His shock gave way to laughter. Deep, rich laughter that warmed her from the inside out. “You are a constant surprise.”
He hadn’t meant it as a reminder—he had no idea. But she did. And it left a bitter taste in her mouth. “You have no idea.” She stood on tiptoe and tugged his head down, needing him to blot out everything else.
His arms were tight around her, crushing her against him as his lips met hers.
The click and flash of cameras had her pulling away. “Let’s take this someplace more private.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t give a shit. Let them take pictures.”
“I’m pretty sure we don’t want pictures of what I want to do to you floating around.” Her hands gripped the front of his shirt.
He groaned. “Nope.” A final kiss and he was leading her toward his truck, parked on the edge of the lot, by the exit.
“Luke totally scores brownie points.” She smiled, letting him help her up into his truck. “This brings back some memories, Mr. Black.”
“I think you called me Jack or John or Justin then?” He shook his head, slammed the truck door, and came around to climb up and in beside her.
Halfway to Frank’s, Emmy texted.
“Emmy says they’re not coming.” And Krystal was more than okay with that. Nothing sounded better than time, just her and Jace. “What’s the plan?”
“Food.” He looked at her.
With their milkshakes, burgers, and fries bagged up to go, they drove the rest of the way to his place, singing along to the radio.
“Nice,” she said, sliding out of the truck and climbing the steps to his town house. “New construction?” The row of townhomes was finished and, except for his, there were no signs of occupancy.
“Don’t ask me.” He smiled, unlocking the door. “I just live here.”
While he set up their drive-through dinner on the stone-topped dining table, she did a quick walk-through. “It’s nice.”
“It’s…okay.” He shrugged. “Sorta weird to live someplace I had no say-so in.”
She nodded, sitting at the table and devouring her burger. “This is so good.” Her vanilla milkshake was even better.
He was watching her, the bone-melting smile she’d come to expect from him doing just that. Until he said, “We need to talk.”
She set her milkshake cup down. “No, that is absolutely the last thing we need to do.” She shook her head for emphasis. “I need something from you, but it’s not talking.”
His laugh was reluctant. “Why won’t you talk to me?”
“I don’t talk to anyone.” She leaned across the table, grabbed his shirt, and pulled him forward. “It’s part of my charm. Besides, I thought most men weren’t into all the touchy-feely talking stuff.”
“I’m not most men.” His kiss was light.
“Oh, I know.” She was up, coming around the table to pull him to his feet. “I’d like to take the time to fully appreciate how not like most men you are.” She unfastened his jeans, tugging the fabric open, and she dropped to her knees. She smiled up at him. “Starting now.”
* * *
Jace was exhausted. Every time he attempted to have a conversation with Krystal, she’d used sex to make him forget everything except her hands, fingers, tongue, and mouth on his body. As far as a distraction technique went, it was highly effective.
But her determination to distract him only confirmed his suspicions. Whatever was bothering her, whatever the secret, it was at the root of her fears. From intimacy to confidence, it was all tied up in one another. And, dammit all, he was no closer to figuring it out.
She was sound asleep on her stomach, her hand on his chest.
That was something else he’d noticed. Her sleep was restless. Unless he was touching her or she was touching him. Almost as if knowing she wasn’t alone kept the bad dreams away. Considering how little sleep either of them had the night before, he stayed in bed as long as he could. When the room was filled with sunlight and his stomach was growling, he slipped from the bed, pulled on his boxers, and headed downstairs to make breakfast.
The personal shopper nailed the breakfast thing. Bacon. Eggs. Crusty bread, sliced thick, for toast. Butter. Strawberry jam. Orange juice.