I Know You Want Me...

One last hookup. At least that’s what graphic designer Jenna Cho has in mind when she texts her toxic-in-life but amazing-in-bed ex, Jax. When her gorgeous boss Jack responds to the booty call instead, Jenna learns exactly why a girl should never hit send after one too many vodka sodas. Still, faced with Jack’s sexy grin and even sexier Irish accent, Jenna thinks maybe she messaged the right man after all—especially when he admits he’s been hoping she’d make the first move...

Dedication

For GB

Texting Under

the Influence

Cara Lockwood

Contemporary, sexy stories for sassy women

Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Mills & Boon

www.millsandboon.co.uk/cosmo

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Dedication

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

About the Author

Copyright

Chapter One

“Here’s to being single—again.” Jenna Cho raised her vodka soda and clinked it against her best friend’s beer bottle at the Wrigleyville bar on the north side of Chicago. Despite the sparse Tuesday night scene, music still blared over the speakers, as if trying to make up for the thin crowd. The loud thump of bass made it hard to converse but that was fine by Jenna. The last thing she felt like doing was talking about how she and Jax had broken up again. That made three times. Maybe this time was the charm, but she doubted it. Jax was like crack: the more she tried to quit him, the worse the withdrawal.

“You’re better off without that asshole,” Maddie yelled over the music, taking a big swig of her beer. Maddie hated Jax, which Jenna understood because sometimes Jenna hated him, too. Like two days ago when she’d found him trolling for hookups on Tinder (reason for breakup number three). “I mean it. He takes you for granted. He’s totally self-centered. He’s toxic, J. Toxic!”

Usually, when Jenna broke up with Jax, her friend’s bitter ravings about her ex made her feel better. But tonight, Maddie’s endless bashing of Jax just made Jenna feel...depressed. She really felt her whole life was on a vicious loop that ended here every three months: Jenna complaining that Jax had slept around, again, swearing she’d never take him back, only to do so a few weeks or months later, repeating the whole cycle again.

Two guys tumbled through the revolving door, bringing with them a blast of late-fall Chicago air. In the summer, their Wrigleyville neighborhood teemed with Cubs fans and late-night parties almost every day of the week, the home of drunken karaoke and the occasional bar fight. But the Cubs finished their season more than a month ago, and now Clark Street felt like frat row during winter break. The two guys, decent enough looking, eyed Maddie and Jenna as they slid into empty seats down the bar.

Jenna couldn’t believe she looked anything other than a mess: runny eye makeup bleeding into the creases of her almond-shaped lids, her dark, nearly black hair up in a hasty ponytail. She wore the same outfit she’d had on at work: skinny black wool leggings tucked into her brand-new kid leather stiletto boots, and her once crisp oxford, that looked wilted, carried a faint stain on the pocket from lunch. Maddie was impeccable as usual, blond hair in long, flowing layers, that somehow always made her look like she was Venus in that famous Botticelli painting, standing in a giant shell. They’d been friends since kindergarten, growing up in the northern ‘burbs together. Jenna used to be jealous of her pretty friend, but she’d found that they hardly ever attracted the same kind of guys, and besides, Maddie was off the market.

Jenna had been, too. Until today.

Damn Jax.

Jenna knew Maddie was right about him, had been right from the start, but it didn’t change the fact that Jenna couldn’t quite fully understand how someone so amazingly delicious in bed was toxic everywhere else in her life.

And winter was coming. She thought of all the happy couples out there who’d paired up, ready to hibernate on their couches all winter, to fuck their way to spring. Jax was supposed to be her hibernation buddy. Of course, he was more than that and Jenna knew it. Jax, who’d played two years of pro football, possessed a still ridiculous CrossFit body. Adding that to the sensual intensity that he carried with him all the time made him... well, crack. He was crack. Even though he’d had no real ambition besides serving up drinks at the local bar, well, it didn’t matter. He was still crack.

She thought about the barely even apologetic look on his face when she caught him setting up that Tinder meet. Don’t pretend you didn’t see this coming. You know me, J.

