Misadventures With The Mistaken Twin (Big Sky Boyfriends #2)

Chapter 12

12

“I think we need to reevaluate the whole pillow down the middle of the bed arrangement,” Jack said.

We stood in Violet's kitchen eating take-out pizza. I choked on my bite of veggie deluxe. “The pillow berm?”

Jack eyed me and, while chewing, said, “Mmm.” He swallowed, and then added, “We don't really need it anymore, do we? I don't hate your guts anymore.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don't hate your guts anymore either.”

Jack raised his hands, palms up. “See? We can move on to make-up sex. I know you want it. You went on the offensive last night and took out the pillow blockade.”

I took a sip of soda trying to cool my lusty thoughts about how his body had felt beneath mine when I woke up this morning. Pretty damned good. The only way it would have been better was if we’d been naked. “How much do you want to?”

“Have make-up sex?” Jack had a hip against the counter. He wore dark corduroys and a long-sleeved T-shirt with a graphic of marlin fishing on it. “More than you can imagine.”

I was imagining it pretty darned well.

“With the pillows gone, is it sleeping in a bed with me or sleeping with me?”

“The non-sleeping version of sleeping with you.”

Heat flared low in my belly. “Why?”

Jack quirked an eyebrow. “Why? Because you're hot, you're you, and I've lusted after you since I was seventeen.”

Wow. That felt good to hear. And it only made me hotter.

I shook my head. “No, I mean, why now? You'll be leaving in a day or two.”

Jack nodded his head at the clarification. “True. But don't you want to live out all my horny teenage fantasies?” He took a bite of pizza and chewed, his gaze grazing over my entire body.

I gulped. “You've had fantasies about me?”

Shaking his head from side to side, he said, “I've had some where I strangle you for tricking me like that with your sister.” He held a hand up. “But since that problem's been resolved, the other fantasies where I rip your clothes off and do lots of naughty and illegal things to you move to the front of the line.”

Naughty and illegal things! Yes! I nibbled on the edge of my slice.

“Anything involving cock rings?” I asked, jokingly.

Jack chuckled. “Only if it includes you and a bed.”

I gulped. I couldn't help it.

“It's like ten years of foreplay,” I commented, noticing the room was getting very warm.

Jack's gaze dropped to my mouth. “Absolutely.” His voice had become low and dark.

I tossed my crust onto my plate. “God, Jack. No matter how much I want to”—I took a deep breath, the devil on my shoulder poking me with his little pointed staff as I said this—“you're leaving. I can't get all tangled up with you and then watch you go away again.”

Jack stood there quiet for a moment. “Yeah, I can see that. Doesn't mean I'll stop trying.” He lifted an eyebrow and smiled wickedly. “And since you’re into kinky, I have to tell you, I am too.”

I swatted his shoulder. His rock hard, well-muscled shoulder. Oh, crap. “I want you to try to control yourself.”

“I may not have the willpower. Just looking at you makes me want to do the caveman routine. Toss you over my shoulder, carry you to bed and fuck you until you don’t know your own name.”

“That's oddly flattering…and hot as hell.” On top of the heat, I felt my nipples tighten and my panties get a little damp.

Jack smiled. “I try.”

I put my plate in the dishwasher, put the soda can in the recycling container. I definitely wanted to have sex with Jack until I forgot my name. It would be hot and mind-blowing. I wanted him to jump my bones and have his kinky way with me. But I needed to play it cool. If he felt anything like I did—horny as hell—I wasn't sure if we'd be able to keep our hands off each other, his leaving or not. “Since we're not having sex, you can have the TV. I've got to work on something for Goldie.”

He grinned. “What kind of work?”

I took a deep breath, prepared to be picked on. “I've been forced by Goldie to write a romance novel. She says you're my muse.”

“With just a kiss?”

I pointed at him. “That's what I said.”

Jack scratched his head. “I like this muse idea. Maybe I should give you some story ideas. How hot is this book going to be?” He snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me into his warm body for a kiss. With tongue. Lots of it. Now my panties were really wet.

“You're still leaving,” I said, my voice rough, my breath coming out in little pants against his lips.

