Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Yardley’s was entirely too packed for this.

Oddly enough, Jen had been dumped at Yardley’s before, by her first boyfriend, at age fifteen. But she hadn’t expected to be dumped tonight by three-date Brad, of all people.

God. She’d shaved her legs tonight. For this?

Could she even be dumped if they’d only gone out three times? They weren’t an official anything. Which was exactly why she shouldn’t have signed up for that baking competition without asking him. Shit.

Jen tried to focus on Brad’s moving lips, her brain going to the sound of live music in the bar beside the main dining room. She squeezed her eyes shut briefly, trying to unscramble her thoughts, which had dulled by the two glasses of wine she’d had during dinner, then looked back at Brad.

“So let me get this straight. You brought me out to tell me you don’t want to keep dating me?” She stabbed her cheesecake with a fork, though she had lost any appetite she had for it. “You couldn’t have told me by text? Before you spent the whole evening talking like nothing was wrong?”

Brad shifted with discomfort, loosening the collar of his button-down shirt. He’d buttoned the top button, no wonder. “Look, it’s a lot of jumping through hoops. We can’t talk at night because you’re working or sleeping with your kid in the bed. I’m looking over my shoulder at all times because everyone has warned me about the sudden parking and speeding tickets I might get from your police officer brother. And then, this whole thing with that kiss? My mother was the one who called to tell me about it. What was I supposed to say to that?”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “You could have asked me what happened.”

Brad leaned forward. “She wasn’t the only person who saw it, Jen. And it’s not like people don’t know about you.”

What. The. Hell.

She envisioned grabbing her glass of water and tossing it in his lap. Her hand shook as she reached for it and sipped it, trying to take a calming breath. “It was a harmless kiss with a stranger. Because the crowd was chanting.”

“Three dates, well over several hundred dollars, and I can’t even get to second base. Now you’re telling me you were making out with a stranger to make people cheer? My mom said you looked like you really enjoyed that kiss.”

“Glad to know you were trying to buy your way into my pants.” She stood, yanking her purse from the back of the chair. She reached into her purse. The only thing she had was a fifty-dollar bill—her change from signing up for the baking competition before Brad arrived earlier that evening.

Her heart fell. Another fifty dollars she didn’t have to waste,down the drain. She threw the money on the table. “Don’t worry. I can pay for myself. Keep the change and make sure you give the server a good tip. Most people tip twenty percent, you know.”

Cheap asshole. She’d wanted to hide her face when she’d seen the last few tips he’d left.

Brad didn’t even look apologetic. “You’re not exactly a known catch, Jen. Everyone whom I’ve even told about dating you says I’m crazy for trying.”

Asshole.

Dammit, Dan. Warren, too, to a lesser extent. Her brothers had made her basically un-dateable. After the incident with Garrett the year before, Dan had sworn to never get involved in her love life again—but by then, the damage was too great. Dan beating up a man he thought she was interested in had made the rounds faster than she could control the spread. Her pathetic dating life had dwindled to online matches who lied on their profilesand guys like Brad.

Mad as she was at Dan and Warren, they were her brothers. They did it because they loved her.

Brad was just a dick.

She wished she could overturn the table and make a big scene as they did in the movies. For once, she wished she had the gumption to really put a jerk in his place. She’d been screwed over on one too many dates, by one too many assholes.

His panties were seriously in a twist because she’d kissed Jason during A Christmas Carol?

“Just so you know, maybe the reason I looked like I enjoyed that kiss is because that guy knew what the hell he was doing.” It was the only thing she could think to say. Her throat tightened, her lack of imagination frustrating her as much as Brad was. Instead, she turned and fled through the tables at Yardley’s, determined not to cry.

Brad didn’t deserve her tears.

She made it outside and yanked on her coat, so flushed with anger that she practically didn’t need it.

