Calamity Jena (Invertary Book 4) (13 page)

A little voice whispered in Jena’s ear that she wasn’t in the habit of cuddling up to her half-naked friends while they were in bed. She dismissed it.

“Frank?” he prompted, bringing her back to the present.

“We didn’t really date. He’d turn up at the clubs where I danced to keep me company. Next thing I knew, I was living with him. I don’t ever remember there being a date.”

“Ha! So that’s the key to an injury-free relationship with Jena Morgan—don’t date her.”

“Funny. Oh so funny. I’m cracking up here.” She yawned loudly, ruining any impact her sarcasm might have had.

They lay in silence for a while, Matt gently stroking her shoulder as the shadows from the trees danced around the walls. Jena felt her eyelids droop.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this here,” she whispered.

“Like what?”

“Hard.”

She rubbed her cheek against his firm muscle. He tugged her closer. His hand gently stroked her arm.

“It’s hard everywhere, princess.”

“I just wanted a home.” She closed her eyes tight. The confession robbing her last defence. “All I wanted was to belong. Somewhere.”

“And you do, you crazy girl. You belong right where you are.” He nuzzled her hair with his chin. “Go to sleep. It’ll all be better tomorrow.”

Slowly, Jena felt her eyelids grow heavy as his heat seeped into her.

Sleep pulled her under, cocooned in Matt’s protective embrace.

14

Grunt sat in a booth in the pub on Saturday morning listening to Frank whine. It was the last place he wanted to be. The first being wherever Claire was. He poked at his food with a fork. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t what he wanted. The only options on the menu were a fried breakfast or porridge. What he really wanted was a pile of warm beignets straight from New Orleans. He wanted them dusted in a liberal amount of powdered sugar and served with chicory coffee that was strong enough to melt a spoon. Yeah, that would be great. The only thing that could make it any better would be to eat it with Claire.

Instead, he was eating black pudding with Frank. Could the day get any worse?

“I called in reinforcements. You two ain’t doing the job I’m paying you to do. We need help.” Frank sneered at them, and Grunt realised the day could indeed get worse.

He could almost hear Joe’s teeth clench. “Reinforcements?”

“Yeah.” Frank sat back in his seat. He was only drinking black coffee. Frank worried he’d get a gut if he ate decent food.

“Want to tell us what’s going on, Frank?” Joe’s tone was flat and deadly. Most men would run when they heard it. Not Frank. He was too stupid.

“I called the mother.” Frank tugged at his cuffs. His smile was nasty. Grunt pushed his food away before it turned in his stomach. “Jena’s mom was real interested to know her daughter is hanging out in the same town as Josh McInnes. She’ll be here on the first flight she can get. She’s a big fan. Convinced that McInnes will hear her songs and give her the break she’s been chasing her whole life.” He looked smug. “I promised her I’d get her some face time with Josh if she came and talked to Jena. I made it clear if she doesn’t get Jena on a flight to the States, there’ll be no Josh time.”

Grunt eyed his fork. He wondered how it would look sticking out of Frank’s throat.

Joe was not impressed. “I thought you wanted to talk to Jena, not make her go back with you. That’s what you said when you hired us. We’re here to show your woman what a big, important guy you are. Let her know what she’s missing. Why the push to get her stateside?”

Frank leaned forward, arms on the table. “I don’t need to tell you shit. You’re hired meat. Performing monkeys. You don’t need to know nothing.” He pointed at Joe. “Your job is to do what you’re told.” He pushed out of the booth and sneered at them. “Waste of money. Amateurs. Be ready in fifteen. We’re gonna try talking to Jena again.”

With that he swept out of the room, like the president at a state dinner.

“I hate that guy,” Grunt said.

Joe patted him on the back. “That’s what I like about you, buddy. Straight to the point. No messing around.” He looked at the door Frank had disappeared through. “He’s an asshole.”

