“With my sister, it is.” Trace’s expression hardened. “And even you know that you’re distracted.”
True enough, not that it mattered. “I’d die for her, if it came to that.”
“And then she’d be left unprotected.” Trace put a finger to Jackson’s chest. “So no dying.”
Jackson laughed at that somber, direct order. “Right. Got it. Wouldn’t be my first choice anyway.” He clapped Trace on the shoulder. “Anything goes down, I’ll be in touch.”
“You armed?”
“Yeah.” He had a Glock in a back-belt holster, a knife in his boot, and the skill and imagination to make a weapon out of about a dozen things in her kitchen.
“Enough?”
“It’s covered, okay?”
Dare stuck his head back in. “We’re good?”
“Yeah.” Trace looked at Jackson again. He lowered his voice even more. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…sleep near her, okay? Don’t let her force you out to the couch. I can’t put a finger on it, but something about this doesn’t feel right to me.”
“Right outside her door, if that’s what it has to be.” In their line of work, gut instincts were never ignored. But where he slept was up to Alani—and Trace knew it. “I’ll be able to hear her breathing. You have my word.”
Trace studied him a second, then nodded. “All right then.”
As Trace strode away, Dare approached.
Jackson put his fists on his hips. “God, what now?”
“It wouldn’t hurt you to let her pamper you a little.”
He grunted. “Yeah, like you would?”
“If it kept her busy enough that she wasn’t afraid, and close at hand, yeah. Damn right, I would.”
Huh. He hadn’t considered that.
“Besides,” Dare said. “You might find you like it. Sometimes, a woman’s touch is just what you need.”
“Now that’s something I already knew.” Jackson grinned at Dare’s reaction. Yeah, he saw Alani as a little sister, too.
For her part, Alani remained near the door, now more frazzled than ever.
Impatient, smoldering, Jackson stood back as the guys took their time telling her goodbye. They each embraced her, and they each gave him last-minute instructions.
All things he knew, all things he would see to.
But he understood their need to voice their thoughts. They were, by nature, take-charge men, and even when giving the responsibility to someone they trusted, it wasn’t easy to let go. He got it.
When they were both gone, Alani closed and locked the door.
Jackson braced himself for the rush of feelings now that they were finally alone.
When she continued to stand there at the door, her back to him, Jackson smiled in predatory determination.
Oh, she claimed she couldn’t jump back into bed with him—but she wanted to. The sexual chemistry arced between them like a live wire.
But he wanted her to know she could trust him. She said she wanted more time, so that’s what he’d give her—no matter how difficult it might be. For both of them.
CHAPTER SIX
SILKILY, JACKSON SAID, “Alani.”
For only a moment she bowed her head and then, resolute, she turned to face him. Her hands were behind her on the doorknob, her gaze watchful, her pose purposely relaxed.
So many reactions flitted over her face, Jackson had a hard time deciphering them. But he understood what he felt, first and foremost.
The need to put her at ease, to take away the nervousness.
His breathing deepened. He held out a hand. “C’mere, honey.”
She took one halting step and stopped again. She rubbed her palms against her thighs. “Why?”
Why did she think? “You expecting me to jump your bones?” He quirked a smile. “You think I’m going to go all hot and heavy on you?”
“Yes, sort of.”
So honest. “Hate to disappoint you, but I won’t, I promise. At least not yet.” He continued to hold out his hand. “You said you wanted time, so I’m giving you time. For now I just want to talk.”
“Talk?” Her tongue slipped out over her lips. “About what?”
Man, he couldn’t wait to feel that small soft tongue on his body. “You said this morning that I’d ignored everything you had to say, right?”
“You remember that?”
He remembered every second of seeing her naked, seeing her anger, her upset.
How he’d unintentionally wounded her tender feelings.
“I remember. You said you had a lot of arguments about why we shouldn’t have gotten between the sheets. I was drugged then, but now I’m not, so this will be your chance to tell me—and my chance to convince you otherwise.”
“I…” Hesitantly, one timid step at a time, she closed the space between them.
Jackson enfolded her hand in his.
Her fingers were cold, giving away her fear. Primal instincts rose up, the need to console, comfort, the driving urge to defend and shelter. “I’m going to take very good care of you.” In bed, and out.
Her lips parted. Her fingers curled against his. “What we talked about doesn’t matter now.” In a rush, she started into the kitchen, towing him along with her. “We did already sleep together.”
Once in the kitchen, Jackson pulled her around to him. Trying for casualness he didn’t feel, he looped his arms around her. “But you want me to start over, so that’s what I’m going to do.” With her telling him what happened, how could he miss? She’d be his guide. “I know you want me, darlin’. I know you enjoyed yourself.”