Page 18 of Jameson’s Salvation

“All right, babe, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jameson pulled open the storm door and made his way in the dark to his truck. First thing on his agenda tomorrow was to get her motion-activated lights.

He was almost home when a thought occurred to him—was Kennedy acting shy because she thought he was going to kiss her? She was staring up at him expectantly, she had licked her lips. But neither of those things supported his notion. Maybe it was his imagination running wild. Maybe she was nervous because she didn’t want him to try something.

Maybe Jameson just needed to cool his jets and stop thinking about all the ways he’d like to fuck Kennedy, and treat her with a little more respect.

But Jameson suspected his fantasies were the tip of the iceberg.

6

Kennedy

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t want to get out of bed when my alarm sounded. I wanted to roll over and enjoy the rest of my dream. But I knew if I’d hit snooze, I’d continue to do it five more times and I had work to do.

Besides, what was the chance I’d fall back into the same dream? Luckily, in my dream, Jameson had already done all the good stuff. When the buzzing started, my Dream Jameson was cuddling me close after he’d given me multiple, really great orgasms.

Unfortunately, it was a dream in every way. In my limited experience there was no such thing as multiple orgasms. Actually, there was no such thing as an orgasm being the result of sex, period. But in my dream, Jameson had indeed made me quiver and shake and scream his name. That was another myth about sex, the screaming. No one actually shouted during sex. Nothing felt that good. But holy hell, in my dream Jameson had been taking me so hard from behind, hitting all the right spots, I was crying out and doing it loudly.

Too bad that particular fantasy would never come true.

There was no way the man had any interest in me other than helping me with Reggie Coleman.

He was crystal clear about that last night when he was leaving. He couldn’t have avoided making any sort of contact with me if he’d tried. Well, he could’ve if he’d left through the back door while I was holding open the front.

When he’d asked me why I was acting shy, I was shocked he’d called me out. Most people wouldn’t notice, and if they had, they certainly wouldn’t have asked about it. But not Jameson, no, he asked about everything. I’d rather poke my eyeballs out with toothpicks than tell him I was thinking what it would be like if he’d leaned down and kissed me goodnight.

Today I had to face him again, and after seeing Dream Jameson naked, I wasn’t sure how I was going to do that and not turn a shade of red.

I looked down at my watch and decided it was time to go in and wash up. Jameson would be here any minute and I’d been out in my yard for the last five hours and I was a sweaty mess. I had enough vegetables to take to the market this week and cover the orders I already had for the local restaurants who purchased from me. I’d spend the rest of the day washing and boxing everything up so tomorrow I could jar the honey I’d collected yesterday.

I was carrying the last crate to my back porch when a shiny, red Ram pickup pulled up my lane and my temper spiked. Jameson did not drive a Ram, he drove a Tundra. And his wasn’t flashy red, waxed to a high-gloss shine. No, Jameson’s was a man’s truck. It was metallic gray, with a blacked-out grill and rims. It looked tough, like the man who drove it. The interior was much cleaner than mine, but his was still a workhorse, not as a way to compensate for a potbelly and low testosterone.

Reggie hefted himself out of his truck and started toward my house. I cut him off before he could reach my newly laid brick walkway.

“Get off my property,” I snapped.

“You should take my deal,” Reggie returned.

“I told you no.”

“Now, listen here, Kennedy, a smart girl like you—”

“Get. Off. My. Land,” I cut off his condescending speech.

I’d heard it before and I wasn’t in the mood to hear it again.

The sound of tires eating up the gravel driveway caught my attention and I wasn’t sure if I was ecstatic Jameson was there, or if I was twice as pissed at Reggie that I hadn’t had time to wash up and Jameson was going to be treated to me looking like I worked in a field all day. Which I had, but I still didn’t want Jameson to see the dirt on my hands and I was sure I stunk to the heavens.

“This is the last time I’m gonna make you an offer,” he stated.

“Great.”

“I don’t think you’re understanding me. I won’t be offering—”

“What won’t you be offering?” Jameson asked, entering the conversation.

Reggie took a step back, probably thinking he had more time to threaten me before Jameson was in earshot.