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  He grinned. “Tell me what to do.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Where’s your list?”

  “What makes you think I have a list?”

  “You have an entire binder for your wedding. You're the queen of lists. Cough it up.” He grabbed his t-shirt from the back of the chair and pulled it on. I worked to not watch.

  I grabbed my notebook and stared unseeing at my scrawl. I suppressed a deep shiver when he came around and leaned over me.

  “Clean back rooms,” he read.

  “That says bathrooms.”

  He leaned closer, so close I could feel the heat off his body. “You get an F in handwriting.”

  “I’m left-handed.”

  “Why do left-handed people always use that excuse for messy writing?”

  “It’s not an excuse. It’s a fact.”

  “Is that why your car is so messy? Because you’re left-handed?”

  I started to laugh. “Life is too short to be a neat freak.”

  “You do realize that the average messy person wastes more time looking for stuff than a neat freak spends tidying up.”

  “You can’t just make stuff up and act like it’s a fact.”

  He grinned. “It’s a scientific study. Look it up.”

  “I don’t have time. I'm too busy looking for things.”

  We stood there smiling at each other.

  “Okay, I'll do the bathrooms.”

  I snorted. “Please.”

  His gaze held mine. I noticed flicks of gold in his green eyes. “You think a sailor doesn’t know how to clean?”

  “I'm sure you can clean. But I can’t ask you to clean the bathrooms.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Jackson vacuumed, dusted, set up chairs and cleaned the bathrooms to a state I’d never seen them before. I cooked a tremendous amount of appetizers. He stepped out to get ice while I changed. I worked to create ambiance with lights, candles, and music while he showered.

  I almost choked on my wine, when he came downstairs after his shower. A black, short-sleeved buttoned shirt showed off his arms, and his jeans hugged his butt. I struggled not to stare. His sex appeal rocked off the charts. I envisioned my worldly, ultra-hip New York girlfriend’s reactions as they laid their eyes on him.

  “What’s left?” He interrupted my thoughts.

  “I think we’re pretty much done.”

  He looked around. “Looks good.”

  “Thanks for your help. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  His eyes tracked to my mouth. “All this effort to get me laid.”

  “Yeah.” I inwardly winced.

  My heart fluttered when a smile slowly spread across his face.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You just get this look on your face when we talk about my sex life.”

  “Your sex life is none of my business.”

  “How old are you?”

  “24. How old are you?”

  “29.” His eyes traced my face. “So what made you want to abstain from all things in the bedroom?”

  My mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”

  He nodded. Completely serious. “Yeah.”

  My breath stuck in my ribs. “It took a few years to recover from losing my parents. My grandma was pretty liberal, but she was old-fashioned when it came to boys.”

  “What about when you went to college?”

  I lifted my hands. “It isn’t like guys were beating down my bedroom door. I had crushes on guys.”

  “What kind of guys?” his eyes narrowed.

  “I seemed to gravitate towards big, athletic guys. At parties, I was the shy redhead, who stared at them from across the room. And I was incapable of talking to a single one of them. I would watch them go home with my friends.”

  “You’re killing me.”

  “They never saw me. Not when there was someone like Julie in the room.”

  “She’s average.”

  If he thought someone like Julie was average, I couldn’t imagine the caliber of women he dated. “She’s a catch.”

  He crossed his thick arms. “So, if the hunky quarterback had found the balls to put the moves on you, would he have been able to have you?”

  My mind raced, uncertain of my answer. “I don’t know.”

  “Matt doesn’t protest your vow of celibacy?”

  I rubbed my forehead. Matt rarely attempted to touch me. Since we had become engaged, I had hoped we would fool around a bit more, but he seemed uninterested in taking things further. “He seems okay with it.”

  Jackson tilted his head and paused. “He’s either an idiot or he’s a better guy than me.”

  My head jerked up. “What? Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t think I would be okay with it.”

