AllTangledUp (5 page)

He glanced up and met her gaze in the mirror. “What? You
didn’t think I’d leave you unsatisfied, did you?”

Chapter Four

“You don’t have cable or satellite up here, do you?”

Jesse opened one eye to give her an incredulous look. She couldn’t
be serious. After the last round of sex, his brain wasn’t functioning well
enough to remember his own name, let alone worry about cable. “Did you see a TV
anywhere? My old man came out here to get away from the world. Fishing,
tinkering on his car, sitting on the porch with a cold beer. If he wanted
television he went to the bar a few miles down the shore.”

She glanced at the old clock on the bedside table, swinging
her legs over the side of the bed to stand. “Then we’re headed to the bar.”

“You have a show you just can’t miss? You couldn’t set it to
record on your DVR or something?” He ran a hand down his face. She
really
had to be kidding. He sat up and tried to catch her arm to haul her back into
bed, but she danced out of his reach, laughing.

“I did set it to record, but no, I have to see this live.”
She dug through her bag until she came up with some clothes. He watched her
wiggle and bounce getting on her underwear, shirt and jean skirt. She arched
her eyebrows at him. “You don’t have to come along if you don’t want to, Kasen.
Just give me directions and I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“The hell you say.” He rolled out of bed and stuffed himself
into some clean clothes, glowering at her. “You’re not ditching me to go hang
out in a bar. I get the
whole
weekend with you.”

“Of course, sugar.” She chortled. “Don’t get your boxers in
a wad. I was just getting you to hurry up. It’s already noon. We need to go.”

He opened his mouth, closed it again. There was nothing he
could say that wasn’t going to come out a four-letter word, so he just shook
his head, stuck his wallet in his back pocket and led the way down the hall.
The woman was amazing. He’d never met anyone who turned him on or pissed him
off quite so fast. When it came to her, he reacted.

He wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. It probably depended
on which end of the turned-on-pissed-off spectrum he was at.

“Hey, where are we going?” she called when he turned for the
back door. “The cars are the other way.”

“I said the bar was a few miles down the
shore
.” He
grinned over his shoulder at her, opening the door to point toward the boat
tethered at the end of the dock. “This is the fastest way to make sure you
don’t miss your soap opera.”

“It’s Saturday, smartass. Soaps are on during the week.” She
followed him out of the cabin and onto the porch.

“How would you know that?” he taunted as he locked up behind
them. It was impossible to resist goading her. If he had to react whenever she
was around, he liked to prove that she had the same problem.

She stuck her tongue out at him. “My grandma used to watch
them.”

“Sure she did.” He draped an arm around her shoulders,
pulling her down the path that led to the dock. The wood planks echoed with
their footsteps as they approached the boat. It was a classic wooden sport
cruiser his dad had fixed up when Jesse was still in elementary school.

Lola ran a hand over the polished nose of the boat. “This is
gorgeous.”

“Thanks. Another of Dad’s babies.” Jesse picked her up and
swung her onto the deck, holding her just a little too long with her breasts
pressed to his chest. A tiny smile curved one corner of her mouth, and she
brushed her lips across his. He liked that. Even such a simple contact was
nice, without automatically leading to sex. Another reaction he wasn’t sure was
a good thing.

Releasing her, he untied the boat and hopped in. A few
minutes later, they were skimming along the lake. Lola grinned, her neck
craning as she tried to take everything in. “You must love it out here. It’s
amazing!”

He’d been here so many times, he almost took it for granted
now, but he glanced around and tried to see it from her perspective. It was a
beautiful day and there were quite a few people soaking up the sun and enjoying
the water. Trees lined the shore and the Sierra Nevada Mountains rose in the
distance. It really was amazing—one of his favorite places in the world. He
loved it as much for the memories as for the scenery, but he didn’t say that
out loud.

“We’re almost there.” He took one hand off the wheel to
point toward the long pier that jutted out into the lake. A mishmash of
different watercraft was tethered to the old wood pilings, and he motored them
closer until he found an open slip. He shut down the engine and helped Lola
out, lashing the boat to a metal tie-off.

