Page 28 of Misadventures With The Mistaken Twin

Jack looked confused. “The lady you saw outside Goldilocks?”

“And again this morning, remember?”

Jack nodded. His jaw was tense and he looked angry.

“Old Mr. Chalmers said he saw her go into Violet's house, then leave a few minutes later.”

Jack's eyebrows went up. “She was there? He saw her?”

“He shot her.”

I couldn't help but smile. Neither could Jack.

“He shot her? Just like me?”

I nodded, and then started laughing.

“I like that old coot. Was she hurt?” he asked, his eyes darting to my mouth.

Shrugging, I said, “I don't know. Old Mr. Chalmers didn't think so.”

“Did anyone call the police?” He was still looking at my mouth.

“Everyone in the neighborhood is used to Old Mr. Chalmers shooting at people. It's old news for them, and for the police.”

One second I was talking about bird shot, the next, Jack's mouth was on mine, his hands at the back of my neck, holding me to him. He angled his head, slipped his tongue inside my mouth. Between the comforter, the layers of clothes and the kiss, I was ready to spontaneously combust. I used one hand to push the layer of down comforter off us, turned my body so I straddled Jack's lap. I tangled my fingers in his silky hair—it was as soft as I'd thought—and held on. When Jack's hands slipped lower, brushed over my shoulders and then lower still to slide over the top of my breasts, I moaned deep in my throat. I felt the contact move like a lightning bolt straight south to my lower regions.

I pulled back from the kiss, put my forehead to his. My breathing was rough, labored. “Jack, you're leaving.”

His thumbs brushed over my nipples through my sweater, shirt and bra. I felt him hard against my lower belly. “Give me a minute and I'll be coming.”

I put my hands on top of his with the intention of moving them off of my breasts. It wasn't a good idea because I only pushed his palms against me harder, brushing him over my nipples in a way that had me almost coming, too.

No! I felt my heart melting—various places on my body as well—and I had to resist. With a moment of clarity, I pulled himfrom me, opened my eyes. “I can't do this. You're leaving in a few hours,” I repeated, my breath ragged. “To Florida. Remember?”

Jack took a deep breath, exhaled. “You climbed on my lap. I was just reacting. Want me to get the bag of sex toys you made for me?”

I slid off Jack's lap onto the couch beside him, threw an arm over my eyes to block him out, to try to block out the feelings brought on by his touch. By him just being there. Then I thought about the ridiculous gag gifts I'd put in his bag and cringed at the idea of putting them to use. Tame or not. “I know I climbed in your lap. And no, don't even look in the gift bag. I made that when I hated you,” I grumbled. My brain was telling me to play it smart, but my body was definitely not in agreement. “Stopping might not be the easiest thing, but it's the right thing to do.”

“Do you always do the right thing?” Jack asked. He looked a little cranky. I didn't blame him. I felt a little cranky, too. An orgasm would solve that problem. But no, my stupid brain had to pull me back from the brink.

I considered his question. “I guess so. If I didn't, we'd be naked right now.”

Jack groaned as he rubbed his hand over his jaw, stubble rasping against his palm.

“Do you?” I asked. My heart rate was finally returning to normal range. “Do the right thing?”

“I used to.” Jack sighed, closed his eyes briefly.

“So what happened?”

He lifted a brow, remained quiet.

“Oh,” I whispered. I had a pretty good idea when he’d lost all direction in his life.

“Do you really want me to say it?” he asked, his voice rough.

I bit my lip and nodded. I didn't, but I needed to know what had gone so wrong that he never came back.