Brad had picked her up, and she was not going to have him drive her back. The heels of her nude pumps wobbled as she traipsed down the sidewalk toward Bunny’s. Travis would still be there—it was only a little past nine—and he’d drive her if she asked.

“You’re not exactly a known catch.”

Ouch. Not that she’d never had insults hurled in her direction, but why such vitriol?

Brad must have been furious about that kiss.

Angry enough to dump her without bothering to talk to her about it first. And be a first-class asshole about it. She could understand being bothered by the kiss, especially hearing about it from someone else. But the rest was unforgivable.

She hugged her arms to her chest. She was tired of all this. Tired of getting her hopes up. Tired of failing. Tired of being the girl who screwed up. Between the impossible standards of her brothers and being held to constant scrutiny, she would always fall short.

She hadn’t been the first woman to have an unplanned pregnancy with a deadbeat dad.

On days like this, she wanted to find Kevin, wherever the hell he was, and scream at him.

Whatever he saw in her that had made him leave, she couldn’t comprehend a reason he would skip out on even meeting their beautiful boy. Of all the ways she’d failed, that was the one that hurt the most: she’d failed to give her son a good daddy.

She couldn’t let herself continue going down that train of thought. Nothing good ever came from it.

The familiar bell on Bunny’s Café rang as she stepped inside. Most people couldn’t wait to leave their jobs when they were off. They didn’t spend their time off at work.

Travis was still behind the counter, wearing the bright blue uniform apron. After all these years of him stepping in whenever Bunny wasn’t around, it still made her laugh to see him in it. He was a mechanic and owned an auto detailing shop the rest of the time, a trade he had picked up from his father.

He frowned when he saw her and looked at the clock on the wall behind him. One dark eyebrow quirked. “What happened?”

Jen glanced around the café. Only a handful of customers were here tonight . . . their big rush was usually around lunch. Weekend nights attracted the occasional moms catching up over coffee and first dates, but rarely the dinner crowds.

She sighed and left her coat hanging on the coatrack. “I got dumped. If it counts after three dates.”

Travis winced, his warm brown eyes sympathetic. “Truth time?”

She nodded. It was their way of telling each other hard truths without the other getting offended.

“I didn’t like him anyway. Anyone who wears sockless boating shoes with pastel pants—there’s no coming back from that.”

A giggle erupted, and she curled her arms on the counter, pressing her forehead against the cool wooden surface. “Ugh . . . why do I always pick the worst guys?”

“Did you even like Brad that much?”

“No.” She chewed on her lip. “But right now, I’m willing to settle.”

“That’s your problem right there.” Travis pulled an éclair from the glass case and slid it toward her. “Be more like me. Miserable and alone, but completely confident in that decision.”

Her eyes met his, and she rolled them. “No. Your problem is you’re afraid of the girl you’re in love with. I don’t have that problem. I just have no one to love.”

She went behind the counter and grabbed a fork. Travis had shared his feelings about Lindsay with Jen years before, but they didn’t talk about it often. Travis and Lindsay had even hooked up once. The result? Now she could never hang out with her two best friends at the same time.

“I’m not afraid of her. I’m afraid of her family. And she’s afraid of mine. Until the Hatfields and McCoys decide to give it a rest, what chance do we have?” Travis grabbed a mug. “Latte or cappuccino?”

“Latte, thanks. And I think you’re both still being ridiculous. Also, if not her, I’m sure there’s a long line of women who’d appreciate you. If I met a guy who could fix my car and make me breakfast, I’d marry him tomorrow.”

Travis smirked. “You wouldn’t, though. Because despite your claims to the contrary, you don’t want to settle. You’re picky. You always have been.” The frother whirred to life, hissing steam and gurgling milk.

“According to Brad, I’m not that great of a catch.”

Travis’s face darkened. “What a prick.”

“He was mad because he heard from his mother that I kissed a guy during the play last night.” She summarized the situation with Jason briefly and added, “But it was nothing and meant nothing to me. He could’ve at least asked.”

