“Make whoopee?”
He laughed all husky-hot. “For someone who’s allegedly not very good at this, you’re pretty direct.”
Huh. She was. When had that happened? “It’s the stern teacher in me. How’s tonight—after dinner? My boys are with Clifton’s parents tonight and tomorrow night. Can you sneak out after Maizy’s in bed?” Anticipation welled in the pit of her belly.
“I can. You bet, I will.”
“Then tonight. Nine or so, providing Maizy’s in bed by then? You can text me at any time to call it off.”
“Nine it is. I’ll bring the heater and my body.”
“One more little thing. Condoms. I can’t buy them at Brugsby’s unless I want the whole world speculatin’ about my private life.”
“But it’s okay if they speculate about mine?”
His comically astonished look made her laugh. “You’re a man. You don’t care what they speculate about.”
“Point,” he growled in her ear, rubbing his nose along the side of her neck until she almost purred. “I’ll get them. Now, I’ve got a couple of things to clear up here if we’re going to do this. So you, sexy lady, have to go or I won’t get a damn thing done with you distracting me.”
When was the last time someone had told her she was distracting because she was sexy? Chattering too much, maybe, but never sexy. It made her feel desired and giddy. Jax kissed her again before popping open his office door and pointing to the hall. “Hurry, or I make no promises things won’t get sweaty.”
She giggled then straightened, squaring her shoulders when she realized anyone in the office could see them. She smoothed her skirt and cleared her throat. “Um, thanks for the loan of the pen, Jax. G’night.”
Jax rolled his eyes at how forced and ridiculous she sounded, but tonight, she didn’t care.
She was going to have sex with the hottest man in Plum Orchard.
And the first thing she wanted to do was tell Dixie and the girls about it.
But they’d just remind her what no strings attached meant, and then they’d fret over her emotional state.
No. This was her secret to keep. To take out of her fantasy box when no one was looking, and that’s how it would stay.
A secret.
Ten
“What the hell are you doing, Jax?” Tag asked, scaring the shit out of him.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and palmed the condom. He forced himself to act like he hadn’t just been caught stealing birth control from his brother. “Looking for the nail clippers.”
“In my tackle box? Who’re you kiddin’, friend?”
Shit. Caught. Tag kept condoms in his tackle box. Gage kept them in the front pocket of his duffel bag, and he used to keep them in his gym bag. When they’d all lived together in a small apartment, if any one of them ever needed protection, they always knew exactly where to look. Usually, they did it more discreetly than Jax had. His secret spy skills were sorely lacking.
He’d let lust—his unbelievable, ball-clenching lust for Em—make him sloppy. But he wasn’t capable of clear thought where she was concerned. She was soft curves, warm eyes, good smells. Those attributes sucked up all his clear thoughts and left him with a brain made of oatmeal.
Putting a cheesy grin on his face, Jax turned around. “My nails are a total mess.”
Tag’s mouth went flat. “You’re a mess over Emmaline Amos.”
Fair assessment. Mess wasn’t quite accurate. Unsettled by her was a better way to put it. “Who?”
Tag jammed his shoulder with the heel of his hand. “Stop. She’s why you’re digging for condoms, buddy.” He crossed the wide floor of his bedroom to the big walnut-stained armoire he’d made back in high school and opened the cabinets. “Think fast.”
Jax caught the box with ease. He made a big deal out of looking at it like it was a foreign object. “What are these? I was looking for the nail clippers.”
“Are you keeping your mad crush on her a secret?”
He didn’t have a mad crush on Em. A mad crush he’d done. Mad crushes were off the table forever. “No. I have nails that are out of control. That’s what I have.” He held up his hand to show Tag.
But Tag was in one of his moods, and that mood wasn’t in the mood to joke. “Okay, so nail clippers is the new code word for condoms. Question is, why’s it a secret?”
“Because she doesn’t want anyone to know.” Damn. Cat was out of the bag. Repeat, cat’s out of the bag. Their relationship used to be so easy—their communication even easier—the words slipped out of his mouth before he thought about it. These days, he still forgot to measure his words with Tag.
Tag crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes almost hidden by his black knit cap. “Because?”
Because we’re just doing each other. That sounded wrong with Em’s name in the mix. Dirtier than it really was. “You never heard me say that. I said nothing.”