Jinxed (9 page)

“Damn! Frannie, it’s me.”

“Oh my Gawd, don’t do that!” She ripped the earphones from her ears and jumped off the counter, her face a curious mixture of shame, irritation and concern.

“Don’t do what, bleed on the floor?” His sarcasm was muffled by the hands cupped against his nose. He reached for a paper towel but Frannie was faster. A dishcloth lay on the counter. She snatched it and pressed it to his face then guided him to the barstool. With her hand behind his neck, she tilted his head back. His pain ebbed away but her outrage was still vibrant.

“What in the hell were you thinking? Never sneak up on a woman like that. We freak out.”

“No shit,” he sneered.

Her lip curled sarcastically upward and she pushed on the cloth harder. The sharp stabbing pain returned and his eyes watered. “Ow! Are you trying to break my nose?”

“Sorry.”

Through blurry eyes, he saw her face soften. Her fingers left his neck and stroked his hair above his collar. The feel of her touch, caring and soothing, distracted him, removed the sting. It made him feel cherished, special and totally loved. At this moment, every smidgeon of her attention was focused on him. The simple act touched him in a powerful way and was worth every drop of blood.

After a peek beneath the dish cloth, she smiled. “It’s stopped bleeding. Let’s see it.”

Jinx pulled the cloth away. She stared, turning her head this way and that, looking at him from all angles. Water rushed with a loud echo in the still room as she wet the cloth corner and wiped at his sticky nose and lip.

“There. The blood’s all gone. It doesn’t look broken. How does it feel?”

“Fine.” He swallowed, unable to say more. Curling his hands around her hips, he pulled her to stand between his knees.

She laid the bloodied towel aside and circled his neck with her arms. “I’m sorry. You scared me. I didn’t hear you come in and just lashed out.”

“That’s the second time you have drawn blood.” His chest rumbled with the depth of his voice and he cocked one eyebrow. “Don’t you want to kiss and make it better?”

With a small exasperated shake of her head, she smiled and leaned toward him. Her lips grazed the tip of his nose. He pulled her close and took her mouth in his.

As he drank in the taste of her kisses, his cock leapt into awareness. Last night she had tempted him, teased him, taunted him. If the damned phone hadn’t rung, he would have pulled her panties aside and buried himself inside her. When she slid away, his libido had roared in protest. She had wanted him as much as he wanted her. He could feel it. Taste it. Smell it.

Just the feel of her firm breasts touching his chest now did amazing things to him. Her fingers in his hair felt like tiny electric currents, zapping him, sending shockwaves down his spine. Her tongue skated across his teeth before diving into his mouth. After one last hard kiss, she laid her head on his shoulder and pressed tight to him. He knew she felt how hard he was growing. Her hips were planted snugly against him.

“We need to talk about last night.” Though soft and quiet, her words held awesome power and his breath froze. That didn’t sound good.

“Okay. Let’s talk.”

She pulled back to look directly into his face and bit her lip. Her fathomless brown eyes, so much like smooth southern whiskey, stared into his soul. A voracious thirst consumed him and he craved the blissful oblivion of her love.
Please believe, Frannie
. Her fingers walked up his chest, crossing his pounding heart, where a few drops of drying blood rested. She looked so serious.

Uh-oh.

“Things kind of got out of hand. I—we need to slow down a bit.”

Jinx mentally heard an old-fashioned record slam to a stop,
skriiiitch,
its needle grating across the grooves. Slow down. She wanted to slow down. As in slow down. As in slow. Down.

“Slow,” he repeated as his balls sank in stunned rejection. He was so damned hot for her he could pop and she wanted to slow down?

Before he could say anything more, his heart stood up and smacked him in the head—both of them. If she needed slow, then slow is what she would get. He had the rest of his life to make love to her. The prolonged delay before the first time would make it much sweeter when he finally delved into her.

“Slow is good. We can go as slow as you want.” He hoped he sounded convincing. Although he didn’t want to push her too fast, it didn’t mean he wasn’t disappointed. He foresaw a lot of frigid showers in his future. Her beaming smile was almost enough to make him feel better. Almost but not quite. “I’m glad you used the mailbox key. How long have you been waiting?”

Glancing at the microwave clock, Frannie calculated. “Oh, about three hours now.”

