Page 74 of Jett

I see the gentle movement of her throat as she swallows. “Not one I can put my finger on right now.”

There is a world of answers in that one sentence. “I thought you were avoiding me.” I examine her carefully. Then, because she wore the dress, and she came—she obeyed me—I slowly make my way over and sit down next to her.

Her hair is up, and she looks like a goddess. It gives me a perfect view of her shoulders, and how the dress ties in pretty little bows. Flimsy bows. One tug, and it’ll all fall away ...

“You didn’t talk to me on the ride home,” she challenges, her voice calm and composed as she leans back, perfectly comfortable. “Areyouavoiding me?”

She’s got me there.

I clear my throat. “I’m sorry. Brooke was excited and telling me about her day,” I offer weakly. “You heard her chattering away. She had a lot of fun today, so ... thank you, for that.” I ramble like a fool, trying not to look down at her dress, or focus on the way her thighs are exposed. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“It’s Brooke.”

My sexy thoughts disintegrate.

“Brooke?” I lean forward, my attention sharp.

“She asked about her mommy. She wanted to know where she is. I didn’t know how to answer that, so I wanted to check with you. What does she know?”

I stiffen, trying to mask my reaction. Brooke’s questions have been more frequent lately, and it’s become increasingly difficult for me to answer. She wants to know if she can ever have a mommy again.

“I told her that her mommy has gone to heaven,” I tell Cari.

“I don’t know what I’m allowed to say. What do you want me to tell her?” Cari gives me that look, the one that cuts through my defenses.

“Just reiterate what I’ve told you. Tell her that her mommy is in heaven and looking down on her.”

“And what if she—”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Cari,” I growl. I can’t talk about my dead wife. I can’t have a conversation with Cari about my personal hell, about my past, about her. Especially not when she’s dressed like that and staring at me with her bedroom eyes. “You’re very good with Brooke,” I say, not wanting to sour the mood. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for her, and not just the little things. The thoughtful things, like fixing her elephant, you’re just so good all around. You’re the best nanny she’s ever had.”

“I’m not hernanny,Jett. I’m your PA, and I’m helping out because you needed me to.”

Fuck. The lines in my brain blur when it comes to Cari. “Of course you aren’t her nanny. I’m not thinking straight.”

Her gaze drops to my lips. “Whythisdress? Haven’t you already seen enough of me?”

My throat is so parched, it’s like I’ve poured sand into it. I can’t give her an answer.

“You were testing me.” Her eyes darken as she whispers, “Did I pass?” Her voice is so low, I have to lean towards her to hear her words.

“With flying colors.”

She watches me closely, her breathing shallow. I try not to look at the quick rise and fall of her chest. “Is something wrong?”

I reach over for the whiskey decanter and pour myself another drink. “The truth is, Cari ... you’re the one bothering me.”

Her eyes widen, and her lips part in surprise. “Me?”

I have to tell her. This might be my only chance. “I think of you in ways I shouldn’t.”

Her eyes turn darker. Her mouth falls open. Fucking hell. That delectable, delicious mouth. In my private moments, I have jerked off to thoughts of that mouth. The things I want to do to her, if she’d let me.

Her tongue flicks out nervously. “Th-that’s because you’re here, without Alicia—”

“We broke up,” I grind out. I hate that she’s so fixated on my ex-girlfriend. “She’s history. Do not talk about her.Ever.”

She shrinks back. “Then it’s … because you’re lonely out here—”

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