“Dammit.” He pushed me away, ran his hands over his mouth. “I'm trying to be chivalrous here, but you're too sexy to resist. I think I have to be your muse from a different room.” He walked away and I heard the TV come on. Basketball. Talk about a mood killer.

I survived a restless night's sleep with my muse beside me. I'd rebuilt the pillow blockade. My stacking skills must have been better than Jack's as the wall stood the whole night. I woke up on my side, Jack woke on his. I debated if that was a good or bad thing. It had felt really, really good waking up sprawled across him. Having a foot of pillows between us wasn't the same at all.

I'd stayed up late working on my ridiculous story and slept fitfully, dreaming about a romance hero ravishing a buxom beauty in the cabin of a steamship. The dream, the hot man in the bed with me, regardless of the pillow wall, and his plan to break down my sexual defenses, left me hot and bothered and tired. And longing for a spanking, a little nipple clamp action and a few man-induced orgasms.

While I finished up the work at his uncle’s house, Jack spent the morning with the electrician or on the phone yelling at someone, most likely in Miami. He stormed off saying he was going to pick out light fixtures and counter material at the local hardware store before he lost his mind. Being out of his line of fire was fine by me.

Based on his phone call, he would be flying out the next day. I tried to protect my heart from that moment. I'd enjoyed his company these past few days, glad we cleared the air about the whole Violet incident. But I would miss him. Okay, understatement of the year. I’d adjust. Hell, I’d been missing him for a decade and gotten along just fine.

Pushing any feelings for Jack aside, I got busy. I had a successful morning with the inspector, receiving the certificate for the plumbing work. All I had left was to come back and attach all of the fixtures Jack purchased once the kitchen was complete. I wrote up my final invoice and left it tacked to the door where Jack would find it.

Hoping to catch a quick nap before working at Goldilocks all night, I headed back to Violet's house. The sun was shining, painfully bright off the white snow. Parking the van out front, I was stopped by Old Mr. Chalmers. He wore a red and black plaid wool coat from the sixties, a black watch cap, his overalls and heavy black boots. He held his shotgun in his hands. That wasn't a good sign. I shut the van door behind me and smiled at Violet's neighbor.

“Hi, Mr. Chalmers. How's it going today?”

“I thought you said you had a man staying there.” He pointed the tip of the gun toward the house.

“That's right. Jack Reid.” I stood about ten feet from him, giving him plenty of room. I kept one eye on the barrel of the gun to make sure it didn't swivel my way.

“Then what was a woman doing in there?”

I looked at the house. I saw nothing remarkable. It was a squat miner's shack from the 1800s. White clapboard siding, miniscule front porch. Snow everywhere, piled up beside the walkways.

“Violet's back?” I was surprised as her conference was supposed to last a few more days.

“Nah, some other lady.”

I didn't have a good feeling. “What did she look like?”

“Blonde. Pink coat. She was in there for a few minutes, and then came back out. I shouted at her. She ignored me, so I shot her.”

We made our way up the walk to the front of the house. I stopped in my tracks at what he said. “Did you hit her?” I didn't see any blood. No body parts strewn about.

“Nah, scared the pants off her though. I don't think she'll be back.”

I carefully tilted the butt of the gun out of the way and gave Mr. Chalmers a hug. “Thanks for watching out for me.”

He patted my back through my jacket. “Ah, missy. Let's go see what she was doing in there.”

We went inside, closing the door behind us. It was habit to quickly shut doors, even with a room completely ransacked by a complete stranger. Didn't want to let the heat out, even if the bad guy could still be lurking about.

“Holy hell,” Old Mr. Chalmers said.

I looked around. Magazines were on the floor, pictures were crooked, the couch pulled away from the wall. None of that bothered me as much as seeing the top off of the snake terrarium.

“Holy hell,” I repeated. Jasper wasn't in his cage.

I hustled Old Mr. Chalmers out of the house faster than I'd ever moved in my life.

“I've got a problem,” I said to Jack over the phone. I sat in Old Mr. Chalmers' kitchen having some coffee. I had a feeling he'd slipped some whiskey into it as I was a little warmer than usual and was caring less about the escaped snake by the minute.

“Plumbing or personal?” he asked.

“That's a new take on the question. Usually I get 'personal plumbing problem'?”

I heard Jack chuckle through the phone. “I can help with that, too.”

