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Shesmiled, and when her gorgeous brown eyes met his, he swore the heat in the room rose by a few degrees. “Andthey say chivalry is dead.”Shesaid goodbye toBeckett, who waved and then gaveJacka covert thumbs up.Jackfought back the instinct to roll his eyes.Butthen again, why wouldn’tBeckettassumeRosaliewasn’t just another conquest?
Butshe wasn’t.They’dbarely touched, and somehow,Jackalready knew that.Hecouldn’t explain it.Hefelt…magnetized towards her.
Whichwas bad, right?Shouldn’tthe fact that he was feeling shit mean he should keep his distance?
He’dpicked up women before.Dozensof times over the past few years.Sowhy did he feel like a tangled up mess tonight?Amess of feelings and thoughts, hope and fear?Itdidn’t make any sense.
Hegestured for her to proceed him, and he held the door for her, once again winking at her as she passed, just as he had earlier that day.Exceptthis time, she stopped in front of him, an adorably sexy smirk on her lips.
“Youkeep winking at me like that, andI’mgoing to start getting ideas, officer.”
“Whatkind of ideas?” he asked, his blood heating and starting to move south.
“Thekind that would make me a very…”Shemoved closer, arching up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Badgirl.”
Ohholy fuck.Hecouldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman this badly.Alarmbells started to go off somewhere in the recesses of his brain.
Helaughed. “You’refucking adorable, you know that?”
Shelaughed too, her cheeks going pink. “Gladyou think so.”Shemoved past him, stepping out into the snow.Jackwas mesmerized by the way it clung to her hair, falling softly around her.Theentire street was silent, blanketed in white, not a single car or pedestrian to be seen.Itfelt as though the two of them were alone together in a snow globe, trapped inside some kind of glittery miracle.
Becausethat’s what tonight was.Jackalready knew.Itwas a perfect, pristine moment in time.
Theystarted down the street, snow falling around them, the occasional gust of wind whipping the snow around their faces.Instinctively,Jackreached out and took her hand in his.Shedidn’t take it back, instead giving his hand a soft squeeze he barely felt through their gloves.
“So, what’s it really like, working for one of the world’s biggest pop stars?” he asked.Hewanted to know everything about her.She’dmentioned that family was a touchy subject for her, so he decided to go the work route instead.
“I…it’s a job, you know?Ido a lot of the same type of work forCarriethatIdid for the music labels.It’sjust a narrower focus.Iwill say that the job has much blurrier lines than my previous roles, butIdon’t mind, mostly.SometimesIwish it was more challenging, with room to grow, or…”Shetrailed off. “Idon’t know.Ido like it.AndCarrie’sbecome a friend, of sorts.”
“Youmust have all kinds of stories,” he said, his shoulder brushing against hers as they trudged through the snow.
“Ido.ButIalso signed an iron-cladNDAwhenIstarted working with her, so my lips are sealed.”
“Fairenough.”Therewas a beat of silence, and then he asked her, “So, what do you do for fun?Whenyou’re not working?”
Therewas a pause, and he glanced over at her, wondering if maybe she hadn’t heard him.Buthe could see that she was deep in thought.Finally, after several more seconds, she shrugged.
“I…don’t know.Imostly just work.”
“Oh, come on.Theremust be something.Ahobby, your favorite way to unwind.”
“Whatdo you do for fun?” she asked, turning the question back on him.
“Iplay hockey, spend time with my family.Iwork out.Ivolunteer at a local food bank.”
Shelooked over at him, a playful glint in her eyes. “Youreally areCaptainAmerica, aren’t you?”
Bloodrushed to the tips of his ears. “No.I’mreally not.”Hewas a divorcedArmyvet who slept around too much.Hewas far from perfect or heroic.Whichwas why he was supposed to be trying to turn over a new leaf.
Hestill could.Hecould walkRosalieback to the hotel to make sure she got back safely and then call it a night.
Hecould.Heshould.
“Tellme about the food bank,” she said, her shoulder brushing against his again.
“It’sinStonyRidge, the next town over, out of thePresbyterianchurch there.It’sopen everySaturdaymorning, and it’s almost entirely volunteer run.Wesolicit donations, and keep a log of all of the enrolled people.Overthe past few years, more and more families have struggled to make ends meet.Thegoal is to give everyone who comes a three-day supply of food, and not just processed junk.Butactual nutritious food—fresh fruit and vegetables, meat, eggs, milk, bread.Andbeyond that, we have a small section with items they can choose to add to their hampers.”
“Howmany families are enrolled?”