Blinking at her for a minute, Travis studied her features. “I agree Brad was an ass. But...you’re sure it meant nothing?”

That warm feeling, the aching of her palms like her nerves were misfiring, resurfaced. Nothing. Jason, the douche who called for service and had hookups with strangers. Yeah, it meant nothing, right? “I’m totally sure.”

“Okay, well, don’t look now, but a guy is standing outside the café window looking at you. And for the last thirty seconds, I’m pretty sure he’s been trying to figure out whether to come in and talk to you.” Travis poured the espresso into the frothed milk and slid it toward her.

She couldn’t help but look. He was right. Jason was out on the sidewalk.

Their eyes met briefly, and she froze. Snapping her eyes back at Travis, she caught the hint of laughter in Travis’s expression. “Nothing, right? I told you not to look. Looks like he’s coming in.”

“What’s he doing here?” she muttered under her breath. She sipped her latte, wishing she hadn’t had that wine with dinner. It didn’t take much alcohol for her to get too chatty these days. Maybe the coffee would counteract it.

“He knows you work here.” Travis shrugged and walked back toward the kitchen.

“Hey, Jen.” Jason stood only a few feet from the doorway with his hands in his coat pockets. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

She turned toward him. “Well, I do work here. Except I’m not working today. I mean, right now. I was working earlier. And you know I work here, so I’m guessing maybe it might have occurred you’d run into me?” Yeah, she needed an upper. She took a big, hot swallow of latte, and it burned the roof of her mouth.

Choking it back, she tried to suck in some air to cool it down and looked around for a napkin. She coughed a few times, sputtering on coffee. Real elegant, Jen. Graceful.

Jason slid up beside her and pulled a napkin from the holder beside the register. He handed it to her. “You okay?”

She didn’t look at him as she tried to clear the coffee from her lungs. At last, she gave him a tense smile. “I may never taste anything again, but I’m fine. So what are you up to?”

“Just came to take a picture of the space I parked in yesterday. I don’t think it was marked clearly, and my lawyer wanted me to...” He trailed off as though he sensed he sounded self-indulgent. “It doesn’t matter.”

She wiped her mouth, checking her blouse. She’d dripped coffee on her shirt. A ticklish feeling spread to the back of her neck. She’d also worn a lower-cut top in case her date with Brad went in that direction. And,yup, Jason had noticed, too. His eyes cut from her boobs back to her face.

Great. “I-I was on a date,” she explained, as though she needed an explanation for why she’d dressed in a more revealing outfit.

“Were?” Jason checked his watch. He had more scruff on his face than the day before and it was sexy.

Oh, God. She was doing it, wasn’t she? Fumbling over her attraction to this casual-sex indulgent, just-passing-through stranger. Very bad. Stop it now.

“Yeah, well, it turns out when you kiss a stranger in the middle of the street while the whole town watches, the guy you’re dating doesn’t take it so well.” Jen flashed him a grin. “What can you do?” Travis came out of the kitchen and started cleaning the bagel toaster. The look on his face made it clear he had been intently listening.

Jason rubbed his well-defined jawline. Such a good jawline. She focused on his eyes as he said, “I’m so sorry. Want me to...talk to him?” He grimaced as he finished the sentence awkwardly, as though he knew it couldn’t possibly be a solution, but he felt obliged to offer anyway.

“No, it’s fine.” She released the words in a rushed breath. “He was a jerk anyway. And now I know.” Okay. Enough. Before she made a bigger fool of herself. She straightened, then reached behind the counter, helping herself to a plastic to-go container and a paper cup. She slid the éclair into the container and poured her coffee into the cup. “I’m going to take my dessert for one home. Maybe there’s some cheesy movie about a prince masquerading as a pauper in flannel at Christmas on.”

He smiled, and that hint of a dimple made her pulse do things it really shouldn’t be doing.

“In light of costing you a date, can I get you a drink?”

