Game, Set, Match (A Humorous Contemporary Romance) (Love Match) (37 page)

“I think it’s time I got back to work, Jess.”

Jessica shook her head and dislodged several strands of green streaks onto her rosy cheeks. “O. M. G. Stop the blogs! Honey, you’re not—you didn’t fall for this guy again… Did you?”

Izzy shook her head and busied herself with the now disarrayed proofs
on the table. “No, of course not. It was nice, fun. But that’s the end of it.”

Jessica’s eyes narrowed. “You’re doing that eye aversion thing you always do when you try and lie.
Oh, Iz, honey, no.”

“Relax, okay, I’m not falling for him. It’s a fun fling thing. He’s that guy, you know. Easy to get caught up with, but I’m fine. I’ll keep my wits about me.”

Jessica gnawed on her bottom lip. “Babes, when I suggested you ride that pony, I thought you needed to get over that thing you’ve carried around for him all this time. I never thought you’d—”

Izzy grasped Jessica’s hand across the table. “And I haven’t. He beds a new woman every other night, and they all fall all over him. I’m not one of those girls. I’m grown. I wanted him, I had him. No biggie.”

Jessica shrugged but her eyes remained narrowed. “If you’re sure. Guys like Jason Cartwright, they’re good to look at, but no good for relationships. Not a few weeks ago, he was photographed with Sabrina.”

Izzy told herself she didn’t feel like her heart had been tied to an iron anchor and dropped into the center of the ocean. She told herself she was in no way falling for Jason again. When her phone buzzed insistently on the table, sounding like an angry swarm of bees, she told herself it wasn’t disappointment to see the name Simon flash on the LCD.

Chapter Thirty

Don’t stare. Don’t stare. Don’t stare.

No matter how many times Izzy told her eyes to stay on their task and keep all of her fingers intact as she sliced onions, they insisted, needed, pleaded to follow Jason around her brightly lit kitchen.

She drank in every move he made. Bronzed hands contrasted sand-colored countertops as they sifted through proofs. Muscled forearms bunched and released with every movement.

“Is the plan to concentrate on what you’re doing or stare at me all afternoon?” He flashed
her a grin that better women would have swooned at. Each casual glance, each oh-so-sexy smile, sent heated shivers zinging over her flesh.

Was this what it felt like to be infatuated?
 It had been so long she’d forgotten. One drawn out week since they’d “gone to Malibu”, since she’d lost her heart again. They hadn’t seen each other until today, and all she could do was think about doing something inappropriate on top of the countertops.

A slam of the front door slapped her back to the present. “Nick, is that you?”

The sizzle and pop of the heated oil on the stove told her it was time to add the onions. She looked over Jason’s hand-written instructions on foolproof Pad-Thai. They seemed simple enough. As she added the onions, their pungent scent filled the air. She felt very chef like. No need to mention to Jason that she’d chopped the onions too small. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

No response sounded from the family room, but a shuffle from the doorway brought her around. A bloody-lipped Nick bore a sullen expression as he graced the doorway. He caught sight of Jason, and the scowl on his face deepened to a cartoonish snarl.

Izzy ignored the itch in her feet to run to him and cuddle him and planted her feet. “What happened to your lip?” She held up a hand. “And don’t tell me you fell.”

Nick didn’t spare her a glance. He continued to glare at Jason, malice in his eyes. Her motherly alarm bells rang clear and loud, like a church organ in her head.
 
Trouble
.

Jason didn’t seem at all perturbed by Nick’s angry glare. He leaned back on the stool.
Every bit the non-threatening male. “Didn’t you hear your mom?”

Nick swung his head in her direction, but cast looks of disdain over in Jason’s direction. “I fell… onto some guy’s fist.”

She knew it wasn’t the cool thing to do, but Izzy let her mother’s instinct take over, and she reached for him. He shook her off and turned his attention back on Jason.

“What happened?” Impatiently, Izzy tried to check his lip but he shrugged her off again. “Nick, just let me—”

Jason stood and moved over to the far counter, probably in an attempt to give Nick some room. “Did that happen at practice?” Jason’s voice was low and calm.

