chair. “I don’t like it. Makes me want to slap you to sleep, then slap you for sleeping. Someone say something before I go into detail about my last period.”
“Please say something,” West said, almost desperate.
Brook Lynn moaned. “Happy place, happy place.”
“Jessie Kay, why don’t you tell everyone about the indoor soccer team you’d like to start,” Harlow suggested.
Beck set his beer on the table with a clink. “You want to start a team? Have you ever played?”
“No, but I have plenty of experience knocking people around.” Jessie Kay threw a one-two punch at air. “I just need a coach...someone like West. His skill is—”
“Oh, no, no, no.” West shook his head for emphasis.
She ran her tongue over her teeth but still didn’t face him. “Why not?”
“We’d kill each other.” And, more important, he’d be on her before the end of session one.
“For all you know, I’m the next David Beckham,” she said, lifting her chin.
“Ball handling is not a skill you pick up like this.” He snapped his fingers.
Her gaze narrowed. Through a haze of fire and heat, a storm brewed, lightning flashing. “Well, good news. I’m already quite good at ball handling. Just ask your friends.”
He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth.
Brook Lynn moaned, once again hiding her face in her hands. “Happy place. Happy place.”
Beck choked on the drink he’d just taken.
Harlow rubbed him between the shoulders, saying, “Jessie Kay Dillon, you lock that snark up tight right this second. You know my he-slut likes to pretend I’m the only woman he’s ever been with. Reminders of past escapades only confuse him.”
Jessie Kay wilted, looking like the very picture of remorse and shame. “Sorry. My temper...”
Maybe she was a marshmallow.
“Wait. Did I just win our bet?” Brook Lynn vibrated with excitement. “Huh, huh, did I?”
“No! Are you kidding me?” Jessie Kay pointed her fork at her sister. “You wipe that smile off your face. The parameters of our bet say something has to be thrown. A fist, an elbow, even a handbag.”
“Insults can be thrown,” Brook Lynn insisted.
“They sure can, but I just complimented myself. Everyone heard it.” She flipped her silken hair over her shoulder, the feminine action making his gut clench. “Since West is being ridiculous, I’ll just hire Beck—”
“No way.” Beck shook his head. “I love you like a sister, but no.”
She tried again. “Jase will—”
“No, Jase will not.” Jase gave a more insistent shake of his head. “I love you like a sister as well, but it ain’t gonna happen.”
Jessie Kay released a heavy sigh. “Fine. I’ll hire a stranger. If he falls in love with me, stalks me and murders me when I refuse to return his affection, it’s on you guys. It’s just... I neeeeed an outlet for my...temper.” The most adorable blush spread all the way to the collar of her shirt. “Yes. My temper. You heard Brook Lynn doing her best to provoke me, right? She’s a dirty, dirty cheater, and I can’t allow her to beat me.”
How much farther did that blush go? How hot did it burn?
Need for her, now sharper than razors, scraped at West’s chest. He gripped the arms of his chair in an effort to fight the desire to reach for her.
Just one touch...
The waitress arrived a second later, handing out plates piled high with a chicken-fried-steak burger, smothered with cheese and gravy, tater tots on the side. She was a new hire, and he’d interacted with her a grand total of four times, but she smiled at him as if they were the best of friends. Something she hadn’t done during his last three visits. He wondered if she’d looked him up and found out how much he was worth.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
“Thank you,” he muttered.
“You are so welcome, honey.”
“Get a room,” Jessie Kay said under her breath.
The waitress pretended not to hear and bent down to whisper into his ear, “You want to put in an order for dessert? We’re about to sell out of our world-famous brownie pie, but I’ll put one aside if you’d like...”
“Yes.” His gaze returned to Jessie Kay. “I suddenly have a craving for something sweet.”
“Well, then, maybe you’d like a side of me instead?” With a wink, the waitress sauntered away to help another table.
Jessie Kay took a bite of her burger. Her eyes closed, and she groaned the most rapturous sound of satisfaction. “Is this the best thing I’ve ever eaten? No.” She scooped up a dollop of gravy with the tip of her finger and sucked it into her mouth. “But try to take it away from me, and I will cold-bloodedly murder you.”
West had to fight a sudden grin, oddly charmed by her brashness. Unlike the waitress, he’d never had to wonder about her motives. She enjoyed what she enjoyed, disliked what she disliked, and wanted what she wanted. Very little else ever factored into her decisions.
“Try to take it away from her,” Brook Lynn whispered to Jase. “Help me win the bet. Please, please, please.”
Jase’s brows winged into the locks of hair hanging over his forehead. “Victory is more important than my life?”
“At this precise moment? Yes!”
The way they were together, leaning into each other, totally at ease, playful, flirty, assured of the other’s affections, made West envious. Made him miss Tessa more than usual—her laugh, the way she broke into song at random times and danced around the room. He more easily forgot the hard times, when she’d sunk into a deep depression and refused to eat or leave their bed.
Jessie Kay bumped her shoulder against his. “Hey. You never spoke up at the arena. You are paying for everything, right?”
“Right.”
She raised her arm, signaling the waitress. “I’m gonna need one of these to go.” She gave her sandwich a little wave. “Oh, and a dessert of my own. The brownie pie, to be exact. And don’t try to tell me you’re sold out. Bad things will happen.”
“But—”
She hiked her thumb in West’s direction. “Everything goes on his tab. He insisted.”
“Sure thing.” The waitress pursed her lips and hurried off.
“Happy place,” Brook Lynn muttered.
“What?” Jessie Kay gazed around the table. “What’d I do this time?”
Brook Lynn heaved a sigh. “Just because someone else is paying doesn’t mean you should order the lobster.”
Those bedroom blues brightened. “They have lobster?”
“Happy place. Happy place.”
Jessie Kay threw a tot at her sister. “Hey! I love you, and my lifelong goal is to show you just how much, but that’s not going to stop me from shaking your brain out of your ear if you don’t tell me whether or not they have lobster.”
“They do not.”
Jessie Kay’s shoulders hunched with disappointment, and West had to fight another grin. She might not like him for his money, but she sure wasn’t afraid to spend it. Strangely enough, he liked her more for it. She didn’t give a shit about his opinion of her. A singular experience.
The