Game On (Entwined Hearts) (4 page)

“Agreed.” Hunter held out his hand. “For three months, we’ll be the best of friends and nothing else. After that, we can both make our cases to her and see if she’s interested in seeing either of us again.”

“If this goes your way—” Jake paused. He cleared his throat. “You hurt her, and you’ll have to answer to me. And I don’t make idle threats. You can ask Angela.”

“I’m sure. Same goes for me.” Hunter kept his hand out. “But this works only if we trust each other.”

Jake grabbed the outstretched hand. “May the best man win.”

Hunter increased the pressure of his grip, causing Jake to grit his teeth with the sudden and intense pain. “I think he will.”

Three months.

It was amazing how much her entire life had changed in three short months.

Angela looked up at the white wooden sign with gold lettering announcing her name, her business, and her status in Glen Barrow. It hung above a small office in one of the few strip malls in town, the cheapest she’d been able to find.

Pinching pennies was the name of the game. She’d had to pay six months’ rent in advance—easily met with the money she’d gotten from selling the engagement ring. The rest had gone to finish off her previous life and rebuild one here.

It seemed like only a week ago that she’d rolled into town with nothing more than a broken heart and a desire for her mom’s comfort food.

Now she had a successful law practice in her hometown and a healed heart.

She’d had her moments of insecurity, wondering if she’d made the right choice by leaving the firm.

Time had proved her right.

A month after her impromptu departure from Philadelphia, she received an e-mail from Kelly bemoaning having caught Eric with another woman—in this case, a temp from the office pool.

Angela didn’t write back. She wasn’t sure why Kelly had contacted her, whether it was for sympathy or to set her straight on Eric, but it didn’t matter.

Eric was so far in her rearview mirror as to be a speck in the wind.

Now, as she studied the sign, it was time to keep moving onward and upward.

She fumbled with the keys and opened the door to a blast of heated air. To save money, the air conditioner stayed off when she wasn’t in her office. Even though she was making a profit, she couldn’t afford to keep the AC going all the time.

“Profit” might be a bit of a stretch. The majority of her cases were drunk-driving arrests and a handful of assaults, usually from the drunk drivers when they were cut off at Annie’s or the other bars in town. She continued to live at home, taking advantage of her mother’s generosity and excellent food.

Some things hadn’t changed from Angela’s old life in Philadelphia. She still worked hard for her clients to get the best results she could, talking to the prosecutor and other lawyers to resolve cases before they even got to court. She spent long hours in her office and swore when she couldn’t get what she wanted or if a situation went sideways and she lost the case.

But some things were very different.

Every few days, she saw Jake Weatherly.

Or Hunter Stratham.

Or both.

A one-two punch to her heart on a daily basis.

She’d gotten used to the flutter in her belly when Jake strolled into the courthouse, his dark blue uniform pants giving her an eyeful. The matching shirt settled on his broad shoulders with the official patches centered perfectly on each arm, his bare forearms flexing with a strength she knew all too well.

Every once in a while he’d catch her eye and smile at her, sending her pulse into overload.

Often she would have to deal with him on the stand, testifying about an arrest.

He was the perfect police officer. Polite, honest, and efficient.

She countered with her own professionalism, cool and smooth as she asked the questions and dealt with the answers. To anyone who didn’t know them, it was nothing out of the ordinary.

And so it was, to Angela.

Until he stepped off the stand and all she could think about was how hot he was in bed, what lay under the uniform, straining to break free.

And then there was Hunter.

Some of the underage-drinking charges she’d been hired to deal with were for freshman students, drawing Hunter into court as an unofficial representative for the college and for the sports department.

He’d sit right in the front row in his white dress shirt, dark tie, and khakis, the Windbreaker draped over his lap as he watched and listened to the legal proceedings.

Officially, he was there to offer moral support and character testimony for his errant students, but she knew he was also there for her.

Judging from the glances Jake sent across the courtroom when both men were present, he knew Hunter was there for her as well.

Judge Tisker wasn’t blind to the ongoing soap opera in his courtroom. At first he’d glared at Jake and scowled at Hunter as if daring either of them to make a wrong move under his watchful eye.

