All Messed Up: Windy City Kink, Book 2

If he’s a mistake, she’s ready to make him her
favorite
mistake.

Windy City Kink, Book 2

Mallory Hurst has tried to live a life that makes up for past mistakes. But now she faces a huge ethical dilemma. Her pharmaceutical company’s unapproved, off-label use of a medication puts lives at risk, and her protests have fallen on deaf ears.

Hoping a trip home will clear her head, she boards a plane for California. And strikes up a conversation with a handsome stranger.

Joe Mason recently learned that the man he’s called father all his life…isn’t. At least that explains why he never measured up to his older brothers. Flying to meet his biological father for the first time, he meets a sleek, sexy woman who makes him want to mess up her perfect hair.

Shared conversation leads to a shared drink between flights, then when their flight is canceled, a shared bed overnight—where their rush of attraction explodes into a night of much-needed kinky fun.

Yet a night of hot, messy sex won’t fix anything—in fact, blowing off steam could have blown their lives all to hell…

Warning: Contains a hot cop, a neat and tidy executive, dirty talk, kink in an airport, mile-high shenanigans, a little foot fetish fun. And love, of course.

All Messed Up

Kelly Jamieson

Dedication

Special thanks to Kate Davies whose real-life nightmare trip home from New Orleans provided such great details for Mallory and Joe’s story!Also thanks to Skylar Kade for the Greek endearment. And to them and the rest of my Naughty Nine with whom I was in New Orleans when writing this book—PG Forte, Kinsey Holley, Erin Nicholas, Juniper Bell, and Meg Benjamin—I love you all.

Chapter One

“Boarding would go a lot faster if people just waited their turn.”

Mallory Hurst reclined in the vinyl seat in O’Hare International Airport in Chicago, her phone with her electronic boarding pass on it in her hand, and turned to look at the man two seats over who’d just spoken to her. She gave him a wry smile. “True.”

Nearly everyone else in the area had leaped from their seats as soon as the gate attendant had announced pre-boarding, but she and this guy were still sitting. “I mean, it’s not as if they’re not going to get on the plane,” he continued. “We all have assigned seats.”

“It won’t leave without you either,” she agreed. “Especially if your checked baggage is on it. They’ll hunt you down.”

“You’re a seasoned traveler.” He lifted an eyebrow, smiling.

He was hot.

Those were the first words that came to mind as she studied him. He looked around her age, which was thirty-one, maybe even a couple years younger than she. His golden brown hair was cut short, a little longer on top, very thick and tousled, and sideburns turned into just the right amount of whisker stubble over his square jaw and upper lip. He too lounged in his chair, slouched back, with long, long legs in faded jeans stretched out in front of him.

“I travel quite a bit for work,” she agreed. “And my family lives in Los Angeles, so I visit them as often as I can. How about you? Travel a lot?”

“Not a lot. If I had more vacation time, I’d travel more. Sure don’t travel for my job.” He grinned.

His mouth was wide and his smile was steal-your-breath appealing, crinkling up his eyes and flashing his straight white teeth.

“What do you do?” she asked.

“I’m a cop.”

She nodded. “Cool.”

“You? What do you do that requires you to travel a lot?”

She pursed her lips briefly. “I’m Senior Marketing Development Manager at a pharmaceutical company. We have offices in Los Angeles and London, so I sometimes have to travel there for meetings.” Talking about her work made her stomach tighten unpleasantly.

The gate agent announced boarding for passengers seated in the rear of the plane. Mallory glanced at her boarding pass on her phone to make sure she had the row right. Not that it mattered. Nearly everyone was lined up already. The people sitting in the front rows would be blocking the aisle for everyone else as they wrestled their bags into the overhead compartments.

“Man, I am really grouchy,” she murmured, mostly to herself, aware of the familiar tension she’d been carrying in her neck and shoulders.

But the guy she’d been talking to grinned. “Does that mean this is a business trip?”

She grimaced. “I’m actually on vacation for a week. Going to see my parents.”

“Sounds like maybe you need a vacation.” His eyes and smile were sympathetic. “Stressful job?”

“Um. Yeah. Sometimes.” That was an epic understatement lately. She smiled determinedly. “A week off will be nice.”

One week. One week to get her head on straight and figure out what the hell she was going to do with the monumental dilemma she faced. In one week, she’d be flying home to Chicago with a decision made or a plan formulated.

Maybe. Hopefully.

Frack.

She stared at the pointy toes of her black boots visible beneath the hem of her black pants. Her insides tightened even more at the pressure that built inside her.

The guy she’d been talking to rose to his feet and picked up a backpack. She blinked.

“Rows one through ten,” he confirmed. “Come on, let’s get in line.”

