Wendy Etherington - Can't Help Falling In Love

His body still vibrating from her kiss, Jack narrowed his eyes, starting after her. What was she up to?

“I’LL CALL YOU next week about your order, Flash,” Skyler said, then glanced back and saw Jack working his way across the bar. Damn, damn, damn. He’d never believe Flash and her “gang” were customers of the shop. What in the world was he doing at a biker bar anyway? Didn’t he know the cops and firefighters all hung out at The Corner Pub in town? And what in heaven’s name had possessed her to kiss him?

“Great. Thanks for finding my wallet and bringin’ it way out here,” Flash said, punching Skyler’s shoulder lightly.

Wincing from the friendly jab, Skyler backed away from the table. “No problem. I—” She couldn’t get the words “come here all the time” past her lips again. “I was glad to do it for such a terrific customer. See ya.” She waggled her fingers, then spun to intercept Jack before he reached them.

Too late, she thought somewhat hysterically as she plowed into his wide chest. She bounced off the hard muscle and would have fallen flat on her butt if he hadn’t grabbed her by the waist. Why did the man have to be so attentive…so “gorgeous and available,” as she’d overheard at least fifty times during the week from the stream of helpful gossips passing through her shop. Only Roland was disappointed in Jack’s attributes. “Straight,” he’d informed her mournfully.

Once she found the courage to look up, her gaze connected with his. Big mistake. Those soulful brown eyes belonged on a child, not a full-grown man. And, heavens, did he have great lips. She wanted them on hers again…and again. Desire trembled through her veins.

“Are you okay, chère?” he asked.

And that accent…whew. “Just super,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t question her further. Their explosive kiss had left her light-headed—which he didn’t have to know about—so her biker customers had come as a welcome distraction. But, as usual, she was now questioning her impulse.

“What was that all about?” he asked, nodding to the women behind her.

Living up to those brash Kimball genes was damn overwhelming sometimes. She shrugged. A girl’s gotta do… “Flash is a customer.”

Jack raised one black eyebrow. “Flash?”

She stepped out of his embrace, crossing her arms over her chest. “The brunette in the middle—the one with the blond streaks in her hair.”

“She’s a customer?” He smirked. “Somehow I don’t picture her seeped in lace and tradition.”

“Maybe she likes lace and tradition.”

Both eyebrows darted up. “I’m sure.”

Ha! She’d found another flaw. The man was quick to judge, dangerous, way too tempting and…leaving. Atlanta was his future. The perfect opportunity. Losing him wasn’t just an irrational fear of his job—it was assured.

Well, she didn’t want to win him anyway.

With her index finger, she poked Jack so hard in the chest he actually stumbled back, though only in surprise. “Look here, you arrogant, judgmental, luscious—”

Walking backward, he grinned. “Luscious?”

Blood red clouded her vision. “You egotistical, daredevil…man!” She drew a deep breath before continuing her tirade. “It’s been a really long week, and I don’t have the time or the inclination to explain to you the finer points of retail sales management, except to say you never…and I mean never prejudge a customer. The woman who walks through my front door wearing ripped blue jeans and a ratty T-shirt may have more money than the queen of England. Flash and her friends have the right to shop anywhere they please, regardless of what any close-minded creep thinks about their purchases!”

Jack’s jaw hardened. “Creep?”

Flash appeared at her side. “Problem, Skyler?”

Skyler spared a brief glance at her customer. “No. This is a personal thing.”

“Right. A problem.” Flash’s dark eyes narrowed. She advanced toward Jack, her gang flanking her. “He may look big, honey, but trust me the girls and I can handle him.”

“No. Really, I can—”

Before Skyler could finish, Flash swung.

Instinctively, Skyler stepped in front of Jack. The fist intended for Jack’s jaw landed squarely against Skyler’s left eye.

“Oh, damn,” she muttered just before she jolted backward against Jack’s chest and passed out cold.

“SKYLER…CAN YOU HEAR ME?” Jack’s voice sounded as if it was echoing down a long tunnel.

Skyler moaned, then blinked. She lay on the floor of the bar, with Jack’s arm cradling her neck. His handsome face loomed over her, along with Flash, her gang and several other people she didn’t recognize.

“Hey, Gus, how about some ice?” Jack suggested.

“Frozen peas are better,” someone said.

Flash shoved the speaker. “Where are we gonna get frozen peas, stupid?”

“Hey, babe,” the guy next to Flash said, his eyes narrowing, “don’t push him.”

Flash grabbed the front of his shirt. “Shut up!”

“Uh—” Skyler began, trying to raise her head, but the pounding around her eye forced her to lie back down.

Jack’s fiercely concerned face and wide chest suddenly blocked her view of the other people, though she could still hear Flash shouting at someone. “I’m gonna carry you to a booth, oui?” Caution darkened his eyes. After her tirade earlier, she could hardly blame him.

She tried to nod, found that hurt, so she mumbled, “Please.”

Held next to Jack’s firm, muscled chest two times in the same day, she marveled. Maybe her luck with men was changing. Right. Punched in the eye and near discovery of her secret. Her luck was changing all right, and not for the better.

Even though proximity to Jack was a bad idea and pain pulsed through her eye, she couldn’t help but inhale the smoky, spicy scent emanating from his skin. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, his muscles bunched, and she let him coddle her. An impulse she’d regret like so many others, no doubt.

When he placed her in the vinyl booth, she sighed with regret.

Gus handed Jack a plastic bag of crushed ice. “Try this.”

Jack laid the cold pack against her face, and she flinched. “Sorry.” He cradled her cheek in his palm. “It’ll help the swelling.”

“Swelling?” Perfect. She might never look in a mirror again. And how in the world was she going to explain this to her brothers?

Across the room several voices rose in volume, but Skyler had her own troubles at the moment, so she pushed aside the distraction. Now that the initial stinging from the ice had passed, the cold had numbed the area enough for her to think straight again.

She had to get out of here. Immediately. Quietly. Just after she gained the sworn silence of everyone in the bar. The black eye she would no doubt have in the morning would be hard enough to explain—maybe she could go for the old “walked into a door” story—but she couldn’t let her brothers find out about Jack’s connection to her injury. He’d get fired, or worse, thinking again of Boyfriend #2—the lake dweller. Glug, glug, glug…

Leaning sideways, she considered her need to protect Jack only briefly—she shouldn’t, couldn’t care—as she peered around his wide shoulders, hoping to spot a back door.

Instead, she saw Flash shove someone. Flanking their leader, her friends planted their fists on their hips. The men across from them leaned forward, their jaws jutted forward. The antagonists began circling each other. The other bar patrons backed away to watch. Money was exchanged.

Central Casting couldn’t have scripted a better rumble.

“I’m taking you to the firehouse,” Jack said. “I have meds and—”

Distracted from the alarming scene across the bar, Skyler blinked up at Jack. Then ground her teeth together from the pain of focusing. “I just want to go home.” The crowd cheered. God only knew what was happening with the fight. “Now.” She scooted by Jack out of the booth.