Holly glanced over, but all she could see was a long-limbed, gazelle-like girl reach into a cooler and pull out a beer. “What?” Holly asked.
“Black Horn? That’s Jacob’s brand. Which means that lithe little honeyslut is about to make her way over to your man, drop herself in his lap, and give him something refreshing to remember her by. Is that what you want?”
Holly could feel the horror creeping up her face. “She will?” she asked blankly.
“That’s the way these girls operate. Trust me. Go. Intercept her. Unless you want to smell her on him when you snuggle up tonight.”
Red-hot, irrational rage spiked through Holly at that thought. Like a bull charging a matador, she tightened her jaw and stomped over to the porch.
She could smell the smoke from Brent’s cigarette as she got closer; then she could hear the low rumble of their voices. “Y’think Major learned his lesson, boss?” Brent asked.
“Let’s hope,” Jacob murmured back.
The honeypot must have been intent on her purpose, because she nearly collided into Holly. “Oh!” the younger girl chirped. “Crap, sorry. You scared me.”
Holly smiled. A smile similar to the one she wore for her students when she had to answer the same question for the thirtieth time in a row. “May I have that?”
The girl looked down to the Black Horn bottle in her hands and her forehead furrowed. “But I was gonna give it—”
“Thank you,” Holly said and plucked the beer from her, carrying it up the porch.
The conversation between the boys dimmed as Holly approached. Their heads turned to her and she offered a smile, hoping it didn’t look nervous. Jacob’s dark eyes softened when they met her.
“Hey, princess,” he said, and she suddenly wanted to curl up in the warmth of his lap, his voice like the low burn of a fireplace. “You okay?”
She nodded dumbly, suddenly feeling like a shy, doe-eyed teenager frozen at the cool kids’ cafeteria table. Especially when she realized she’d left her shoes on the back porch and was now standing in front of them with grass-stained bare feet. She thrust his bottle of beer out in offering. “I thought you might be thirsty.”
Over the porch rail, she could see the lanky honeypot shoot her a glare.
The corners of Jacob’s eyes crinkled in (endeared? She hoped?) surprise. “You thought right.”
“Where’s mine?” Brent complained.
“Put a ring on my finger and I’ll get you a beer,” Holly said with a smile as she started to twist the cap from Jacob’s Black Horn.
“I think I like this one,” Brent said, wagging a finger towards her as he turned back to Jacob. “Y’can keep her.”
“I plan on it,” Jacob said. The cap bit into Holly’s palm and refused to budge, which was when Holly realized that it was most definitely not a twist-off. She needed a bottle opener. Which was, no doubt, tucked away in the pocket of a very smug, lanky honeypot.
Holly felt a crimson blush rising in her cheeks. Shit…
Jacob seemed to notice her plight because he cupped his hand over the top of the bottle and said, “Mind if I give it a try?” She released her grip and he twisted his palm over the top. The bottle fizzed open under his strong grip and he lapped the foam from the top.
“Y’think that’s brutal, you should see him open one a’ those with his dick,” Brent said.
“Hey,” Jacob warned. “We’ve got a lady in our presence, in case you haven’t noticed. Inside voices.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Brent said and winked at Holly. “Looking good, darling.”
“Brent,” she returned stiffly. She was already feeling embarrassed, and Brent’s penetrating stare didn’t help. Yet Holly pressed a smile onto her lips and said to Jacob, “I’ll see you at the truck.”
“I’ll only be a second longer.” Before she could run, duck, and hide under the foundation of the house (or as low as she could possibly get), he snagged her chin in his fingers and said, “C’mere.” Holly leaned in and melted against the firm press of his lips. Just like that—with his warmth, his stone-hard love—she felt grounded, a little less off-kilter. He sealed the kiss and Holly gave him a small, grateful smile before slipping off.
“Where’s mine?” she heard Brent call out, followed by an “Ow” as Jacob, no doubt, flicked something at his head.
Holly still felt anxious wings fluttering in her chest, but she was at least partially sedated by the strength of Jacob’s kiss. Her good feelings were cut short, however, when she turned around and came face-to-face with a scowling Cassidy in the doorway. “Can we talk?” Cassidy said in that sharp, no-nonsense tone that reminded Holly of visiting the principal.