She slung her purse over her shoulder and pulled her little carry-on suitcase behind her. Her new acquaintance gestured for her to go in front of him with impressive chivalry and she smiled at him. He was tall, now that they were standing side by side, well over six feet. The long, black, leather jacket he wore emphasized broad shoulders, hanging open over a thin gray sweater layered over a white T-shirt.

“Where are you sitting?” he asked her.

“Row eight, seat C.”

He nodded. “I’m in the first row. I need the leg room.”

She could see that.

She held out her phone for the agent to scan her boarding pass and tramped down the gangway, passing through a draft of cold air as she stepped into the plane. She stowed her small bag, removed her jacket and shoved it into the overhead compartment as well, then slipped into her aisle seat. As she did, she couldn’t resist peering to the front of the plane where the man she’d been talking to was taking his seat. At the same moment, he glanced her way and their eyes met.

His smile gave her a warm tingle down low inside and her breath caught a bit.

She shifted back in her seat, breaking the eye contact, and sighed. A very attractive man. And the way he looked at her made her think he found her attractive too. Too bad they weren’t sitting closer together…gah! What was she thinking? She did not do things like flirt with a stranger on an airplane.

Although flirting with a stranger would take her mind off the ugly crap that kept circling inside her head.

She organized herself for takeoff, pulling her small tablet computer out of her purse to read on once they were in the air, doing up her seatbelt and then flipping through a magazine she’d brought to read when electronics weren’t permitted.

Once they were airborne and the beverage cart made its way to her, she opened her mouth to request a coffee then paused when the man next to her ordered a double vodka. She never drank when she traveled on business, but this wasn’t business. Maybe a drink would help relax her. So she requested white wine.

The first leg of her trip to Los Angeles required a change of planes in Denver. Booking at the last minute meant she hadn’t been able to get a direct flight. Annoying, but not the end of the world. As they taxied toward the terminal in Denver after landing, she double-checked her boarding pass for the gate and time of her next flight. She had two hours.

Walking into the terminal, she found herself looking around for the man she’d been talking to back in Chicago, but since he’d been one of the first off the plane, he’d already disappeared. Maybe Denver was his destination and he’d headed to the baggage claim area. She gave a mental shrug and followed the signs along the busy concourse to her next gate. As she passed a food court area, she slowed by a bar that seemed to be a popular spot. People sat there laughing and talking. She’d always had a little pang of envy for those people when she traveled for work, people who weren’t alone, people who were having fun. She continued past the bar.

She paused to check the big board with flights on it and confirmed her next flight was still on time and still at the same gate. Not that she was paranoid. She just always liked to know exactly where she was going and what time she had to be there.

And there was her gate. She eyed the waiting area, only a few people there right then. Although she had her tablet computer and the airport had wireless Internet access, and she could entertain herself for the next hour and a half until boarding time, the idea of sitting there didn’t appeal.

“We meet again.”

She turned and found herself face-to-face with the hot guy from O’Hare. She couldn’t help but return his smile. “You’re going to L.A. too?” she asked.

“Yep.” He tipped his head. “Didn’t I mention that?”

“No,” she murmured. “I don’t think you did. Are you on vacation?”

“Yeah.” He paused. “I was thinking about getting a beer. I don’t suppose you’d like to keep me company so I’m not drinking alone? I’ll buy you a drink.”

The idea was definitely tempting. But once again, she didn’t do things like that. Let a stranger buy her a drink in the airport bar—that was bold. “Thanks, but no.”

He eyed her with a bit of a challenging glint in his eye. “For a moment there, you looked like you really wanted to say yes.”

She had wanted to say yes. She glanced back at the bar. “Really, I can’t.”

“Why not? It’s just a drink. In a public place.”

He was right. What the hell. She made a face. “Okay.”

They walked back to the bar and surveyed the busy space. “We can sit at the bar,” he said, nodding at two stools near one end. She headed that way with her carry-on rolling behind her.

“I guess names would be good,” the guy said, shaking his head. “I’m Joe.”

“Nice to meet you, Joe. I’m Mallory.” They shook hands and the warmth and strength of his big hand gave her another tingle low inside. She draped her jacket over the back of the stool and he did the same then helped her climb onto the seat. He picked up a small menu card and studied it.

The bartender appeared in front of them and laid out two small paper coasters. “What can I get you folks?”

“White wine, please,” Mallory said. “Sauvignon Blanc.”

“Even your drink choice is safe,” Joe murmured.

She blinked.

He looked up. “What’s on tap?” The bartender reeled off selections and Joe went for some kind of local ale Mallory didn’t recognize.

“Is that good beer?”

He shrugged, a smile playing on his wide mouth. “No idea. Never had it before.”