That was the worst part. She did know Jax. Better than anyone. She knew he couldn’t be faithful. He said it was a man’s biological imperative to need new conquests. He didn’t even bother to pretend. She used to tell herself she appreciated the honesty. That all guys felt that way, but at least Jax was honest about it. She knew he wouldn’t be with just one woman, and most of the time, she could convince herself she was fine with that. That it was just light and fun, and who cared? She didn’t want to marry Jax.

And, yet... it still hurt. She had to admit that.

“What you need to do is get off this Jax phase,” Maddie declared, clinking her beer bottle hard on the worn lacquer of the bar.

“Can you really call a year a phase?” The minute the words were out of her mouth when it hit her. She’d met Jax a year ago. She’d been hopping in and out of his bed, in and out of so-called relationships with him for all that time. That was either proof they ought to be together, or clear evidence she needed to find someone else. She didn’t know if Jax was her soul mate, or if he was her worst nightmare. Sometimes, it was hard to tell the difference.

“You’re as much to blame as Jax is. You keep going back for more.”

Jenna hated it when Maddie was so right.

“I know.” Did she ever. And she knew what she came back for. The man might not be monogamy material, but he made it his single-minded goal in life to make sure she came again and again, all night long. The thought of him and that little trick he did with his fingers, made her want to call off the breakup, end this bitch session with Maddie and head straight to his apartment. She took another swig of her fourth-round drink and realized it was half-gone.

Uh-oh. Not a good sign. She glanced up at the big-screen TV above the bar, which flashed a commercial of some hunky Taye Diggs-look-alike model shaving. That guy and his six-pack has nothing on Jax, she thought, even if Jax didn’t have the same handsome face. He’d had his nose broken twice on the football field, but the crooked bridge of his nose just added to his charm. Instantly, she hated her rebellious thoughts. She was supposed to be angry at him. He was toxic. Angrily, she turned her head from the not-as-cute-as-Jax model.

I wonder what Jax is doing right now? Is he with that Tinder girl? She felt jealousy lick up her spine.

“I’m addicted. I can admit it,” Jenna said.

“Admitting you have a problem is the first step toward recovery,” Maddie quipped, flipping her long blond hair off one shoulder. “The second step is to admit that you want more than to play around.”

“I’m not ready to settle down,” Jenna declared, eyeing the sparkling diamond Maddie wore on her finger with some measure of mistrust. Granted, Maddie’s fiancé was amazing in every way: cute, thoughtful, good at hauling and putting together Ikea furniture. There were perks to being engaged, but Jenna couldn’t imagine taking that step yet. She’d not met anyone, including Jax, she’d want to spend the rest of her life with. She’d grown up with parents who never stopped arguing, and in her mind, marriage equaled an endless merry-go-round of fights and a slow, bitter backslide to divorce.

“You don’t have to get married, Jenna. But how about you admit that you want a relationship. Stop pretending that you and Jax want the same things.”

“But Jax is fun, and fun is no pressure.” Jenna didn’t do well with pressure. She’d run screaming from her college boyfriend when he’d hinted around that he wanted to get engaged. That was three years ago, and now she’d just turned twenty-six. She had plenty of time to worry about all of that.

Maddie took a swig of her drink and shook her head. “Jax is not fun when he’s cheating on you.” Maddie had a point there. That part wasn’t very fun at all.

“Yeah, but... can you call it cheating if we never really agreed to being exclusive?”

“Are you sleeping with anyone else?”

“No.”

“Does it hurt you when he does?” Maddie asked.

Jenna nodded.

“And, does he know this hurts you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then, it’s both your faults. But, still. One of you needs to end it for good. It’s not healthy. You’re not getting what you need.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right.”

“I am right,” Maddie said with confidence. “So, the next step is finding someone new.” She rolled the beer bottle around in her hand, studying it, as if Jenna’s new rebound would be found there.

“What about Jack?”