No truer word was spoken. “Why you think he’s got such a hard-on for this Jena chick?”

Joe shrugged, but it was tight. Forced. “Dunno. But I’m getting a bad feeling about it. I thought this would be an easy gig. Give the guy an ego boost. See Scotland. Now I’m getting a rash from taking his money.”

No kidding. Grunt felt the need to shower every time he was around Frank.

“What do we do?” he said. “See this thing through or bail?”

Joe’s lips tightened. “Got a bad feeling. Let’s see how this plays for now.”

“Watch the girl,” Grunt said with a nod.

“Yeah, watch the girl. I think the moron may be planning more than we guessed. Definitely more than he told us. Wouldn’t want to see Jena hurt.”

No, Grunt thought grimly. There was no way they’d let that happen.

“What’s with you and all these first dates, anyway?”

It was Saturday afternoon. Matt was busy prying nails from the old floorboards in her kitchen. Yet another job he’d taken on without consulting her. She’d also found paint samples on the table. She was beginning to suspect Matt had taken over her renovation.

She’d been a bit disorientated when she’d woken in her living room instead of her bedroom. She’d been alone in the bed, which was more of a relief than anything else. Part of her had been anxious about dealing with Matt, but he’d behaved as he normally did—lecturing her about her breakfast choices while providing coffee that was actually drinkable. There was no awkwardness and there was no mention of the night before. Jena knew she should be pleased that it wasn’t a big deal, but part of her was seriously disappointed. She laughed at herself. What was she expecting? For him to be so turned on by her close proximity that he fell at her feet? No. She was glad things were back to normal. Over the moon about it, in fact.

“Jena, are you listening to me? What’s with all the dates? Are you desperate for a man?”

“Yeah. That’s exactly it,” she drawled. “I’m desperate. I can’t live without a man in my life. I’m incomplete. Woe is me.”

Jena continued to fill the black garbage sack with the last of the discarded wallpaper. Who knew there was so much paper on the kitchen walls? The room wasn’t big, yet the garage was full of bags waiting for rubbish pickup day.

“I’m being serious here.”

“How about you tone down the male chauvinist attitude and I might answer your questions?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, making her squirm. It was amazingly easy to forget he was a cop.

“What’s the deal with the dates?” he asked again.

With a heavy sigh, she turned towards him. He looked sexy in his butter-soft blue jeans and old grey shirt. Her mouth watered at the sight. He had a body to die for. After a night spent cuddled up next to him, she knew exactly how good that body could feel. She shook her head to clear it.

“I know how much courage it takes to ask someone out and I don’t want to throw it back in their faces. I give everyone a chance at a first date. Then at least I can tell them honestly if we don’t click. Without the date, a rejection is just plain mean. I don’t like hurting people’s feelings.”

Matt started laughing. “Jena, honey, you might not hurt their feelings, but the dates you arrange turn out to be deadly. Trust me, Bob would have gotten over a rejection a helluva lot faster than he’ll get over first-degree burns.”

Brilliant. He was laughing at her again. She was completely over the fact everyone in Invertary got so much entertainment from her life. She ignored him and turned her attention to the black trash sack she was filling with debris from the floor.

“I would have thought, after meeting Frank, you’d be off guys for a while anyway.” Of course he wouldn’t let the subject drop.

With an irritated sigh, Jena stomped to the old stained sink and washed her hands. “Not that it’s any of your business, but he wasn’t always like this. He was charming at one point. And, unlike most guys, he knew his way around a woman’s body. That’s a pretty appealing trait in a boyfriend.” She gave him a wry look. “Trust me. Most men have no idea how to please a woman. They wouldn’t recognise an erogenous zone if it bit them in the ass.” She felt her face burn. “Not that I have a lot of experience, but girlfriends talk.”

Matt dusted his hands off on his jean-clad thighs. He grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and threw one at her. His gaze was thoughtful while he watched her drink. “You don’t need to know where a woman’s erogenous zones are to get the job done.”

