Working It (10 page)

 

T
HEY'D BEEN DRIVING
all morning and working all afternoon, and Drew was bone-tired from both sitting in the car and racking his brain. He'd spied the junior high school as they were pulling into the motel. More important, he'd spied the basketball courts that were in walking distance. It was now about nine o'clock at
night. The school was deserted but the lights stayed on. He bounced his old basketball methodically.

She's really an amazing woman.

He arched his back, then tossed the ball. It ricocheted off of the rim and he trotted over to where it was bouncing.

It was a delicate business, getting to know Jade Morrow. Kind of like waltzing over a minefield. Ever since her impassioned plea, and his subsequent apology, they'd been nervous around each other. That was lessening, but he still wanted to know more about her. Whenever he pressed too close, though, she'd cut him off, burying him in sales details.

He never lost sight of the reason she was there: to help Robson Steel and to help him win over the investors. But the more she taught him, the closer they became. He was learning to trust her. With that came a burning need to know her, who she was, where she came from. Why she was so determined and, when she thought he didn't notice, why she had such an aura of sadness and loneliness. Maybe he was imagining it, but every time they strayed from the sales coaching path, he got more and more of a sense of that underlying feeling.

He wanted to know more about her. The need drove him.

The attraction had been there from the beginning, but as he got closer to her, it had intensified to a fever pitch. It was worse to be in a motel room with her. He often would talk to her stretched out on his stomach to hide the ever-present erection that developed whenever she was in the same room with him. It was insane, he thought ruefully, going for another shot, this time sink
ing it. It was ludicrous. But he wasn't going to argue with it.

He wanted Jade Morrow more than he wanted almost anything.

He shook his head, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. They were in Colorado, with its cool, rich tree smells…a sharp counterpoint to the desert scents they'd breathed in Nevada and New Mexico. It was a long, tiring trek. He enjoyed the scenery, especially with Jade oohing and aahing over it in the car.

Jade. He bounced the ball. It always came down to her.

You're not going to get anywhere with it.
He needed to focus on the job at hand. There was a factory, there was a town that was counting on him. He'd called in, and while Ken was happy about the sales numbers, he was also concerned. Drew could easily tell. Still, the road trip, with a different bed every night, the variations on a theme motel roulette, endless stretches of highway…he felt as if the whole thing was removed from reality. Here, there wasn't a plant headed for bankruptcy, or Ken coldly reminding him of his family duties and responsibilities to Robson Steel and San Angelo. Here, there was only the road, the sales calls…and Jade.

He dribbled, ran for a lay-up, sending the ball spinning from the backboard through the hoop with a loud swish.

Forget Jade. Tire yourself out. Get some sleep.

“Nice shot.”

He spun.

Jade was standing there, her fingers laced in the chain-link fence. She was wearing a pair of shorts and
a tank top, her legs long and luscious. She was wearing tennis shoes.

“The car ride has been hell on my back,” she said with a rueful grin. “I needed the exercise, so I went for a jog. Then I thought you looked familiar.”

“Yeah. I felt the same way,” he said, sternly telling his body to calm down. He was just wearing a pair of sweats, his shirt tucked into the elastic waistband. If he started getting hard, she was sure to notice.

She walked toward him, her eyes speculative. “Mind if I try?”

He bounced the ball to her. “Do you play?”

She grinned. “I was almost this tall by the time I was eleven,” she said. “What do you think?”

He stepped away from the basket. “Be my guest.”

She stepped up to the painted line that marked the key, with all the intensity of Michael Jordan. She didn't even spare him a look. She leaned back, then sank one of the sweetest hook shots he'd seen in a long time. He whistled softly.

She sent him a quick, saucy smile. Then proceeded to do three more baskets, in quick succession, from various places around the court. He was torn between admiring her fit, lithe body, and admiring her playing. He figured it was about fifty-fifty.

