Make Me Lose Control (9 page)

“I’m experienced.” Leaning near, he lowered his voice. “I know you good girls like your panties torn off on occasion.”

Her eyes flared and her pink cheeks turned red. “You don’t know what I want.”

“I know exactly what you want,” he said in that near whisper. “A family man who’ll make the rounds at the end of the evening, checking the doors to ensure you and the little ones are safe. Then he’ll slip into your bedroom and lock that door, too, so he can make uninterrupted monkey love to you until the clock strikes midnight.”

She moved back, reclaiming her personal space. “You’re wrong.”

“Yeah?” His eyebrows rose. “Which part?”

Her next move startled him. She stepped close, going up on tiptoe to put her mouth near his ear. “For your information,” she said, her breath blowing warm against his cheek, “on occasion I want that monkey loving to go on way past midnight and into the wee hours of the morning.”

Heat shot up his spine. His libido ignited, firing his blood. He cupped her shoulders, ready to yank her even closer so he could take her mouth and then he’d—

“I’ll be right there!” London’s voice floated from the direction of her bedroom.

Jace dropped his hands as if they’d been burned. Shay, her expression somewhere between smug and saved, slapped his list of rules to his chest. “Good luck, big guy,” she said, and left.

He didn’t make a grab for her this time. If he were going to win against one of the females in his life, he had to get his head in the game—and Shay’s presence directed his attention to the wrong effing head.

Seating himself at the table, he took a few deep breaths and put himself into CEO mode. He managed employees all around the world and was known for his effective, hands-on style.
Hell.
Glancing down, he flexed his fingers and tried dispelling the lingering sense of Shay’s skin beneath his palms.

Prepare to run a meeting
, he told himself.
Think of your agenda.
He studied his three-item list.
Time to take the lead.

“Sorry I’m late,” London said, rushing into the room. She had her tutor in tow. “I asked Shay to join us, okay?”

He wouldn’t give either one of them the satisfaction of balking, but he avoided looking in the woman’s direction. “No problem,” he murmured as they pulled out chairs. When they were settled, he lined up his paper in front of him. “Shall we begin?”

“Let me go first,” London said, whipping out her own sheet and placing it onto the table.

“What? I called the meeting—”

“And I have new business,” she said, smiling. For the first time he saw the excellent outcome of those orthodontist bills he’d paid. He was so startled by the effect, he just stared, which gave her an opening to continue.

“I want only a few things,” she said.

“Wait a minute—”

“Don’t I have the floor?” she asked, glancing over at Shay.

The tutor seemed to consider, apparently not in the mood to do Jace any favors. “Well...”

“This is a family meeting,” he said from between his teeth.

Shay’s brows shot up and she sent him a pointed look.
Isn’t that what
I
said?

It was imperative that he wrest back power. “London, you’ll get your chance. But first—”

“I want a car,” she said in a rush. “And a driver’s permit, a boat driver’s license—you can get those at twelve, you know—and a sailboat.”

It took several moments for all that to sink in. “What?”

“A car, a—”

“I heard you.” He rubbed at the pain starting to throb at the base of his skull. It wasn’t a lingering effect of his concussion, he could tell, but instead your average, everyday, teenager-induced headache. “Anything else?” he asked, his tone dry.

“Now that you mention it.” She turned her cheeky grin on Shay. “I have some old business, too. About that shopping trip...”

Control was lost, Jace decided on a silent groan. He crumpled his list of rules between his palms and threw the paper over his left shoulder like it was spilled salt. Maybe that would neutralize the trouble he sensed he was in.

CHAPTER EIGHT

S
HAY
SAT
IN
the passenger seat of Jace’s car, trying not to release any more emotion into the already thick atmosphere inside the SUV. He drove along the road leading to the Walker family cabins, hands at ten and two, determination pumping off of him. In the backseat, London’s usual strict pains to project pure boredom had been replaced with a distinct adolescent sulkiness. The moods of the two Jenningses tussled silently with each other, making the drive anything but relaxing. But years of feeling like a family gate-crasher had made Shay feel obligated to take on the role of smoother of choppy waters.

