Pros & Cons (6 page)

Jenna runs to the bathroom while I angrily twist the dead bolt and jerk the door open.

“Is there a problem, Sally?”

“You remember my name!” Her voice has this dreamy, drunk quality. I notice the bottle of cheap wine in her hands. And the two glasses. “I thought you might like some company. It’s a big ol’ room for one tiny person.”

Great
.

My ears may be deceiving me, but I swear I hear Jenna’s giggle coming from the bathroom.

I sigh heavily. Clearly, I’d been too friendly, and that was obviously a mistake because the woman’s a cougar. Sure, I’d flirted a little, but for this middle-aged woman to show up on my doorstep with a bottle of booze and expect
anything
is completely ridiculous.

I flash my pearly whites. “Look, Sally, this is really nice of you, but I’ve got to get some sleep. I’m hitting the road pretty early tomorrow.”

“Leaving so soon?” She pouts, and tries to look sexy while doing so. It’s just sad, really.

“Yep. Headed home. So, if you don’t mind—”

“Going home to see your mom? That’s so nice.”

What little patience I have left finally evaporates.

“Yeah, she’s really great. She’s about your age, actually.”

Sally’s eyes grow wide with hurt, and I sorta feel guilty, but then I remember a certain brown-eyed beauty who’s hiding in my bathroom, and suddenly, I don’t give two shits about the lonely motel manager.

“Good night,” I tell her, promptly slamming the door in her face. I lock it and make sure the dead bolt is secure.

Jenna walks back into the room. “Geez, Summers.”

“What?”

“Harsh.”

“She wasn’t taking the hint.”

With hungry eyes, I watch as she lies down on the bed. The T-shirt and oversized sweatpants aren’t meant to be sexy at all, but they are. Or maybe that’s just her.

“You have to be careful with that Summers’ charm.”

“You think I’m charming?”

“Did I say that out loud?”

“You sure did.”

Jenna sighs and turns onto her side, watching me as I climb back into bed. “You know you’re charming. It’s your claim to fame.”

“That hurts a little.”

The moment’s gone . . . again . . . because we’re back to our bickering.

“I’m not saying you aren’t a talented con artist. But we both know you make it a habit of charming the pants off women.”

I actually haven’t charmed the pants off any woman in a very long time. Coop and I have differing opinions as to why this is so. I insist I’m simply bored and need a challenge. He disagrees, claiming I have only one woman—and one pair of pants—on my mind.

He’s not wrong.

“Why do you do it?” she asks softly, her voice suddenly weary with exhaustion.

“Con?”

She nods.

“A regular nine-to-five job isn’t for me. I’m good at this. It’s actually the only thing I’m good at. We’re respected, we have more money than we’ll ever need, and we’ve finally gotten to the point that we can be selective when it comes to jobs.”

Her eyes grow heavy, but I selfishly don’t want her to go to sleep. This is the first real conversation we’ve ever had.

“What about you? Why do you do it?”

“Why am I a thief? It’s a really long story.”

“We have all night.”

She pulls the blanket closer to her chin. “When I was in college, Mom was diagnosed with cancer. Stage 4 melanoma. My dad’s insurance wouldn’t cover her treatments. Not that they really did any good. She was dead within eighteen months.”

“I’m didn’t know. I’m sorry, Jenna.”

“Thanks. That’s why I started hustling pool—to help pay for her treatments. At first, it wasn’t a lot of money, but it was way more than waiting tables or flipping burgers. Then I hooked up with Abby—who was brilliant—and paying for Mom’s treatments became one less thing for my dad to worry about. He asked where I got the money, and I told him I was bartending. He didn’t believe me, but he also didn’t ask any questions when the bigger checks started rolling in. The truth is, they needed the money, and it was the one thing I could do to help make their lives a little easier. It was a no-brainer. After Mom died, Dad tried to convince me to stop doing whatever I was doing. I think he suspected I was stripping. Or dealing drugs. But by that time we were really successful, and we loved the adrenaline rush. And we’re good at it. The best, maybe. Or maybe the second best. It doesn’t matter. There are plenty of jobs to go around.”

“Do you ever think about getting out?”

“I don’t, but I think Abby is starting to.”

“So is Coop.”

She smiles and closes her eyes. “I think they will. They’re good for each other. I’ll miss my partner, but I get it. They’re in love. They want some normalcy. I won’t try to stop her.”

While I want nothing more than to keep talking, I know she’s wiped out. I gently stroke her cheek before throwing back the blanket.

Her eyes snap open. “Where are you going?”

“To the chair. Unless you’re really serious about making me sleep on the floor.”

Jenna giggles softly. “You can sleep here if you want.”

“Yeah?”

She nods and closes her eyes. Within seconds, her soft snores fill the air. I snuggle as close as I dare, and when her warm hand wraps around mine, I nearly stop breathing.

With the Georgia moonlight seeping through the curtains, I watch her face as she sleeps. As gently as possible, I let my fingertip trace the shape of her mouth. Her lips part with a shaky breath, and I quickly pull my hand away.

Suddenly, I’m very glad the motel manager interrupted us, because I have a feeling we’re kidding ourselves.

One kiss would never be enough.

The next morning, Ethan and I separately check out of the motel, and the four of us hit the road. The lovebirds pile into the backseat again while Ethan drives down the two-lane highway toward the small county airport. He seemed surprised when I handed him the keys to our rental, but I’m far too confused and disoriented to operate heavy machinery.

This morning, I woke up in Ethan Summers’ arms.

Abby had smiled knowingly when he and I met them at the car, and I tried to convey with my eyes that absolutely nothing happened, but I know something did. And it’s completely unnerving.

