Forever in My Heart Page 9

  He finished the pastry and was halfway through his coffee when Tristan dropped into the chair across from him, armed with his own cup of java and a blueberry muffin.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  Jamie arched an eyebrow. “You tell me. Things looked pretty hot and heavy with Lucy. And I couldn’t help noticing she spent the night last night.”

  Tristan gave him a wide smile. “She did.”

  “Good for you, then.”

  “Oh, it was.”

  While he was happy for his best friend, a part of Jamie felt a bit jealous that he didn’t have a beautiful woman in his bed. A brief flash of Vicky came to mind, with her hands stroking his stomach and full lips slightly parted. Kissable lips. He’d thought about those lips too many times over the past nine years. He took a gulp of coffee, willing himself to forget about Vicky.

  “I asked you here because I wanted to see the designs you created for the café.”

  “Really? What changed your mind?”

  “My dead brother and a slimeball named Jimmy.”

  Tristan raised his eyebrows. “Do I even want to know what that’s all about?”

  “Probably not, but I could use your help.”

  “Okay, shoot.”

  “Sal had a flash drive hidden somewhere. Now his goon friends want it and think I know where it is or can find it.”

  “Which, I presume, you can’t?” Tristan said.

  “Right. I’m fairly certain they’re behind last night’s break-in.”

  “So now what?”

  “I need to figure out where the drive is and get these clowns off my back.”

  “What happens if you find it?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I could look at whatever’s on it, but I know it will lead me to something illegal, and I don’t want to be any more involved than I already am.” Jamie rubbed his day old scruff. “I could give it to the cops.”

  “Like Vicky’s brother, Nick?”

  Jamie exhaled. “Yeah, although I don’t like helping out the guy.”

  “It would show you’ve nothing to hide. Besides, maybe he has some leads.”

  “The man’s so against me and my family he probably won’t believe me. Or worse, he’ll think I’m in on it.”

  “What’s your plan, then?”

  Jamie scanned the room. The place was set up to be a café but still had the ambiance of a pizzeria, right down to the black and white checkerboard floor.

  “I’ve gone through his room at my parents’ house and found nothing. Besides, that would be too obvious. Sal was an asshole, but a smart one. The last place he was before he died was here.”

  “What was he doing here?”

  Jamie recalled the day Vicky told him about what his brother had done.

  “Sal held Vicky and her nephew hostage in order to lure Kate here. Sal blamed Kate for our brother’s death. It didn’t matter to Sal that Mario was drunk when the accident happened. He wanted revenge for Mario’s death and planned to rape Kate that night. Great family, right?”

  “Makes me grateful I’m an only child,” Tristan said in a light tone. “So you think he may have hidden the drive here?”

  “It’s possible. That’s why I’m thinking if I can convince Vicky to let us fix up the place, we can search while doing renovations. And she gets her place de-pizzeria-ized.”

  “It would also be good promotion for us and may help draw some business when they see her allowing you to work on her place.”

  “Another plus. What better way to show there’s no hard feelings between our families than if I’m working here.” He nodded to the back of the store. “You think I can convince her?”

  Tristan slid a folder toward him. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  ****

  Vicky stood in the stall attempting to wrestle the new shower massager she’d bought out of the plastic. Why did they make it so difficult to open the darn thing without having to completely destroy the packaging? She sure as hell hoped it lived up to the spa-like experience it promised on the outside, although anything would be better than the pathetic stream of water the old head had trickled.

  The blare of Katy Perry’s “Roar” came blasting through the speakers of her MP3 player dock, and she unconsciously started to sing. One of the best parts of living on her own was not having to fight for bathroom time and being able to sing whenever and however loudly she wanted to.

  She grabbed a pair of utility scissors from the toolbox and hacked the remaining plastic apart. The hell with it. If it needed to be returned, the store would have to take it busted up packaging and all.

  She bent over to lay the shower head on the floor, and as she rose, her heart lurched at the sight before her. Jamie stood in the doorway, filling it with broad shoulders, long legs, and rippling muscles. He wore a form-fitting black T-shirt tucked into jeans that hugged him in all the right places. She forced herself not to notice how the denim cupped him between the legs.