“Lovely day,” she said, in an effort to perform her usual function.

Jace grunted. London didn’t bother to respond, clearly still peeved about her father’s plan.

Though the girl had hijacked Jace’s meeting the morning before, he’d had a new scheme by evening. As punishment for taking out the boat without permission, he’d announced London was sentenced to some hard labor. And he knew just the place where she’d serve her sentence.

Shay had been astonished when he’d revealed his idea of putting in some hours at her family cabins—and also somewhat impressed that he’d remembered them. “I owe you, remember?” he’d said in an undertone, and her mind had rocketed back to that bittersweet morning in her room at the Deerpoint Inn. She’d been standing at the window when he’d come up behind her to say goodbye and she’d never, ever expected to see him again.

But here he was, for a little while longer smack-dab in her life. She flicked a glance at him now, and experienced that same overwhelming rush of “oh, my” as that night when he’d slipped onto the bar stool beside her. It had been simple, from-inches-away female appreciation, with no expectation of how he would later kiss her, stroke her...and needle her, she remembered with a grimace.

Yesterday he’d used his sex appeal to knock her off balance.

I know you good girls like your panties torn off on occasion.

Still, it was possible she’d knocked him right back, she thought, with a smug little wiggle of her tush on the seat.

Jace’s sidelong look felt like a poke. “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

Getting as good as I got.
“Nothing much,” she said, feeling cheerier. But uneasiness struck back as she spied the turn to the steep driveway leading to the Walker land. “I told you not to expect too much, right?” The last thing she wanted to hear was his assessment that the cabins were a lost cause.

Instead of answering, he glanced in the rearview mirror as the car climbed the hill. “Is that another of your boyfriends following us?”

Shay twisted in her seat, noting the unfamiliar sleek sedan on their tail. The sunlight on the windshield made it impossible to see inside. “I don’t know who it is...and I don’t have a boyfriend.” Jace had been right about Chris’s ex status. They’d dated months ago, though even now she couldn’t articulate why she’d ended things shortly after they’d begun. He was what a mountain girl like herself should want.

Jace’s SUV braked and she was out of the car as the other vehicle came to a halt behind them. Then a long leg emerged from the driver’s side ending in an expensive pair of running shoes and Shay grinned, scampering over to greet the newcomer. He swept her into a hug and bussed her on the cheek. Then he held her away from him and beamed at her a million-dollar, movie-star smile that only widened her grin.

“Don’t waste those megawatts on me,” she said, shaking a finger at him. “I’ve already told Poppy yes, I’ll babysit during your honeymoon.”

He pulled her in for another great-smelling embrace. Shay didn’t even pretend reluctance. When a man like this wanted to hold you in his arms, who would be silly enough to object?

The distinct clearing of a throat broke them apart. Glancing behind her, she saw Jace looming, his expression suspicious.

“I thought you didn’t know this guy,” he said.

“I didn’t recognize the car. New?” she asked Ryan.

He shook his head. “I usually don’t bring it up to the mountains.” His gaze shifted toward the teen getting out of the SUV. “Hey...”

“London,” Shay whispered.

“Interesting,” Ryan murmured, then greeted the girl before reaching toward the other man. “You must be London’s dad.”

Shay performed the introductions. Any ensuing small talk was postponed as Mason emerged from the backseat of Ryan’s car. He threw himself at Shay, who squeezed him hard. Next, he leaped in London’s direction. Jace appeared surprised that the girl bent to give the small boy her attention, but Shay wasn’t.

“What are you doing here?” Shay asked Ryan as her nephew tugged the girl toward the cabins. With a glance back at her, Jace trailed behind the children.

“Mason left his favorite baseball bat last time he visited. We’re here to retrieve it while Poppy does some sort of in-home beauty treatment that she claims will scare me away if I’m there to witness it.”

Without thinking, Shay reached out and clutched his wrist. “Nothing will scare you away from my sister.”

