Candy Corn and Cocky Kisses Page 4

  Jenny jerked her gaze back to her best friend. The gleam in Alexis’ eye left no doubt exactly what the bribery entailed.

  Confession time.

  “Uh, Alexis?” Jenny lowered her voice. “I think I just had sex with Brad.”

  “You think what?”

  * * * * *

  Brad balanced both waters in his good hand and a napkinful of candy corns in the other, heading toward Jenny. When he saw her talking with Alexis, he debated whether to keep walking or go back to the docks and swim home.

  The gig was up.

  Since when am I a chicken shit?

  Wondering why it felt like his heart was being carved into pieces, he kept moving forward. It had to be that they hadn’t had enough sex. That was all. More sex and then he’d feel comfortable revealing his identity. Perhaps he should tie her up for that?

  When he reached them, Jenny whirled around, her eyes shooting flames. Without a word, she took the drinks from him and tossed them both in his face. Thank God for small ice cubes and eye patches, he thought, feeling a multitude of pings bounce off his head The glasses crashed to the floor and she fled.

  Brad gasped, near-freezing water running down his face and watched helplessly as Jenny ran from him like he was a marauding, life-sucking pirate in truth. Which maybe he was.

  Murmurs erupted around him. His ex and her new lover stared at him.

  He blinked and used a corner of the napkin to dry his face. Okay. Maybe he deserved that but Jesus—what kind of way was this for him to break back into society?

  Damn, he was an ass. Or maybe the operative term was egotistical self-centered blond ass.

  His gaze landed on Alexis and Nate. “You told her.” It wasn’t a question.

  Alexis poked him in the chest. It didn’t feel nearly as good as it had when Jenny had touched him. Oh God. What had he done?

  “And you didn’t?” Alexis shouted. “Still the same old Bradley?”

  “No. I’m not but—” His head jerked around, following Jenny’s exit. “Forget it.”

  He took off after her.

  “Not so fast.” An oil-stained hand snagged his arm.

  “What’d you come as tonight?” Brad asked, pissed at the interruption. “A grease monkey?”

  “Leave Jenny alone,” Nate growled, not rising to the bait. “You’ve done enough damage.”

  Brad shook himself free and looked at Alexis. “I…”

  What could he say? That he liked her? That he hadn’t known exactly how much until seeing her walk away? How pathetic was that?

  Hell. “I like her.”

  And it wasn’t just about sex. He’d never had trouble getting laid, could probably find another two—or three—women to join him if he was so inclined but he wasn’t.

  It was all about how Jenny had looked at him—just before throwing the drinks in his face—and how that look made him feel.

  Brad wasn’t sure what it was but he damn sure wanted the chance to find out. Which he couldn’t do if they didn’t let him go after her. “I like her, dammit.”

  Alexis’ eyes searched his, as if verifying the truth of his words. “Jenny’s been hurt enough in her life, Brad. Hurt badly. So please, she doesn’t need the likes of you.”

  Hurt? “Her hand?”

  Or something else?

  Everything in him turned to stone at the possibility. Disgust curled through him—directed straight at himself. He would never harm a woman physically but Jenny was right. An ass was an ass by any name. And he was an ass.

  At least, he had been. But no more. He liked her too damn much to let this just blow by.

  “She told you about her hand?” Alexis asked incredulously.

  Smugness straightened his spine when Nate stepped back. “She did.” Alexis didn’t have to know how little Jenny had actually shared. “And now if you two will excuse me, I have some explaining to do.”

  Alexis watched her former fiancé storm off and turned to Nate with eyebrows raised. “Well, what do you make of this? Jenny and Bradley?”

  Nate tugged on her frilly apron. “I think I’m in need of more bribery.”

  Alexis dimpled. “Mother’s solarium?”

  * * * * *

  Shipwreck, her ass. He’d been in a rollover. Blood alcohol level point one five.

  Jenny had known all that. She was smart. Why hadn’t the pieces added up?

  Because she didn’t want them to?

  And where in the hell did she think she was going? She couldn’t drive after the way she’d been drinking.

