Page 169 of Summer Heat
Fumbling for words, he sputtered something about her being okay. Damn men. He was knocked out one second, then asking if she was okay the second he regained consciousness. Hello, I’m the deadly one who lives here.
He tried to sit up too fast and caught himself. Cash would be a dead man when she got her hands around his neck. Dead. She continued to pet Jackson like it would soothe away her guilt. “Jacks, I’m fine. I’m sorry.”
It took him a second to focus. Jackson sat up, taking in the towel and blanket, then rolled his eyes. “Sexy, right? I’m the man of your dreams.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’ll be all right.” He brushed her hand from his hair, righting himself against the couch. “I’m good. I’m pissed. But, yes, I’m all right.” Jackson eyed her. “You have soap bubbles drying on your forehead.”
“And we have to buy a new lamp.”
He looked at the glass shards and busted accessories. “Fuck me.”
“No kidding, right? I’m going to kill him.”
“That’s Cash?”
She nodded.
“Think you could’ve mentioned me?” Jackson asked.
“It seemed complicated at the time.”
“A sucker punch to the dome uncomplicates shit fast. He’s going to be tough to partner with if you don’t. Or maybe that was your angle all along.” He laughed. “Or maybe, subconsciously, you just don’t want to let go of me.”
“No. I just… didn’t find the right moment.” And she barely lived there. Why bring up her ex as a roommate?
Jackson rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, I bet.”
“You seriously okay? ’Cause I need to get back into the shower.”
“Call your boy.” Her phone was in pieces on the floor, and he caught sight of it when he cracked his neck. “Temper, temper. You love the macho type, don’t you?”
“Are you jealous, Jacks?”
“Want me to be?” A sad smile flashed across his face. If she didn’t know better, she’d feel bad.
“Nope.” Jacks was such a good guy. Maybe unsure of his platonic place in their friendly relationship, but he epitomized a comfortable closeness.
“Too bad for me then.” He took a deep breath. “Then, no, I’m not jealous.”
Nicola leaned over and kissed his forehead. “You’re a catch, Jacks.”
“Yeah, yeah. Catch and release.”
“That was jealousy. I heard it.”
She tried to fuss over him. Maybe he needed an ice pack.
“Nope. Sorry, babe. That’s the chemicals in your shampoo making you hallucinate.”
Nic walked to the kitchen, stepping over all the Tupperware and napkins she’d thrown in her search-and-find mission. She fashioned an ice pack and brought it back to Jacks, who sprawled on the couch, leaning his head back. The view would be enough to make some women swoon.
She handed him the ice pack, apologized again, and jumped back into the shower. Jackson was a male model lookalike with a pretty boy smile that made all the girls at the FBI giggle, blush, and forget about the agent badges clipped to their hips. They were all skip-down-the-hall happy if he threw them a smile. They also got all knock-a-bitch-out when she visited him at work.
Drama, drama. Nicola hated drama but felt like she was drowning in overprotective men. She re-washed her hair and considered how the conversation with Cash would go. If she could get a hold of him. Nothing pleasant would come of that discussion.
Toweling off, Nic found her burner phone and buzzed Beth. She needed to clear her head before going wheels up with the butler.
