Jill Monroe - Tall, Dark and Filthy Rich

And in case he wasn’t, she’d remind herself what kept him off-limits. Cole Crawford was married. With kids.

COLE LEFT HIS OFFICE and walked toward the studio’s break room. Jessie Huell should already be in the conference room, but he wanted to buy her a can of Coke before he joined her. He found that he was smiling, anticipating seeing her again.

Maybe they could have a laugh over it. He used to buy her a pop while she conjugated his Latin verbs. His dad had ridden his ass hard back then, and she’d been helping him out. After attending school all day and then working at Mr. Martin’s garage all afternoon, he could barely keep his eyes open for homework. Him bringing home a failing grade would have set his old man off.

Cole had probably escaped quite a few smacks due to Jessie’s talent with the future perfect tense. Man, at that time, with his day-to-day survival, he couldn’t even wrap his brain around the idea of the future. Let alone anything being perfect.

He hadn’t allowed himself to think of her. Not in years. What would have been the point? Now, he couldn’t wait to see Jessie, to note the changes time had made. Okay, she probably didn’t still wear her hair in those long braids, but he doubted her sweet smile had altered.

After buying her Coke, Cole rounded the corner and stopped. His skin grew hot. The bold woman with her back to him, reading one of the Just Between Us promo posters, was the kind that should be appreciated. Slowly.

He could spend a lot of time admiring this woman’s butt, so nicely packaged in the short black skirt she wore. Or that sexy stretch of skin between where her skirt ended and her boots began.

Did women know just how damn inviting that length of leg was? And those boots…feminine enough to show off an uninhibited sex appeal, but worn with an attitude that said she’d kick the backside of any man stupid enough to act like a jerk.

His kind of woman. A million carnal fantasies flashed in his mind.

He swallowed, feeling good. This was the first time in a long time he’d responded so physically to someone. But who was she?

The chill of the cold aluminum can finally jerked him back to reality. He needed to find Jessie. Cole looked down the hallway to see if maybe she’d wandered off. She was always curious. It was a trait that often got her into trouble. And had once saved his skin.

Then the woman turned and he forgot the cold.

Cole had been right. He’d never fail to recognize Jessie’s smile. It was still the same, but everything else had changed. She’d grown a little taller, and those shapely legs of hers invited serious appreciation. Her breasts, round and full, drew a man’s eyes. And that mouth, sensual and carnal, promised a lot of wicked things. The woman in front of him could never be called sweet.

Her brown eyes tipped up in the corners with her widening smile. She knew. She knew she’d surprised him, and what’s more, he knew she liked it.

“Hello, Cole. It’s been a while.”

“Little Jessie Huell,” he said, his voice filled with wonder.

She was beautiful. Her lips twisted and she raised an eyebrow. “Not so little anymore.”

As if he needed to be reminded. For some reason, he thought that if he called her little, he might see her as that. Idiot. Was it really Jessie Huell’s mouth he’d just imagined on his own?

She walked toward him slowly. Every step reminding him how long it was since he’d been attracted to someone. A year and a half. A year and a half since his wife had left.

“I bought you a Coke.” The gesture seemed lame now. Men didn’t bring this woman soft drinks. They brought her jewelry.

A soft smile touched her lips. “Like when we studied Latin?”

He nodded as the scent of her ambushed him. She smelled like sunshine, and he was transported back to a time when his whole life had stretched golden before him. A time when the mistakes you made were on geometry tests and missed free throws, not with your life.

“ De oppresso liber ,” she murmured, as her fingers wrapped around the can.

The phrase meant “Free from having been oppressed.” Once, he’d been leaving the garage for their Latin study session. He’d kept her waiting for over forty minutes. She’d gasped when he stretched out in the booth across from her, sporting the beginnings of a black eye. He hadn’t gotten out of his father’s way fast enough that time.

She hadn’t said a thing. Simply wrote the phrase on his notebook. Then below that, she’d written Someday in English. Someday. She didn’t know it, but he’d held on to that bit of encouragement with everything he had. Sometimes it was all he had.

Together, they’d sipped their Cokes in silence. The sun had set, and the crickets started to chirp. With his eye nearly swollen shut, he hadn’t needed another thing but Jessie’s quiet understanding.

That memory told him how dangerous his attraction for her would be. Because he couldn’t need anything. Too many needed him already. A pair of little girls depended on him to make the right decisions.

He dropped his hand from the soda, took a step away from the teasing scent that beckoned to him, and closed his mind to the past. He could do without having his emotions stripped bare right now.

Jessie popped the top of the can and took a sip. “I’ve switched to diet, but every now and then I miss the taste of Coke with sugar. Of course, you probably hear this kind of talk from all the women in the office and your wife.”

“I’m not married.”

She looked up at him sharply.

It was the first time Jessie’s smile slipped.

3

THE ONE THING that had been holding her back from making a complete idiot of herself over seeing him was now gone.

Cole Crawford wasn’t married.

Damn, she really should have paid more attention to her mother’s newsy e-mails about her hometown. That might have prevented the shakiness she felt right now.

Turning, she took a large swallow of pop. The sweet drink gave her body an instant jolt.

Who was she kidding? Cole gave her that jolt. She’d crushed on him big-time. But he’d gone off to college, found someone new and gotten married. Jessie had forced all her feelings for him into a hidden corner of her mind and locked them there.

Now that lock was open and hope was chasing away the shadows. She was suddenly having all kinds of amazing fantasies. Okay, she was playing something far more dangerous than The Speculation Game; instead, she was sporting around in Exaggeration Land. Grrr.

Cole followed her into the conference room, then pulled out one of the chairs at the long table, offering her a seat. At least she could give her weakened knees a break.

Jesse tried to smile politely rather than glare at him. He was supposed to be in some far-off, remote place, being untouchable and gorgeous.

He wasn’t supposed to be right here in Atlanta, being single and a buffet of lick-me kiss-me carnality. If he had to be somewhere near her, he could have at least been sporting a large, protruding gut over those khakis.

She’d bet Cole’s abs would make any male model run home and cry for his mommy.

Dammit.

She took a measured breath. Yes, she was being ridiculous. She was a mature woman who’d built a business from the ground up. And she was here to discuss that business. “Did you want to ask me a few questions?” she said, thrilled that her voice sounded so unaffected.

His eyes narrowed, then he seemed to notice the notebook in his hand, and gave a chagrinned shrug. “I was just getting over the grown-up you. I was expecting braids.”

“I hope I wouldn’t still be wearing the Laura Ingalls look at my age,” she said, as she watched him slide into the chair opposite from her.