She wiped at her forehead with the back of her hand, her body arching a little bit, her head tilted back, her eyes closed. Her full mouth curving in a smile.

His body went hard in a rush.
Make that eighty-twenty in favor of her body.

He grimaced and ran after the ball, bouncing it, facing away from her, trying to get himself back under control. “Well, sure, it's easy to sink baskets when
there's nobody in your way,” he said, trying to distract her.

He glanced at her over his shoulder. She was grinning, but her eyes were lit with battle. “You wouldn't be talking trash if you played me,” she said. “One-on-one. Come on.”

“I'm not playing one-on-one with you,” he said, and suppressed a laugh. “You're a
girl.
”

She strode up to him, taking the ball, her hair bouncing wildly. “Now you're gonna get it.”

He'd hoped she'd say that. Too bad it was the wrong context.

He faced her, confident. She dribbled the ball, her eyes never leaving his. Then she made a quick break, faking him out, and headed for the basket for a quick lay-up. He heard the swoosh, barely, over her shouted, “Yes!”

“One point for me,” she said, hardly even winded. She bounced him the ball. “Your turn, slick.”

“We're going for—what, fifteen?”

“Twenty,” she said with a shrug, then smiled.

He thought briefly about letting her win, then smirked. The way she played, he wasn't going to let her win anything. She would probably come close to winning all on her own.

He grinned. Of course, he'd made All State in high school and was the star player on his team. And yeah, he'd been tall early, as well.

“You're not so tough,” he said, grinning, trying to engage her. She was a master at psyching people out—that was sort of what he was paying her to do, he realized.

“Don't need to be tough to beat a guy like you,” she countered with a wink.

“Hope you brought your pen and paper,” he said, getting into the swing of it. He tried faking her out, but she was on him with lightning reflexes. They weren't touching, but they never broke eye contact. He could feel her, just a foot away, tuned to his every movement.

“Why?” she said. She was breathing a little more heavily now, as she chased him in a tight circle by the hoop, blocking his shot.

“Because I'm taking you to school.” With that juvenile taunt in the air, he did a quick turn, sending the ball in an arc for a neat three-point shot from the side of the court. “Sweet. I'll just take one point for that, since we're playing schoolyard rules.”

“Tied,” she said. “But not for long.”

What followed was less half-court basketball and more one-on-one war. The taunting didn't let up, and began to get inventive. She guarded, he faked. He was only three points up on her. He would have been scoring more, he realized, if he wasn't so distracted. He was trying to guard her, but she'd back up and he'd feel the brush of her backside against his groin. He'd get overwhelmed by the sensation of it, pulling away…she had to notice. Not that she showed it. Instead, she'd take the opening and make another point.

This woman is going to kill me,
he thought, watching her do a small victory dance as she got a point closer to his score.
But what a way to go.

“That's seventeen for me,” she panted, resting her hands on her knees.

“Yeah, but I'm at nineteen,” he said. “I make this shot, I win.” He dribbled, judging the distance between him and the hoop…and her, standing there with determination. “You know, you never did say what the stakes were.”

“You're just asking because you're winning,” she said, laughing. “For the moment, anyway. Why? What do you want?”

He kept dribbling, biting back an improper response. “Hmm. Tempt me with something. I want to make this basket worth my while.”

“You tempt me with something,” she replied. “That way I'll have the incentive to grab that ball and get this game back.”

He smiled. “What do you want?”

“If I win,” she said slowly, “you buy me ice cream. Chocolate-chocolate chip. Double scoop.”

“You're a cheap date,” he said with a grin.

“The most dangerous place on earth for you to stand is between me and a bowl of ice cream,” she said with a mock frown. “So what do you want? Or should I say, what are you willing to lose?”

“Huh. Well, when you put it that way…how about a kiss?”

She straightened, her eyes widening. “Excuse me?”

Damn it. He'd said it out loud.

“Nothing. I don't really want anything,” he said hastily. “I'd rather just beat you on principle.”

