Jack Who?

CHAPTER 20

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JACK PULLED HIS kiss from its current locale inside her unbuttoned blouse, and the tiny area hard from the heat of his mouth remained hard when the air cooled it. He promptly cupped his hand warmly over it, playing a different game and brought his lips to hers.

     “So when is Tristan’s next Tylenol dose?”

     “Why?” She managed the playful inquiry despite the current tug of his fingers.

     “You know why…” The question was a hot breath into her ear, eliciting a shiver.

     “Thought you liked it better by yourself.” Brazenly, and still slighted by his actions the previous night, she provoked despite all that had gone down so far tonight.

     “The hell!” His growl was immediate, and her lips curved.

     “You are a jackass for doing that last night…” Her words were light and airy, even using his name as a pun in the curse, but his response was no longer playful.

     His motions stilled, and he locked his gaze onto hers. “No, you are. What you did last night was bitchy beyond belief.”

     There it was. He was mad about last night. Maybe some part of him had tried to understand when she walked out the door, or maybe he had never been accepting. Ultimately, he was mad.

     “You mean going out? I didn’t think you would care…”

     “No. You were testing to see if I cared. At least that’s what it felt like. And I do care.” His weight left her as he leaned against the back of the couch. “Do you know how hard it was to play with our son like nothing was wrong while you were out with some douche?”

     Hot fury blazed in eyes that only minutes ago had blazed with hot desire, and mentally she revised last night’s assessment of failed ‘Phase One.’ It was looking like it had carried off better than she hoped. She didn’t like him being mad at her, and yet it was titillating to find that he was.

     Unsure where to take the phase from here, she simply let her feelings lead.

     “Probably about as hard as the shoe on the other foot.” Her mumble was intelligible enough to catch his attention.

     “What are you talking about?”

     “You partying in LA while I’m sitting around here with our sick kid.” The words were part of the plan at some point, but to actually say them broke her voice. Speaking them aloud also embarrassed her. They were simply parents joined by circumstance, and she was acting out as if they were a real mother and father with a relationship. Mortified at her outburst, she was about to look away when something in his expression changed.

     “Momma, Mom, Mom, Mooommma!” From down the hall, the growling chant began.

     Jack’s steadfast gaze never left her face, and he incredulously denied, “I wasn’t!”

     His indignant astonishment threw her, and again she reflected on the internet picture and what it portrayed. “It seemed like you were. Creeping around with your ex and all!”

     “My ex?”

     “The ‘lingerina.’” When he continued blankly contemplating the made up word, she huffed with all the haughtiness of Tristan when he had to explain himself. “The underwear model!”

     His laughter was abrupt, and just as abruptly his mirth dissipated. Quietly, he studied the frown she felt on her face, and she made an effort to relax those muscles. She wasn’t sure what or why she was feeling whatever this was, and she damn sure didn’t want him privy to these confused reactions.