Page 7 of One Steamy Pucking Meet Cute

Vanessa smirks. “I think you deserved to sweat it out in there a little longer. And those girls over there seemed to be enjoying the view.”

I look to the side and see the crowd of women in the other cell watching with big smiles on their faces. They wave when they notice me looking. I hesitantly wave back.

The ball cap guy sees the wave, thinks it’s for him, and goes to the bars. “Hey, Babes. Ignore that guy. You wanna get bruises from bumping against all that muscle in bed? Nah. You want a soft ride. Air suspension, baby.” He grips his love handles and leers at the women.

The bearded alliterator tilts his head and raises his palms like he’s about to deliver a sermon. “Wicked welts from her wrestle with the wildly well-built Romeo…”

I meet Vanessa’s eyes and mouth the words, “get me out of here.”

3

CAROLINE

I’m still sitting down as Peter stands and gathers his things. He’s putting the deed and contract back into the folder, adjusting his clothes, and taking his sweet damn time about it, too. He’s enjoying this.

There’s a cold fist in my chest, squeezing tighter by the second. I’ve always fixed my own problems. I’ve always had the answers. But what he’s suggesting is impossible. I’m not even dating, let alone engaged. I’ve got a two-month-old son, and Walker’s real dad doesn’t even know he’s a father because… well, it’s complicated. But I have zero chance of meeting the right guy and hitting it off in time for a wedding in six months.

I think I might hyperventilate. Do I even know how to hyperventilate?

“Well,” Peter says. “It was nice to catch up, Caroline. Oh, and if you would, please hire a cleaner.” He runs his fingertip along a nearby windowsill and lifts it for me to see. “It’s a bit dusty.”

Peter is about to leave, but the light from the lobby dims. We both look toward the doorway, where a huge man has just appeared.

“Jake?” I whisper.

Jake Summers, in all his glory, is walking into the room. There’s something in his eyes I’m not sure I like, either. He’s giving me this look… this look like he’s about to–

He stops in front of me, slides one hand into my hair, and leans in to plant a kiss right on my mouth.

I’m too stunned to kiss him back, but my brain distantly registers the warmth of his full lips and even the tease of his tongue.

The feeling of his mouth on mine is like fresh water over cracked lips. I can’t help but drink it in and wish I could drown in this feeling. I frantically try to memorize the velvety touch of his lips on mine and the wet heat of his tongue.

Then he’s pulling back, and the stars in my eyes start to slow down.

I blink up at him, and he winks. He lifts his thumb and wipes something from the corner of my mouth. “Just a bit of drool,” he says.

I lift a shaking hand and touch my lips. My brain feels like it used to in Mr. K’s geometry class. That class made me feel like my brain was just one big, smooth, ridgeless mass. Perfectly smooth and slick. Everything he said either bounced or slid right off, never to be comprehended or remembered.

Right now, Jake has turned me into a smooth brain. Damn him.

“Hi,” I manage.

“Hey, Sweetie,” Jake says.

He rests his hand on my shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Sweetie,” I breathe. What the hell is going on?

Jake smiles, but something in his expression seems a little urgent. Almost like he’s telling me to stop messing this up.

What am I messing up, exactly? What was that badger-eyed man in the suit even talking about a few minutes ago?

“I couldn’t help hearing a bit of the conversation when I came in,” Jake says. “Sounds like we may have to move the wedding up a bit to hit this deadline, huh?”

“We’re going to…” I mutter.

Peter’s face is red as he looks between us, his eyes wide with outrage. “What is this?”

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