  But still, her feet couldn’t cover the distance across the long-ass driveway fast enough. Cold, damp air pricked her skin—tears of frustration slowed her down. Jenny hugged her chest against the pain, hating herself at the moment and kept walking.

  She’d practically slept with Brad. Brad!

  Worse, if it wasn’t for her pride, her career, she’d go back and do it again. And again.

  Heavy footsteps chased her but she refused to slow, refused to look back. What if it was him?

  What if it wasn’t?

  Jenny ignored how frozen she felt—inside and out—and kept half-walking, half-running, wondering if she had the stamina to make it the five—

  “Hold up, Jenny. Please. Let me explain.” The footsteps got louder and she crossed into the grass.

  Fifteen miles or five hundred miles, she didn’t care. Jenny kept running, then stumbled. Stupid designer shoes.

  Two hands clasped around her waist and forced her to a halt. No.

  He set her on her feet and she whirled around and karate-chopped his forearm. Then landed a swift kick to his shin and stomped his toes.

  “Whoa there,” he grunted, making no move to defend himself. She saw that he’d removed his hat. The black bandana and eyepatch were gone too but his goatee and shirt were drenched.

  “Whoa, Candy. Those heels pack a punch.”

  “Don’t Candy me! Don’t touch me!” Jenny screamed for all to hear. One more thing she’d learned in the past few months—always defend yourself and always do it loud enough to wake the dead. Or zombies—she wasn’t particular. “Don’t even think about laying a hand on me.”

  Brad wasn’t deterred in the least. His arms wrapped around her, drawing her face snug against his chest. “Hey, calm down. I’d never hurt you.”

  His smell was intoxicating—fine cologne mixed with the heady scent of sex. Their sex.

  Not hurt her? Oh yeah, she believed that. He was just wanting to shift gears.

  “Brad Linsey.” She twisted free, irate. How could she still want him? She didn’t! “Don’t you dare touch me. You may be angry with me but that does not give you the right—”

  “Angry? I’m not angry, baby. I’m sexually frustrated and seeing you tonight has only made it worse.”

  She took a deep breath and glared at him. White-blond hair atop what should have been a ridiculous beaded beard. Even in the golden light of the streetlamps, with a fine mist coming down, it was so obvious—Captain Jack Sparrow. Brad.

  How could she not have seen it?

  “Me? How do I make it worse?” The rest of his sentence registered. “It’s your own damn fault if you’re sexually frustrated. I offered you a blowjob. You didn’t want it.”

  “Sure I did. Still do.” The ass smiled. “But more than that, I want you.”

  “Want in one hand, buster, spit in the other. See which one fills up the fastest.”

  “Oh, Jenny. Candy.” He had the audacity to laugh at her. Then he brandished a white napkin. “Here. A pirate always shares his bounty.”

  “Are you kidding me?” She took the makeshift bag from him and shook the cloth with fury. Tiny candies went flying.

  “Mature, Jenny. Real mature.” He wasn’t laughing anymore. “Talk to me—”

  “Don’t give me mature. I know how you treated Alexis. I heard what you said about shifting gears and slamming into me. You tricked me because you resent me.” Enlightenment came swiftly. “I’ll bet you s
et this up because you know I’m the prosecutor on your case next week.”

  “Huh?” He stared at her, dumbfounded.

  “See? Get lost.”

  She spun away but his hand latched on to her shoulder— just enough to ask that she stop. Which she did. For some stupid reason.

  But she refused to face him.

  “Jenny, please. Give me a minute.” He urged her into his embrace, cradling her so that his pelvis rested at the small of her back.

  “It sounds like I have more explaining to do than I knew. God, I’m sorry.” His arms tightened around her.

  Jenny blinked moisture from her eyes. It was the mist. It had to be. Brad wasn’t worth crying over.