“Jack?” Jenna’s thoughts reluctantly left Jax as she focused on her friend. “Jack? My boss Jack?” Suddenly, Jenna felt sober. Jack was her gorgeous young director who’d only recently moved here from Ireland. “You know I can’t. Company policy.”

“At this point, I don’t care. Jack is hot. He’s nice. He’s got that killer accent. And anyone is better than Jax.”

Maddie didn’t lie. Jack, with the gravelly brogue, piercing blue eyes and the always-there stubble caught the eye of every woman and some of the men at Jenna’s ad agency. Jenna had noticed. Who wouldn’t? Those broad shoulders and flat stomach were meant for the cover of a romance novel. But he was the boss and he was off-limits. Period.

Besides, pretty boys like Jack never went for Jenna. She always got the rough-around-the-edges types. Like Jax. She didn’t know why, but this was a cardinal rule of her dating universe. It had been since high school. Pretty boys went for Maddie. Rough ones, for Jenna. Maybe they could all sense that Goth period she went through in high school. Whatever the reason, she’d given up on pursuing guys who looked like Jack.

“I’d rather you get fired than get back with Jax.” Maddie stared at Jenna until she blinked and looked away. Maddie let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. How about them?” Maddie nodded toward the guys down the bar. One of them caught Jenna’s eye and raised his beer mug, sloshing it out of the side.

“They’re drunk.” Jenna took a final swig of her drink and realized it was all gone. She glared with one eye at the remaining ice cubes, wondering where all her vodka had gone.

“So are you.” Maddie gave her friend a shove, nearly knocking her off the bar stool to prove her point.

“I’m fine. I’m going to the bathroom,” Jenna declared, slipping off her bar stool. The room took a little spin as she stood on wobbly legs, realizing for the first time how drunk she was. She managed to steady herself and walk an almost-straight line to the bathroom. The guys at the bar eyed her as she went, the want on their faces obvious as they watched her wobble by in her knee-high boots. Jenna worked hard to stay in shape, and she had her parents’ amazing Korean genes. She knew she turned heads at the bar even when she wasn’t even trying. Jax, after all, didn’t spend time with uglies, as he called girls not to his standards.

God, what a jerk, she thought, in a more sobering moment. Jax really was an asshole. Still, didn’t part of her like that she met his standards? Laughed when he made fun of ugly girls? Terrible. Truly terrible.

One of the guys at the bar nodded at her as she went past.

Not my type, she thought. Average, if anything, and sloppy drunk. One of the guys had a nacho stain down the front of his shirt and the beginnings of a soft beer belly. Nothing like Jax. There wasn’t anything soft about Jax. At thoughts of him, her body instantly responded, her belly growing warm. Damn, Jax! Once in the bathroom, her phone pinged an incoming text. She realized it was her work phone.

They had a big client’s campaign launching this week, and everyone on her team was pretty much “on call” for possible problems. Jenna, the graphic designer, might be called on to log in at ten, fix a graphic or make a last-minute change. She shouldn’t even be out drinking. She’d told herself she’d just have one drink—two at most—but her willpower dissolved somewhere around the end of the second round, probably because the more she talked about Jax, the more she wanted to drink.

She hoped the text wasn’t work-related.

But when she glanced at the face of the phone, she saw it wasn’t work texting at all.

Jax’s name lit up the face of the phone, along with his two messages. Jenna hurried into the nearest stall, her heart racing, as if she worried Maddie would burst in any second and catch her reading them.

Baby, I’m sorry.

I miss u.

Jenna blinked and looked away from her phone. He had some nerve texting her work phone. She’d told him dozens of times not to do it, that she might get in trouble, but Jax wasn’t the type to care about company rules—or any rules, for that matter.

Still, seeing Jax’s name on her phone made her heart soar, which her brain knew was all wrong. She shouldn’t feel glad he texted. She should ignore him. She deleted all the texts in a fit of rage.

Then, she wished she hadn’t.

Did he really miss her?

God, why do you care?! That vicious voice of reason screamed in her head. Of course he misses you; his Tinder hookup must’ve fallen through!