He squarely met her gaze as if sensing her great need for reassurance. “Nothing will scare me away from your sister, Shay. You have my solemn promise.”

She sighed, and told herself there wasn’t a stinging pressure behind her eyes. Poppy deserved such devotion. It was what Shay wanted for herself—a man to belong to. A man who’d stick.

Then Mason and London—carrying the sought-after bat—returned, a bemused Jace still on their heels. The little boy jumped onto Ryan and clambered up his body. “Found it, Duke. Now we can go home to practice.”

He boosted the boy onto his shoulders. “In a sec. I want to know what brings your aunt to the cabins.”

Shay glanced between Jace and his daughter. “London and her dad are here to...look around. They might be able to help out a little—you know, with getting the cabins into shape.”

Ryan’s brows rose. “Poppy said you’d come over to the dark side.”

She shrugged. “I told her I’d like to see the resort return to some kind of life, too.”

“I wish you guys would allow me to invest—”

“God, no!”

He put up both hands. “All right, all right. I get it. Flatlander cash and Walker pride, a combination never to be tolerated.”

Mason tugged on his hair and curled over Ryan’s head to gaze at the man upside down. “Practice, Duke.”

“Practice, son,” Ryan said, swinging the child off his shoulders. “Say your goodbyes.”

A few more moments of chatter and then boy and man were climbing into their car. Shay and Jace stood side by side as the pair prepared to leave. At the last second, Ryan rolled down his window and sent them a serious look.

“Watch yourself,” he cautioned, then drove off.

“I think that was meant for me,” Jace said. “It’s kind of a kick to get that from the famous Ryan Hamilton.”

“Get what?”

He smiled at her. “A warning against the dangerous power of Walker women.”

Ignoring that, she spun around. “Ready for the five-dollar tour?”

London, already familiar with the area, went on an exploration of her own. Shay explained to Jace there were twelve cabins in all, the five ringing the clearing and seven others in more secluded locations tucked into the surrounding woods.

He peered up at the roof of the nearest bungalow and pronounced a need for immediate repairs.

“We know that,” Shay said, “thanks to a late winter storm.”

Then he pulled at one of the cedar shingles that covered the outside wall. It practically crumbled in his hand. “An easy fix. I can tackle problems like this and the roof. We’ll give London a rake and she can start tidying up around the cabins.”

“You don’t have to—”

“This is my idea, remember? It will give me something to do—and get London’s mind off of boys.”

Shay decided not to tell him that there wasn’t any working prescription for that, and instead followed as he made his way into the woods. “I want to see some of the other cabins,” he said.

“Just keep following the path,” she instructed, pointing.

Poppy had already reworn a narrow track that wound through the tall trees. Despite the shade beneath the boughs, the smell of sun-warmed pine permeated the air. Bugs hummed and birds rustled among the needles and leaves, but other than those natural sounds, it was quiet. Beautiful.

The Walker legacy. She’d missed it.

“So...” Jace mused as he continued through the woods. “Duke? What’s with that?”

Shay paused. “What do you mean?”

“Why does the boy call him Duke?”

“Oh.” She ducked beneath a feathery cedar branch in order to catch up with him. “When Poppy and Mason met Ryan last March, the boy tumbled head over heels for Ryan at the same time Ryan was doing the same for both my sister and Mason. Duke is a character from a movie Ryan starred in that Mason loves.”

“Ah.” Jace snapped his fingers.
“Gang of Spies.”
He came to a halt in front of another of the cabins, one that had always been a favorite of Shay’s. The A-frame roof had deep eaves that lent it a fairy-tale air. The trees that nestled around the structure filtered the light and gave it an almost buttery quality.

Jace seemed to be giving the cottage a serious study. “So...they bonded that quickly,” he finally said. “Your nephew and Ryan.”

“What they have is pretty special...” Her voice trailed off as she caught on to the significance of the question. Oh, she thought.
Oh.
Her instinct to soothe moved her closer to him.