  He didn’t say anything, but she could feel the heat of his deep blue eyes as he took in her messy hair she’d pulled up into a ponytail. Then there were the ripped denim shorts she’d thrown on and the white tank top she wore, braless, because she lived alone, so why the hell not? It was a good thing she’d actually worn a shirt at all. Another perk of living alone was walking through her tiny one-room apartment, naked. Now, with Jamie staring at her, it almost seemed as though she were nude. As his gaze swept over her breasts, she felt the tingle of her nipples hardening. Traitor.

  “I see you still like to sing,” he said with a cocky grin.

  Figures he’d have to remember her loud and slightly off-key voice.

  “Don’t you believe in knocking before breaking into someone’s apartment?” she spat out, unnerved by her reaction to him.

  “I knocked, but you couldn’t hear me over the music. The door wasn’t fully latched and opened when I knocked.”

  “And you took that as a sign it was okay to come on in?”

  A smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “Looks that way.”

  When he turned to lower the volume, she snagged a peek at how his jeans hugged his fabulous ass. The man was a walking advertisement for sex, and he didn’t even seem to be aware of it. She could completely see him sprawled out on a bed, chest bare, pants unzipped, a sleepy come-get-me expression on his face. Her cheeks flushed at the visual. God, she needed to get a grip, and apparently get laid—soon.

  She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “What did you come by for?”

  He held up a folder. “I have sketches Tristan drew I wanted to show you.”

  “Of what?”

  Removing the first page, he held it up. “Of the café.”

  Curious, she stepped out of the shower and moved toward him. The page was hand-drawn in pencil and shaded with colors. It was the café only completely different. Gone was the black and white checkered floor—which she hated. In its place was a light-colored wood floor in squares, rather than strips. The walls were painted a pale blue and one entire side was covered with a scene from an Italian village. There were storefronts with baskets of overflowing flowers and cobblestone streets. It was drawn as an outdoor café, with tables and chairs similar to those in the café. It made you feel as though you were part of the village.

  Her annoyance at him for entering unwelcomed disappeared.

  “Tristan drew this?” she asked, reaching for the paper.

  “Yes.”

  “He did a fantastic job. These are beautiful.” And absolutely perfect for the café. It completely conveyed the essence of what she’d wanted. Why did it have to be Jamie showing this to her?

  “Lucy said something about you wanting a separate, semi-private area to host parties.”

  He flipped through the folder and pulled out another sketch. This one had more angular lines.

  “We could create a low platform and elevate a small area, but given the number of women that go through there with strollers, it may be better
to go with this option.” He pointed to the second drawing on the page. “These wooden panels give the illusion of privacy and can be adjusted depending on the size of the party. They would be painted to match the mural on the wall, then folded and stored when you don’t need them or arranged decoratively in the room.”

  It was a brilliant idea.

  “You came up with this, didn’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because we need work, and Lucy mentioned to Tristan that you want to renovate.”

  She needed to have a conversation with Lucy about blabbing about her business to strangers—even if it was pillow talk.

  “The drawings are amazing, but I can’t afford this.”

  “Since you’d be doing us a favor, you’d only have to pay the cost for materials.”

  He pulled out another sheet with a cost breakdown. Jeez, the man was organized.

  “We can work at night so it won’t interfere with your business during the day.”

  She raised her eyebrow at him. Why was he being so nice to her? She didn’t entirely believe the crap about him needing the work.

  “I need to think about this.” She diverted her eyes, trying not to let him see how much she loved what he and his partner had designed.

  “Sure. Look it over and let me or Tristan know if you have any questions or suggested changes.”

  She placed the folder on the sink. When she turned back, he was checking out the inside of the shower.

  “Did you have the tile re-grouted?”

  “It was more that I had new tile installed.”

  “Impressive. Whoever did it did a great job.”

  Vicky laughed. “Really? What would you say if I told you I did it?”

  He stepped inside and continued his inspection. “I’d say it looks professional. When did you learn to do tile-work?”

  “I took a class a month ago. It wasn’t that hard and a heck of a lot cheaper than paying someone.”

  “I’m not surprised. You always could do anything you set your mind to.”

  “Unfortunately, I’m not as talented at replacing fixtures. This must be the original because for the life of me I can’t get it off.”

  To prove her point, she grabbed a pair of adjustable pliers and tried, without success, to loosen the existing fixture.