They’d both behaved, giving no reason to throw them out. Over the past few weeks, the judge began smiling at them, taking pleasure in the weird game.

Her suitors hadn’t gone unnoticed by others.

Jimmy Hammer, the elderly prosecutor, grinned each time he called Jake to the stand. The court reporter nodded when Angela entered the room and glanced over at the two men as if to alert her to their presence.

It wasn’t needed.

She felt the electricity every time she entered the room.

The raw sensuality from Jake, the memory of spontaneous lovemaking sessions in the forest on nature walks.

Pressed up against a tree with her sleeve in her mouth to stifle the moans as he thrust into her with wanton abandon, the rough bark leaving marks on her back that took days to disappear.

The slow simmer from Hunter, the gentle looks reminding her of long sensual afternoons starting with a romantic movie while cuddling on the sofa and ending in a marathon session in his bed.

But all she had at present were those memories.

Lunch with Hunter at the food truck parked by the courthouse, delighting in the fish tacos. Snacking with Jake in the hallway between cases on chocolate-covered peanuts, her favorite. But no attempts at intimacy, nothing more than a buss on the cheek and a hug. It was as if the two encounters she’d had in her mother’s house had never happened, had been nothing but an erotic daydream brought on by the pressure of the breakup.

But she knew it was real, that they were real. And she wondered why neither man had followed up, attempted to rekindle what he’d had with her.

Angela was more than a little confused.

What’s wrong with me?

They’re letting you get over Eric,
her inner voice answered.
They’re giving you your space. It’s a good thing and shows they both still care for you.

That she understood.

But as the days turned to weeks and then the weeks turned to months, the question shifted.

What’s wrong with
them
?

So now, almost three months to the day she’d arrived in Glen Barrow, Angela sat in her office, trying to figure out what the hell was going on with Jake Weatherly and Hunter Stratham.

She went over her encounters with each man, dissecting and analyzing what was said and what wasn’t said. Was she missing a sign or was she imagining something that wasn’t there? . . .

Enough.

Angela looked at her desk and the assorted folders, weighing the various cases and tasks she had laid out for the day.

There’s nothing here that can’t wait for a few minutes.

Or hours.

She stood up and headed for the door.

Time for someone to do some explaining.

Or to be more accurate—two someones.

The police station was her first stop, being closer to her office than the college campus. The small stone building was a historical landmark dating back to the first years of Glen Barrow’s existence. A pair of police cars sat in the parking lot along with Jake’s distinctive red pickup truck.

She wasn’t relying on guesswork alone to intercept Jake. She knew his schedule after three months, and according to her mental charts, he’d be preparing to go on duty.

No better time to catch him off guard.

She parked and headed for the front door, focused on the task at hand.

Grace, the elderly dispatcher, rose from her desk as Angela entered.

“Angela. What can I do—?” She frowned when the lawyer didn’t slow her pace, walking as fast as she could without running.

Grace’s expression grew more shocked as Angela walked behind the counter and headed for the locker room door, clearly marked as such in gold lettering.

“You can’t—!” Her shriek was cut off as Angela strode through the door and shut it behind her, closing them off from the rest of the station.

Jake was there.

Jake was all there.

He looked up from where he stood by his locker, clad only in a pair of tight black underwear hanging dangerously low on his hips.

There was no one else in the locker room.

Her eyes widened as she stared at him, unable to pull her attention away from the warrior standing in front of her.

He’d been in good shape while they were dating, keeping himself fit with daily attendance at the gym to meet law-enforcement standards, but this—

She tried to catch her breath and failed.

Jake’s well-defined abs called out for her to touch them, to run her fingers over the taut skin like a roadster taking on speed bumps.

His bare chest shone beneath the overhead fluorescents, a light sheen of sweat covering his skin.

The overall picture reminded her of some of the charity calendars she’d purchased over the years to support various causes, all of which had contributed to some hot and sweaty erotic dreams.

All he needed was to be holding his nightstick and handcuffs to make the fantasy complete.

She faltered for a second, forgetting why she was there. All she wanted to do was look at him, revive and rework her memories of his body.

“What the—?” He stared at her, making no attempt to cover himself. “What are you doing here?”

The question snapped her out of her reverie, forcing her back on point.