Reaching out, she brushed Jace’s back, the muscles stiff beneath her fingertips. “Mason’s not a teenager. He’s five years old. Like a small puppy, really. Very ready and eager to accept new people and new things.”

Jace glanced down at her. “Are you trying to make me feel better?”

His golden eyes could mesmerize her, she thought, as she stared up at them. Heat gathered low in her belly and moved everywhere. “I’m...I’m not trying to make you feel anything.”

That seemed to amuse him. Smiling, he lifted his hand, his touch ghosting over her cheek. “You’re failing at that, you know. Big-time.”

Failing? Or...

Ever fall foolishly into a relationship?

Whatever he read on her face had him moving away. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned back toward the cabin. “How’d your family snag this prime piece of real estate?”

She told him about the Walker ancestors. How they’d traveled up to the mountains with their oxen and their pioneering spirit one hundred and fifty years before. About the ski resort it had been in contemporary times. “But my father—not the shrewdest of businessmen—made a bad financial deal. When a fire swept through and took out everything but this handful of cabins, there was no way to rebuild.”

“Until now.”

“Until Poppy came up with an idea to refurbish what we have left and market it as an upscale, very private and secluded retreat. Fancy sheets, gourmet food, but no phones, no internet.”

“For the busy city folk who want a real mountain escape.”

“Yes. One that’s easy to reach, but very much away from it all.” She glanced around, breathing in the clean air. “Maybe for harried businesspeople such as yourself, who are looking for a solitary, peaceful haven.”

He made a low sound.

Shay turned to see that he was watching her, something...something new, and intense, in his golden eyes. “What?” she said, apprehensive, but determined to hold her ground.

Shaking his head, he approached until he was close enough that she had to tilt her chin to meet his gaze. His breath fluttered the hair at her temple, making her shiver, and that connection between them snapped into place again, the line taut, quivering, just like the muscles in her thighs and across her chest.

Transfixed, as unable to move as if she’d really been tied to him, she continued to stare upward. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

“Because before today, before this moment, I would have said that’s just the kind of downtime I’d like. I’m good at solitary, Shay. That’s what I know. But looking at you right now, with the sun warming your hair and glittering in your eyes...”

Shay felt herself sway toward him. He caught her shoulders and his fingers tightened there, whether to push her away or draw her close, she didn’t know.

“I don’t feel so much like being alone,” he murmured.

Nor did Shay. All her life she’d been on the outside, the observer, a step away from family, from being one of their tight circle. She moved into Jace now, her foot stepping between his so they were flush, body-to-body, the tips of her breasts against his chest, the bulge at his groin touching her belly. Another shiver tripped down her spine. Her kneecap brushed his and that simple touch felt as erotic as his tongue sweeping across her lower lip.

Which it was doing.

She moaned, her nipples tightening into a painful ache that was echoed between her thighs. Who knew that desire could hurt so much, she thought, her eyes closing. Who knew that the need to have more direct contact—nakedness, nudity, his flesh against hers, more, more,
more
—could be harsh instead of honey-sweet.

Her arms rose up to cross behind his neck. She tilted her hips, rocking in tiny increments against the aggressive jut of his sex, trying to ease herself. Every cell of her cried out to have that thick stiffness, all of her wanted it inside her again. To be part of her.

His tongue slid into her mouth. She moaned, sucking on it, and felt his hand sweep down her back, past her hip, to cup her bottom and bring her tighter against him. Her sex throbbed, and she slid her fingers into his thick, short hair, anchoring his mouth to hers.

Then Jace’s head jerked up, breaking her hold. Panting, Shay stared at him, dazed, only to realize he was the first to sense impending danger. Now she could hear it, too, the sound of someone moving through the forest, not trying to be quiet. Still breathing heavily, Shay moved away, the back of her hand wiping her wet mouth.

Jace’s gaze dropped there, flipping her stomach and causing her pulse to stagger like a Saturday night drunk. That’s what he did to her—made her intoxicated with desire. “Stop looking at me like that,” she hissed, fanning her face with both hands. Surely her cheeks were tomato red.