  My heart bounced in my chest. “What about all your navy trained self-discipline?”

  “SEALs have discipline, but they thrive on challenges. If you and I were engaged, I wouldn’t pay attention to any of this waiting-for-marriage bullshit.”

  My eyes widened in shock. The thought of being engaged to Jackson did weird things to my stomach. Something forbidden hung between us. Decadent, sinful images flashed wildly before my eyes. I imagined him crawling up the bed, laughing with that smile, teasing me, kissing my neck. My entire body reacted to his statement.

  “You can’t say that.”

  “I just did.”

  He watched my face with interest.

  “All of my friends are going to go bananas over you, but to be honest, you scare me.”

  The intensity of his stare whipped shivers up my spine. “You’re the one who scares me.”

  I struggled to bring air into my lungs. Why did I scare him? How was that even possible? “I thought you didn’t feel fear.”

  “I feel it. I just manage it.”

  Our eyes stayed locked.

  “Hello?” A voice intruded from the door.

  I tore myself away from his gaze. Julie walked in, carrying two bottles of wine.

  “Hi,” I scrambled towards her, part grateful and part resentful for the interruption.

  We hugged.

  She peeked around me. “Hi, Jackson.”

  He raised his hand and waved.

  She looked back at me, and a smile stuck on her face. She whispered through her smile. “I thought I told you that I wanted it to be a quiet evening?”

  I had texted Julie a couple of days ago, telling her that we had upgraded the dinner to a party.

  I cleared my throat. “I thought it would be a good chance for Jackson to meet people.”

  “I wanted him to myself,” she hissed. “You have everything. Why couldn’t you help me out on this one thing?”

  I glanced back at Jackson who watched our whispery exchange from the kitchen. “More alcohol and more chances to flirt than a boring old dinner.”

  She pushed her arm into mine. “Good point. I forgive you.”

  She spoke in a normal voice. “Where’s Matt?”

  We walked to the island, and I checked my watch. “He should be home soon.”

  She shifted her attention to Jackson. “Hi, Jackson. How are you?”

  “Good, how are you?”

  His friendly smile stunned Julie into an uncustomary silence. Her arm squeezed mine tight in response. Geez, he needed to keep that thing on a leash. Yup. I sensed a feeding frenzy in our near future.

  “So what brings you to New York, Jackson?” Julie vibrated with energy.

  I uncorked the wine and poured Julie a glass.

  “I'm stateside for a few months.”

  “Stateside? Are you in the military?”

  “The Navy.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Like a real sailor?”

  “Navy SEAL.”

  Her hands danced to her chest. “Oh, my God.”

  I looked down at her wine and decided to take a big sip before passing it to her.

  “Julie has a thing for guys in u
niforms.” I paused, thoughtful. “And guns.”

  “Emily doesn’t lie.” Julie batted her eyelashes like she had something in both eyes. I inwardly sighed. Julie’s behavior was reminiscent of our University days. But this time, I would not be at the party alone. This time I was engaged.

  I stepped away and dialed Matt’s number.

  A female voice purred. “Hello?”

  I looked at the face of my phone. I confirmed that I had dialed Matt’s number. “Is Matt there?”

  “Sure. One moment.”

  The phone fumbled and then Matt’s voice was on the line. His voice sounded too whispery. “Hey.”

  I swallowed an awful feeling down my throat and let it sink into my stomach. “Who was that?”

  “That was Katherine. We’re all working overtime on this brief, and there must be ten cell phones on the boardroom table. I think she just thought my cell was hers.”

  “There are other people there?”

  A short laugh punched out of him. “Of course. Honestly, we’re up to our eyeballs here.”

  I placed my hand on my forehead. “Do you know what day it is?”

  “It’s either Saturday or Sunday. I'm hoping it’s Saturday because if it’s Sunday, we’re fucked.”

  “Matt,” I whispered, looking up. Jackson watched me from across the room. Julie was talking at him, a mile a minute. “The party for Jackson? Remember?”