She looked at him suspiciously, then got back in her stance. “Bring it on, pal.”

He went for the basket. She dogged his every step. Finally he made a full-speed charge for the basket. She jumped in his way as he was making his shot and he inadvertently collided with her, sending her sprawling to the ground even as he made the winning shot.

“Jade! I'm sorry.” He stepped close to her as she turned over. “Are you all right? I'm so sorry.”

“Fair shot,” she said, rubbing her elbow from the ground. “No blood, no foul.”

He gave her a hand, tugging her up gently. He didn't release her hand right away. “Are you sure you're all right?”

She nodded. Then, to his surprise, she took a step closer. The curls around her face were damp with sweat and she wasn't wearing any makeup. Her ponytail made her look younger, less sophisticated. More open.

“So…you're satisfied with just winning on principle, huh?”

He was about to respond when it suddenly went dark.

He looked around. “Damn it. Guess the lights were on a timer.” He was still holding her hand, he realized. “Jade?”

She was standing there, as if she was waiting. She let go of his hand…but still stood just a few inches away from him.

He thought about the consequences of what he was doing, quickly ignored them, and leaned forward to kiss her.

It was a gentle kiss…at first. He rested his hands on her hips, leaning down, finding her mouth by sheer instinct. Her lips felt like heated satin as he parted his lips and hers gently, savoring the texture of her, the pressure of her lips beneath his. She made a little sighing sound, leaning into him. Then he was kissing her hungrily, his tongue sweeping in to taste the deliciously complex flavor of her. He crushed her against his chest. He could feel her fingers creep to the nape of his neck, tugging his head down, pulling him closer to her.

His erection was painfully hard between them. He could feel her nipples like pebbles through the thin cloth of her tank top. He groaned, moving her so she dragged her breasts lightly across his chest. She
moaned, and his hands tightened, pulling her hips to him. The cool night air, the aroma of darkness and pine trees, and the feel of the hot woman beneath his palms was almost more than he could bear.

“Jade,” he groaned, pulling his lips away from her lips to press heated kisses against her neck. “Jade.”

He shouldn't have spoken. Just like that, she pulled away, her breathing uneven. “Damn it.” She didn't sound angry…well, she did sound angry. But it didn't sound as though she was angry at him. “I shouldn't have done that.
We
shouldn't have done that.”

“Like hell,” he said.

“I told you I was going to keep this professional,” she said apologetically. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm not,” he said, taking her hand, pulling her back for a moment and kissing her. But he felt her tugging away, and he let go. “Jade, what's so wrong with this?”

“You're a client, for one thing,” she said. “And I'm…I guess I'm just confused.”

He could make out her silhouette in the light of the crescent moon. Her eyes looked black in the moonlight. “Jade, I don't want to confuse you or do anything you don't want to do. But I have to tell you…I've never wanted a woman the way I want you.”

“I know the feeling,” she said softly. “That's why I'm confused.”

He took a deep breath, then turned away.

“Why don't you take a night to sleep on it?” He couldn't believe he was saying this. He wanted her…he was so close to having her. But she sounded so upset. He didn't want her like that. If he pressed things, there would be recriminations…regrets. He didn't want that.

“We've got an early start tomorrow,” she said, her voice still shaky. “I guess I'll go get some sleep.”

“Okay.” Even though the last thing he wanted to think about was sales, or the plant…or tomorrow, for that matter. “Good night, Jade.”

She hesitated for the briefest second, then replied, “Good night.”

He watched her walk toward the lights of the motel, and all he could think was,
I'd give anything in the world for her to be walking with me.

 

“W
E'RE READY FOR YOU
, Mr. Robson.” Jackie Augustine, co-owner of Augustine's Specialized Trucks, motioned to them with an engaging smile.

Jade watched as Drew took a deep breath, his jaw clenching slightly. “Great. We'll be right in.”

“You're going to do great,” she whispered just before they walked into the meeting room. “Don't be nervous.”