“Three hours? Damn, Frannie, when I asked you to come over early I didn’t mean the asscrack of dawn. I must have just missed you. I left a bit after seven.”

“Yeah, I wondered where you had gotten to. I figured maybe you had another girlfriend and stayed over at her place.”

He started to protest but the stiffness she had to force into her lips to hide her smile must have given her teasing away. His brows almost met in the middle from an exaggerated frown but he could not maintain the pretense. One long finger tapped her on the nose as he laughed. “Of course not. I went to the gym early and then had a few errands to run. I thought I’d be back sooner but traffic’s a bitch.”

“Hmm, ’tis the season, you know,” Frannie murmured absently, dismayed how pleased she was he hadn’t been with another woman. The thought hadn’t even occurred to her until she used it to bait him. She had no rights to him, told herself she didn’t want them. Still, his denial had sent waves of joy through her. Her relief should have scared her. It might have if she took enough time to examine it. Instead, she changed the topic.

“So what do we have to do for this shindig of yours?”

“Nothing. Everything I needed to do, I did last night.” He looked sheepishly at her. “The housekeeper was here yesterday, so there wasn’t much and I had a lot of energy to burn off when I came home.”

Frannie blushed and avoided his eyes. Energy was one way to put it. Flaming hormones from hell was another.

Beneath half-lowered lids, she watched him and secretly smiled. Phase one of Operation Bedding Jinx had been initiated. By telling him she needed to cool things down, she had sent his mind reeling. She could almost taste his disappointment. But it opened the door for all those innocent accidental flirtations she had planned for later. He would never see it coming.

{

“You’re crazy.”

“What? It’s cereal.”

“Jinx, these are
my
groceries. I don’t like Cap’n Crunch.” Jaw in a stubborn thrust, Frannie grabbed the cereal box and handed it to him.

He put it back in the cart with a small roll of his eyes. “Chill out, dollface. I’m at your place more than my own. I’m just getting a few of life’s most basic needs.”

“Cap’n Crunch is a basic need in life?”

“Of course.”

“You are certifiable.”

“No, absolutely not.”

“Now what?”

“Look, Jinx. I okayed the cereal. I allowed the protein drink and ice cream and two different kinds of chips. But no one, and I mean no one, brings sardines into my house.” She snatched the hateful item from the cart and slapped it against his chest. “They stink.”

“Frannie, shhhh, people are staring.”

Her eyes widened at his embarrassment. He nodded to several people who hurried by them in the aisle. “This from the man who carried me ass first into a restaurant? Now you are worried about people looking at us?”

“Just hush, okay. One tin. I only want one tiny little tin of sardines.” Jinx smiled at a blue-haired woman who stared at them with a sucking prunes expression.

Frannie smirked. Finally there was one woman on the planet who didn’t turn to Jell-O at his charm. She should have waited to count those chickens.

He leaned toward the dour woman and confided. “You’ll have to forgive her. She’s a bit emotional. Pregnancy hormones.”

With a sharp loud gasp, Frannie stared at him in shock.
Oh no, he hadn’t.

The older woman smiled at her with a softened expression on her formerly sour face. Tiny lines crinkled at the corners of Jinx’s dancing eyes as the harsh fluorescent lights shimmered in their black depths.

Oh yes, he had.

Her teeth clamped together, she grabbed his arm and dragged him away before he could ask the old biddy for breastfeeding advice. She pulled him around the corner to stand beside the toothpaste.

“Are you crazy? Why did you tell her I was pregnant?”

“It sounded nicer than the truth, okay?”

“What, that you have round-trip tickets on the Bi-Polar Express?”

“No, that you have a stick so far up your ass I should call you lollipop. Lighten up, dollface.” He dropped a light kiss on her lips and grinned to take the sting from his words.

With white knuckles, Frannie whipped the cart in the other direction and took off at fast clip. Jinx jogged up behind her.

“Where are you going?”

“Produce.” Her voice was low and forced past clenched teeth. “I need to wrap my hands around something and squeeze. Hard.”

Frannie looked at her list. Only one item remained and there was no way in hell she was going to buy tampons with Jinx by her side. She would just have to stop after work one day this week and pick up a box.