Jenna started typing a text message. She’d tell him. But, she’d tell him to his face! She’d stormed out of his apartment yesterday and hadn’t been back since. She had a whole lot to tell him.

We need 2 talk.

She hit Send and waited. She swayed on her feet. Then, a Sam Smith song, one that Jax had sung to her as he undressed her just last weekend, piped in over the bathroom speakers. She remembered her zipper in his teeth as he tried to sing, and felt shivers down her spine. The alcohol made her feel fuzzy and adrift: why was she so mad at Jax? What she wanted was to get naked with him. Drunk, it sounded fine. One more hookup. What could it hurt? Like a farewell tour? Maybe that’s what she needed to get him out of her system for good. Just one more sleepover.

She knew she was in a bad place—one minute, she wanted to shout at Jax and the next, she wanted to strip. Jenna needed to get her emotions straight.

One more hookup. Maybe that’s what she needed.

She couldn’t tell Maddie, or she’d talk her out of it. She’d never have to know!

I know you want me. You should want me. I’m the best you’ll ever have.

She sent the text and giggled. She slipped into the role of sex pop star goddess easily: it was something she and Jax did.

She waited, staring at her screen, which seemed to be a wiggly, blurry mess. Why was her phone so blurry? Oh, right. I’m drunk. She wanted to giggle, but instead, she put out a hand against the stall door to steady herself. She blinked once more to focus and found a message popped up in answer:

When? Where?

Good. Jax was playing along.

My place. Tonight.

* * *

Jack Kearney had never done anything so crazy before. Met a girl at nearly midnight on a Tuesday? And not just any lass, one who worked for him.

Jenna Cho.

He’d never in a million years expected her to text him, but here she had. I know you want me. You should want me. I’m the best you’ll ever have.

There wasn’t anything hotter than a confident girl who knew exactly what she wanted. Jack was hooked the second the text came in.

Jack locked the back door of his sleek town home in Old Town, as he trotted out the small yard and to his waiting parking space in the back alley, wishing he could teleport himself over to Jenna’s place and not even bother with the car. Jack was used to female attention. His wicked smile and lean, athletic physique had gotten him more than kisses in alleyways and bars across Dublin, where he’d grown up—a streak that had continued when he’d jumped the pond to Chicago two years ago. He’d been propositioned before, but never in the middle of the night. Even at Hue, he’d had to politely turn down advances from nearly every department. He never used to mix business and pleasure, but Jenna was different.

My place. Tonight.

The thought sent a thrill through him. He hated that he was so excited about the prospect. He should’ve ignored the texts. She’d been drinking. It was probably a mistake, and yet... he had to know for sure.

Jack had been drawn to Jenna the minute they’d met. He had a string of blonde and red-headed freckled beauties back in Ireland he’d loved and left, but Jenna was different. It wasn’t just that she was dark-haired and gorgeous. She always seemed so out-of-reach, so completely immune to his charms. He’d tried, against all his better judgment, and yet, she remained completely and totally aloof, maddeningly professional.

And then, out of the clear blue, this.

“Yer gonna lose yer job,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head at his own foolishness, as he opened the garage door, revealing his sleek, freshly washed BMW. Not that he was particularly married to this job or even really planned to keep it much longer, he reminded himself. Still, he should’ve ignored that text. It wasn’t like he was going to take advantage of a drunk lass. One who could get ye fired, or sued, or worse! His ma had raised him better than that. Old Mrs. Kearney would not approve, and she’d berate him to no end. And if she didn’t, one of his four sisters would have something to say about it. Growing up the only boy in a houseful of women taught him a few things about respecting ladies. But, he had to know. Did she secretly feel the same way about him? He’d been soft on her for months. She’d gotten under his skin like a bad rash.

“Yer bein’ an arse,” he mumbled to himself, but that still didn’t stop him from sliding into the front seat of his Beamer and starting the engine. And if he ran over there and slept with her? Then what? Most American girls he’d met weren’t ready for a relationship. Sure, they’d muck about for a while, but when it came to serious talks about exclusivity, they’d all go pale and start blubbering about not being ready to settle down. Somewhere, between Ireland and here, the roles had been all switched around. He didn’t quite understand it.