  “I’m sorry you ever had to hear me talking like that. I’d love to claim that Tom was a bad influence but…”

  She waited, waited for him to make excuses. Watched as his arms loosened, he gestured helplessly, then wrapped them around her even tighter than before. “No excuses, Jenny. I’m sorry. The accident made me face up to a lot of things in my life and I think you’re making me face the rest. I haven’t always respected women like I should. But I respect you.”

  Bullshit. She wanted to scream but couldn’t, not when he had leaned his face over her shoulder and tucked his mouth near her ear, nuzzling her remaining candy corn. It started misting harder and her tears came faster. She curled her lips over her teeth and bit down, refusing to respond.

  “And about my court date…I didn’t even realize you were the prosecutor, God’s honest truth. I’ve been trying to forget all about that appointment. And I don’t care—prosecute the hell out of me. I deserve it.”

  It was her turn. She broke free of his hold and faced him. “Huh?”

  “Like I told my lawyer, I’m facing the charges. Guilty. But I want to talk about us.”

  She sputtered, “Get real—there is no us.”

  “I don’t know how to say this but there’s something with you, a fire I’ve never felt before.”

  Jenny rolled her eyes, glad her bangs hid the remnants of tears—tears that had dried up quickly. She’d been right. Give him enough rope and he hung himself. “That polished line won’t get you back into my pants, buster—”

  “You aren’t wearing pants,” he had the gall to remind her, sliding his hand down her hip and beneath the hem of her dress where his long fingers pressed tantalizingly close to the hole he’d recently created—then invaded—in her candy corn-covered stockings.

  She jerked away. His touch felt too good to let it continue. “Under my dress, then. And I’m not going to be the latest in your long line of lady loves. That’s not—”

  “That’s not what I’m after,” Brad said with an intensity that floored her. “I haven’t been with another woman in months. You don’t have a reason to believe me but it’s true.”

  She could feel herself softening and hardened her resolve. “You knew it was me all along, didn’t you?”

  Guilt suffused his face. She waited for the lie.

  “Yeah, my plan tonight was to fuck you and leave you.”

  That hurt, hearing it out loud.

  Lies might have been better.

  “But something happened back there—” Brad gestured toward the docks. “Even earlier, when we started talking…kissing…”

  “You just came to the party to get back at me.”

  “No! You’re wrong.”

  Four revelers laughed loudly as they came running out of the house, hanging on each other and Brad swore, lowering his voice. “I came because it’s a worthy cause. And it was time I stopped hiding from my life.”

  Crap. Had he stolen the sentiment straight from her brain?

  The boisterous group neared and Jenny saw three men groping the lone female who swayed among them.

  “Lovely party, isn’t it?” The woman drawled in a bit of a drunken slur and Jenny recognized her as Shirl from the boat. And now she had three men?

  “Just lovely,” Jenny gritted, stepping back. She’d heard enough.

  Brad matched her action, stepping forward, looking more confused than she was. “I-I want, no I need, to see you again.”

  See her again? Like a date? The man she’d secretly wanted since forever was actually asking her out? The man who’d inspired the “Mrs. Jennifer Linsey” doodles on her biology text wanted to date her?

  Jenny thought about it. She thought about the reality of having sex with Brad versus the fantasy of thinking about having sex with him—her fantasies paled, by far—versus the reality of men who used force to get what they want.

  That was a reality she had no use for. Brad might not be physically abusive but neither was he the man for her. Her head knew that, her heart should know that but why was her body clamoring for her to jump his bones and kiss him again?

  Damn his sexy pirate costume.

  No amount of therapy covered this type of situation. What do you do when the man you want wants you back but you know he’s no good…even when your heart thinks he’s perfect?

  At her silence, he picked up her hand and held it between them, caressing the back of the fragile bones. Bones that had been broken not fourteen months before by a man who professed to love her. Brad only professed to want her. “Well? Will you go out with me?”

  “You want to date me? Have sex with me again?” Jenny turned his hand over, palm up. Then she leaned forward, twirled her tongue around her mouth, breathed deeply and dropped a stream of saliva right in the center. “There’s your answer.”

  With that, she turned around and walked off, leaving the sexiest blond pirate who ever walked the face of Manhattan standing in the middle of the Tarletons’ front yard with his palm full of spit.

