going to update my Facebook status to ‘dead soon.' I'll take bets about how many likes I'll receive. Then I'm going to write postcards to all my friends and tell Brook Lynn to mail them a month after I'm gone so everyone thinks I'm writing from the great beyond. Oh, and my personal favorite, I'm going to find a Khal Drogo look-alike and get myself a very happy ending.”

West eased her closer, taking over her personal space, consuming her. “I could give you a happy ending tonight.”

Lightning bolts of need shot through her.
Stay strong.
“Sugar bear, let's be honest. You can't really handle me.”

“I just need practice.”

She gave him a
keep dreaming, buddy
look. “Tell me what you'd do if you were going to die in a day.”

“After I spent twenty-three hours in bed with you, giving you multiple happy endings?”

“Obviously.”

“I'd write up detailed instructions about where I want my surviving loved ones to spread my ashes...and every location will exist only in my video games.”

As she snickered, delighted with him, the song came to an end. Nooo! But she pulled from his embrace, despite her desire to remain in his arms, and cleared her throat. “Well. Thank you for the break, but I need to get back to work. Everything has probably gone to hell without me.”

“Jessie Kay—”

She hurried off before he convinced her to blow off the rest of her duties. As it turned out, everything had
not
gone to hell—boo, hiss—but had continued to run smoothly.

As she resumed her duties, her gaze constantly returned to West. Her prince and her tormentor. She lost her breath every time he looked her way, tension arcing between them.

He spoke with a group of young businessmen then moved off and winked at her. As she waved, a beautiful woman sidled up to his side. Jessie Kay slammed into one of the guests, spilling champagne over his jacket.

“Crap! I'm so sorry,” she burst out.

“Don't worry about it. It'll dry,” he replied with an easy smile. “You're the one who danced with Lincoln West.”

“Yeah. That would be me.”

“Are you two dating?”

“Wow. Get personal right at minute one, why don't you.”

“Sorry. Habit.” He held out his hand to shake. “I'm Dan Escada with
Other Worlds Daily
, a digital subscription for gamers. I'm doing a story on Mr. West and would love to speak with—”

“No comment.” She strode away and ended up handing her tray to another server. Who was the woman with her man? And he
was
her man, whether they were officially dating or not.

“Hey. Who's the witch with West?” Carol Mathis stepped in front of Jessie Kay. “Doesn't she know he belongs to you?”

Edna Mills, who stood at Carol's side, nodded emphatically. “I might trip her the next time she passes me. Accidents happen all the time.”

“You know I love your team spirit, but I'm not actually dating West,” Jessie Kay said.

“Pfft.”
Carol waved her hand through the air. “Anyone with eyes can tell you're both crazy about each other. And he's a Strawberry Valley boy now. He needs a Strawberry Valley girl. No one else is good enough.”

She wasn't wrong.

Jessie Kay watched as the hooker in question walked her fingers up West's tie.
Look away, look away. Don't you dare fly across the room and fight Dillon-style
. Also known as DDAK. Down-and-dirty ass-kicking.

Except, she had no right to throw a punch. West wasn't her boyfriend, she reminded herself. They'd made no promises to each other. And they wouldn't—unless she agreed to his terms. But dang it, agreeing to his terms would feel too much like surrender. Giving up. Saying goodbye to a chance for more. For better. But
not
agreeing to his terms would also feel like surrender. Zero chance for more.

“Oh, no, she did
not
molest his tie. Hold my shoes, Edna.” Carol removed a pump. “I don't want to slip when I boot that girl into the middle of next week.”

“I love you both but do not, I repeat,
do not
do anything to the brunette—not out in the open anyway.” Her gaze landed on Daniel, who waved her over. “I'm being summoned. Gotta go.”

She pushed her way through the crowd. Daniel greeted her with a hug before motioning to West with a tilt of his chin. “Do I need to feed that boy his own testicles?”

“Sweet of you to offer, but no.”

His date—a beautiful blonde—looked Jessie Kay up and down and offered a very fake smile. “Hello.”

“Kiki, this is Jessie Kay,” he said. “Jessie Kay, this is Kiki. You may not remember, but she used to live in Strawberry Valley.”

“I was in sixth grade and you were in eighth,” Kiki said, “but we had the same math class. Oh, and you slept with my boyfriend the summer of my junior year.”

I like myself. I do.

Daniel stiffened.

“Bobby Turner, right?” Jessie Kay shuddered with legit revulsion. “He told everyone he'd dumped you. He also secretly recorded the girls he banged so you should probably thank me. Anyway, you two enjoy the party.”

When she turned, Daniel grabbed her hand. “Stay. Kiki owes you an apology and—”

“No, she doesn't. And I can't stay. I have to tend to the guests.” She spotted her sister and Kenna in a far corner and closed the distance. In lieu of a greeting, she said, “When I get home, I'm soaking in the tub and burning West's tie.”

“Why?” Brook Lynn nudged her shoulder. “Did it say something to offend you?”

Kenna fought a smile. “I wouldn't worry. I've never seen a tie look more uncomfortable.”

Really? She glanced over, and yeah, okay, West—and his tie—radiated all kinds of tension. His posture was rigid, his legs braced for flight.

Brook Lynn wound her arm around Jessie Kay's waist. “Guess what I just found out? Tomorrow our girl-power group will be getting facials, massages, scrubs, painted and polished nails, and as a bonus our hair and makeup will be professionally styled.”

“There are only three days till Christmas, which means only two shopping days,” Jessie Kay pointed out. “Currently I've bought zero presents.”

“I know you. Tomorrow you'll wake up, tell yourself you've got one more day and end up doing nothing.” Brook Lynn gave her a squeeze, released her. “It's what you do every year.”

That was...kind of true. “Fine. I'm on board.”

“Why did you change the subject?” Kenna nudged Brook Lynn's shoulder. “Tie Whore needs a beating. Encourage your sister to give it to her.”

Jessie Kay wagged a finger in the redhead's face. “You want me to lose my temper so Brook Lynn wins the bet. Why? Has she offered to let you pick one of my outfits or something?”

“She has.” Kenna rubbed her hands together. “I'm trying to decide between a tie-dyed unitard and a hot- dog costume.”