Not Quite Crazy
Page 32
“You might want to sleep on the couch tonight,” Jason suggested.
The smell of the room would drive her out. “Good idea.”
“Consider it an early Christmas present,” Owen said.
She hugged him hard. “I never expected this.” The home improvement projects had been hers. Owen had helped when he could, but she hadn’t expected him to do any of it on his own.
Owen yawned. “We wanted to have it finished before you got home.”
“I didn’t think you’d get out of Manhattan before ten,” Jason said.
“I’d still be there if Julie had her way.”
“I’m gonna shower,” Owen announced. “Thanks again for helping,” he told Jason.
“Anytime.”
The two bumped fists, and then Owen left them alone.
“I don’t know what to say,” Rachel admitted. Replacing the olive green with this lighter shade brought the space into the current century.
Jason took a few steps toward her, looked above her head. “Thank you works.”
She turned her back to him, looked at the ceiling. “This is one of the nicest things anyone could have done for me.”
“It’s paint.”
“It’s more than just paint. It’s a project. A ton of work.” She turned back around to find him right beside her. A spot of paint dotted his cheek, and she lifted her thumb to brush it off without thinking. It smeared. “Oops.”
“Better?” he asked, grinning.
“The Early American look works well for you.”
“Is that right?”
She laughed.
He glanced down. “The sexy black dress works well for you.”
“Is that right?” She bounced his words back his way.
He leaned closer.
She didn’t back up. Didn’t want to.
“Rachel?”
She watched her name on his lips.
“Yes.”
Jason slid the backs of his fingertips on her collarbone and onto her neck.
She shivered.
“You didn’t say thank you,” he whispered.
Rachel licked her lips. “Thank you, Jason.”
His eyes found hers, briefly, and his lips moved closer. “You’re welcome.”
Her chest lifted with short, unsteady breaths, the heat of his lips only a hair away from hers.
“Oh, God,” she said before taking the last step and reaching his kiss. His lips were soft, his touch tender. How did he smell so damn good?
This was stupid, on so many levels, but she couldn’t stop from touching him any more than she could avoid the smell of fresh paint in the room.
Jason folded her into his arms and arched her back. Everything tingled when his open-mouth kiss deepened and explored. She could drown in his kiss alone, but when his fingers fanned over the small of her back, she melted. When was the last time she’d been held this close, or felt this wanted?
There was no doubt Jason wanted her, and she’d be foolish to think she didn’t want more of him. Her fingers clawed at his chest through his shirt, his lips never left hers. She should come up for air but was afraid to break the spell.
Logic would seep in, and she wanted nothing to do with it.
Jason’s hand slid past her hip and squeezed.
There were stars . . . hot, desirable stars shooting in her stomach and warming her body for the man touching her. She lifted her leg, her hips pushed forward. She didn’t realize her move until she felt him react with a groan.
He pulled back, smoky eyes staring down.
Logic marched forward.
Not yet.
She pulled him back to her lips, didn’t stop him when he filled his hand with her breast. Nipples hardened and her body strained for more.
“Hey, Jason . . . I put your keys by the—”
Owen’s voice stopped them cold.
“Oops, sorry.”
Jason’s hand dropped.
Rachel squeezed her eyes closed. When she opened them, Owen had already backed out of the room.
She dropped her forehead on Jason’s chest and started to laugh.
“That’s a first,” Jason said in her hair.
She took stock of how she was holding him, where his hands were on her. Thank God they hadn’t removed any clothing.
“Oh, boy.”
Jason pulled far away enough to lift her chin with one finger so he could look at her. “Don’t overanalyze this,” he told her.
“How can I not?”
“Just don’t.” He had a goofy smile, and the paint smear on his face had her grinning.
“But you’re my—”
He shook his head, stopped her words with a finger to her lips. “I’m just a guy, falling for a girl.”
“Jason.” How could he say that?
“And you’re just a girl, falling for a guy.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It doesn’t have to be complicated.”
But it was, and they both knew it.