She slid her hand into his as if it were the most natural
thing in the world, and it felt like it was, which should have freaked him the
hell out, but didn’t. He shoved the thought aside and walked with her toward
the bar. She glanced up at him, eyebrows arched, when they got to the door.
“The Spittoon Saloon?”

He shrugged. “Hey, it was named by local miners during the
silver rush. They’ve added TVs and other modern amenities, but it’s mostly the
same as it was back then.”

“Those amenities include real bathrooms, right?” Her eyes
widened in exaggerated horror.

Laughing, he held the door open for her. Damn, but he liked
this woman. “Yes, princess. There’s indoor plumbing.”

She wasn’t quite sure she believed him as they stepped
inside. She’d been to her share of seedy dive bars, but the word
spittoon
in the name wasn’t reassuring. A relieved breath eased out of her when she saw
it just looked like an ancient cabin with a bar at one end, a few tables
scattered around the interior and a few out-of-place-looking big-screen
televisions. The old mirror over the bar was probably original, and her
reflection was wavy as she approached the bartender.

She dug out her wallet, slapped a fifty on the bar, flashing
her most charming smile. “I’d like a beer and a channel change, please.”

The geezer looked like he was an original fixture too. He
grunted. “What kind of beer and what channel?”

“Guinness for me and my friend, here,” she replied. The she
nodded toward one of the smaller TVs mounted above the bar. “And if you could just
move that NASCAR race over to the big screen, I’d appreciate it.”

His eyebrows arched but he didn’t say anything. He grabbed a
remote and flipped the channel, then set Jesse and her up with drafts of
Guinness.

“Thanks, hon. Keep the change.” She winked at the old guy,
who gave her a gap-toothed grin as he scooped up the cash.

“Any time, pretty lady.”

Jesse held out a chair for her, amusement flashing in his
green gaze. “Does every man alive flirt with you?”

“Yep. And I usually flirt back, unless I’m working.” She
dropped her purse on the table and settled in her seat, crossing her legs. The
bar was full, but not packed, and she was fairly sure every man there was now
staring at the length of her legs that weren’t covered by her short skirt.
Including Jesse. Ah, well. Let them look. They would anyway, and she’d long
since learned to make the best of it. “Do you have a problem with that, Kasen?”

“Nope.” He sank into the chair next to hers, draping an arm
across the back of her seat. “As long as you’re coming home with me, I don’t
really care.”

There was nothing in his expression to indicate he was
lying. Another pleasant surprise. Most men she knew took issue with her
flirtation, assuming it automatically meant she wanted to have sex with
whomever she flirted with. “I don’t sleep around, you know. This weekend is a
fluke.”

He took a swig of his beer, licking the foam from his lips
before he met her gaze. “I occasionally sleep around, though I’ve never brought
a woman to the cabin before. So it’s a fluke time for everyone.”

But he hadn’t said he believed her about her sexual history.
That hurt more than it should, and she focused on the NASCAR race on the TV.
She’d missed the beginning, but at least she’d be able to see who won. She kept
her eyes peeled for the black car emblazoned with the red Hanley’s toothpaste
logo. When it swept across the screen, getting bumped hard by the car following
it, she jolted in her seat.

“So, are you going to explain why we just
had
to
watch a race? Do you have money riding on it or something?” Jesse’s tone
indicated his disbelief, though whether it was because she might be a gambler
or because she’d dragged him out of bed, she couldn’t tell.

“Money is the least of my worries on race days.” She downed
some of her beer. “I’m just hoping my baby sister doesn’t get smeared into a
wall.”

“Sister?” It took him a moment to process that. “Wait, Lola
Adams
.
Casey Adams is your sister? Buddy Adams is your uncle?”

“Imagine that.” She grinned into her drink. Her sister was
one of the few women who’d ever been a NASCAR driver, and she was pretty, which
the media loved. That she was related to a racing legend like Uncle Buddy was
just the cherry on top.

Jesse frowned. “Why weren’t Dean and I told about your
history when the network put you on the show?”