She popped the top onto the cup. She had a drink. Coffee. Something to sober her up, reminding her of her single-mom life and to move on. Her eyes darted to Travis.

Travis gave her a hard look, one she understood well. Go.

“All right.” Mistake. “Where to?” Mistake, mistake.

Jason looked over at Travis. “Where’s a good place for drinks? I went to some dive bar called The Bench the other night.”

“You should try Yardley’s.” Travis turned away again, but not before Jen caught the glimmer of furtive laughter in his eyes. “Just a short walk.”

She grabbed her coat again and slipped the boxed éclair into her purse. Grabbing the coffee, she called out a thank-you to Travis, then started forward, Jason a few steps behind her. No way in hell was she going back to Yardley’s fifteen minutes after one date with a new one.

Though she would pay to see the look on Brad’s face if he heard about it.

“I would offer to drive, but my car’s still at the impound lot.” Jason fell into step behind her. “I had someone drop me off in town.”

“It’s really not far.” Jen pointed down the block to Yardley’s, coffee cup in hand. The frigid December air was doing nothing to her cheeks. She examined the cup, her tongue still feeling scalded. Then she tossed it in a nearby trash can. She shouldn’t have wasted the cup.

She glanced at Jason. “Get your family situation figured out?”

“Not really.” Jason didn’t look at her, as if doing so would breach some cryptic code known only to him. “Things have actually gotten a bit more complicated.” He glanced in a shop window displaying a Christmas train setup. “They go all out on Christmas here, don’t they?”

“Yeah, it’s sort of a thing. Especially this year. You know. Parade of lighted boats on the lake, carriage rides, tree lightings. There’s even a couples-only baking competition in a few weeks, as cliché as it sounds.” One that she’d have to watch from the sidelines. “But you’ll probably be gone by then.” She hoped he’d correct her.

“Probably.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “Speaking of Christmas, I feel like I should apologize about that whole kiss last night.”

Was he purposely avoiding eye contact with her? He seemed embarrassed. No, that wasn’t it. “You didn’t make it happen. It’s fine.”

“But it ruined your date tonight.”

“Probably better in the long run.” She gripped the strap of her purse. “I don’t have a ton of time to waste on dates that aren’t going anywhere.”

His brow furrowed. “So dates with you are for serious contenders only?”

She grimaced, realizing how it had sounded. “I mean . . .” She bit her lip, trying to think of a better way to put it. Then she defaulted to her comfort zone. “Not all of us are experts at finding random partners the first night in town.”

Now the corners of his lips twitched. “Who says I’m an expert?”

“Aren’t you, though?” She flashed him a knowing look.

He shrugged. “Casual is easier. No messy goodbyes.” His gaze pierced hers. “You’ve never just . . .”

Her cheeks grew warmer. “Just what? Hooked up with a random guy?”

“Basically, yeah.”

She’d pretty much invited him to have a conversation about her sex life. This was why she needed to butt out of his. She shook her head. “Nope.”

“And how’s that going for you?” They got closer to Yardley’s, and the beat of the drums from the live band sounded into the night.

She stopped, cocking her head to the side. She should feel shyer than she did right now. Noticing her lips were dry, she dug through her purse for a lip gloss. “Honestly?”

Jason’s eyes followed the movement of her hands as she uncapped the lip gloss and applied it. “I wouldn’t want anything but.”

Was she really having this conversation right now? Maybe the fact that he was a stranger—a stranger she’d kissed—made it easier. “Honestly, I haven’t had sex in a really long time, and it’s driving me crazy.”

A satisfied smirk came to settle on his face. “See? Casual is better. You don’t have to wait for the ‘right’ person, if that even exists.”

She paused on the sidewalk and eyed him. “So you don’t believe in love and marriage and monogamy and all that?” All the things she was waiting for. Because you can’t afford to be selfish, Jen. Someone else is affected by everything you do.