In Ireland, he’d been an unapologetic serial monogamist. He craved a relationship with one woman at a time. His sister Maeve told him he fell in love too easily. But, he thought women were supposed to want that. Not the ones he’d met so far. He didn’t know if it was just his rotten luck, or if women were different in America, but it seemed all they were into was partying and shagging anything that moved. The last time he fell for a girl, she’d been dating two other guys at the same time. He should’ve learned his lesson then, but now here he was again, falling for a girl before he even knew her.

Did she just want a shag like the rest of them? Or was she fishing for more? He wanted a real connection. Did she?

Part of him told him he’d just be disappointed, but the part of him that lived below his waist didn’t care at the moment. The thought that her hard veneer had finally cracked drove him wild.

He backed his car out of the garage space and steered it toward Jenna’s condo in Wrigleyville.

The fact that he’d memorized her address after only dropping her off once after a photo shoot a few months ago should’ve raised more warning bells in his head, but didn’t. Just hear the lass out, and figure out if she feels the same way about me, he thought. Nothing more.

Chapter Two

Back at her condo, Jenna quickly stuffed her dirty clothes into her closet, kicking errant socks under her bed. Jax had a thing about bedrooms: they had to be clean. He felt nothing should get in the way of setting the mood, and he was right about that. He was an artist in the bedroom, and wanted to work every angle of the canvas. A dirty bra on the headboard or a sweatshirt on the floor might mess with his rhythm, and Jenna had no intention of doing that. If this was going to be the last time she’d ever fuck him, she wanted it to be perfect. Quickly, she lit those vanilla candles he liked so much, and shut off the lights.

Maddie had been the hardest to get rid of—she’d almost insisted on sleeping over. “I don’t want to leave you alone,” she had said. “What if he tries to hit you up for a booty call?”

“He won’t,” Jenna had lied, since he already had. And she’d accepted. She felt bad about that, and about shuffling Maddie out her door with some mumbled excuse about having an early workday tomorrow. She knew by the sour look on Maddie’s face, her friend didn’t buy it, but Maddie had let it slide, so there was that. Now, she just had to focus on what was coming and how she planned to be naked with Jax in less than an hour.

Already, she’d found the lingerie that drove him wild: push-up bra, transparent black thong, the silky black robe he’d gotten her for her birthday last year. He’d had her try it on—sans anything underneath when she opened it, and that had led to a six-hour, multi-orgasm, marathon lovemaking session, which she still sometimes daydreamed about. She hoped he remembered that when she opened the door.

What am I doing? she thought suddenly, remembering that the day after that lovemaking marathon she’d gone in for her annual OB/GYN appointment and discovered she had HPV, which could only have come from Jax. She’d done the math and realized that he’d given it to her sometime during one of their so-called monogamous phases, which meant he’d picked it up from playing around on the side. When she’d confronted him, and asked him if he’d been sleeping around, he’d said yes. When she asked him if he used any protection, he’d said sometimes.

Sometimes! That had led to a panicked call to the doctor’s office once more, where she had tests for the whole spectrum of STDs run. She’d come up negative for any more, but that had led to their second breakup.

Jenna shook her head, the vodka making her thoughts all jumbled. She’d had a lot to drink and hardly anything to eat, and she swayed unsteadily on her heels as she tried to gather her thoughts.

She couldn’t believe she’d let him back into her life and her bed. She knew how it sounded to Maddie, and everyone else in her life, but the fact was, nobody wanted her like Jax. His hands... his mouth. He knew every one of her weak spots. He exploited every one. And if that didn’t work, he made her come so hard she cried uncle.

Nobody pursued her with his single-minded determination. Even though he ran after dozens of girls the same way, that little voice said. She checked her makeup in the mirror, her image a drunk blur. She’d fixed her eyeliner the best she could, but wondered what would happen after he left. Would she cry herself to sleep? Was she really going to do this? Trade her dignity for one more night with Jax?

