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She tried to smile but she couldn’t quite make the conversion. “One of the hotel people took photos of the breakfast we ordered and now it’s up on the Web with snarky comments like ‘Jack’s fat chick needs her vittles’ and ‘Feeding time for the fat chick.’”
His jaw tensed mid-chew. Heads were going to roll at that hotel once he got through going medieval on their oh-so-hospitable arses.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. Any idea who posted the video?”
“No. I called everyone I know who was there. No one’s owning up.” Every breath of her distress was like a paring knife to his heart. “And you know what the kicker is in all this?”
“There’s a kicker?”
Her eyes blazed and he knew he didn’t want to hear it. “My butt is tweeting.”
Okay, maybe he did want to hear it. “Come again?”
“Gina told me. My butt has its own Twitter account.”
“How do you know it’s yours?” he asked cautiously. “I’m sure there’s plenty of arse on Twitter.”
A couple of indignant taps later, she pointed at her phone. “Look at what it just said.”
The latest tweet from @FatChicksAss read, ‘Wish Jack’s hands were grabbing a meaty handful right now.’
Oh, FatChicksAss, you have no idea.
There was nothing he could say that could make this better. Gamely, he tried all the same. “I’d follow your arse on Twitter any day of the week, Lili.”
She socked him hard in the chest, which shouldn’t have felt good, but it did. Really good.
“How can you make jokes about this?”
The crack in her voice hit him hard in the solar plexus as it dawned on him that for all her bravado, she was having a hard time holding it together. He was used to this, could weather the insults with the never-ending play-by-play analysis of his personal life. Hell, he had no personal life. Now she’d been caught up in his drama in the worst possible way.
He gathered her into his arms and stomped down on the hot charge that ripped through his body. Thankfully, she didn’t resist, but she didn’t relent either.
“Jokes are the only thing you can make. You’ve got to see the funny side or you’ll never get through it. People have been slamming me for years so I stopped reading it.”
She held her body rigid, her forehead on his chest, her fists balled against his double-breasted chef’s jacket. Through ten layers of Kevlar, he would still feel her heat and the swell of her gorgeous breasts. Her disorderly hair begged for his touch, but he compelled his hands to play nice and rub her back benignly.
The sucking sound in his head told him what his brain thought of playing nice.
She peeked up, eyes wide and vulnerable as an LOL web kitten. “When are you leaving Chicago?”
“Soon.”
“Not soon enough,” she muttered.
Reality poured over him like a vat of iced water. Last night leeching into this morning, there had been a wonderful stretch when he thought he had a real chance with this woman. She had shut him down, but he’d been confident he could persuade her to come round. Now, they were irrevocably connected, yet further apart than ever.
He told himself it was for the best. He’d get back to his glamorous life and her amazing behind could return to obscurity. This existence he had chosen precluded normal relationships. He couldn’t even take care of his sister, how in the hell could he protect a wonderful woman like Lili?
With a not-so-accidental lip brush against her forehead, he reluctantly let her go. He had a couple more days in Chicago. He could spend it moping about lost opportunities or he could spend it bringing pleasure to this woman without using the dick that was in danger of shriveling from disuse.
“Pity you’ve cut out all your vices,” he said.
She arched a suspicious eyebrow. He’d never met anyone who projected skeptical quite like she could.
“Because I know what might make you feel better,” he continued.
“Oh, please. Enlighten me.”