He shrugged as they started walking again. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

Jen raised a brow. “You’ve been married?” He seemed too young to be divorced. But some people married young and divorced right away. Maybe that was what it really was: he seemed too fond of the bachelor lifestyle to have ever been married.

“A monumental mistake.” Jason stretched his shoulders back. They reached the door, and he held it open for her.

As she passed him into Yardley’s, she felt oddly thrilled to be coming back here with him. A hot, mysterious stranger in town? That she’d been seen kissing? Let them talk. She’d earned the right to have some fun after the crap week she’d had.

They went to the bar and ordered drinks, but there was standing room only. Finding a corner against the wall of coasters to stand near, Jen slipped her coat onto her arm. “Here, I’ll take that from you,” Jason offered. He hung both their coats at a nearby coatrack, then returned with their drinks. He nodded toward the coasters. “What’s that about?”

“It’s an old Brandywood tradition. When you’re an official couple, you go up there and tack a coaster with your names written on it. The owner leaves it up forever, so it’s not anything to be taken lightly. Think of it like the lock thing people used to put on Parisian bridges, sort of.”

“Except it annoyed the ever-living shit out of Parisians, and they were always cutting locks off and throwing them out,” Jason remarked dryly, clearly unimpressed with the sentimental gesture.

Trust him not to care about sentimentality. She twirled the stem of the glass of wine. She should have switched to something that would make her less woozy, but she might throw up. Watching Jason take a pull from his beer, she analyzed his features. What was it about him that made her feel so at ease?

“So how does the casual thing work?” she asked when he stepped closer to her. “One night, no repeats?” That was the situation with the woman the other night, right?

Jason gave her a questioning look. Then he smiled. He’d probably had braces because no one had teeth that straight. Slinging back another drink, he shrugged. “It would never work for you.”

Cocky bastard. She glared. “I didn’t say I was considering it.” She had totally been considering it, but he didn’t have to know that. A one-night stand might be exactly what she needed. Someone to make her feel wanted, who never had to meet Colby. She was smarter about sex than she’d been when she got pregnant.

And Kevin had taught her that being in a loving relationship didn’t stop the other person from walking out on you.

“You’re too set in your ways. You want romance. This isn’t romance. It’s just sex.” Jason’s eyes drifted over the names of couples on the coasters tacked to the wall. “That—that’s you. I bet you even have a coaster up there with your name on it, don’t you?”

Yep. She purposely avoided scanning the wall for the coaster Kevin had put up there. She sipped her wine. “I’m currently fifty dollars in the hole from entering that couples-only baking competition as a newly party of one. I’m willing to consider my options.”

Jason cringed. “You’re making me feel even guiltier about that kiss, you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be. I’m glad you kissed me.” Maybe it was the alcohol or the forced proximity, but she was enjoying the intimacy of their no-holds-barred conversation. “First decent kiss I’ve had in a while.” Without waiting for a reaction, she lifted her chin toward the crowded bar. “So show me how it’s done. How do you find your one-night stand in a throng like this?”

Jason stood shoulder to shoulder with her, facing the bar. “What makes you think I can teach you?”

“You’re the expert, remember?” She stared at the sides of her glass as she swirled the white wine around.

“You make it sound like I go around bragging about my exploits.”

True. She only knew about his behavior because she’d walked into his bathroom. And then pried. And pried some more. Before she could apologize, he went on, “It’s a look you exchange, you know?”

She almost choked on her wine. “No, I don’t know.” Had anyone ever given her that look? Her thighs tightened.

Jason leaned closer, his lips only inches from her ear, his breath warm on her cheek. “Okay, it’s a feeling. Like the two of you are all alone in the room, but you’re ready to find a place to tear each other’s clothes off.”

Oh...

Yes, she knew that feeling. She was having it right now.

She turned her face toward his, her chest growing tighter, her pulse faster. Her eyes dipped to his lips. “And then...”

A smile curved his full lips. “And then you go fuck.”