He pulled out of her arms and held her hands. “I’m going home. Going to take a very long, cold shower, and try to get some sleep.”
She could use the cold shower herself.
At the front door, he kissed her again.
She let him.
“I’ll buy you a new dress,” he said, looking down.
Rachel followed his gaze.
Splatters of paint dotted her outfit. “Oh no.”
He placed a hand on the side of her face. “It was worth it.”
Much as she hated to admit it, it was.
Chapter Fourteen
Many corporate businesses housed in the heart of Manhattan all but closed down for the last couple of weeks of the year. Not Fairchild Charters. The private charter business hopped this time of year. Affluent people couldn’t always get the commercial flights they wanted, so they sucked up the cost, booked a charter. The other, more frequent flyers booked their planes months in advance to avoid the hassle of busy holiday traffic and delays.
Much like retail worked the day after Thanksgiving to put their businesses in the black, Fairchild did the same, booking more in the month of December than any other two months combined.
Jason made a point not to visit Rachel at work. The weather stayed surprisingly warm, not allowing for the excuse to carpool to the train station. He didn’t remember the last time he prayed for snow until that year.
Just because he didn’t physically see her at work didn’t mean they weren’t talking.
He would send a flirty text, much of which centered around the type of dress he wanted to buy her to replace her green-paint-spattered polka-dotted black dress she now had. She’d pretend he wasn’t being too personal, and he’d ask her if she always tasted like honey.
The company Christmas party was on a Saturday. As much as he wanted to have Rachel come as his date, he knew she’d never allow it. Instead, he greeted the employees and invited guests and customers. A band played holiday music while the cocktail party progressed. The venue they rented filled quickly, making it hard for him to spot her.
When he did, he forgot to breathe.
“Wow.” She wore red, with spiky black heels showing off her legs.
“What?” Glen stood beside him. “Oh, wow indeed.”
“You’re married,” Jason reminded him before walking away from his brother.
Jason mingled with a few guests before making his way to her side.
“Merry Christmas,” Julie said when he walked up to the both of them.
“Merry Christmas to you, too.”
“The place looks lovely,” Rachel told him.
The smell of the room would drive her out. “Good idea.”
“Consider it an early Christmas present,” Owen said.
She hugged him hard. “I never expected this.” The home improvement projects had been hers. Owen had helped when he could, but she hadn’t expected him to do any of it on his own.
Owen yawned. “We wanted to have it finished before you got home.”
“I didn’t think you’d get out of Manhattan before ten,” Jason said.
“I’d still be there if Julie had her way.”
“I’m gonna shower,” Owen announced. “Thanks again for helping,” he told Jason.
“Anytime.”
The two bumped fists, and then Owen left them alone.
“I don’t know what to say,” Rachel admitted. Replacing the olive green with this lighter shade brought the space into the current century.
Jason took a few steps toward her, looked above her head. “Thank you works.”
She turned her back to him, looked at the ceiling. “This is one of the nicest things anyone could have done for me.”
“It’s paint.”
“It’s more than just paint. It’s a project. A ton of work.” She turned back around to find him right beside her. A spot of paint dotted his cheek, and she lifted her thumb to brush it off without thinking. It smeared. “Oops.”
“Better?” he asked, grinning.
“The Early American look works well for you.”
“Is that right?”
She laughed.
He glanced down. “The sexy black dress works well for you.”
“Is that right?” She bounced his words back his way.
He leaned closer.
She didn’t back up. Didn’t want to.
“Rachel?”
She watched her name on his lips.
“Yes.”
Jason slid the backs of his fingertips on her collarbone and onto her neck.
She shivered.
“You didn’t say thank you,” he whispered.
Rachel licked her lips. “Thank you, Jason.”
His eyes found hers, briefly, and his lips moved closer. “You’re welcome.”
Her chest lifted with short, unsteady breaths, the heat of his lips only a hair away from hers.
“Oh, God,” she said before taking the last step and reaching his kiss. His lips were soft, his touch tender. How did he smell so damn good?
This was stupid, on so many levels, but she couldn’t stop from touching him any more than she could avoid the smell of fresh paint in the room.
