Can't Hardly Breathe (The Original Heartbreakers #4)

“Can we help you?” he asked the others.

The guy—the ex, he realized. The weatherman. Daniel recognized the polished hair and surfer-boy face. Weatherman was staring at Thea as if she were the answer to all his problems. Which was a major fucking problem.

“Daniel, meet Jazz Connors. He’s here to do a story on our town’s weather patterns,” Thea explained with false cheer. “This is his mistress—oh, I’m sorry, his girlfriend, Charity Sparks.”

“Ex,” Weatherman said.

Charity cast a nervous glance to the men standing behind her. “I didn’t break them up. They were separated when Jazz and I got together.”

“No,” Thea said, “we weren’t.”

“Let’s not do this here.” Weatherman met Daniel’s glare with one of his own. “Who are you?”

Daniel smiled without an ounce of humor. “I’m the boyfriend. And you’ll have to excuse my disheveled appearance. I spent the entire night assuaging someone’s—and I won’t mention any names—insatiable lust.”

He expected a reprimand, but Thea surprised him, turning to trace her fingertips down his chest. “I believe we decided your title is gentleman lover.”

Hot damn, but he could have kissed her.

What the hell? She belonged to him now. They were in this thing together; they’d decided. He kissed her.

Weatherman gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles quickly bleaching of color; it was suddenly very clear he still had feelings for Thea.

Daniel understood. Thea was one of a kind. No one had a sense of humor like hers. No one was more kind or caring, no one more giving. No one had better dance moves, or charmed others so easily. No one had a body like hers. No one had lips like hers. She was passionate enough to blow his ever-loving mind. Beautiful in every way.

But she’s mine.

The fact that Weatherman had cheated on her and then taken a year to fight for her, well, he’d just proved how stupid he was.

“We talked days ago, and you didn’t mention a boyfriend,” Weatherman grated.

“You guys talk? Because I thought you’d told your ex to leave you the hell alone.” Daniel directed the words to Weatherman, knowing the bastard was trying to drive a wedge of jealousy between him and Thea. Not just stupid. Idiotic.

“Something like that.” Her glistening lips pursed. “He calls me. He even used an app to track my phone so he could accost me while I was in the city.”

Well, now. If they were dealing with a stalker situation, things were gonna get mean. And by things he meant his temper.

He made a mental note to ask Brock and Jude to do a background check on the guy.

“He calls you again, he and I are going to have a problem,” Daniel said, staring at Weatherman. A grin curved his mouth, this one all bite and malice. “I tend to beat my problems bloody.”

Weatherman blanched and grumbled, “So unprofessional.”

Dorothea shrugged, all Daniel’s the best man I know. At least, he hoped. The girl, Charity, paled.

“We’re just here to film a three-part segment about the tornadoes, storms and earthquakes the town has experienced in recent times.” Weatherman shifted from one Italian loafer to the other. “Also...I thought I could film you while I’m here and present the video to my network. I can help you get the job of your dreams. Like we always planned.”

Charity offered Thea a brittle smile. “Don’t worry about your appearance. I can help with hair and makeup.”

Thea stiffened, and Daniel cursed the blonde with every fiber of his being. If assholes were airplanes, the inn would now be classified as an airport.

“You thinking what the rest of us are thinking?” he asked Miz Charity. “That Thea is going to overshadow anyone who’s on camera with her?”

Petting his chest once again, Thea rested her head on his shoulder.

“I... Well... Yes, of course.” Charity looked away, saying, “Your inn is so...unique, Dorothea.” She ran her finger over the laminate on the counter. “My grandmother used to have this design in her kitchen.”

“May I speak with you in private, Dorothea?” Weatherman glanced between her and Daniel. “Please.”

No way in hell. Daniel knew the guy wanted Thea back in his bed. And why wouldn’t he? The woman had nearly burned Daniel alive. He’d taken her three times, three different ways, and he hadn’t gotten nearly enough of her.

Usually at this point in a “relationship,” his more violent memories began to plague him. He would move on to a new woman, a new challenge, in need of a new distraction. But he had no glimmer of disconnect this time. He only wanted more of Thea. More of her humor. Her kisses. Her touch. Her breathless moans of surrender. There was nothing sweeter.

Besides, he already had a new and better challenge. Several, actually. Making her smile and laugh—making her happy. The rewards would far outshine any he would find inside another woman.

“A chat won’t be necessary,” Thea announced, saving him from having to pull the he-man card. “We’ve said all we need to say to each other.”

“Here, let me give you guys the address to the nearest hotel. I think you’ll really enjoy the amenities. Namely, you’ll get to keep your balls.” Daniel reached for a piece of paper.

Thea might have whimpered and whispered, “But the money I’d make...”

Charity looked hopeful. “I didn’t know there was a hotel within—”

“No. The nearest hotel is at least twenty miles away,” Jazz said, glaring at Daniel. “We’ll stay here.”

“Wonderful.” Blanking her expression, Charity waved her hand through the air. “Here is absolutely...fine.”

An-n-nd Jazz continued to glare at him.

“Well, all right, then.” Thea inhaled deep, exhaled slow. “Let’s see what we have available.”

The bell over the door tinkled, and Virgil came rushing inside, dragged by Adonis and Echo.

Gasping for breath, Virgil said, “Here they are. Delivered as requested, son.”

Jazz, Charity and company split like the Red Sea. The dogs released a steady stream of barks until they reached the counter, where they promptly jumped up to rest their front paws.

Virgil eyed the newcomers and the array of equipment scattered about the room with suspicion. When his gaze landed on Weatherman, he snapped his fingers. “I recognize you.”

Jazz brightened. “You sure do, sir. I’m Jazz Connors.” He extended his hand to shake. “I’m chief meteorologist for Channel—”

“No, no, that’s not it. You’re our sweet little Dorothea’s ex-husband.”

Now Jazz paled. “I...I’m...”

Virgil slapped his thigh. “Only a real bumble brain can’t keep his unmentionable tucked into his unmentionables while he’s with a woman other than his wife. An honorable man does everything he can to fix the problems at home without straying.”

Jazz flinched but recovered quickly. “If I could go back, sir—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Virgil interjected. “If my sister had been born with a pecker, she would have been my brother. Ain’t no use wishing for what ain’t.”