Page 40 of Fairy Tale Lies
“That’s what it was?”
No wonder it hurt.
“Yes, some floating table for the pool.” She rubbed his back, and he tried not to flinch. Damn, he was going to have one hell of a bruise come morning.
She must’ve caught his cringe because her hand fell away, and she muttered an apology. “Anyway, I’m not upset with you. The fallout from the fight worries me.”
He was confused. “From your friend? The one having the party? Why, because of a small fight? Nothing was even broken, well, besides the table thingy, and maybe Blake’s nose.”
Jacob couldn’t help smirking at the last part. She didn’t return his smile. Instead anxiety pulled at the corners of her mouth as if a million worries were stacking up in her crowded, beautiful mind. She was such an anxious woman. Why?
“He’s who I’m worried about, not Jane. Blake’s vindictive. His ego won’t be able to handle what happened. My rejection and him losing a fight, and with an audience. He’ll want retribution.”
Jacob waved this off. He’d dealt with his fair share of arrogant pricks; Blake’s hatred wasn’t a concern. What the asshole might’ve done to Greta was what ate away at Jacob’s stomach lining. “Was he harassing you all night? Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“Because I had it under control” Greta squeezed his hand, probably trying to reassure him. “I’d avoided him most of the night. He was only a problem right before I called you. When I went into the house to find Cindy.”
Jacob froze mid-step. “Wait. Did he touch you? If he hurt you in any way—”
He whirled around, heading back in the direction of the house. Forget a broken nose; he was going to break Blake’s legs.
Hell, I’m going to castrate the sonofabitch.
“Hey, no. It’s fine. Nothing serious.” Greta hooked a hand around his elbow. “He got a little pushy. He gets like that when he’s had too much to drink. I’ve learned to deal with it. I know how to handle him.”
Jacob stopped, stunned. “Greta. Why the fuck would you have todeal with it? He’s in the wrong.”
“He doesn’t know what he’s doing when he drinks.”
“Are you defending him?” What had her ex done to her confidence?
“No.” She cupped the sides of his cheeks with her hands. “Blake ruined my evening. Please don’t let him spoil the rest of the night.”
She stood on her toes, kissing him. The touch of her lips and soft hands soothed him, but her reasoning niggled, bothering him.
“Fine,” he exhaled and pointed. “I’m parked there.”
Greta followed the direction and whooped. “You brought the motorcycle. This nightislooking up.”
“I see how it is,” he teased, his bad mood lifting. “Spending time with me for my bike. I feel used.”
He peered at her outfit. He was an asshole. “Too bad I hadn’t considered you might wear a dress. I was in a hurry, and Will’s car was blocking in my truck.”
“Don’t worry.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I’ll tuck it under me.”
Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her flush against him. “You’re definitely my kind of woman. Sexy, smart, and resourceful.”
His hands ran from the dip in her back to her neck before burying in her silky locks. He kissed her. She eagerly accepted his lips and pressed her body firmly against his.
Every part of him hardened with desire. He wanted to kiss her until she was panting and pliant to his touch.
Needing to stop before he couldn’t, he stepped to the bike. Grabbing his extra helmet from his backpack, he handed it to Greta. He stored the bag in the bike’s side compartment. As she fiddled with the straps, he wanted to move back in, to kiss her. Have her body against his.
He swung a leg over the bike and sat, reaching for his helmet and adjusting its fit. Seconds later, there was a slight dip, and Greta settled in behind him. Her arms snaked around, and she slid against his back. Her intoxicating scent of lilac and woman filled him.
The ride was going to be sweet agony.
“Where am I taking you?” He sincerely hoped she wouldn’t say home.