“I came to see you.” Angela reached behind her and flicked the lock on the door in case Grace decided to be brave and attempt to save her chief.

He smiled and turned to face her full-on, unabashed in his near nudity. “So I’m here. What can I do for you?” He jerked a thumb at his locker and the uniform hanging there. “I’m on duty in twenty minutes, so it’ll have to be quick.”

Angela raised one eyebrow at his phrasing.

Jake laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You know what I mean.” The uneasiness in his words increased her need to interrogate him, push for answers.

“I want to know why you haven’t made a pass at me in the past three months.” She advanced on him, forcing her pulse to settle. “I see you almost every day in the courtroom, but you haven’t said or done anything other than be on the sidelines, smiling and being as polite as can be. You’ve been as cold as a fish.” She touched her lips. “You kissed me once, that time on the porch and, since then, nothing.”

“Not that cold,” he protested. “I’ve been behaving myself.”

“Because—?” Angela prompted.

He didn’t reply, and she saw the tension in his shoulders, the struggle inside.

You want me.

You want me right here, on the floor of your locker room. Or maybe in the shower, holding me up against the tiles while you plunge into me again and again like you have so many times before, making me scream and moan while you growl and howl.

Until we collapse in a hot, sweaty mess on the floor with cold water drizzling over our naked bodies because neither of us has the strength left to reach up and turn the faucet.

She allowed herself a smile, seeing the sweat bead on his brow.

I know you want me.

What’s keeping you at bay?

“Tell me.” She put her hands on her hips and dragged her focus southward. “Or I’ll have to beat it out of you.”

Jake laughed. “Like to see you try.” He glanced at his equipment belt, hanging on the edge of the locker. “Got me a real set of cuffs now. No more cheap toys from the kinky online store. These won’t break when we get too physical.”

The roughness in his voice told her he was close to breaking, confessing his sins to her.

She pushed on. “I like that idea. But not if you’re keeping secrets from me. So fill in the rest of this sentence. You’ve kept your distance from me because—”

Silence.

“Because—” she prompted again.

Jake shook his head.

“You tell me or I’m going to call my mother and sic her on you. Imagine her ripping through this station, talking to Grace, and the pair of them trying to find out what’s going on.” She glanced back at the locked door. “You really want me to set her loose? I’m pretty sure it qualifies under ‘act of God’ for insurance purposes.”

Jake let out an annoyed snort. “Okay.” He drew a deep breath. “Hunter and I made a deal. We agreed to give you enough space to get your act together before asking you out on a date.”

Angela repeated it. “A deal.”

Jake nodded.

“A deal.” She frowned as the fact sank in. “So you
both
decided to back off and approach me as nothing more than a good friend.”

“Yeah.”

“For my mental health.” She pointed at herself.

“Yeah.” He swallowed hard. “We figured it was worth waiting for you to feel okay about yourself again rather than to risk hurting you by making a move too soon and forcing you to choose one of us.”

“And you both agreed on this.” She heard a rushing in her ears as she fought to stay calm.

“Both. Hunter and I.” He tapped his chest. “If you’re going to be mad at me, save a little for him.”

“Oh. I’ve got lots to spare.” She narrowed her eyes. “Let’s state the obvious: I’m not a toy for you boys to fight over.”

“Never said you were,” he retorted. “I’ve never thought of you like that, and you know Hunter hasn’t either.” Jake let out a pained sigh. “Look, we both care for you and want the best for you. We figured it’d be a fair way to deal with the situation.”

“And—” She waved her hand in the air, tempted to pull it into a fist. “you never considered asking my opinion about all this?”

“You were in no place to have that sort of talk when you first arrived. Hell, you were a hot mess when I saw you.”

“You kissed me,” she protested.

“Yes. And you’ve no idea how hard it was for me to step away.” He protested in turn. “Three months ago, if one of us had made a move on you and enticed you into bed, you would have panicked a day later and reversed it. Maybe even freaked out and left town, an emotional wreck with no safe place to go.” Jake paused, his lips curled into a wistful smile. “Go ahead. Tell me we overreacted. Tell me we didn’t do the right thing by you. This way you got time to recover and heal. In your own time and space, without either of us pressuring you to do something you’d regret later.”