Page 39 of Second Go-Round

Blinking, I glanced down at Wendy. “Huh?”

The doc nodded with her chin toward Christine before smirking up at me. “First it’s heart eyes, then alpha get your hands off her or else energy. And don’t tell me I didn’t catch the panic on your face when Bradley offered to introduce you. That wasn’t insecurity—you don’t have an ounce of that in your character. Nope.” Wendy popped the P. “That’s pure I already know the woman but can’t let that info out kind of fear. So tell me.” Wendy leaned into me, lowering her voice. “How do you know Christine Gemberling?”

As if I’d ever reveal my night job to her.

“Doesn’t matter,” I tried to brush her off.

Wendy laughed. “I’ve worked with you for five years, Jarod, so forget trying to hide from me. I’d say that stunning redhead grabbed hold of your balls once, and you’re dying for a second go-round.”

“I hate you,” I muttered.

“I’m not wrong.”

“You’re not wrong,” I admitted, my shoulder slumping even further.

Wendy nudged me with her elbow. “Then go get her, tiger.” She let out a low growl, almost a reow sound that made me snort with laughter. “Seriously.” She pushed at my arm again. “Live a little. After the day we had, you deserve it. Forget all your usual careful plotting and planning before making a decision. Choose to just be in this moment and go grab what you want.”

Chapter 17

Christine

I didn’t turn to watch Jarod and that tiny bitch interact, but I could sense him, caught glimpses of him out of the corners of my eyes as the next half-hour dragged by.

I’d gone from high as a kite to stunned breathlessness. Thrilled to see Rosie appearing so happy and lively, then once more uncomfortable in my own skin thanks to the injured rookie I realized I had zero interest in leading on. His touch on my lower back had shivers of unease through my blood, and I’d never been so thankful for Uncle Bradley in my entire life as he ushered me and his granddaughter away to greet other potential donors.

The three of us separated for a short time, and I tracked Uncle Bradley and Rosie making their way toward the group of people from the children’s hospital where Rosie went for treatments. When Rosie caught sight of Jarod, she launched herself at him—and he caught her up into his arms, swinging her around in a circle, tulle fluttering behind her.

I lost my breath as my chest went tight. Ignoring the guests around me, I stayed focused on his gorgeous smile and how she giggled, holding onto his cheeks as though sharing a special moment.

Turning away would protect my heart, so I tore my focus off the beautiful sight of them together. The ache didn’t fade, but I kept a smile on my face, feigning absolute joy when I felt strangely…bereft.

The time drew near for the auction about a half hour later, so I finally excused myself from those around me and approached the DJ, dragging Uncle Bradley along with me. We’d left Rosie with Auntie Sophie and my dad, but I couldn’t as easily set aside Jarod’s presence from the back of my mind.

I’d been too aware of him since his arrival, and there was no way he’d missed me in the shifting people around us. Unable to meet his gaze or even intentionally look for him, I kept my eyes to myself. Pretended I didn’t notice him, let alone yearned for him with a stomach-quaking need that made me feel weak and jittery.

Talking to Jarod, breathing in the citrus spice of his cologne, would only make me crave more of whatever it was that had drawn us so closely together two weeks earlier. Knowing it was best to keep away from him didn’t make the choice easy though.

Had we been in a smaller crowd, a quieter setting, I didn’t doubt the draw would reel us both in, and make us face shit I felt sure he didn’t want to think about either.

Uncle Bradley accepted the mic from the DJ as he turned down the music, and I stood back in the shadows, trying to listen to Rosie’s grandpapa use his wiles of persuasion on those he’d invited to help in the cause to kick cancer’s ass. He negotiated contracts for a living, and the man could wheel and deal.

The silent auction items had been spread on tables around three of the ballroom’s four walls, all donated by local businesses in the greater Boston area. It had taken me dozens of phone calls, a couple of hundred miles tacked onto my car’s odometer, and even three full days of missing my day job to make the event happen.

But I had.

And now I can rest.

Releasing a slow, steady breath, I sank deeper into the shadows of the heavy drapes covering ceiling-to-floor windows that overlooked Boston’s skyline. Hidden in darkness, I finally allowed my eyes free rein and scanned the dense crowd. Over six feet, Jarod should have been easy to spot, but I couldn’t find him or the small woman he’d arrived with.

My heart sank even as I told myself it would be best if he’d left. I had no business falling for an escort of all men. He fucked for a living. Hell, he’d probably been balls deep in a half-dozen clients since making my body sing. I wondered how many times he’d gotten that dark-haired woman off.

A low growl slid up my throat as those claws once more wanted to sprout from my hands.

“Hey,” a low murmur reached my ears at the same moment a warm touch caused electrical charges to race up my arm.

Without turning, I knew who had snuck up on me.

Adrenaline shot through my system, sending my heartbeat straight to my throat. I swallowed hard and angled to face Jarod. “Hey.”

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