Jena pointed the bottle at him. “See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Get the job done for whose benefit exactly? For the guy? Because without a little bit of knowledge and effort on the guy’s part, he’s the only one who’s going to get anything out of sex.”

“No.” Matt’s eyes darkened. “I mean, if a guy is doing the job right,
every
area on a woman’s body is an erogenous zone. You obviously haven’t been with any men who know what they’re doing.”

It took Jena a second to decide how to react. She settled on laughing. “Wow, that’s original. Never heard that before.” She deepened her voice. “Trust me, baby, I know what I’m doing. I’ll give you pleasure like you’ve never known. You’ll forget all the men who came before me.”

His eyes sparkled. “That’s not what I said. I said the whole body is an erogenous zone—if you know what you’re doing.”

She smirked at him. “Which implies you know what you’re doing.”

“Aye. I do.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious.”

“Of course you are. You’re also deluded. I haven’t met a man yet who didn’t think he knew what he was doing in bed.”

“I’m different. I can make you hot without going near any of your more obvious erogenous zones. I am
that
skilled.” His lips twitched as he fought a smile.

“Okay, Mr Sexpert. Why don’t you prove it?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Jena knew they were a huge mistake.

A slow smile curved his lips. His eyes sparkled with mischief and intent. “Come over here and I will.”

“Uh-nuh.” She shook her head hard enough to make her feel dizzy. “I didn’t mean it. I’m fine right here.”

“Coward.”

Her eyes snapped to his. He was laughing at her. “I am not. I don’t need a demo. If you believe you’re God’s gift to the opposite sex, who am I to burst your bubble.”

“I promise not to touch any X-rated zones. It wouldn’t prove my point anyway. Any idiot can get a woman hot by going for the obvious.”

She expected his eyes to drift to some of those X-rated areas, but they didn’t. He held her gaze and waited. Six foot two inches of pure lazy confidence. She didn’t know whether to hit him or strip him.

“Come on,” he teased. “Don’t be a chicken. I’m trying to make a point here. Otherwise you’ll think I’m all talk. I wouldn’t want you to slander my reputation during one of your girly get-togethers.”

She chewed her lip as she wavered. The words came out of her mouth before she had time to think on them properly. “No groping or grabbing. If I wouldn’t walk around with it on show at church then you can’t touch it.” This is was huge mistake. Huge.

“Come on over here, Jena.” His voice was pure seduction.

With a forced sigh to cover her nerves, Jena moved to stand in front of him. “Now what?”

“I want you to face the wall. Put your hands on it.”

“Are you going to frisk me?”

“Everyone’s a comedian,” he muttered.

Once she was in position, Jena’s bravado began to waver. “I’m ready.” Although the words came out of her mouth, she wasn’t sure they were true.

She stared at the wall for a few moments, waiting for Matt to get on with whatever he planned to do. Her anxiety level shot up fast. She was two seconds away from making a run for it when he spoke.

“I like this top you’ve got on.”

She’d worn an old pink halter that tied behind her neck. It dipped low on her back but flared loosely around her hips and over the top of her cut-off jeans. The top was one she often wore to work around the house; hence it was paint-splattered and stained in spots. Not exactly the sexiest of outfits.

“Anyone ever told you that you have a sexy back?”

Jena licked her dry lips. “Nope, no one. Are you hoping that being corny will turn me on?”

She heard a chuckle and a thud. She looked over her shoulder to find him kneeling behind her, his focus on her back. His blue eyes had bled to black. A tiny, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“I wasn’t being corny. I was being honest. Eyes front, Jena. I want you to concentrate on what you feel.”

She made the effort to roll her eyes. “Whatever,” she told him, but turned back to stare at the wall. Her heart was racing. She was an idiot to let him do this. Especially since the memory of being held in his arms the night before was so fresh in her mind. Yet here she was, going ahead with it anyway.