“Yeah, genius.
What do you think? ‘Cause I’m her kid, I run with gang bangers or something?”

Dread curled its icy fist around Izzy’s windpipe and made it impossible to breathe. “Nicholas Reems, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I have not raised you to be rude and disrespectful. Apologize.”

Eyes wide, he stared at her, looking more like a wounded six-year-old than the man he pretended to be. “Can’t you see, Mom? He’s using you. It’s just like the guys said. You’re his flavor of the week.” Before she could respond, he tore out of the back room into the yard.

Izzy staggered back from the force of shock hitting her in the chest. He’d never spoken like that to her before. Nauseous with anger and confusion, she eased herself onto a stool.

Jason placed an arm on her shoulder. His hand abated some of the chill that had seeped into her bones.

“I’ll talk to him.” Then indicating the stove, he added, “You might want to check on the stove.”

Shit
. Afraid to peer into the pan, she choked back the acrid smell of burnt onions.

****

Jason ambled over to the pool, careful to approach with caution. “You want to tell me what’s really going on?”

Stubbornly, Nick shook his head.
“Nope.”

Jason shrugged.
“Fair enough. But, I happen to know your mom’s had a hell of a couple of months and doesn’t deserve you taking verbal jabs at her.” He paused. “Me? Maybe. But not her.”

Nick considered, and puffed in a few shorts breaths before speaking. “Some reporter guy showed up at lunch asking a bunch of questions about you, and these guys at school cornered me after practice and said some stuff about how I think I’m all Hollywood and stuff.”

Jason let the anger roll through him and then seep out. Nick needed to talk about it. He didn’t need Jason to go on a rip about the reporters. He’d deal with the paparazzi issue later. He nodded. “Yeah, then what?”

“They talked shit about Mom.”

Jason did his best to stay cool. He was sure Izzy would want him to throw in a bit about how violence didn’t solve problems. “What did they say about your mother?”

“How I wasn’t special just
‘cause you’d taken my mom out once. And that she was just your flavor of the week skank. And some other stuff…” The words trailed off, and he snuffled, unable to continue.

“Other stuff?”

Nick clenched his jaw as blood infused his face. “One of them dropped the N-bomb and some other stuff, so I took a pop at him.”

Jason could only guess at the other stuff. No wonder Nick had gotten in a scuffle. Bullying kids could be a pain in the ass. Ignorant, bullying kids could be dangerous. It was worse when they had muscle to back it up. Nick wasn’t a small kid. “What does the other guy look like?”

Nick cracked a smile. “Worse.”

Jason nodded his satisfaction. “Good, I hope you made ’
em pay. But for future reference, violence doesn’t solve anything.”

“I’ll make sure to tell her you told me that.” Head hanging, he added, “I’m sorry about in there. I was rude.”

Jason shrugged. “You had good cause to be a little miffed. Paparazzi showing up at school. It can be a lot to handle. I’m sorry you’re in this position. That is my fault.”

Seemingly off topic, Nick asked, “So, are you like dating my mom now?”

“I’m trying to, if she’ll have me.”

“Maybe it’s not a good idea if she’s a flavor of the week.”

Jason got the message loud and clear. Nick was Izzy’s protector, and he didn’t want Izzy hurt. “She’s not. I care about her. I’m trying to convince her to let me stick around a while.”

“Okay.”

Jason smiled to himself. As if it were that easy. Say okay, and all was right with the world. “Not so fast. You still owe your mom an apology.”

A crimson sea washed over Nick’s face as he winced. “I swore in front of her, and I was rude. That’s going to be no phone for a month, at least.”

“How about we start with dinner and a sincere apology. I hear it can take you far.”

Chapter
Thirty-One

Izzy needed a distraction. Screw a distraction, she needed sex. Because of Nick’s mood the night before, Jason hadn’t spent the night, and she was still humming with the tension. Every look, caress, stolen kiss, reminded her of her trip to Malibu. And all she’d been able to think about was another trip 
to Malibu
, but their schedules weren’t compatible, so she’d have to wait.