I should call him and tell him not to bother. I shouldn’t do this. I know where this leads...

No. One more time, she thought. Just once. One time and I’ll be done with him. For good this time.

But... was that really a good idea? She wavered, phone in hand, almost ready to text Jax and call the whole thing off. Maybe she would...

Her door buzzed then. Too late. Jax was downstairs. She could ignore him, but she knew Jax. He’d worm his way in somehow, or he’d buzz all her neighbors’ doors until one of them let him in. When it came to sex, Jax wasn’t going to be derailed. He’d take the door off the hinges if he had to. She thought of trying to explain to the police she called about her drunk texting, and decided she should be in for a penny, in for a pound. She invited him over, and part of her was still very excited about their last night.

She hit the buzzer button, and cracked open her front door. She was in a third-floor walk-up, and she could hear the front door click behind him, and the heavy footsteps on the carpeted stairs. Jenna propped herself in her doorway, her landing not visible to any of her neighbors. She had her silky black robe open, her lingerie and assets on display—push-up bra working overtime to make her a Victoria’s Secret model look-alike. She slouched against the door frame, hoping she looked seductive and not drunk, as she saw a glimpse of dark hair and a leather jacket. Jax didn’t wear leather... and wait one minute, that wasn’t Jax at all.

Her boss, Jack Kearney, climbed up the last flight, his broad shoulders moving his fit body as she froze in absolute shock for about two full seconds, during which, his ice-blue eyes swept over her in approval. He looked a little like a man on Christmas morning, amazed at the good fortune he’d found under his tree.

Jenna managed to gain control of her body once more, and she whipped her robe closed, tying the sash and backing into her apartment.

“Jack! What are you doing here?” she exclaimed, even as she realized the silk of her robe clung to her curves, and was too short to cover much of anything, her hem hanging well above her knee. Her eyes darted down the stairwell, as if Jax might be there right behind Jack, trying to figure out what on earth had brought her boss to her apartment at midnight.

“You told me to come,” Jack said, holding up his phone.

The vodka swirled around Jenna’s brain, making her two steps too slow. “What?”

He read the messages aloud. “We need 2 talk. I know you want me. You should want me. I’m the best you’ll ever have. “

“No... Oh, my God.” Jenna stumbled back into her apartment, grabbing her phone. It couldn’t be true. She’d texted Jax. She knew she had...and yet, as she scrambled to pick up her phone she saw she hadn’t. Jack sat neatly at the top of her message list. Jack, not Jax. She’d been off by one letter. She’d probably typed Jac, and it had automatically pulled up Jack, but she’d been too drunk to notice. Oh, God! Her boss... her... really devilishly good-looking boss. She didn’t know if it was the vodka talking, but man, were his eyes blue. Shockingly blue. His nearly jet-black hair ran riot over his head in just the perfect messy heap. He grinned sheepishly, as the mix-up dawned on him.

“You didn’t mean to text me, I take it?” He ran a hand through his thick black hair and sighed, looking strangely despondent. “I knew it was too good to be true.” He grinned ruefully at her, looking, well, damn good. He was handsome, she knew he was, but before now she’d not let herself see just how hot.

God, Jenna. Like a bitch in heat! Are you just going to jump on every man you see? Maybe... she thought. Just maybe. And distantly... I really shouldn’t ever drink vodka.

Jack glanced down at his shoes, looking embarrassed. She wondered why. Women threw themselves on Jack all the time. It’s not like the man was hard up for willing booty calls. She’d heard women at work talking about him in the kitchen by the coffee machine and what they’d love to do with him. “Right, well, then, I... Uh... This is for you.” He handed her a bottle of red, an expensive bottle by the look of it. What kind of man brought expensive wine to a drunken hookup?

A nice one, Maddie would’ve said if she were here.

“Well... uh... I’ll be on me way, then,” he grumbled in his sexy Irish brogue. Even Jenna had taken note of the accent. Everyone in the office had. “No need to call the peelers.”

“Peelers?”

