What a Bachelor Needs (Bachelor Auction Book 4) (11 page)

Once upon a
time, Mardie had liked sex. She’d always liked touch. Feather light or hard and urgent, she welcomed it. Craved it, even.

But she’d never craved so hard or fast as she’d just done with Jett. Plastered against him in an attempt to find her breath, all that hardness and heat at her fingertips, Mardie finally realized what touch
could
do to a person if the right person was doing the touching.

At twenty-nine, she’d finally experienced good sex.

Great
sex.

With local sporting hero, personal savior, and all round tease, Jett Casey.

“I’m getting a feel for why women trail after sports stars,” she murmured. “That was—

“Exquisite? Outstanding? Unbelievably stupid?” He smiled and brushed his lips over hers. “Want to do it again?”

He was softening even as he said it. “You talk a big game, Casey.”

“I
have
a big game,” he assured her. “I just need a moment.”

“Want to shower with me instead? Not that I can guarantee that you’ll get wet. And then we can picnic and be all mellow and satisfied—

“Speak for yourself.”

“—momentarily satisfied… and then I am open to suggestion.”

“How about we leave the shower for now and head for your bedroom?”

“Because you’re exhausted and need a nap?”

“Because I really want to do that again. On a soft surface where there’s room to spread out and explore and take things really—” He punctured his words with a kiss. “Really—” Another, kiss, deeper this time and full of promise. “Slow.”

‡

J
ett was up
and emptying Mardie’s red and black kitchen cupboard when Seth arrived the following morning. He’d showered in the shower that barely deserved the name, given that it provided barely a trickle of water beneath which to wash. He’d fix that – just as soon as he and Seth got rid of this cupboard and the wall behind it.

How to get Seth to stop staring at him with blatant curiosity was another issue that needed addressing.

“I did tell you that I wouldn’t make it over last night,” he said, as he poured his brother a coffee and handed it to him.

“You did.” Seth turned his attention to the kitchen décor and winced. “You sure you only want to remove a wall?”

“For now.” It was all Mardie could afford and Jett was trying to respect that, no matter how much he wanted to do more for her.

“If you want this cupboard gone and the wall down now, there’s going to be noise,” Seth said next. “Is the lady of the house at work or asleep?”

“She’s still sleeping. You could always come back at ten.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I do have other things to do besides humor you and your latest conquest.”

“Don’t call her that.”

That drew Seth’s gaze to him again.

“Call her Mardie.” Not conquest. Not the latest in a long line of women who’d passed through his life. Mardie was different.

“Does this mean you’re serious about her?” Seth had his not-so-happy face on. “You only began to get to know her on Monday.”

“So?”

“It’s Thursday,” Seth deadpanned.

So it was.

“Have you ever considered that you might move a little too fast for safety?”

“It hasn’t killed me yet.”

“There are worse things than death. What do you know about this woman?”

“I know where she lives.”

Seth just stared at him.

Too early for bad jokes, then. “I know what she hopes for and what she fears. I know that she demands honesty in relationships, and that she’s not afraid to call me on my bullshit. I feel like I can be myself around her, and that she doesn’t need me to be anything else. I like it. She fits. No one else ever has.”

Seth drank some more coffee and between one mouthful and the next, decided that this was okay by him. “So her name’s Mardie. What’s her last name?”

“Griffin. And her little girl’s called Claire.”

“Do you want both of them?”

“They’re a package deal.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

Seth and his hard questions. “Yes, I want both of them. That’s not an issue.”

“Who’s the father?”

“Boyd Prescott.”

Seth’s face told him what he thought of that.

“If that ever becomes an issue for Boyd, I will deal with it.”

“Feel free to ask for help with that one,” was all Seth said.

Seth was a legend.

*

Twenty minutes later,
they had the cupboard out of the way and had started tearing into the wall with sledgehammers. Plenty of carnage, plenty of noise, along with headphones and safety glasses and sweat. Which was why Jett didn’t initially register the presence of an older man and a little girl watching them.

When he did, he stopped, and off came the safety gear.

“Morning,” said the older man. “Early start.”

“Always,” said Seth, as he too downed tools.

And then Claire let forth with a string of loud mumumums and started wriggling her way out of the older man’s arms, her attention focused wholly on getting to Jett.

The older man handed her over without a word and then Jett had his arms full of baby-scented, smiling little girl. He looked at her with her bright, brown eyes and her two tiny pigtails adorned with little pink bows, and that was just…

That was just…

Adorable.

Beside him, Seth let out a guffaw, and stepped forward, hand outstretched towards the older man. “Seth Casey.”

“Ray Griffin, Mardie’s father. You the handyman Olympian?”

Seth’s grin widened. “That would be my brother here. He babysits as well. He’s a man of many skills.”

He was.

