The Last Single Maverick. Christine Rimmer
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he could get the words out, Theresa Duvall sauntered up behind him and took the stool on his other side.
“Jace.” Theresa’s hand closed over his arm. He looked down at her fingernails, which were long and done up for the holiday with glittery red stripes and tiny, sparkly little stars. She leaned close and purred, “I’m a determined woman and there is no way you’re escaping me.”
Okay. He knew he only had himself to blame if Theresa considered him the perfect candidate for another no-strings night of meaningless sex. But he really liked Joss. And he’d never have a chance with her now, not with Theresa pulling on his arm, eyeing him like a starving person eyes a steak dinner.
And it wasn’t even that he wanted a chance with Joss. Not that kind of chance anyway. He just liked her a lot, liked talking with her, liked hearing her laugh. He didn’t want her to leave.
Shocked the socks off him when she didn’t leave. Somehow, she picked up on the desperate look he sent her. And not only did she stay right where she was, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him away from Theresa, drawing him close to her side.
Wow. It felt good—really good—to have her holding on to him, to feel her softness and the warmth of her. She smelled like soap and starch and sunshine and roses. And maybe a little tequila.
“Sorry,” she said to Theresa, her tone regretful. “This one’s taken.”
Theresa blinked. And then she let go of his arm and scowled. “Jace, what is your problem? You should have told me you were with someone. I want a good time as much as the next girl, but I would never steal another woman’s man.”
He was totally lost, awash in the superfine sensation of having Joss’s arm around him. But then she nudged him in the side and he realized he was supposed to speak. “Uh, yeah. You’re right, Theresa. I’m an ass. I should have said something.”
Joss clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “We had a fight. He’s been sulking.”
Theresa groaned. “Oh, I know how that goes. Men. I don’t let myself get serious with them anymore. They’re just not worth it.”
Joss pulled him even closer. And then she kissed his ear. It was barely a breath of a kiss. But still, with her arm around him and her lips close to his ear, he could almost forget that he had no interest in women anymore. He was enjoying every minute of this and he wished she would never let go. “I hear you,” she told Theresa, her breath all warm and tempting in his ear. “But when it’s true love, well, what can you do?”
Theresa just shook her head. The bartender approached. Theresa shook her head at him, too. And then, without another word, she got up and left.
Instantly, Joss released him and retreated to her own stool. Jace felt kind of bereft. But then he reminded himself that he should be grateful. She’d done him a favor and gotten Theresa off his back. “Thanks. I owe you one.” He raised his glass.
She tapped hers against it. “Okay, I’ll bite. Who was that?”
“Her name is Theresa Duvall. Last year, she was working at the Hitching Post—it’s this great old-time bar and grill down in town, on the corner of Main Street and Thunder Canyon Road.”
“She seemed like she knew you pretty well.”
“Not really.” He didn’t want to say more. But Joss was looking at him, a look that seemed to expect him to tell the truth. So he did. “I had a thing with her last summer. A very short thing.”
“A thing.”
“Yeah.”
“What, specifically, is a thing?”
He tried not to wince. “See, I knew you would ask that.”
Joss accused gently, “You slept with her.”
“Only once. And technically, well, there was no sleeping.”
She laughed again. Really, she had the best laugh. “Jace, I believe you’re a dog.”
He tipped his drink and stared down into it. “Maybe I was. Not anymore, though. I have changed my ways.”
She made a disbelieving sound. “Right.”
“No, seriously, I’m not the man I used to be. Too bad I’m not real clear on who, exactly, I’ve become. I lack… direction. Everyone says so. I’m not interested in women anymore. I don’t want to get laid. Or married. Also, I’ve given up my place in the family business and my family is freaked over that.”
“You live here in Thunder Canyon?”
“No, in Midland, Texas. Or I did. I have a nice little spread outside of town there. But I’ve put my place up for sale. I’m moving. I just don’t know where to yet. In the meantime, I’m here for a weeklong family reunion—a reunion that is going on right now, here at the resort, over at DJ’s Rib Shack.”
“I have another question, Jace.”
“Shoot.”
“Is there anything you do want?”
“That, Jocelyn Marie, is the question of the hour. Please come with me back to the Rib Shack.”
She was running her finger around the rim of her drink again. “You didn’t answer the question of the hour.”
“All right. There is nothing that I want—except for you to come back to the Rib Shack with me.”
Her smooth brow furrowed a little. “And I would want to go to your family reunion because?”
“Because only you can protect me from my family and all the women who want things from me that I’m not capable of giving them.”
She shook that head of thick brown hair and sat straighter on her stool. “Before I decide whether to go with you or not, I need to get something crystal clear.”
“Fine.”
“I want you to listen very carefully, Jace.”
He assumed a suitably intent expression. “I’m listening.”
“I’m. Not. Going. To. Have. Sex. With. You.”
“Oh, that.” He waved a hand. “It’s okay. I don’t care about that.”
“So you say now.”
“Look, Joss, I like you. You’re the first bright spot in my life in months. I just want to hang around with you for a while. Have a few laughs. No pressure. No drama. Nothing hot and heavy. No big romance.”
She stared at him for several seconds. Her expression said she still wasn’t sure she believed him. Finally she asked, “So you want to be… friends? Honestly? Just friends?”
“My God, I would love that.” He put some money on the bar. “The Rib Shack?”
She downed the last of her margarita. “Why not?”
Chapter Two
Joss surprised herself when she agreed to go with Jace.
But then, she got what he meant when he said that he liked her. She liked him, too. And not because he was tall and lean and handsome with thick, glossy dark hair and velvet-brown eyes. Not because he smelled of soap and a nice, clean, subtle, probably very expensive aftershave. Not because he was undeniably hot.
She didn’t care about hot. Her life had pretty much crumbled to nothing a week before. Finding a hot guy—or any guy for that matter—was the last thing on her mind.
Jocelyn liked Jason because he made her laugh. Because, even though he carried himself like he owned the world, she could see in his eyes that he really was flummoxed by life, that he used to be one guy and now he wasn’t that guy anymore.