I rolled my eyes. “I asked for that. Anyway, neither personal nor plumbing. Nor personal plumbing. Jasper, the snake, got out of his terrarium in Violet's house.”

There was a pause. “So just put him back.”

“Are you insane? It's a snake! I have no idea where it is in the house and...and it's a snake!” I was waving my arms wildly about as I talked.

“Okay. I see the problem,” he said calmly. “Where are you now?”

“Across the street with Mr. Chalmers.” I smiled at the older man sitting across from me, the shotgun resting on the scarred kitchen table between us.

Another pause. “He's not going to shoot at me again if I park out front, is he?”

I pondered that for a moment. The gun probably wasn't loaded anymore. “I'll make sure he doesn't.”

I heard a grunt, and then the line went dead.

Thirty minutes later, I was definitely tipsy and wired with caffeine. I heard a car door slam and I peeked out and saw Jack, leaning against a different rental. I didn't blame him for not approaching the house. Old Mr. Chalmers was all warmed up and ready to shoot again, if need be.

I gave the old man a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek before bundling back up and meeting Jack by the car. Snow squeaked beneath my boots with that sound it made when it was super cold.

He had a small brown bag in his gloved hand.

“How are you going to do this?” I asked, looking at Violet's house as if Jasper was watching from the window.

He held up the bag. “Mouse from the pet store.”

I gulped. Poor mouse.

Jack went into Violet's house and, for once, I was happily left out in the cold. Ten seconds later, he came back out and stood in front of me, his breath in big white puffs. “How big is this snake? Is it a python, because the house is a mess?”

“Boa constrictor. Brown, black stripes.” I held out my arms in front of me as if measuring the length. “Yeah, well, it's a mess because someone broke in.”

Jack stood there staring at me as if I'd grown a second head. “Broke in? You called me because you had a problem with a snake. You didn't think having a break-in was a problem?” His eyes darkened when he got riled up. I hadn't noticed that before.

I put my hands on my hips. “I wanted to tackle the most important one first!”

“Most imp—” Jack huffed out a big breath. “A loose snake is the most important?” He ran his hand over his hat covered head.

“To me it is!” I snapped back, hiccupping.

Jack stepped close, sniffed. “Have you been drinking?”

I held up my finger and thumb to show him a little bit. “I think Old Mr. Chalmers was trying to get me drunk.”

Jack smiled, finally showing beautiful straight teeth. Grunted. “Smart man.”

He left me, went back into the Violet's house, and closed the door behind him. I stomped my feet on the snow-packed ground while I waited for him to come back out. I half expected to see him come out screaming with a different kind of boa wrapped around his neck. A minute later he returned to my side snakeless.

“That's it?” I asked.

Jack shrugged his shoulders. “Now we wait.”

I looked at my watch. I had to be at Goldilocks. “I'm a little sloshed. Wait for what exactly?”

“I turned the terrarium upright and put the mouse in. Jasper will slither back inside for his little snack. It'll take a while to eat so he's not going to get out. I'll just put the cover back on then.”

“Huh. That's actually pretty smart. My hero.”

“Getting shot at, saving you from wild reptiles. All in a day's work.” Jack stepped close, leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Does this mean you'll give me a reward? Like discovering what color panties you’re wearing and whether or not they’re wet from you thinking of fucking me.”

I gasped at the contact of his lips brushing against the outer edge of my ear. And from the words. Holy hell, he was a sexy talker.

“Saving me from the snake is worth a kiss.”

“Just a kiss?”

“Just a kiss,” I confirmed, although I didn’t say where I wanted the kiss. “Now if it were a poisonous snake, I'd definitely help you live out a few of your fantasies and tell you my panties are yellow lace.”

Jack's mouth froze against my neck as he groaned. I could tell he was thinking about what I'd said. “Fuck, Miller. Now I’m hard and want to see them. As for the fantasy, is it the one where I put my mouth on your?—”

“No, that's one of my fantasies.”

Jack groaned again.

“Listen, I'm going to be late,” I said, knowing we could only banter. There was no way in hell I was going back into Violet’s house, even if it meant having sex with Jack. “Can you give me a ride to Goldilocks?”

“Sure. While you're working, I'm going to track down a rattler.”