Jett had many skills – ask anyone.

Carrying on a conversation with Mardie’s father, whilst a beaming poppet perched on his forearm wasn’t one of them. “Friendly little thing, isn’t she?”

“Not usually,” Ray offered dryly. “Guess she’s seen you around a bit. That your truck out front. The one covered in snow?”

“He had to abandon it.” Seth came to his rescue as legendary brothers should. “Yesterday’s snow front hit hard.”

Jett nodded. “It did.”

Claire started blowing raspberries at him. Jett figured she
knew
the story he was spinning was bullshit and that he’d spent the night right here with her mother.

Little girls were scary.

And then just when it couldn’t get any worse, he heard footsteps, followed by a sleepy voice coming from somewhere in the hallway.

“Jett Casey, there had better be coffee made and ready to drink in that kitchen, because I distinctly remember you saying something about sleeping in. You promised, when you woke me up with kisses at four a.m. and we—” Mardie rounded the doorway, all sleep soft and disheveled, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand and wearing nothing but a watermelon colored tank top and white panties.

“Dad!”

“Daughter.”

She closed her eyes with a wince, and opened them as if this time the view would be different.

“He’s still there,” Jett offered helpfully.

Mardie whimpered and her gaze cut to Seth.

“That’s Seth. One of my older brothers.” he murmured obligingly.

She smiled weakly, and then her gaze shifted to him, and Claire, and her eyes widened, and suddenly Claire was all about getting into her mother’s arms. Jett handed her over without comment.

“She wanted to see you this morning,” Ray said dryly.

Up close, Jett could see Mardie’s panic and embarrassment. He wanted to unsee her silent apology. So maybe she wasn’t ready for their relationship to become common knowledge. Maybe he too would have liked a little more time to come to terms with last night’s surrender.

Wasn’t going to happen.

He kissed her softly on the cheek – giving comfort and laying claim, and Claire said, ‘Kiss’ so he put his lips to her hair before straightening and turning back towards his silent audience.

“Coffee’s made,” he said.

“I’m thinking shower first. Clothes.” Mardie pointed to the door. “I should. Definitely. Go.”

And then she and Claire were out of there and silence ruled the honesty kitchen.

“Are we going to have a problem with this?” Jett challenged.

“Depends what your intentions are,” replied her father.

“I don’t know yet, it’s only day four. But I won’t hurt her.”

“She’s heard that before.”

“Not from me.”

Impasse.

And then Mardie reappeared, with Claire on hip. “Excuse us,” she said and took him by the hand and dragged him from the room.

Which left Seth and Ray and a room full of loaded silence.

“Want to help me take out a wall?” Seth offered finally.

Mardie’s father crossed to the sledgehammer that Jett had abandoned and picked it up with a tight smile.

It turned out that Mardie’s father wasn’t against expending a little effort in that direction at all.

*

“What are you
doing
?” Mardie waited until they reached the bedroom before speaking again, shutting the door firmly behind them.

“Tearing down the wall?”

“You laid claim to me. In front of my
father
.”

Jett nodded. Claire nodded right along with him. “Yes.”

“Why would you
do
that? You’ll be gone after Friday.”

His temper flared swiftly, chasing away any remnants of humor. “Is that what you think?”

Claire squirmed her way out of Mardie’s arms and onto the mess they’d made of the bed. Mardie swiftly transferred her to the ground before standing back up and looking at Jett with a wry smile and the ghost of a shrug. “I’m a small-town waitress with a one-year-old and a mortgage. You’re a globe-trotting athlete with the world at your feet. I’m certainly not expecting you to stick around.”

“Well, maybe we should talk about that!”

“Maybe we should!”

He stared at her in silence, trying to find the right words, any words, to describe the way he felt. “Ah, screw it,” he muttered and then reached out, pulled her into his arms and poured everything he didn’t have words for into a kiss. Hunger and need, temper and tenderness. Fascination. Infatuation. All of it his. He broke the kiss and breathed her in. “This doesn’t have to be a one-night stand, or a two-night stand, or whatever it is that you’re thinking this is. There’s more if you want it.”

He kissed her again, just in case she needed reminding of their incendiary chemistry. “I’m open to suggestion. Tell me what you want.”

“I don’t
know
what I want.” She looked torn. “I need a shower before conversation. And more clothes. And coffee.” She was all but whimpering. “I’m not a morning person. And I don’t move this fast when it comes to relationships.”

“You moved fast enough last night.”

“That was sex.”

He refused to feel punctured by her words. “Great sex. Amazing sex.”

“Yes! But that doesn’t mean I’m convinced that we need to be in a relationship. Emotional intimacy takes longer. A lot longer if you’re
me
.”

“You want more time to decide? No problem. How much time do you need?”

“I don’t
know
how much time I’m going to need. More than this.”