“Police,” he explained. He headed to the door, pausing there. “By the by, you look feckin’ amazing. Whomever you meant to call is a lucky feckin’ lad.”

Something in his voice, the yearning in it, made Jenna pause. Did Jack have a thing for her?

“Jack, wait.”

He paused. “Are you going to call HR? Pam will be asleep and meaner than she usually is.”

Jenna laughed. Pam in HR was a hard-ass. She’d hate being called at home, but she’d love reprimanding both of them. She lived to chastise rule-breakers. “Have a drink. She can’t have us fired for having a drink.”

“She can if you wear that.” Jack looked down at Jenna’s robe, which had gaped open, revealing cleavage. She giggled, and stumbled a little, and Jack steadied her on her feet. His hands were strong and warm and Jenna liked the feel of them on her shoulders. He smelled like leather and cinnamon. He smelled good.

She glanced up and saw a worried look in his stark blue eyes.

“You okay?”

“I’m... I’m a mess,” she admitted, and hiccupped. The vodka hadn’t weakened its grip on her at all, which was probably a good thing, because if she’d been sober, she would’ve died on the spot of embarrassment. But, now, the alcohol blunted the flash of disapproval in her boss’s eyes. She’d deal with all of that later. Right now, she was drunk, and there was a good-looking man standing in her living room. She hadn’t made the leap of sleeping with him, yet, but then, anything could happen.

“Let’s open this,” she offered, taking the bottle to the kitchen.

“Let’s get some food first, lass,” Jack said, carefully taking the bottle out of her hands. “I know a twenty-four-hour pizza place. Crust to die for! Pepperoni, yeah?”

Confused, Jenna nodded. Jax would never stop to order pizza. He’d have had his way with her five times to Sunday by now. He never cared if she was drunk or not. Usually, she didn’t care either. She was too busy trying to get Jax’s clothes off. She’d thought it was sexy, that he couldn’t wait that he had to have her now, but maybe that was all wrong. Maybe he was just being self-centered.

Jack took care of ordering the pizza, paying over the phone with his credit card, and somewhere, in that little act of chivalry, Jenna lost it. The tears started flowing before she even knew she was crying.

“There, now, food will help...” Jack dropped the phone back in his pocket and glanced up, seeing her tears for the first time. “Feck sake, luv! What did I do?” Jack froze, looking scared. Of course he did. He was a guy, and she was crying! And she couldn’t stop. She blamed vodka. Seriously, no more vodka!

“I-I-I’m sorry. You’re just so nice. That’s all. The guy I thought I was meeting tonight would’ve never done that.”

“He wouldn’t order you pizza?” Jack look genuinely puzzled.

“Or brought me wine. Or cared how I was feeling.”

“Oh.” Jack seemed to understand. He whipped out a packet of tissues from his pocket and

offered her one. Was there nothing he wasn’t prepared for? She blew her nose into it, knowing she was mid-ugly cry, and waited for Jack to make an excuse to leave. This would’ve been Jax’s cue to exit. He didn’t do well with crying. Or with any real genuine emotion that wasn’t lust.

“Come here, then. Bring ’er here.” He opened his arms wide.

Jenna hesitated. She wanted nothing more than to jump into that big circle of warmth, but something gave her pause. The room dipped a little.

“I won’t fondle you, I promise. Gentleman’s word.” He nodded and she moved into his embrace, feeling silly. Her makeup was probably running halfway down her face. She sure didn’t feel sexy at the moment. His arms felt big and strong and safe, and she cried some more, into his shirt, before she realized she was leaking mascara.

“I’m sorry! Your sweater.” She sniffled, and swiped at her eyes with the crumpled-up tissue.

“I can get a new one.” He shrugged, unoffended. He whipped off the wool cardigan and revealed a plain T-shirt beneath that clung to his clearly defined chest. She found herself staring at it. She didn’t realized her boss worked out, since he mostly wore oxford button-downs to work, but clearly he did. You didn’t get biceps and pecs like that by sitting on your couch playing Xbox. “Why don’t we sit down? You can tell me all about that prize of a boyfriend of yours who starves you and doesn’t listen.”

