Mira Kelly Lyn

Wild Fling or a Wedding Ring?


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was—”

      “A better kiss?” he asked, flashing the easy smile that had gotten her into this situation in the first place.

      “You’re a charmer.”

      He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Yeah, and you’re standing on my foot.”

      Cali jerked back, coming up short against the booth wall, before righting herself with the help of Jake’s hand at her waist. “Sorry.”

      “Not a problem, but we should probably get out of this booth before some schmuck’s phone battery dies and our luck runs out.”

      She glanced up at the ceiling, feeling the flush of embarrassment heating her cheeks. “Flee the scene of the crime and all?”

      Jake caught her chin with a crook of his finger and tilted her face to look at him. “I’ll take you home so we can do this right.” His gaze held steady, intense and hungry.

      Her breath hitched at the thought of what he could do on a bed, if given the chance.

      “Jake, I can’t have a relationship.”

      He shook his head, letting out an ironic laugh. “And, trust me, I can’t give you one. But tonight…I could give you tonight.”

       Just one night?

      A quiet ping sounded from the floor, piercing the lustinduced fog of her brain. Oh, no, it was a message alert from her phone. The phone so carelessly dumped with her clutch on the floor when her hormones had skidded out of control on a collision course with Jake.

      Her link to Amanda, to her job, to her future, was a hair’s breadth from being trampled! A few hours with this man and her focus was shot. What if she gave him a full night? She already knew the answer to that. It wouldn’t be enough. With a man like Jake she would want more.

      She kicked the small bag out of the booth toward the safety of the abandoned hall, and then, forcing the air from her lungs, pulled free of his gentle hold and voiced the words that would hurt to say. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

      Jake’s brows drew down, his features hardening as he inched back to let her pass. “Cali, wait—hold on.”

      She shook her head, scooping up the bag with her phone and holding them close to her chest. “I wish—” But that wouldn’t do any good. Pinching her lips between her teeth, still tasting him on her tongue, she shook her head and ran from the club as if temptation itself was on her heels.

      CHAPTER THREE

      AWARENESS crept in, staking daylight’s claim over her consciousness, shooing away the hazy bliss of midnight’s oblivion. Within her hotel room, Cali fixed her gaze on the ceiling above her.

      She’d done it in a phone booth. Almost.

      In the deserted back hall of a jazz club.

      With a man she’d just met.

      It was totally a one-night stand.

      Okay, so she hadn’t had actual sex. A technicality. They’d been standing. And it had been one night. One incredible night, topped off with an incredible kiss that flamed so far out of control it had passed X-rated—and by the time it finished, so had she.

      Wow. It definitely counted.

      A one-night stand. Something “good girls” were supposed to regret. Not wake the next day feeling refreshed, rejuvenated, and all around delighted to have cast their morals aside.

      The “morning after” was supposed to be a miserable, hollow, shame-ridden experience. She’d heard it from a variety of reliable sources. But by the time she’d found her shoulders braced against the wall of the tiny phone booth, with Jake’s kiss coursing through her veins, she’d been more than willing to accept the consequences.

      Only now, snuggled into her so recently sated skin, Cali couldn’t seem to muster even a smidgeon of remorse. Maybe she’d get there someday, but as of this glorious morning Jake Tyler had been the best exception to a rule she’d ever made.

      After a three-year self-imposed dry spell, he’d been just the kind of no promises, no risks, no regrets tall-glass-ofwater Cali hadn’t even realized she’d been thirsting for. And now, quenched as she was, she could take on the Chicago assignment and knock the ball right out of Wrigley Field.

      Finding a spot of too-cool sheets, she curled into herself, pulling the heavenly comforter tight and letting her mind slip back to the night before. To the deep blue-eyed gaze that had kept her pinned to her seat for hours longer than she’d planned to stay out. The warm, easy laugh that had slipped past her defenses and sent unexpected heat swirling low in her belly.

      That rapturous kiss.

      God, his mouth was phenomenal.

      And the rest. Yum.

      Still staring at the ceiling, Cali let out a wistful sigh.

      No-harm recreation at its best. The one-night distraction by tall, dark and devastating had been sensational.

      She should be ashamed, but couldn’t quite summon the energy for it. She’d never see him again. There was zero chance of this man ruining her career. It was bittersweet perfection.

      At least it would be if she could forget the look on his face when she’d run like a fool from the club.

      Flopping the comforter back with a groan, she emerged from her warm cocoon.

       Shake it off.

      A quick glance at the clock told her Amanda’s beloved brother-in-law was due within the hour, to take her over to her new place.

      Her teeth set as she blew out a steady breath. Time to shift gears and get moving.

      Stepping into the shower, she hoped the hot spray and lemon-sage lather of shampoo would wash her mind clean of all things Jake—there wasn’t time to get caught up in a crush, no matter how gorgeous or funny or intelligent—No! The man’s pure perfection stemmed from the fact that he’d been little more than a ship passing in the night.

      Wait, not a ship. A sleek, sexy speed boat, whose wake had rocked her world.

      Sure. Just one kiss. What was the harm in one tiny kiss after three years of going without?

      Ha. Well, now she knew.

      There would be no forgetting him.

      She toweled off, with images of glinting eyes and a hardplaned chest pressed against her teasing her resolve. Ponderings of how different her life might have been if she’d been with a man like Jake three years ago in Boston instead of with Erik.

      That was nonsense. When Jake had asked to take her home, she’d fled from the man. Imagining him in her life in any capacity other than as the exciting one-night spectacular exception he’d been was crazy. She wouldn’t. Definitely not. No matter how much he’d made her laugh. Want.

      Agitated, she jammed her legs into a pair of jeans, then pulled a periwinkle and white halter over her head. As if in accordance with her mood, her curls had gone particularly wild that morning, requiring that she gather them at the nape of her neck with a leather tie. A dab of lipgloss and done. Satisfied with her look, she was just tossing back a glass of water when three hard knocks sounded at the hotel door.

      A smile broke out across her face as excitement welled within her. Forget about blue-eyed bar heroes. On the other side of that door was Amanda’s brother-in-law, Jackson, here to deliver her to the rest of her life—or at least to the sublet where she’d live while she worked her butt off nailing this job for Amanda. It was go-time.

      Barefoot, glass in hand, she darted over to the door and pulled it open wide. “Hey, give me one minute…”

      The rest of her words died on her tongue as she gasped at the sight of Jake Tyler, casual in worn denim and a cuffed button-down, leaning with one arm