His Comfort and Joy. Jessica Bird
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Her boyfriend had every right to touch her. And given the way she’d held on to him during that flashy finale, she wanted the guy’s hands on her.
Damn it.
“Gray? What’s the matter?”
Evidently he’d spoken out loud. “Nothing.”
“We’re up. What do you want?”
Now if that wasn’t a loaded question.
When they’d gone through the line, they took their food over to a picnic table and squeezed in with a couple and their two kids.
Gray bit into a steaming rib. Spicy and piping hot from the grill, the burn on his lips and tongue was distracting, but didn’t go far enough.
Then again, he’d need someone to go Medieval on his ass to get Joy off his mind.
“So tell me something,” Cassandra said as she picked up a piece of chicken, her pinkies cocked.
“Hmm?”
“How long have you wanted her?”
Gray froze.
Okay. So now his pork tasted like an old shoe.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Bennett. I saw how you were looking at Joy just now. And last night.”
Gray stabbed some coleslaw with his plastic fork. Thought about putting the subject on ice. Didn’t.
“You see that guy with her? The young one?”
Cassandra nodded.
“You see how happy he makes her?”
“I see how much she enjoys the dancing. I don’t know how much of it is him.”
Gray leveled his eyes across the picnic table. “Don’t split hairs. She’s glowing. You honestly think I could make her feel that way?”
“Well, yes.”
“Wrong. A girl like that is going to want more than sex, Cass. Hell, she deserves more than that. And flyboy with the smooth moves over there no doubt has love on his tongue and a ring in his pocket. A couple of nights is all I can offer her. Maybe not even that.”
“Don’t shortchange yourself.”
“You know my history and people don’t change.”
“Not true.”
He rolled his eyes and poked at his food. “Fine. I’m not going to change. She’s not my type and I like her too much to—”
“Hi, Gray. Cassandra.”
His head snapped up. Joy and the cook were walking by the table.
As she lifted her hand in a tentative greeting, Gray’s eyes went over every inch of her black sweater and her worn blue jeans. Her hair had curled up around her face from exertion and her cheeks were flushed.
Oh, sweet, beautiful girl, he thought, fingers tightening on his plastic fork until it bent in two. He dropped the thing quickly and wiped his mouth.
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