Return of the Jerk (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 2) (14 page)

He tosses her keys on the couch and strides back over to the kitchen.

Blair shoves everything back into her purse, ignoring the impulse to organize it, figuring she’ll do it later. She puts her purse back onto the chair and watches as Road methodically searches each kitchen drawer.

“You just drove her, so the keys have to be here somewhere,” he mutters.

Blair stands, leaning against the chair. She doesn’t say anything as he continues his search. After prowling through the final cabinet, his eyes flash back to her. They narrow.

“Empty your pockets.”

Blair lets go of the chair. “I’m not emptying my pockets.”

“You have something to hide?”

“No.”

He starts coming toward her and Blair backs away. Road is big and formidable when he wants to be. She scoots to the other side of the couch.

He grins. “The keys are in your pocket. I know they are.”

“No, they aren’t.”

“Don’t believe you. Come over here and show me.”

“I don’t think so.”

Road moves toward her again and Blair circles back around to the kitchen. She laughs. “The keys are not in my pants pockets. I swear!”

He doesn’t appear to be listening anymore, though, and is intent on reaching her instead.

And that’s when Blair decides to run.

She’s not even sure what possesses her to do it. Her only plan is to get to the bathroom at the end of the hall, and she almost makes it, too, but Road is fast. He’s right on her heels and before she can even reach the bathroom door, his muscular arm swoops around her waist.

“Let go!” she squeals with laughter.

“Don’t worry, princess. This won’t hurt a bit.” He struggles with her as she pushes at his arm. “Just give me what’s mine and we’re good.” Road holds Blair tight against him, trying to reach into her jeans pocket.

“I told you, I don’t have . . . them.” She manages to push his hand away and nearly manages to squirm out of the arm that has her captured.

“Hold still,” he says, laughing as he tries to maintain his grip on her and search her pockets at the same time. “Christ, you’re stronger than you look.”

Blair smiles to herself. She’s tempted to use some of the defensive moves she’s learned from her boxing class on him, but those involve foot-stomping and ball-kneeing, and despite everything, she doesn’t actually want to injure Road.

He’s still trying to stick his fingers in her pockets without much success, when abruptly he changes tactics. Instead of holding her from behind, he spins her around. Before she knows it, Blair’s back is pressed against the wall, while her front is pressed against Road as he holds her captive with his large body.

His fingers snake into both her front pockets at the same time now. “Thought you could mess with me, but you’re playing in the big leagues now.”

Blair can’t help her scoff of laughter as his hands continue their exploration. She feels them slide to her rear, checking the pockets in back.

Her eyes fall shut. She’s not sure when she decides to give in and stop fighting him.

His hands are on her ass, his smoky scent surrounds her and for a long moment, she lets herself enjoy it. The solid feel of him pressed against her.

Blair tilts her head to look up at him. The hall is dim, but she can see the exact moment when he realizes all her pockets are empty. The perplexed expression on his handsome face.

“I’ll be damned,” he mutters.

“I told you I don’t have the keys,” she says, breathless. “You should have believed me.”

His eyes cut down to hers. “Why did you run?”

“Because you were chasing me.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “You ran first.”

Blair doesn’t say anything to this. Why did she run? Why didn’t she just show him her pockets were empty?

Maybe it’s because she wanted Road to chase her, to make the effort.

For once.

Her breath catches. When she meets his gaze this time, she’s aware of his hands still on her ass as she grips his muscular forearms. Road shifts position, pulls back, but not all the way. His body still touching hers, his hands slide up her sides so they’re resting on her hips.

Excitement skitters through her.

“Why did you run?” he asks again, but this time his voice is soft, and there’s a note in it she recognizes. A seductive note.

And that’s when it all comes back to her, like a song she once knew. The melody of Road. She remembers being with him, remembers
it
. Not the tormenting dreams, but the actual night they spent together five years ago.

She hasn’t thought of it in years, wouldn’t allow herself to think of it.

The memory washes over her like warm rain. The feel of his skin under her hands and the taste of his mouth on hers. It was indescribable at first, the heady thrill of touching Road. So powerful, the way he filled her senses. She’d wanted him so much it made her reckless and blind.

But she wasn’t blind for long.

He was a surprise to her, but unfortunately, not in a good way. Because as it turned out, Road was not that great in bed.

In truth, he was terrible.

Granted, he’d been drinking whiskey all night, so she had to take that into consideration, but he was still a letdown. It was the only time she’d ever seen him drunk, though his drunken state was the reason they’d done it at all. Blair knew sleeping with her wasn’t a choice he would have made if he were sober.

This was back when she was still roommates with Tori. Road showed up late one night, hammered. Drinking straight from a bottle of Jack Daniels.

“Princess,” he said, standing on the front porch, grinning like a pirate.

“Road?” Blair was surprised to see him. “Is everything okay?”

“Guess you haven’t heard.”

“Heard what?”

He snorted. “Nothing. My sister around?”

“No, it’s just me here.”