She scooted out of her office and went in the hunt of chocolate. If she couldn’t have sex, Dove chocolate would make a fine substitute. “Hey Jessica do we—” She pulled up abruptly when she saw Jessica shove something in her desk.

Eyes wide, Jessica rolled her chair in front of the desk drawer as if to hide something. “What’s up Izzy? What do you need?” She paused for a second then added rapidly, “I’ve got your appt book for the day. A couple of sittings, but nothing maj—”

Something wasn’t right. Izzy scrutinized Jessica’s ramrod-straight posture and tightly clenched hands. “What gives? What are you hiding?”

Jessica turned a shade of pink. “Uhm, so….” Her voice trailed off, and she looked away.”

“Spill it, Jess. I haven’t got all day. What’s the matter with you?”

Jessica reached into the desk and pulled out what looked like a magazine from the desk drawer. “Iz, you have to promise me you’re not gonna tweak about this?”

Izzy’s brow furrowed.
“Tweak?”

“Yeah, you know. Trip, bug out, push button panic, and shit a cold purple Twinkie?”

“Shit a wh—? Never mind. I know what to tweak means. Now show me what you’re hiding.”

Jessica pulled the glossy, weekly gossip rag from the desk. “I’m sure it’s not what it looks like. You know how these people like to deal funk.”

“Deal fu—”

“Hose, bag, make shit up…” Jessica’s definitions trailed off.

“Give me the magazine.”

Her hands trembled, but Jessica handed over the
 
Us Weekly
. Initially, Izzy didn’t see any cause for alarm. But when her eyes trailed the bottom left corner of the cover, her heart seized, threatened to lock up and never beat again.

“The image is all fuzzy, and probably photo-shopped to hell. It’s probably not even him.”

Izzy continued to stare at the image and the title above it. “Tennis’ bad boy on the rebound from Cienna.” The small print around the image added, “He never wastes any time.”

Nausea overtook her stomach and churned her breakfast yogurt around and around in circles. How did these things happen? Needing to sit down, she stumbled to one of the reception chairs and eased
herself into it. This could not happen to her
. Could. Not. Happen.
 She told herself over and over.

Concerned, Jessica brought her a Dixie-cup of water. “I’m sorry, honey. I tried to warn you. Guys like
Jason, you enjoy once and move on. They’re not relationship types.”

Izzy drew her head up. “What are you talking about?”

Jessica’s dark brows drew in. “Ain’t we talking about the same thing, honey? Your wannabe man. Two-timing like a Mo’ Fo’?”

Izzy was confused. “Huh?”

Jessica’s eyes rolled. “Mother Fu—”

“I know what Mo’
Fo’ means Jess. I’m confused about him two-timing.”

Jessica’s mouth thinned, and her eyes widened. “I didn’t know you were so down with the open relationship thing—”

Izzy lost the tenuous tether on her emotions. “For fuck’s sake, Jess. He’s not two-timing. That’s 
me
 in the photo.”

Jessica did a perfect impression of a frog’s bugged eyes. “You’re shitting me.”

Izzy shook her head. “I shit you not.”

Jessica grabbed the magazine and thumbed through to the feature page for a bigger image. Izzy wanted to curl up and vanish. Things like this were not supposed to happen to her.

Sure enough, there was a bigger image. Clear as crystal, she could make out Jason’s face. Thankfully, God heard her prayers, and her face was obscured. However, her head was thrown back in obvious ecstasy. Her skirt bunched up around her upper thighs. There was no question what they were doing.

Jessica’s voice broke through her haze of despair. “I don’t get it. When did this happen? I thought you didn’t do
the do until last week?”

“We didn’t. This is from when Nick and I stayed in Malibu. If you look closely enough, you should recognize the skirt. It’s yours.”

Jessica narrowed her eyes and scanned the image again. A grin spread across her face. “Hey, what do you know? My skirt is famous.”