Her breath caught. Red-hot tingles shot up her spine, a warm flush spreading to her core.

He lifted his beer to his lips and took another drink.

She tore her gaze from him. Enough already.

They stood in silence, facing the bar together. Then she felt his fingertips brush against hers, his hand at his side, like hers.

His touch was like electricity, shooting goose bumps up her skin. But if he was touching her hand, she wasn’t imagining the chemistry between them either, was she? He had to be feeling it, too.

Or maybe it was because she’d practically demanded they talk about sex.

She shifted her hand away and turned her head to look over her shoulder at him. “You make it sound like it’s super easy. If I tried that, I don’t think I’d have a single taker.”

His eyes drifted over the crowded bar. “You mean to tell me that if you make it clear to one of these small-town guys that you want them to take you home tonight, they’d be foolish enough to say no? I call bullshit.”

She raised a defeated hand. “I’m serious. I don’t think they would.”

He guffawed. “No single straight man is going to tell you no. Hell, I bet even most of the married men would go for it. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?” He leaned closer, his lips so close to her ear that they practically grazed the sensitive skin there. She suppressed a shiver, her breath catching. “In fact, I’m willing to bet good money you could get a guy faster than I can find a woman to take home.”

When she turned her face toward his, he was tantalizingly close. She shifted her gaze from his lips. “How much?”

“How much am I willing to bet?” He grinned. “It wouldn’t work. All you’d have to do to win is not try, which is what you want anyway.” He paused, looking over her shoulder. “How about we do first person to find someone to take home wins twenty dollars instead?”

She held back a laugh. “You call that good money?” This was ridiculous to consider, wasn’t it? Except he made her feel daring. Alive.

“I call that not wanting to lose too much of my money on a bet I know I’m going to lose. You’re sexier than you seem to think, Jen. And it’s not that hard to talk a man into sex.”

The way he said it made her legs feel wobbly. But he might have a point. After all, it had been her rules that had kept her from jumping into bed with someone casually. “All right.” She raised her chin daringly. “But I have an advantage. These people know me on some level. Small town, remember? How do you know I’m not going to go find a friend and tell them about our bet so I can win your money?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “First, because that’s not the game we’re playing. Second, because you’re honest enough that you felt the need to admit that to me. Anyway, I don’t think you’ve convinced me you’re up for this anyway.”

Before she could answer, the band struck up loudly once again, making conversation more difficult. She didn’t know if she welcomed the interruption or not. Tapping her foot to the beat, she avoided looking at him. Was he right about her? Was she incapable of letting loose and having a fun, if forgettable, night?

Couples were making their way out to the dance floor, and she let her gaze wander over them. Who am I kidding?

Even if she was pretty, that still didn’t solve the problem of her undatable reputation in town because of Dan. Anyone considering taking her home for the night would have to be crazy. Unless they aren’t from around here.

She stepped away from Jason, more conscious than ever of his presence. She didn’t have to look back at him to feel his eyes trailing her as she circled the dance floor, pretending to examine potential partners.

But to her surprise, when she glanced up at him, Jason had one elbow against the bar, already in conversation with a pretty brunette who worked at the yoga studio.

“Goddamn him,” she muttered, pursing her lips. So much for him being attracted to her.

She tossed her long hair over her shoulder, looking at the men at the bar more earnestly, hoping to catch someone’s eye. Isn’t that how Jason said it was done? She paused by a row of high-top tables, feeling lost. This wouldn’t do anything to help her self-confidence.

Her gaze flitted toward the bar once again. Jason wasn’t there anymore, but the brunette was. Jen cocked her head to the side and scanned the bar, then the dance floor.

Jason wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

This is stupid.

She shouldn’t be here with him in the first place. And she’d turned a perfectly nice offer for drinks into this, once again screwing things up.