Ethan and I actually had a conversation last night—an honest talk without shameless flirting or sexy banter—and I’m not really sure how to act around him now. Normally, he’d be tossing out infuriating, charming comments and I’d be throwing them back in his face, but now . . .

“What are you thinking?” Ethan asks, keeping his eyes planted firmly on the road and his hands on the wheel. Strong hands, with long fingers. Fingers that had been traveling up and down my spine when I woke up this morning.

“Nothing. You?”

“Nothing.”

We’re terrible liars.

Two planes await us at the hangar. I recognize Ethan’s plane, and I can’t help but smile when Gabe waves in our direction. Since he and I are both headed north, it makes sense that we fly together. Abby and Coop are flying out west to visit their families. The second pilot appears as we grab our bags from the trunk, and he and Gabe discuss the weather. While the guys load the luggage, Abby pulls me aside.

“Well?”

I play dumb. “Well, what?”

Abby scrutinizes my face before smiling brightly.

“Coop owes me a thousand bucks.”

“Do I even want to know why?”

“He bet me a thousand dollars you wouldn’t be able to resist Summers’ charm, but I told him you’d hang tough. I’m clearly the winner since I can tell by the disappointed looks on your faces that nothing happened last night.”

“Congratulations,” I mutter. “And no, nothing happened, although he did get propositioned by the motel manager.”

I look past her shoulder and catch Ethan staring at me while Coop talks to the second pilot.

“You’re blushing!”

“Shut up!” I swallow nervously. “Am I?”

Abby grins. “Something you want to tell me?”

Yes.

“Nope.”

“You’re lying.”

I sigh. “Fine. We stayed up late talking . . .
just
talking. We fell asleep next to each other, and I woke up in his arms.”

“And . . .”

“And, it was . . . kind of nice. There! Happy?”

She practically beams. “Why are you fighting this? You know you’re perfect for each other.”

“I know nothing. Besides, it couldn’t possibly end well.”

“Who says it has to end? Not all relationships have unhappy endings.” Abby looks over her shoulder. Coop’s watching her with the sweetest expression on his face. “Take us, for instance. We are determined to make this work. I really love him, Jenna.”

I smile. “I know you do. Listen, I want you to enjoy your vacation and forget about my love life. You
can
call me occasionally. You know, just to let me know you miss me.”

Abby hugs me, and I nearly whimper. She’s a powerful hugger.

“Love you, Jenna Michelle.”

“Love you, Abigail Rose.”

We aren’t out of each other’s sight very often, but when we are, we’re sure to say goodbye with those words. Abby’s my best friend and we live an unpredictable, dangerous life. We aren’t overly sappy or affectionate, but I’d gladly take a bullet for her, and I know the feeling’s mutual.

After the four of us say our goodbyes, Ethan and I follow Gabe onboard the plane.

“Miss York,” Gabriel says with a smile, tipping an imaginary hat in greeting. I hear Ethan sigh loudly before motioning me toward the chairs.

“It’s nice to see you again, Gabe. I really appreciate the lift.”

“My pleasure. Do you need any help with your seatbelt?”

I swear I hear Ethan growl.

“I think I can handle it. Thanks.”

Gabe gives me a wink while Ethan shoots daggers at his pilot. I know Gabe’s just trying to get a rise out of Summers—and it’s working—but I can’t help but wonder if he’s honestly jealous.

That would be hilarious.

The plane ride isn’t long, but it’s quiet. I spend the hour pretending to read my email while Ethan pretends to read a bio on Stonewall Jackson. The silence is deafening. With the playful banter long gone, I realize Ethan is as freaked out as I am. That’s not to say the electricity that always crackles between us is gone. It’s there, and if anything, it’s stronger than ever.

By the time we finally land, my confusion has turned into aggravation. Why doesn’t he say anything? And why do I care? Totally frustrated and ready to escape, I grab my bag and angrily rush off the plane as soon as Gabe opens the hatch. I mutter my thanks and head straight inside to pick up my rental. It’s still a two-hour drive to Strawberry Flatts, and even though it’s early, I’m tempted to find a hotel and spend the day in bed with a tub of Ben and Jerry’s before dealing with my dad tomorrow.

When did I become such a girl?

With my key in hand, I quickly turn, and naturally, I run right into Ethan’s broad chest.

I’m livid. “Why are you following me?”

“Aren’t you even going to say goodbye?”

“Aren’t you going to say
anything
? We spent an hour on a plane and you didn’t say a word to me. Why do you suddenly care?”

Ethan’s eyes flash with a mixture of hurt and anger as he grabs my elbow and leads me toward the rental car parking lot. The car is easy enough to find, and I’ve just tossed my bag into the trunk and slammed it shut when I feel his hands wrap around my waist. He spins me around, and I unconsciously grip his shirt, pulling him closer until his chest is pressed to mine. Ethan’s breathing is rough as he leans close, and my entire body trembles when he trails his lips across my cheek.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he says, his voice rough and low. “I’m kissing you because you’re beautiful. I’m kissing you because you make me crazy. And I’m kissing you because, I pray once I do, I’ll finally be able to get you out of my head.”

He doesn’t even give me a chance to argue. His mouth collides with mine in a punishing assault that makes my knees buckle. A soft moan escapes my throat when his tongue finds mine, and my fingers entwine in his hair, pulling him forcefully until there isn’t a breath of air between us. With a groan that curls my toes, he kisses me roughly, and I kiss him right back, letting myself drown in his touch as years of pent-up frustration finally dissipate into something electrifying and dizzying and real.