As Hot as It Gets (Out of Uniform #10)

She climbed onto the top step so she could look at Jackson without having to tilt her entire head, and when she met his gaze, she hoped he could see the genuine remorse in her eyes.

The wave of shame and guilt had hit her literally two minutes after he’d left her apartment earlier. She hadn’t been kidding—she’d driven to his house almost immediately, and the frustration she’d experienced when she’d realized he wasn’t there had been twisting up her insides for three very long hours.

“I overreacted,” she said quietly. “I was pissed off about my mom showing up, and I took it out on you. I’m so sorry for yelling, and for accusing you of encouraging Danny. It was never your place or responsibility to talk him out of anything, and I’m sorry for saying what I did.”

“Apology accepted, darlin’.” His smile was infinitely gentle. “And I’m sorry if I overstepped when I told you how to handle the situation.”

“No, you were right. I can’t stop him from having sex. All I can do is make sure he’s smart and safe about it.”

“Which he is,” Jackson assured her.

“Then I’m not interfering. And by the way, I’m not going to tell him that you broke his confidence. He doesn’t know that I know about him and Angie, and I’m not going to tell him.” She felt awkward as she added, “I really do appreciate your being there for him, Jackson. Aside from his coach, he doesn’t have any male role models. I know he likes you, and I think you’re a good influence on him, I really do.”

“Thanks for sayin’ that. It means a lot.” Jackson stepped onto the porch, his keys dangling from his long fingers. “You comin’ in?”

She searched his gorgeous face. “Do you want me to?”

“Always.”

“Then yes, but I can only stay for a little bit. I have to be up early tomorrow.”

They walked into the dark house, but rather than switch on any lights, Jackson led her down the shadowy corridor toward his bedroom.

“I keep meaning to ask you…” He paused, looking slightly embarrassed. “What’s the deal with your father? You never talk about him.”

Sadness jammed in her throat. “That’s because I never knew him. He took off when I was four months old.”

A groove cut into Jackson’s forehead. “Wait, then does that mean you and Danny have different fathers?”

“No, we were sired by the same asshole. I know, the ten-year age difference is confusing.” She dropped her purse on the floor and plopped down on the edge of the bed. “My dad ran off with another woman after I was born. He was a truck driver, and I guess he was fucking around a lot whenever he was on the road. Mom, of course, was a wreck. Her husband had cheated on her, she was raising a baby by herself, but instead of learning to stand on her own two feet, she immediately went on the hunt for a new man. From the ages of one to ten, I had five different stepfathers.”

Jackson joined her on the bed. “And then your father came back?” he guessed.

She nodded. “He waltzed into our lives completely out of the blue. Mom was overjoyed. She hopped right back into bed with him, cheating on her latest husband, but of course, her happiness didn’t last.” Bitterness burned Mia’s throat. “My father didn’t say a single word to me in the four days he stayed with us. He just slept with my mom, stole some cash and ran off again.”

“Ah, sugar, I’m sorry.” Sympathy hung from Jackson’s voice.

“Nothing to be sorry about. The man was a total loser—I’m lucky he’s not part of my life.” She shrugged. “But yeah, Mom got pregnant during their four-day fuckfest, and nine months later, Danny was born.”

Mia scooted closer and kissed his cheek. “Okay, we’re done talking now. I still have some apologizing to do.”

“You already apologized,” he protested.

“Yeah, but only with words. Now it’s time to apologize with actions.”

His mouth curved impishly. “I like the way your mind works.”

“Thought you would. Now get on your back, sugar.”

Jackson indulged her, stretching his long, glorious body on the mattress. When she reached for his wifebeater, he sat up so she could peel it off him, then sank down again and propped his muscular arms behind his head.

Her gaze ate up every square inch of his massive chest. Tight six-pack, sleek golden sinew, roped muscles—he radiated strength and masculinity, and yet when her fingertips grazed his warm male flesh, he quivered beneath her touch. Mia bent over and kissed him right between the pecs, then skimmed her tongue over one flat nipple.

She took his husky moan as the green light to continue. She explored the small brown disc with her tongue, nibbling on it with her teeth. Then she moved to his other nipple and played with that too, before kissing a path down his hard stomach, her tongue following the line of hair that arrowed into his waistband.