Can't Help Falling In Love. Wendy Etherington
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start the fight. I didn’t hit anyone. I didn’t destroy any property. Do you have any witnesses who say different?”
“No,” Wes admitted, though he obviously regretted the lack of evidence.
“Then this meeting is over.” Jack rose from the chair, and he didn’t dare look at Skyler. He’d never been arrested over a woman, and he knew one look into her eyes would have him risking much more just to be near her.
Wes stood as well. He was nearly the height and breadth of Jack, but not quite. A difference that certainly didn’t please the lieutenant, who rested his right hand on the butt of the gun strapped to his waist.
“Skyler, I need to talk to Jack alone for a minute.”
“What for?” Skyler asked suspiciously, gazing up at the two men.
“A little man-to-man thing. You understand.” Smiling, Wes gestured toward the door.
“Does it concern me?”
“Yes.”
“Forget it.”
Wes shrugged. “Fine.” He directed his intense blue gaze at Jack. “Stay away from my sister, Tesson.”
Before Jack could do more than tighten his jaw, Skyler leapt to her feet. “Wesley Austin Kimball!” She leaned over the desk, her hands planted firmly in the center. “That’s the rudest—”
“He’s a firefighter, Sky,” Wes interrupted quietly.
Skyler’s gaze darted to Jack, then back to her brother, and Jack had the sinking sensation his job was a bad thing. Usually, women were impressed by his profession. But then she’d suffered a great loss at the hands of fire fighting.
“It’s a brother’s duty to look out for his sister,” Wes continued.
Skyler pressed her lips together. Then, after a penetrating glance in Jack’s direction, she addressed her brother. “You know how much I appreciate your concern, but I can handle this. I don’t need you to protect me from Jack.”
Wes frowned. “You realize if Ben finds out Jack will lose his job.”
Skyler shook her head.
Jack couldn’t help but wonder—did that mean he wouldn’t lose his job, or Ben wouldn’t find out, or there wouldn’t be anything to find out?
“Jack and I will work this out,” she said firmly to Wes. “I don’t want your interference.”
Wes continued to scowl and look puzzled as if Skyler spoke a foreign language, and Jack grinned. Confidence surged through him. If he’d ever had doubts Skyler was worth any risk, he shoved them aside.
Until she strode from the room.
“And don’t think I don’t know about that frat boy with the roses!” Wes called after her.
Skyler slammed the door.
Well, hell. The lady might be interested, but, clearly, he still had a long way to go.
Wes dropped back into his chair and propped his feet on his desk. “Well, ‘Wild Jack’ Tesson, I ran a make on you, you know.”
Wishing he didn’t so completely miss Skyler’s presence, Jack raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
Wes held up his hands. “All part of the background check when you applied for your job.” He paused. “You seem to have a tendency toward barroom brawls.”
“I don’t have any arrests on my record.”
Wes shrugged. “I asked around.”
And heard a lot of stories about his out-there parents and his own wild early years. “I was a bouncer in my grandparents’ bar. I broke up fights. I didn’t start them.”
“Just like tonight.”
Jack was through pretending to be easygoing. And he was through humoring Wes Kimball. He could understand the guy’s need to protect his sister, but not at his expense. Saying nothing, he walked to the door. As he turned the knob, Wes called his name.
He glanced over his shoulder.
Wes held up the arrest report. “Tell you what, Jack ole boy, you stay away from my sister, and I’ll rip this in half.”
Jack wasn’t too worried about being prosecuted, but he guessed Wes could hand his report over to the town council, who’d be less than thrilled to have their newest employee in trouble with the law. But after that kiss with Skyler, feeling the heat they generated, seeing the resolve in her eyes made him realize he had no intention of giving up on her. This little pissing contest between him and Wes wouldn’t discourage him.
Their relationship couldn’t last, he supposed. He’d be off to Atlanta soon, maybe even before she realized he wasn’t good enough for her.
But he had no intention of revealing any of that to Wes. He opened the door. “Keep your report. I’d rather have Skyler.”
“WHY IS MY LUCK so rotten, Monica?”
Checking the fit of her black satin bustier, panties, garter belt, stockings and four-inch, rhinestone-studded shoes in the wall of mirrors, the statuesque redhead sighed. “Skyler, honey, having to spend endless hours planning the Fourth of July celebration with Jack Tesson is good luck, not bad.”
“Humph. The last time I was with him I got punched in the eye, and he got arrested. What does everyone see in him anyway?” Skyler asked as if she hadn’t spent endless hours fantasizing about the luscious firefighter herself.
He’d caught her when she’d fainted, stood up to an entire bar of hostile people, he’d stood up to her brother. All to his detriment. No doubt Wes hadn’t listened to her request that he butt out of her relationship with Jack and had conspired with the mayor to give him the Fourth of July duty as punishment.
The whole mess had Skyler aroused, irritable and guilt-laden. The only positive thing that had happened over the past few days was the swelling around her eye had finally gone down, and she’d reaffirmed her resolve that interest in Jack was completely counterproductive. He was a firefighter. Dangerous and heroic. And leaving. Even Wes—who could be extremely hardheaded—recognized the mismatch. She, Ms. Paranoid Over Her Brothers’ Risky Professions, hot for a firefighter? Absurd. Ridiculous. Out of the question.
“He’s gorgeous, sexy and charming,” Monica said. “And that accent…whew.”
Okay, so maybe the entire female population of Baxter, plus Roland, had excellent taste, but Skyler fully intended to pretend otherwise. “Don’t let Wes hear you say that. He and Jack nearly came to blows the other night.” Wes and Monica had been dating for weeks—a record for her brother—and Skyler had hopes she’d finally have another woman in their testosterone-in-surplus family.
“They nearly came to blows over you. Isn’t that terrific?”
Skyler tugged the lace trim into place, then rose. “No.”
“I’d love to have two men fighting over me.”
“One of them was my brother,” Skyler reminded her friend, though she wouldn’t want two men fighting over her under any circumstance.
“Yeah, well, your brother certainly isn’t that passionate about defending me.”
“Of course he is. He’s crazy about you.”
“I’m not so sure.” Monica stepped onto the raised platform positioned in the center of the large dressing room. The track lighting enhanced her curvy figure and pale skin. She cocked her hip and smiled. “But this will help.”
Skyler walked around Monica, eyeing the fit of the racy lingerie with a critical eye. In the pink-and-gold decorated back room—her bold nod to whorehouse-chic—they had complete privacy to conduct the risqué business of the shop. Fiona had the day off, and Skyler