Music played somewhere, nearly unrecognizable over the loud babble of voices and laughter in the bar. A big screen television broadcast a hockey game with no sound.

“Hey, it’s the Blackhawks,” Mallory said.

“And they’re winning. You like hockey?”

“Love it.”

He eyed her with renewed interest. “Awesome. Do you go to many games?”

“Yeah. My company has a suite and we often entertain guests there.”

“Now that’s the way to watch a game. Me, I buy the cheap seat tickets.”

The bartender served their drinks and Mallory slid the glass along the polished wood closer to her. She sipped the crisp wine. “Nice.”

“Good.” He held up his glass, the golden liquid inside bubbling, the outside frosty, and they touched glasses in a toast. “Cheers.”

Their eyes met as they sipped again and something inside Mallory gave a little squeeze. This was kind of fun. She hadn’t had fun for quite a while. Or…did she ever really have fun anymore?

Sure she did. Her life was the way she wanted it. Responsible. Hardworking. Respectable. Maybe she didn’t do spontaneous things like this, but she had fun.

“So the weather in Los Angeles is a lot warmer than at home,” Joe said. “A little sunshine and heat will be nice in October. You said you grew up in L.A.?”

“That’s right.”

“You must miss that weather.”

“I do. But I really love Chicago.”

“Yeah. I like living there.” His smile went crooked.

“Are you on vacation alone?” she asked. “Going to visit someone?” Maybe a female someone?

He dropped his gaze and his smile receded. “I’m going to see my dad.”

“Oh. That’s nice.”

“Uhhuh. We’ll see. Hey, look at that, Toews just scored for the Blackhawks.”

They watched the replay together. “Beautiful,” Mallory said, grinning. “Right through the five hole.”

Joe leaned closer and gave her a gentle nudge with his shoulder. “Gotta love a girl who knows hockey. Especially a girl as smokin’ hot as you.”

She made a face at his compliment, although it warmed her inside.

“You must have brothers,” he added.

She laughed. “Actually, I’m an only child. But my dad’s a big hockey fan.”

She watched his gaze drop to her left hand. “You’re not married.”

“No.”

“Boyfriend?”

She shook her head. “Nope.” A pause. “You?”

“Nah, I don’t have a boyfriend either.”

A giggle bubbled up inside her. It almost shocked her. God, her life wasn’t that serious, was it, that laughing out loud was so foreign to her? Once again, they exchanged grins and heat quivered inside her.

“I mean a girlfriend,” she chided him. “Or wife.” Then she added with deliberate hesitancy, “I’m pretty sure you’re not gay.”

He laughed and their eyes met in a charged little exchange. “Pretty sure, huh? Not gay, no girlfriend, no wife. Almost got married once, but it didn’t work out.” He shrugged.

“You don’t seem too broken up about that. Was it a while ago?”

“Last week.” The glint in his eye made her laugh again. “Kidding. It was a few years ago. And I’m over it. Wasn’t meant to be. Worked out for the best. All those clichés.”

“Did she have issues being married to a cop?”

His eyes flickered with a faint shadow. “No. That wasn’t what her issue was.” One corner of his mouth kicked up again. “I think it was just me Zoe had an issue with.”

Well. She didn’t know him at all, really, but from what she’d seen so far, that surprised her. And frankly, she didn’t believe him. But whatever. Two strangers having a drink in an airport bar didn’t have to share all their ugly baggage. Figurative ugly baggage. She smiled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I just have a weird sense of humor.”

“I’ve been told that too. But since you’ve been laughing at my jokes, maybe we have the same weird sense of humor.”

“Maybe we do.”

“Do you like
Family Guy
?”

Her eyes went wide and then she groaned. “Yes,” she whispered. “But don’t tell anyone else. It’s so…wrong. But so funny.”

“Exactly.”

“What other guilty pleasures do you keep secret?” Joe asked.

“Oh no. I’m not revealing my secrets to a total stranger.”

“Hey, sometimes that’s the best person to tell. And what fun are secrets if you’re not tempted to tell them?”

She tipped her head to one side. He had a point there. “Okay,” she said. “I like to read sexy romance novels.”

“You don’t tell people that?”

“The people I work with would not approve of such ‘low brow’ reading material. But I like them.”

They talked about movies and television shows, and funnily enough found they did share some favorites. Mallory had to draw the line at
Hot Tub Time Machine
.

“I’m a sucker for anything with time travel,” Joe admitted. “Maybe that’s why I liked it.”

“
Doctor Who
?”

“Big fan,” he said seriously. “Wouldn’t you rather dematerialize in Chicago and rematerialize in L.A. than do this?” He waved a hand. “Although…on second thought, having a drink with a pretty lady is more fun.”