She snorted. “I don’t trade on my family name, that’s why. I
look like my mother, so you can’t tell from looking that I’m Buddy’s niece, and
I went into producing to make a name for
myself
. Only a select few of
the network execs know I’m from the racing Adamses, and yeah, that probably
played a part in them supporting me with
Revved Up
, but there were a lot
more people than just the ones who knew that made the final decision. I got the
show because I’m good at what I do.”

“I…” Jesse trailed off, staring at her as if he’d never seen
her before. Maybe he hadn’t. All he saw when he looked at her was someone to
screw. It shouldn’t disappoint her that he was the same as every other man
alive, but it did. Just sex. That was all this was. Chemistry and hormones.
Just because he was a nice guy didn’t mean he’d fallen out of her own-or-bone
categories.

“Close your mouth, Kasen.” She focused on the screen and
watched her sister jockey her way up to tenth place. It was too soon to get
excited, but that would be a damn good finish for a new driver. The silence got
a little too long, with Jesse still looking at her strangely, so she started
talking. “Casey had a shitty run in Talladega last week, so I’m hoping this is
a better race.”

He cleared his throat. “She’s been doing pretty well this
year, hasn’t she?”

“Damn well, especially for a rookie.” She couldn’t keep the
pride out of her voice. She worried about her sister because there were always
dangers out on the track, but Casey was good at what she did. “Uncle Buddy is
thrilled, not that he’d ever tell her. He leaves the supportiveness to me.”

Jesse shifted in his seat and his arm slid against her back.
Awareness skittered over her skin, and that was before his fingers stroked down
her shoulder. “What about your parents?”

Hesitating for a moment, she gave him the shortest answer
possible. Just sex. No need to get personal. She ignored that she’d had no
problem diving into his personal life last night. “They passed when I was
fifteen and Casey was twelve. We lived with Buddy after that.”

His arm tightened around her, as if he wanted to comfort
her. The idea was so foreign, she didn’t even know how to respond. Men wanted
things from her, they didn’t want to
give
her anything. And she didn’t
lean on anyone, ever. She stood on her own two feet, physically and
emotionally. It was safer that way. She’d learned not to depend on people
sticking around a long time ago. She felt his gaze searching her face. “So you
were a track brat.”

“I graduated and went to college three years later, so not
me. Casey, though, yeah. She took to it like she’d been born to be on the
track.”

“You guys are close?” His fingers drew circles on her
shoulder, and tingles flowed in the wake of his touch.

She wanted to hate how quickly his touch could get to her,
but she couldn’t quite make herself. “Yeah, we are. I took care of her until I
left for university.”

“Where does she live?”

Taking a deep swig of booze, she attempted to distract
herself from the way her body warmed when he put his hands on her. “Her racing
team is based at the Atlanta Motor Speedway, which is where Buddy taught us
everything we know about cars, trucks and anything on wheels.”

He was silent for a long time, and they both watched the
many laps of the race count down. His fingers still slid over her skin absently
and she had to squeeze her thighs together to quench the ache that built
between them. He didn’t even seem to realize what he was doing to her, which
made it all the more frustrating. “So you really do know your shit when it
comes to cars.”

The comment caught her off guard. His thoughts definitely
hadn’t followed the same sensual lines that hers had, which annoyed her a
little more than it should.

“Don’t worry,” she drawled, exaggerating her Southern
accent. “You’re not the first guy to assume I’m all boobs and no brains.”

He choked on a sip of his beer, snorting it up his nose.
“Jesus, Lola.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.” She folded her arm, giving him a look
that dared him to contradict her. “Tell me you didn’t think for even a second
that I slept my way into this producer gig.”

Setting down his glass, he wiped his face with a napkin.
“Okay, yeah. Maybe I did think something like that. But tell me you
don’t
use your boobs as much as your brains to make men do what you want. Tell me
you’re not accustomed to your looks getting you anything you ask for.”

“I didn’t ask to be born pretty, or to grow big breasts when
I hit puberty.” At first, she’d been horrified by how much attention her body
got from guys. But she’d had to deal with it as best she could. She jutted her
chin pugnaciously. “If I have to put up with men drooling all over me, I should
get something out of it.”