Baseball and Other Lessons (Devil's Ranch Book 2) (10 page)

“What crazy stuff are they up to now?”

She grimaced. “She’s making Lacey stir shit as a science project.”

“Do I even want to know what kind of shit?”

“Human.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“I know, right!”

“Why’s Matt glaring at me?”

Jenn glanced over at Matt, who was looking down at his phone. “Um, he’s not.”

Owen grinned before leaning back in and lowering his voice just slightly to say, “No, but he’s been watching you the entire time.”

A tingle ran down Jenn’s back from her head to her toes, and she silently beat down the butterflies that suddenly erupted in her stomach. “You’re seeing things, Owen.”

“No, I’m not. I don’t know what happened or what’s going on between the two of you, but that man can barely keep his eyes off of you.”

Jenn snorted. “Now I know you’re full of it. He’s Matt freaking Roberts. He can have any woman he wants!”

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this because you’re like a sister to me, but Jenn, I’m pretty sure he wants you.”

“You might want to go get your eyes checked, dude. In the meantime, I’m going to go get another drink.”

She spun away from Owen and the supposedly hot stares from Matt and marched up to the bar. She caught Shae, the bartender’s eye, and signaled to the younger woman that she would like another margarita. She briefly thought about switching drinks since she, Matt and margaritas didn’t seem to be the greatest of combinations. Oh hell, she was willing to risk it. Mostly because she wasn’t about to allow herself to be alone with Matt tonight.

Or ever.

Maybe.

Disgusted with herself she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. This was getting beyond ridiculous. If she wasn’t mad at him she was pretending to be mad at him just so she wouldn’t jump his bones again.

And
that
pissed her off. The man had walked out on her without so much as a goodbye and yet she still wanted him.

Maybe her family’s crazy had rubbed off on her.

Shae set a margarita in front of Jenn, leaned across the bar and asked, “Is that Matt Roberts over at your table?”

Jenn nodded and sipped the icy, fruity concoction. “Yup. The one and only.”

“Jesus, he really is hotter in person than on TV, isn’t he?”

Oh, you have no idea.
“I guess, if you like assholes.”

Shae glanced at Jenn, a confused expression on her face, but before she could say anything else Jenn brightly said, “Anyway. I better get back over there. Thanks for the refill!”

She took her sweet time walking back to the table, steeling herself for being close to Matt again. She sidled up and between Jo and Owen, which put her across from Matt, and smiled before drawing another drink through her straw.

His eyes narrowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Jenn smiled even wider. Jo and Chase had eyes only for each other, and Owen had been drawn into conversation with some guy she didn’t recognize. Jenn licked margarita sugar off her lips before taking another sip. Across from her, Matt shifted in his seat.

She dared to glance at him through her lashes. He was watching her like a hawk watches a rabbit, and warmth that had nothing to do with tequila sluiced through her body. Suddenly nervous, Jenn pushed her glass a couple of inches away, turned and walked back to the dance floor. Maroon 5’s “Sugar” gave way to Kelly Clarkson’s “Heartbeat Song” and Jenn closed her eyes and tried to make her mind go blank so she could lose herself in dancing and the music.

She was moving with the song, unselfconsciously, singing along quietly with the words when suddenly there was a warm body behind her seconds before there was a pair of big hands on her hips. She didn’t bother to open her eyes—her stupid body recognized Matt——and continued to dance. He pulled her closer so that their bodies brushed against each other with every movement.

Aware that their friends were just tables away, Jenn pulled away slightly, even though she wanted to move in closer. His fingers tightened on her hips and she couldn’t help but smile. Some little demon must have inhabited her body tonight, because she allowed herself to briefly press against him before pulling away again and spinning to face him.

His hands dropped from her hips and she leaned in, put her mouth to his ear and asked, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Dancing.”

“I didn’t see you as the dancing type.”

“I didn’t see you as the dancing type,” he threw back at her.

She shrugged, closed her eyes again and continued to dance along to the music without paying too much attention to the lyrics. Because, yeah, Matt had definitely turned her heartbeat up.

The final notes of “Heartbeat Song” faded into Sam Smith’s “Stay with Me,” and Jenn abruptly opened her eyes and walked off the dance floor. There was no way in hell she was staying out there with Matt for
that
particular song.

She grabbed her margarita as soon as she reached the table, and promptly downed the rest of it. The tequila hit quick and hard, blurring the hard edges enough that she could breathe again.

She hadn’t planned on getting drunk tonight, but it was beginning to sound like a damned good plan. Matt sat back down on his barstool across from her, and she turned her back to head towards the bar again.

She had to get that man out of her head, and in her slightly buzzed state more tequila seemed like the best way to go about doing that.

#

Since Matt had stepped out on the dance floor with Jenn, she’d successfully avoided their table—and him. Instead, she’d danced almost every dance, with small margarita breaks. She danced and laughed, drank, and did a pretty damned good job of ignoring him.

The pop tunes from earlier had switched over to country, and he watched as she chatted with some cowboy as Mike Ryan’s “Dancing All Around It” poured through the bar’s speakers. She’d definitely been dancing all around the tension between them all night, seemingly preferring to get drunk and ignore it rather than be an adult and talk about it.

Matt rubbed his hand over his face. What the hell was wrong with him? Since when did he want to talk about his feelings?

Christ, the woman had him all kinds of mixed up.

The cowboy leaned closer and then looked down her shirt. Jenn didn’t seem to notice, or if she did notice she didn’t mind. He shouldn’t mind, but he did. Dammit.

She finally clued in to the creep staring down her shirt, grabbed her margarita, smiled politely and turned away from the cowboy. As she walked back towards their table, Wade Bowen’s “Trouble” began playing.