Jen looked for a clear spot on the bar to leave her wine. With one final swallow, she marched to the bar and set her glass down. Going back over to the coatrack, she searched for her coat. But Jason’s coat was still there. She turned to see Jason excusing his way past the crowded bar toward her. His eyes met hers, and he offered a warm, questioning look. “Are you leaving?” He leaned down toward her so she could hear him.

She straightened. “I just . . .” She shook her head. Trying to talk over the music was almost impossible. Should she admit defeat now? That he was right—she wasn’t cut out for finding someone random to hook up with?

The song ended, and the bar patrons clapped. As the music transitioned to a slow crooner, Jason curled his fingers against hers ever so lightly. He stepped closer. “Want to dance?”

There it was: that feeling of intoxication when he touched her, a flutter of nerves in her stomach. Grateful that he didn’t mention their bet, she nodded. “All right.”

His hand grazed the small of her back, his strong fingertips splaying against that sensitive area right above her waistline and settling there, gently. As he pulled her closer to him, her heart hammered wildly in her chest. If she was honest with herself, the bet had been dumb. Because she wasn’t a one-night stand kind of girl. Especially not to prove a point.

And her attraction to Jason was distracting her.

As they swayed to the music, Jason’s thumb trailed over her skin, right at the hem of her shirt. “I thought you’d already found someone to take home,” she admitted, hoping the stab of irrational jealousy she’d felt wouldn’t come through. She tilted her head toward the brunette at the bar.

Jason's cheek brushed her own, his hand tightening. “No, I asked her where the ATM was. You were giving up that easily, huh?”

She swallowed, her mouth dry. His featherlight touch on her back was making goose bumps rise on her skin. Not that he was just a stranger. She worked at the cabins and saw strangers all the time, especially at this time of year. And ever since Peter Yardley had turned into a celebrity, Redding Cabins were booked solid. Laura was even talking about expanding. Strangers were a part of her life.

No, there was something about Jason. And if she was going to be bold, she should do it with him. “Actually . . .” Her lips grazed his jawline. “It so happens I was already having a drink with the guy who caught my attention.”

His hand stilled, his body close enough to hers that she felt the taut muscles of his stomach stiffen as he slowed them to a stop. “I’m not a good option for you, Jen. You’d get hurt.”

“Then why are you dancing with me?” She tipped a smile at him, drawing her face back so she could scan his eyes as she led him back into the dance.

His expression was guarded, his movements less fluid. “Because a beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be on the sidelines of the dance floor, especially when I cost you your date tonight.”

She laughed, not buying it. Whatever chip he had on his shoulder that made him occasionally ruthless and insensitive, he’d also shown a different side. She pushed her hips closer to his and felt her confidence level climb. Even if he didn’t want to admit it, his arousal was clear. She tugged at his earlobe with her lips ever so gently, feeling sexier than she had for years. “So if I told you I wanted you to take me home, you’d say no?”

She recognized a few couples on the dance floor eyeing her and gave them a satisfied smile. Let them talk.

Jason groaned, sucking in a shallow breath. “And you think you don’t have what it takes.” His palms clamped her hips as they swayed. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

“Three glasses of wine. Over two hours, though.” Her eyes locked with his. Did he think she was going to regret the decision later? “I’m not drunk, Jason. Besides, I’m only talking about one night. And then you can forget me, right?”

She’d had enough to drink to make some bad decisions. But she welcomed the decrease in her inhibitions tonight. It was fun, and she was so tired of being “undatable Jen” and playing by the rules.

He released her and stepped back, scanning her face. After a moment, he gave a taut nod, his face unreadable. “Right. If you’re clear that’s all this would be.”

As though he wants to prove I’m forgettable. She shrugged. “That’s all it would be.”

He pulled out his phone. “I have to call a ride.” A few taps of buttons and he was pushing his phone back into his pocket. “Two minutes. Ready?”

She grabbed her coat and followed him out the door, because why not? Colby was safe with her mom, and she wanted to feel like a sexy woman, not just a mom. And I shaved my legs.