Her cart was nearly overflowing, something that never happened when she shopped for herself. Jinx had added this and that, mostly junk food. No wonder he’d had to hit the gym this morning. Any man who consumed as much sugar as he did would weigh four hundred pounds if he didn’t. But Jinx was solid, well-muscled and so damn yummy. The memory of his oaken arms around her made her stomach quiver and dip. She needed to step up her plan and then get rid of him for a few hours. She wanted to prepare for this night as she had for no other since her ill-fated wedding night.

Jinx packed the bags into her trunk and then followed behind her small car. Her eyes narrowed, seeing him drive and talk on his cell. He flipped the phone closed and she gave into impulse. She dug into her purse for her phone and dialed his number.

“Sullivan.” His deep voice stole her breath for a split second. It was buttered rum—warm, sexy and silky smooth.

“Talking to your girlfriend, were you?”

His white teeth gleamed through the windshield. “I am now. You shouldn’t talk and drive. It isn’t safe.”

“You did it.”

“I’m crazy, remember?”

Frannie couldn’t stop the snort that escaped her lips. “No shit.”

“Miss Frannie!” he admonished. “How unladylike.”

“Want to see unladylike?”

Frannie flipped him the bird in the mirror and snapped the phone shut. But not before she heard his rich laughter. Euphoric bubbles formed in her stomach. He laughed all the way back to her place.

After the cold groceries were put away, Jinx tossed the rectangular tin of sardines in the air, caught it and beamed a smile at her. “Call the killer cat for me, dollface.”

Frannie rolled her eyes but clicked her tongue and trilled out, “
Kittykittykittykitty
.” Two black comets sped into the kitchen and looked around, warbling in the expectation of a treat. Hocus spied Jinx and spat out a loud hissing growl. Jinx popped the top on the sardines and knelt, extending it toward the angry cat. Hocus flattened his ears, deepened his growl to a guttural tone and hunched his shoulders. Pocus on the other hand attempted to crawl into the tiny, fragrant tin.

“Come on, cat.” Coaxing with gentle tones, he prevented one cat from diving in while he enticed the other. “I don’t bite.”

The cat, however, did. Or at least, he tried. Jinx was a fraction of a second faster and yanked his hand out of the cat’s path, dropping the sardines in a smelly heap. The twin balls of ebony fluff descended on the spilled gift like locusts on Egypt. With her lips pressed firm to hide a laugh at Jinx’s crestfallen expression, Frannie shook her head.

“Give it up. He doesn’t like men. He even growls at Steve.” Her arms laden with several boxed goods, she walked into the pantry and flipped the light switch. Nothing. The bulb had blown. She shoved the food stuff onto a shelf, grabbed the folded stepstool and climbed up. She had the glass globe removed when she felt Jinx’s hands at her waist.

“I’d have done that.”

“I can manage, thank you. It doesn’t take a man to change a light bulb. Just hand me one off the shelf behind you, will you?”

He handed her the bulb and returned his hands to her hips. Although she was in no danger of falling, Frannie relished the safety they represented. He was protecting her from gravity. It was sweet. She stretched high to tighten the bulb, his hands firmly around her hips. Her tee shirt rose high on her belly and her yoga pants slipped a fraction downward. Light blazed into the room. And then the top half of her ass was exposed.

Jinx stood openmouthed, staring at her backside, the waist of her low-cut yoga pants in his hand. His voice was a husky awed whisper. “Frannie, you have a tramp stamp.”

“I do not,” she tossed over her shoulder.

“A tattoo over your buttcrack, no matter how small, is a tramp stamp. And you, dollface, definitely have one.”

“No.” Her grip on the hip-level stepstool bar threatened to break her knuckles. She dared not turn around, her face three escalating degrees of heat. She had all but forgotten she even had that blasted tattoo. “A huge tattoo splayed across the entire small of your back is a tramp stamp. I don’t have one of those. I have a small, nicely colored design acquired after one too many margaritas with Tracey.”

“You have a two-inch-high Marvin Martian above your ass.” His laughter almost bubbled out as he teased her.

“He happens to be a classic cartoon icon.”

The spinster-like quality in her voice made her wince.
Could you possibly sound any more uptight, Frannie?
She should have turned the discovery of her ink into a seductive thing. He was looking at her ass, for Gawd’s sake. The back of her pants were still down and cool air swirled around her buttocks even as his heated gaze warmed her flesh. But no, she turned into Miss Prim and Prissy instead. Her mind raced for a way to turn this into a sexual thing.