  “Oh crap,” he said. “Emily.”

  “We have over 50 people arriving here in less than half an hour. You have to come home.”

  “I'll make it up to you.”

  “Matt.” I heard the pleading tone in my voice.

  “Emily. You know I’d be there if I could, but it’s just not going to happen. Not this weekend.”

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Well Jackson is there, isn’t he?”

  I focused on the ceiling in despair. Why could Matt never make me his priority? He promised me repeatedly that he would come home, but lately, he was a ghost. He pushed me to spend time with Jackson. My emotions confused me. “He’s here. But he isn’t my fiancé whom I want to spend time with.”

  “Have fun for me, okay?”

  I remained silent on the phone, my hand pressed against my throat. I suppressed the anger that threatened to bubble out of me. Why could Matt never stick to his word? How would I survive this party on my own? I hated parties. For the hundredth time, I questioned my sanity in planning this event.

  Matt sounded short. “Emily, you can’t be like this. I have to go.”

  “Fine.”

  “Love you.”

  I sighed and clicked off the phone without replying.

  Chapter 13

  Two hours later, I stood in my version of hell. Music blasted, people talked and laughed. I was just a girl, standing alone, at her party. I sipped my wine. I sighed and looked down at my ring. I thought one benefit of getting engaged and married was so that you had the plus one who gave a fuck about you at parties. My throat tightened as I remembered the throaty female voice that answered his phone. I forced myself to not think about that.

  Four women surrounded Jackson. Julie trailed one hand up Jackson’s arm and then laughed as she squeezed his bicep. I gulped more wine. My University days flashed in front of my eyes. Friends tripped over themselves to capture Jackson’s attention. I predicted that Julie would win. I already envisioned Jackson tugging Julie’s hand as he discretely led her upstairs to his room.

  Julie waved at me. “Em, come over here.”

  With great reluctance, I fixed a smile on my lips and walked over.

  Julie studied me. “Wow, your lips look fantastic.”

  I swallowed and avoided looking in Jackson’s direction. “Thanks.”

  “My lips would look that good if I also could afford $40 lipstick,” she looked around the group. “But not all of us got so lucky in life.”

  “Five dollar lipstick from Walgreens.” I kept my voice light.

  “So we were just bugging Jackson about his workouts.” Julie changed the subject.

  “Oh.”

  “He won’t tell us about the crazy things he does. He says that he just works out like everyone else.”

  I stared at her. What was she even talking about? This had to be the most inane conversation I have ever walked into. I took a big sip of my wine.

  I evaded making direct eye contact with Jackson.

  “Are you going to tell us?” Julie urged. I looked at her. Her eyes burned bright, giving her a somewhat alarming look. She loved the conquest. This persona appeared when you mixed Julie, a hot man, wine and some female competition. No one liked this side of her, mostly because she became a tiny bit scary.

  “Tell you what?”

  “Tell us about Jackson’s workouts. We need to know how he created such a perfect hard body.”

  A few other women nodded and leaned in. This entire conversation mortified me. Is this how people flirted? It pained me even to listen. Jackson stared at me without expression.

  “I apologize for my friends,” I said to him. “They’re acting like they just broke out of a nunnery.”

  Jackson looked away. He struggled not to laugh.

  Julie’s laughter peeled so loud; she almost blew out my eardrum. “Maybe we just haven’t met someone of Jackson’s caliber.”

  I hadn’t realized that Jackson’s party experience might be worse than my own.

  Beth squeezed my arm. “Do you mind lending me that soup cookbook you were telling me about?”

  I breathed a huge sigh of relief. That was our code for we needed to talk. “Absolutely. Come with me.”

  We walked away from the group.

  Beth leaned into my ear. “Julie’s acting crazy tonight. She’s barking way out of her league.”

  I sniffed. “She doesn’t seem to think so.”