Jason folded her into his arms and arched her back. Everything tingled when his open-mouth kiss deepened and explored. She could drown in his kiss alone, but when his fingers fanned over the small of her back, she melted. When was the last time she’d been held this close, or felt this wanted?
There was no doubt Jason wanted her, and she’d be foolish to think she didn’t want more of him. Her fingers clawed at his chest through his shirt, his lips never left hers. She should come up for air but was afraid to break the spell.
Logic would seep in, and she wanted nothing to do with it.
Jason’s hand slid past her hip and squeezed.
There were stars . . . hot, desirable stars shooting in her stomach and warming her body for the man touching her. She lifted her leg, her hips pushed forward. She didn’t realize her move until she felt him react with a groan.
He pulled back, smoky eyes staring down.
Logic marched forward.
Not yet.
She pulled him back to her lips, didn’t stop him when he filled his hand with her breast. Nipples hardened and her body strained for more.
“Hey, Jason . . . I put your keys by the—”
Owen’s voice stopped them cold.
“Oops, sorry.”
Jason’s hand dropped.
Rachel squeezed her eyes closed. When she opened them, Owen had already backed out of the room.
She dropped her forehead on Jason’s chest and started to laugh.
“That’s a first,” Jason said in her hair.
She took stock of how she was holding him, where his hands were on her. Thank God they hadn’t removed any clothing.
“Oh, boy.”
Jason pulled far away enough to lift her chin with one finger so he could look at her. “Don’t overanalyze this,” he told her.
“How can I not?”
“Just don’t.” He had a goofy smile, and the paint smear on his face had her grinning.
“But you’re my—”
He shook his head, stopped her words with a finger to her lips. “I’m just a guy, falling for a girl.”
“Jason.” How could he say that?
“And you’re just a girl, falling for a guy.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It doesn’t have to be complicated.”
But it was, and they both knew it.
He pulled out of her arms and held her hands. “I’m going home. Going to take a very long, cold shower, and try to get some sleep.”
She could use the cold shower herself.
At the front door, he kissed her again.
She let him.
“I’ll buy you a new dress,” he said, looking down.
Rachel followed his gaze.
Splatters of paint dotted her outfit. “Oh no.”
He placed a hand on the side of her face. “It was worth it.”
Much as she hated to admit it, it was.
Chapter Fourteen
Many corporate businesses housed in the heart of Manhattan all but closed down for the last couple of weeks of the year. Not Fairchild Charters. The private charter business hopped this time of year. Affluent people couldn’t always get the commercial flights they wanted, so they sucked up the cost, booked a charter. The other, more frequent flyers booked their planes months in advance to avoid the hassle of busy holiday traffic and delays.
Much like retail worked the day after Thanksgiving to put their businesses in the black, Fairchild did the same, booking more in the month of December than any other two months combined.
Jason made a point not to visit Rachel at work. The weather stayed surprisingly warm, not allowing for the excuse to carpool to the train station. He didn’t remember the last time he prayed for snow until that year.
Just because he didn’t physically see her at work didn’t mean they weren’t talking.
He would send a flirty text, much of which centered around the type of dress he wanted to buy her to replace her green-paint-spattered polka-dotted black dress she now had. She’d pretend he wasn’t being too personal, and he’d ask her if she always tasted like honey.
The company Christmas party was on a Saturday. As much as he wanted to have Rachel come as his date, he knew she’d never allow it. Instead, he greeted the employees and invited guests and customers. A band played holiday music while the cocktail party progressed. The venue they rented filled quickly, making it hard for him to spot her.
When he did, he forgot to breathe.
“Wow.” She wore red, with spiky black heels showing off her legs.
“What?” Glen stood beside him. “Oh, wow indeed.”
“You’re married,” Jason reminded him before walking away from his brother.
Jason mingled with a few guests before making his way to her side.
“Merry Christmas,” Julie said when he walked up to the both of them.
“Merry Christmas to you, too.”
“The place looks lovely,” Rachel told him.
