I Wish You Were Mine (Oxford #2)

Jackson was practically shouting now, and they were getting plenty of stares as people slowed on their way to their respective desks.

Lincoln glanced around at the eavesdroppers before swearing quietly under his breath. “Jesus, Burke. Fine, let’s finish this in my office.”

Jackson followed him into his office, but as soon as the door was shut he picked up the argument again. “You could have—”

“First of all,” Lincoln said, slamming his drink on his desk and pulling his cross-body bag over his shoulder and tossing it on his chair, “I didn’t have your girl’s phone number.” He glared at Jackson, visibly pissed. “Second of all, yes, I’m deliberately calling her your girl, because hell, Jackson, I’m not an idiot. You should see your face when you talk about her.”

Jackson’s head snapped back. Sure, now he thought of Mollie as his girl, but up until Friday he’d been doing everything in his power not to. Hell, he’d been the one to set her and Lincoln up.

And yet…

Had he not spent all of Friday wanting to punch Lincoln Mathis’s pretty face?

Had his stomach not turned over at the thought of Mollie wearing that tiny, sexy red dress for anyone but him?

“I’ve dated a lot of women,” Lincoln said quietly. “But I’ve never dated another man’s woman. You’re my friend, man, even if you are an ass.”

“How’d you know—”

“That you were hung up on her?” Lincoln finished for him. “I didn’t. Penelope did. Although it was Cole’s idea to cancel at the last minute. Said you wouldn’t be able to resist being her hero.”

Jackson grunted.

Lincoln picked up his pink beverage, all good humor restored. “So how’d it go, huh? You owe me. I spent Friday night alone with my dog.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “You did?”

“Okay, fine, you caught me. Got laid by the hot bartender in the apartment below me. But then I went back upstairs and cuddled with Kiwi.”

“Who the hell is Kiwi?”

“My dog,” Lincoln said, as though this were obvious.

Jackson shook his head. “You drink pink beverages, you’re wearing a tie clip, and you have a dog named Kiwi. Please tell me Kiwi is a big-ass German shepherd.”

“Nope. Maltese. Five pounds of white fluff that would fit in your hand.”

“That’s sweet,” Jackson said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Do you put bows in her hair?”

“No,” Lincoln said. “She never lets me.”

Jackson shook his head and turned toward the door. “How you get laid is beyond me.”

“Hey, Burke.” Jackson turned back to see a serious look return to Lincoln’s face. “We good?”

Jackson held the other man’s eyes for a moment, realizing that as messed up as his methods might have been, Lincoln had done him a favor. For that matter, so had Penelope and Cole.

“Yeah,” he said. “We’re good.”

Hell, Jackson was better than good. He was great.

At least for now.





Chapter 20


“I swear to God, Mollie, if you’re trying to trick me into trying sushi again…”

“I’m not going to try to make you try sushi,” she said with an eye roll. “But for the record, you sound like a huge baby.”

Three days after sleeping with Jackson, Mollie was all but dragging the reluctant man down Ninth Avenue for a surprise lunch date. The streets of Manhattan were always crowded, but at lunch hour on a Monday, there was a bit of a stampede thing going on. Five minutes later, she led Jackson into a restaurant and watched his face expectantly.

His look of surprise followed by a flash of happiness gave her more satisfaction than it should have considering it was a random weekday lunch.

He glanced at her with a stunned smile. “Barbecue?”

She shrugged. “Don’t get too excited. I can’t vouch for it being the best in the city or anything, but Yelp says it’s good. Plus it’s the closest I could find to your office, but if you’d rather—”

He touched his fingers to her elbow just briefly. “Thank you.”

She bit her lip. “You’re welcome.”

“What about your lunch schedule, though?”

She lifted a shoulder. “I told them I needed an extra hour. They probably think I need to go to the lady doctor or something. Nobody asks questions about Pap smears.”

He winced. “Thanks for that.”

She patted his cheek before following the hostess to a small table.

When they were seated, Mollie didn’t even open her menu. She just watched Jackson’s face light up as his eyes scanned the offerings with enthusiasm.

Truth be told, despite being born and raised in Texas, Mollie had never gotten quite as excited about barbecue as Jackson and Madison were. Maybe she’d spent too much time away from the Lone Star State or something, but she’d take a nice ahi tuna salad over brisket any day. Still, she could easily suffer through a few ribs if it meant Jackson would keep smiling at her.

“Okay, so I’ve been thinking,” she said once the server had taken their drink orders.

He groaned. “You know, don’t you, that a woman starting a sentence that way always means bad things for a man?”

“I’m going to try very hard not to be insulted by that,” she said, eyes narrowed.