  “He’s being nice about the fact that she is trying to molest him without ever giving her a single shred of hope that he’s interested.”

  I looked across the room. Jackson listened politely to someone talk. “He’s a nice person.”

  “You didn’t lie. I'm confident that he’s about a thousand times hotter than the hockey player.”

  I took a deep breath. “Ever since he arrived, Matt has been missing in action.”

  “Why?”

  “I have no idea. Meanwhile, I'm trying to plan this wedding and Matt is no help. Jackson is a great houseguest but I just…”

  Beth’s gaze focused on mine. “I get it.”

  “You do?”

  “You’re living with a GQ model, and your fiancé has fucked off. Shit gets complicated.”

  My breath gusted out of me. “I love Matt, but I feel like I haven’t seen him, much less talked to him in weeks.” I lowered my voice and leaned in. “And Jackson is constantly working out with his shirt off. My car is in pieces, so he's driving me everywhere.”

  Beth started to laugh. “And this is a problem why?”

  I shook my head. “He listens to me when I talk, and he cares about things like my art and my job.”

  Beth gave me a sympathetic smile. “He’s treating you like you wished Matt would treat you.”

  “Yes!”

  “Where is that dick anyways?”

  I hesitated. Wanting to confess that another woman had answered his phone, but knew that it would only make Beth angry. “He canceled. He promised me that he would be here, but he bailed at the last minute.”

  Beth sighed and rubbed my arm. “You do realize you deserve better, right?”

  I didn’t want to talk about it.

  “It’s not Matt’s fault. He has a crazy job. I just need to get through to the wedding. That’s my goal.”

  Beth and I chatted a bit more, and despite my pleading, she had to leave. She had an early brunch with her family, and she didn’t want to show up hung over.

  The room felt lonely without her. I glanced around the room. Julie and company were crowding Jackson like a poorly man
nered fan club. I stood in the kitchen alone, sipping my third glass of wine. How many parties in my youth had I attended precisely like this? Where my friends were off chasing some guy, and I was left standing, by myself, feeling socially awkward. I looked around the room. It was my party, my place, but no one noticed me. I needed one moment. I needed to clear my head.

  I walked upstairs, moved into my bedroom and shut the door. I flopped back onto the bed. The music throbbed from below. Loneliness crashed over me. I sucked in a deep breath. I permitted myself to partake in a three-minute pity party, and then I would head back downstairs.

  A soft knock sounded on my door. Before I could answer, Jackson stepped in and shut the door behind him. His size dominated the room. I pushed myself into a sitting position.

  “Is everything okay?” my voice sounded raspy.

  “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

  I blew the bangs off my forehead. “Just taking a breather.”

  “Where’s Matt?”

  “Working.”

  “Seems like that’s all he does.”

  “Agreed.”

  He frowned and walked over to sit on the bed beside me. “You sure you’re okay?”

  I nodded, trying to swallow the lump from my throat. His care exacerbated my pity party feelings. “I think I was having some University flashbacks.”

  His gaze sharpened, but he remained silent.

  “I thought I had grown out of standing off to the side and watching my friends flirt with the hottest guy in the room.”

  I exhaled and pasted a smile on my face.

  “Wait,” he paused, thinking. “Am I the quarterback?”

  “Shut up.” My voice was devoid of meaning.

  “Em,” his quiet voice sounded sincere. “I bet those University guys were dying to come and talk to you, but they didn’t have the balls.”

  I snorted. “Trust me. You had to be there.”

  He lifted a hand and brushed a strand of hair off my cheek. “I see you standing off to the side. You're so untouchable to the rest of the world, it hurts.”

  I grabbed his thick wrist, and my eyes drifted shut when I felt his thumb gently brush my cheek.

  “I bet they constantly thought about kissing you.” His low voice hypnotized me.

  I opened my eyes. Green eyes studied my face. His huge hand slide around the back of my neck and then he pulled me close.