Jesus, did the DJ have some sort of super mind-reading powers or something?

Jenn set her half-full glass on the table opposite him, hopped up on to her seat and grinned. “I love this song. It’s just…sweet.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Wait a second. Are you actually starting a conversation with me?”

Jenn frowned and started to slide off her barstool. “If you’re gonna be an ass, Matt Roberts, I’ll go somewhere else.”

He reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “I wasn’t trying to be an ass, promise.”

Her forehead puckered just above her nose, but at least she slid back on to her seat.

“So you’re a Wade Bowen fan, huh?”
Scintillating conversation topic there, Roberts.

“Yup. Where is everyone?”

Matt tilted his head to the left. “Playing pool.”

“Oh, I guess I should maybe join them.”

“Running away?”

Her green eyes met his and he felt her sadness all the way to his toes. “It’s called self-preservation, Matt.”

Apparently Jenn was an honest drunk.

“Why self-preservation?” He knew why, but he needed to hear her say it.

She looked away. “You know why.”

“I’m not sure I do.” He was pretty sure he did.

She blew a curl out of her face. “Yes, you do.”

Like the soundtrack of a movie, “Trouble” faded into The Civil Wars’ “The One That Got Away,” and Jenn thunked her head on the table before looking back up at him and saying, “Okay, is it just me or does this DJ have some really weird, screwed up sense of humor?”

Matt laughed. “I’ve been thinking the same thing all night.”

“I mean, seriously. There are times when I really wish I’d never, ever seen your face.”

Matt considered her words. “I get that. There are times when I wish I’d never, ever seen your face, too.”

Green eyes narrowed. “You’re a dick.”

“No, I’m being honest. Seeing each other’s faces and being the ones that got away sure as hell didn’t make life simpler, did it?”

She shook her head. “No. It didn’t.”

She slid off her barstool and grabbed her glass. “In the meantime,
Pooh Bear
, I’m going to take my face over to the pool table so that you don’t have to see it.”

“Jenn, wait!” Dammit, how had that conversation gotten so far out in left field?

She waved at him over her shoulder and he closed his eyes. Jesus, why couldn’t he seem to find the right words around her?

#

Jenn walked away from Matt, her heart pounding and tears stinging behind her eyes. She wasn’t sure why she was so upset, considering she’d been the one to say she wished she’d never seen his face.

She just hadn’t expected him to agree.

The hell of it was that when she said it, she wasn’t trying to be mean for once, just honest. If she was honest with herself, she did wish she hadn’t seen him that night, because that night had knocked her world right off its axis. Sometimes she regretted her decision to sleep with him that night. Other times, she pulled the good parts out and savored the memory of what was still, hands-down, the most intimate experience of her life.

She reached the pool table. Jo looked over and her best friend’s smile turned to a concerned frown. Jo sidled up next to Jenn and wrapped an arm around her waist. “You okay? You look like someone just kicked your puppy.”

Jenn’s laugh was humorless. “Just another conversation with Matt.”

Jo pulled Jenn into a corner and turned them so that they were facing each other. “Okay, Jennifer McDonnell, what the hell is going on between you two?”

Jenn stared at a painting on the opposite wall. “Nothing’s going on, Jo. Like I’ve told you before, we just don’t get along.”

“Nothing my ass! Have you seen the way that man looks at you?”

“Shh! Quiet down!”

Jo dropped her voice to something more closely resembling a stage whisper. “Seriously, Jenn. Matt looks at you like he wants to throw you over his shoulder, take you home and tie you up.”

Warmth flooded through Jenn’s body at the image that popped into her head. “Jesus, Jo! No, he doesn’t!”

“Yes, he does. Trust me on this one. And if Matt’s anywhere near as good in bed as his brother, what the hell are you waiting for?”

“Oh my God. Jo. Too much information.”

She wasn’t about to tell Jo that Matt was probably better than Chase because, well, that would be both hard to explain and kind of weird because she honestly didn’t want to think about Chase naked.

“Fine. Whatever. I know there’s something going on, though. I know you, and I can see it on Matt’s face. Something’s happened between you two at some point, and it’s eating y’all alive.”

Jenn took a steadying sip of margarita. “It’s in the past, Jo. Him being here is just making things difficult, that’s all.”

Jo poked Jenn’s arm. “Aha! So I was right?”

Jenn rolled her eyes. “It was a long time ago, Jo. Just let it go.”

“Nope. Not gonna happen.”

Jenn sighed. “Are you sure you can’t go back to Austin sooner?”

Jo snorted. “Not a chance.”

Chapter Nine

Jenn woke up the
next morning with fuzzy teeth, a roiling stomach and a construction crew swinging sledge hammers in her head.

“Ugh.” She rolled over in bed and buried her head in her pillow, willing the nausea and pounding to go away.

After a few minutes, the nausea subsided but the pounding didn’t, and she belatedly realized someone was knocking on her door. She glanced at her alarm clock. 9:48 a.m. Ugh.

The knocking continued and she muttered, “Hold on to your horses. I’m coming, I’m coming.”

She unlocked the door and opened it without thinking to look through the peephole at first, and reflexively slammed the door shut when she saw who was standing on her porch. The only problem was the door didn’t slam shut, it just quietly opened back up seconds before a certain six foot two pitcher stepped inside.

Not even bothering to speak, she headed towards the kitchen and her Keurig. Going through the motions, she grabbed a mug from a cabinet, popped a pod of Columbia’s finest into the machine and pressed the button to make it brew. Seconds later, the smell of coffee wafted through the kitchen. Before the Keurig was done, Matt joined her in the kitchen and set an orange and white striped bag on the counter top in front of her.