He turned to go, but Blair stopped him. “Do you want to come inside for a little while?” He was obviously drunk, and she decided it was safer than sending him away.

He studied her for a few seconds then shrugged.

Blair figured he was probably looking for a place to crash-land anyway.

“Tell you one thing, they deserve each other,” Road muttered as he made his way into the living room and flopped down on Tori’s couch. “What do I care, right?”

“Who?”

“Gwen and Logan. Caught ’em in my bed together. Can you believe it? Screwing each other in my own damn bed!”

Logan was one of Road’s best friends, and Gwen was Road’s live-in girlfriend. Blair listened in silence as he ranted on about the two of them, too stunned to even speak. How could any woman be so dumb as to cheat on Road? It boggled her mind.

“Christ, why do I keep ending up with all these bitches?” Road muttered, then took a swig from his bottle. “Need to change, need to find something better.” His eyes flashed over to where she was sitting on the end of the couch. “Someone more like you. A good girl.”

Blair studied his handsome face, his long, muscular body splayed out before her. Even drunk Road was incredibly hot.

He took another sip of whiskey, licked his lips, then put his head back and closed his eyes.

That’s when her heart began to hammer, her breath unsteady because she knew what she was going to do. Saw opportunity where previously there was none. Saw how a path once dark and closed to her had lit up and was flashing a neon ‘open’ sign. Blair knew this was her chance to finally be with Road. Her one and only chance.

And she was going to take it.

NATHAN GRIPS THE
steering wheel and listens with annoyance as the Honda’s engine struggles with sixty-five on the interstate.
This car sounds like shit.
He decides he’s taking it into Brody’s and giving it a tune-up and oil change himself.
Hell, if things continue on the way they are, who knows how long I’ll be driving this damn car.

He glances over at Blair. She hasn’t said much since the incident in the hall, and he can guess why. Wonders where she really hid Isadora’s keys, if they were even in her condo at all. She could have put them anywhere. She’s smart, smart enough that he never should have underestimated her.

Going to have to start bringing my A game to this situation.

Blair fiddles with the radio, and a whiff of perfume from her hair drifts his way. It smells clean and elegant, just like Blair herself. He likes it. Too much.

Nathan lets his breath out and thinks back to what happened upstairs. The feel of her soft curves pressed against him. Another thing he liked too much. He wonders how this is going to work with him staying there, if his willpower can possibly hold out.

He knows he should feel guilty invading Blair’s space, and he does, but he also knows she’s keeping something of his. That car is important to him, means something, and he’s not leaving without it.

“Just pick one,” he says in irritation as she keeps flipping from station to station on the radio. “Any station will do.”

She shoots him a haughty look then continues changing stations. “I’ll stop when I find something I enjoy, and not before then.”

He chuckles to himself, amazed at how much she’s changed from the shy Blair he used to know. Even back then, he’d suspected there was more to her than meets the eye. It was one of the reasons he’d offered to marry her.

Should have known it would end in disaster.

They’d only had the one night together, though that’s all it took. In truth, he was so drunk he barely remembers it. He rarely drank like that, but it had been tough finding out two people he trusted were sticking a knife in his back.

He thinks about Blair in the hallway upstairs again, their bodies touching just right, until he’d finally come to his senses and pulled away. And then he thinks back to the night they had together years ago. Good girl Blair. He remembers wondering if she’d be shy in bed, but she wasn’t at all. She took what she wanted from him, and seeing that side of her had made him think later how a marriage between them might work.

Not that they ever had a chance to find out.

A messy business.
That’s what it was, and he was sorry it went down the way it did.
Never wanted that.
He was ready to make a go of it, but it went bad right from the start, with Blair bleeding almost immediately after they took their vows at the courthouse. They spent their wedding night in the ER and their three-day honeymoon in the hospital before being sent home on bedrest.

He moved into the second bedroom of the house they’d just rented, while her family moved in to help care for Blair. He’d go to work at the garage early every morning and come home late every night feeling like a stranger, like he didn’t belong.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

And then there was the way they all looked at him—her whole tidy, upper-crust family, but especially her mom—like he was nothing but a piece of trash. Some lowlife scumbag. The scumbag who’d gotten their perfect good girl daughter pregnant. Didn’t matter that he’d agreed to marry her. And what sucked was he knew they were right. He never should have slept with Blair. It was selfish and he wasn’t thinking clearly, but deep down, he hoped some of it would rub off on him, too.

Some of that good girl magic.

They stuck it out for as long they could, but things never improved. Blair kept bleeding. Finally, she lost the baby. His child.

That
was the worst part.

Nathan takes a deep breath and exhales.

It was a long time ago, and you can’t hold onto those things. You have to let them go or they’ll chew you up. He knows that better than anyone.

He didn’t leave her right away and stuck it out for another month, but the writing was already on the wall. Scribbled there in ugly black marker. Blair barely said two words to him in a day, and her family glared at him with open hostility whenever he was around, so finally he stopped being around. Bought a plane ticket to a place that was as far away as he could go. India. And he’d always figured everyone was happier that way.