  Chapter Four

  Tricky Together

  Prosecute the hell out of me.

  It might not be professional of her but Jenny was tempted. Enticed by the possibility of riding Brad hard—and not in sexual way.

  He deserved it, the sleazeball. Leaving three messages on her machine—one for every day since The Incident—asking for a date. Not quite pleading but definitely cajoling, his requests were slowly disintegrating her defenses.

  But only if she let them.

  She toyed with the edge of his case file, tormenting herself, as she’d done for hours. Act professional? Or don’t?

  Follow her heart? Or cram it into a deep hole in her chest?

  There’s a fire with you I’ve never felt before.

  Her office phone rang, interrupting the torture session. Picking up, she answered mindlessly. “Jennifer Beckman.”

  “It’s okay,” Alexis decreed, sounding chipper.

  Jenny’s finger motions skidded to a halt. “What?”

  “It’s okay if you want to see Bradley,” Alexis told her. “In fact, I think you should. He wasn’t right for me. I wasn’t right for him. But I think he’s changed.”

  What?

  Was Alexis on drugs? See Brad? The suggestion was ludicrous. Absurd.

  Tempting.

  Jenny straightened. “What makes you think I want to see him?”

  “You’re my best friend. I know you, Jenny.”

  She snatched four candy corns from the dish on her desk and practically swallowed them whole. Gagging, she said, “Then you know I don’t want to see any man.”

  “I know you want to heal,” Alexis’ voice softened. “To get over that bastard beating you up.”

  Cry mercy! Jenny squeezed her eyes shut, willing away the memories that invaded her at the reminder. The fist pounding into her face. The foot in her ribs. The bones in her hand cracking and popping as they were crushed—the most sickening, terrifying sound she’d ever heard.

  She’d never cry mercy. Never!

  “You’re not truly over it, until you learn to trust men again. Until you’re dating again,” Alexis continued. “You’re still letting Carter pull you down.”

  Jesus. What the hell was happening? “And you think seeing Brad will help?”

  “I don
’t have the answer to that but I think you do. Brad called and—”

  “You guys talked about me?” Jenny hated the sick feeling that gave her but she liked the way Alexis emphasized his name—like maybe Jenny wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the difference in him.

  “No. We talked about us. Put the past to bed.”

  That language sparked a laugh. “So to speak.”

  “I love you, girl. Give him a chance and let me know how it goes. Bye.” And Alexis hung up.

  The phone still cradled against her ear, Jenny stared at the case file. Her inner war, her battle against men, was over. It had to be. She’d liked Brad too long, too much, to deny herself the chance.

  She knew what she had to do.

  More importantly, she knew what she wanted to do. Picking up the file, she marched into her boss’s office.

  * * * * *

  Where the hell was Jenny?

  He’d been looking forward to seeing her kick butt in the courtroom, looking forward to seeing her. To standing up in court and proving to her that he’d changed. To getting on his knees if he had to and securing another date.

  He thought of the driver’s license no longer in his wallet. Terrific. Just the way to impress the lady.

  Just what he deserved.

  It’s only for six months, he consoled himself, knowing it was fair punishment and that the alcohol counseling and community service he’d been sentenced to would only make him stronger.

  Brad shook hands with his lawyer, glad the legal proceedings were finally over but more determined than ever to find her. Reaching the ground floor, he exited the courthouse—

  And there she was, not ten yards away. His very own pirate wench come to life.

  “Nice outfit,” he called out. His eyes swept over her. Dressed in a short frilly black skirt with a brilliant red bodice laced over a puffy-sleeved blouse, Jenny leaned against a huge stone pillar looking sexier than ever. A red bandana tied at the side of her head tamed a portion of the curly hair flowing wildly around her shoulders.

  Ahoy mates. He’d died and gone to pirate heaven.

  He didn’t get it. First she spits in his hand, then she shows up at his court date, dressed like a fantasy? His fantasy?

  Or was it just a coincidence? Brad looked around. Was it another guy?