I felt my lips tug to the side. He was wearing a black turtleneck and black pants.
“Hey, are you sticking around?”
“Nah, just dropping off the supplies Beau wanted.”
I studied him. He looked cold. “You want to warm up next to the fire before you go?
“Sure. Maybe for a bit.”
“Where’s your jacket?”
“I gave my jacket to a lady in need, she’ll be along shortly.”
I didn’t get a chance to question him further because he lifted his chin to the crowd. “Who are these people?”
“Mostly Beau’s friends.” I scanned several unfamiliar faces. “You know how he is, he has more friends than a tree has leaves. Some are from Merryville, a few came over from the Cades Cove side.”
I knew the moment his eyes found Tina because they turned mean. “What’s she doing here? You back with that?”
“No,” I said, feeling revulsion at the thought. “No way.”
He nodded, frowning in an atypical display of dislike. “Good, ’cause she’s a crazy bitch.”
I didn’t even have three seconds to register or feel surprise at Cletus’s words before Beau reappeared at the edge of the bonfire, drawing everyone’s attention to him and the girl he had tucked under his arm.
If Cletus’s statement had surprised me, then the sight of Jessica James pressed against my twin nearly knocked me flat on my ass.
Time slowed. I couldn’t breathe. My vision turned red. My throat and chest burned. I wanted to punch something…or someone.
“What the fuck…?” My thoughts escaped on a breath, and a deep, piercing pain twisted in my gut. Thankfully, only Cletus had heard my curse.
“Oh, yeah. Catastrophic Engine Failure.” Cletus lifted his chin toward Jessica as though Catastrophic Engine Failure was her name. “I’m taking Miss James home.”
I turned my glare to Cletus and snapped, “What do you mean you’re taking her home?”
His stare narrowed, and he openly studied me. I hated it when he did this. When Cletus put his mind to something, he could see everything. I averted my eyes but then instantly regretted it, because Jessica was looking straight at me. Images of her bare tits, her hot looks, bringing my hand to her flimsy panties played through my mind’s eye.
I swallowed so I wouldn’t groan, thankful I’d changed into jeans because, fucking hell, I was abruptly hard. Again my gut twisted, again I couldn’t breathe. I fought to distance myself from her gaze, but she reeled me in. Her mouth, her eyes, her body—my bait. Jessica was so much more than beautiful.
I hadn’t wanted things to escalate backstage at the community center; that wasn’t my intent or my goal. It was a kiss I was after, a single kiss. Tricking her, taking her backstage had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. For me, spur of the moment was well beyond my comfort zone. I liked to know what to expect. I liked the certainty that came with a well-laid plan.
But I’d wanted her mouth on mine. The ferocity of that want had made me a little crazy at the time. I wanted that memory. Because with Jessica, I’d always wanted so much more than fucking around.
When she’d thought I was Beau, her big brown eyes had been trusting, adoring. She’d never looked at me like that before. It was addictive. I wanted her to do it again. But my terrible prospects were dwindling. I should have waited and I was paying the price now. I’d been practicing my speech for months, waiting for the right time.
I’d blown my careful planning on one kiss, but I couldn’t help thinking it had been worth it.
Her skin had been soft, like a petal or silk. The memory of touching, tasting, and holding Jessica—and having her return the force of my attentions—was still fresh. As was the suffocating misery of her rejection.
I didn’t blame her for hating me, not at all. And now I reckoned it would be the only time she’d let anything akin to affection between us. In retrospect, I also reckoned she’d never have given Duane Winston the time of day.
And so I wasn’t sorry I’d tricked her.
I balled my hands into fists and forced my mind to blank. Even so, my eyes were drawn to her lips. They’d always been a little slanted, higher on one side than the other. This imperfection only added to her appeal. It made her look like she was thinking about a private joke, like she was ready to laugh.
My eyes lowered to her neck before I forced myself to stop. If I moved them any lower I would be thinking about her naked again. I didn’t need that kind of torture. So I brought my eyes back to hers.
She wasn’t looking at me with trust now. I couldn’t read her expression, but it appeared to be founded in unkind thoughts.