Jenna barked a laugh, already feeling a little better. She sniffed and headed to the couch, swaying dangerously on her feet. Boy, she’d had far too much to drink. She slipped down into the soft cushions. Jack slid in next to her, his lithe, muscled frame unsettling. She couldn’t stop staring at his chest. Jenna’s weakness was there, the big, solid muscles that she could run her hands over. Jax had an amazing chest, she remembered, and those big, broad shoulders. Jack’s shoulders weren’t bad either. She wondered what it would feel like to grab them, run her hands down his arms.

She mentally shook herself. You’re not sleeping with your boss. This is embarrassing enough!

“You must think I’m a mess.”

“I’m relieved, actually, luv.” She could feel the warmth of his Irish brogue in the pit of her stomach. She sure could listen to him all night, she thought. Or like one of the admins at work said, they’d listen to him read the phone book. There was something to it. “You’re so cool and collected at work. Nothing ever flusters you. It’s good to see you’re human after all.”

“Things fluster me all the time!”

“You don’t show it.” Jack grinned, and Jenna felt suddenly shy. She was very aware of his leg, just six inches from hers on the couch. His shoulders seemed to fill up the space of her small condo living room.

“You never wilt under deadline pressure. Remember the Garner ad? You whipped up a new one in less than an hour without one complaint.”

“Graphic design is easy,” Jenna said. “Relationships are hard.”

Jack nodded, understanding. He crossed one ankle over his knee, his clear blue eyes fixed on hers. “Well, then. Tell me the worst. What’s up with this lad you’re dating?”

“We’re not dating. We broke up.”

“You broke up with a lad, but you’re going to feck him?” Jack tapped a finger on his knee, confused.

“I know how it sounds. It sounds bad, but it was just going to be this last time, and Jax was...”

“Jax? The man’s name is Jax? What? Is he a body spray?”

This caused Jenna to burst out laughing. “No!” she cried. “He played football, or used to. It was his nickname, I guess, from a long time ago.”

“I think you have the right to kick ’im to the curb based on name alone, luv.”

“Fair enough.” Jenna grinned.

“I get it.” Jack nodded sagely, rubbing the sexy scruff on his chin. “An ex you can’t quit, right? Like an addiction?”

“Exactly like one of those.” Jenna leaned forward for emphasis, and her silk robe gaped open. She was just sober enough to tuck herself back in. She noticed Jack’s gaze flick downward. “Yes, yes. That.”

“I had one like that. Back in Dublin.”

“You didn’t!” Jenna couldn’t imagine this man, who was so completely hot in so many ways, having a girl he couldn’t quit.

“My sister, Maeve, says I fall in love too easily, that I’m an easy mark for the wrong kind.” Jack leaned over, his T-shirt straining against the muscles in his chest. Jenna tried to focus on his face, but his piercing blue eyes were too wise and too... intense. The chest was safer. “Well, I fell in a love with a lass named Miranda, and I had it bad. I wanted to marry her, but she just wanted to feck about.” Sadness and regret passed across his face and Jenna felt like shaking Miranda. She knew exactly what it felt like to waste time on someone who was careless with her heart.

At that moment, Jenna realized that she and Jack had quite a lot in common. Horrible exes who didn’t appreciate them, for one thing.

“She was a fool,” Jenna said, leaning forward and touching Jack’s knee. The instant she did it, she realized she’d crossed some invisible barrier. Electricity snapped at the point of contact, and Jack seemed to feel it, too. He stared at her hand and then at her. She no longer cared if her robe gaped open, or if Jack saw her bra. What if... Naughty thoughts danced in her alcohol-addled brain. What if Jack was her rebound? Her logic fuzzy, she’d forgotten completely the problem about sleeping with her boss, or company rules, or fallout. Right now, all she wanted was for him to kiss her.

Jenna moved closer to him, their legs touching, and their eyes met. Suddenly, she realized, this was going to happen. I’m about to kiss my boss.

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