  “Here, let me help.” Jamie put his hands over hers.

  “Wait, I think I almost have it,” she said when the blasted thing finally started to loosen.

  “It will be easier for me since I’m taller,” he countered.

  She should have let him do it. Rather, she gave another turn, only to feel water leak across her hand causing her grip to slip. Then she lost her balance. To stop herself from falling into him she reached out, only to grab one of the knobs and inadvertently turn the water on.

  Cold water sprayed out of the faucet, causing her to gasp. “Shit!”

  Jamie reached over and turned the knob off.

  By the time the water stopped both her hair and clothes were drenched. Casting a glance at Jamie, she saw he was almost as wet as she, with his T-shirt plastered to his fantastic chest. She wanted to yell at him, blame him for causing this mess, but knew it was her own fault for not listening to him.

  “I’m sorry. I should have let you handle it. Now we’re both soaked.” And a little cold.

  He stood, staring at her, and she couldn’t read the expression on his face. She probably looked a wreck. She stepped to the side to get around him. He blocked her path.

  “This reminds me of the time at the shore we got caught in a rainstorm,” he said.

  She remembered that day. After having been kicked out of her bedroom—again—she’d stomped out onto the porch and ran smack into him. He was leaner then, strong but not muscular like he was now. After listening to her vent, he invited her to get ice cream.

  She smiled at the memory. “That’s right. About halfway to Snuffy’s Scoops, the skies opened up and drenched us.”

  “We ran for cover under someone’s porch, but we’d gotten soaked through,” he said.

  “After it slowed down, I wanted to keep going, but you took off and left me,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “You never did tell me what that was about.”

  He let out a little laugh and looked at the floor. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was embarrassed by something.

  “Well, um.” He cleared his throat and put his hands on her waist. “There we were, soaked, and well, your shirt clung to you. It was difficult not to notice your breasts. You weren’t wearing a bra.”

  Kind of like she wasn’t wearing one now.

  “But I was a late bloomer and had only started showing. I barely had anything.”

  “You had enough, apparently.” He slid his hands up along her ribs. “Your nipples were erect and protruded through your shirt. The way the fabric clung to them, I could see their shape, and well, I was sixteen and got hard.”

  Her eyes flashed to his and widened. “Oh.”

  “I wanted to touch you, but…hell, you were only fifteen. I didn’t have a lot of experience and figured you probably didn’t either. I didn’t know what to do, so I bolted before you saw my condition.”

  Oh, and she would have. Just like it was impossible for her not to be aware that he was hard at this very moment.

  She licked her lips. “What did you do?”

  He gave her a pathetic look and somehow managed to look both cute and embarrassed. “I ran back to the house, locked myself in the bathroom, and jerked off.”

  She let out a nervous laugh. “Really?”

  He pulled her closer until her stomach was flush against his arousal. Clearly, he wasn’t embarrassed by his condition in the present day.

  “I got off, thinking of you the entire time.”

  Suddenly, the room seemed hot, her head slightly dizzy. She should pull away, but she wanted to know more. “What did you think of…when you thought about me?”

  His blue eyes darkened with desire. “I thought about touching you…like this.” He cupped the underside of her breasts, their weight filling his palms. With the slightest touch, he brushed his thumb across a nipple, making the bud spike further than it already had, and causing her to suck in her breath.

  His voice lowered to the barest of whispers, deep and husky. “Then, I imagined tasting you…like this.” Without breaking her gaze, he slid the straps of her tank down her shoulders and pulled the front of the top over her breasts. His warm hands caressed her, gently pinching her nipples until she gasped with the pleasure of his touch.

  Lowering his head, he teased a taut peak with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. Gently at first, then harder until she moaned with desire. After finishing with one breast, he moved onto the next, making sure he gave each of them equal attention.

  Between her legs, she throbbed with a need she hadn’t felt in too long and possibly never as intensely as she had since the last time she was with him. She slid her hands underneath his shirt and rubbed the hard muscles in his back. Then down to his ass, where she pulled him harder against her as she ground into him.

  He sucked in a breath and quickly worked his way up her neck and throat before capturing her mouth. This was no gentle kiss. From the moment their lips met, heat and desire exploded through her. She met the demands of his mouth with those of her own. Each thrust of his tongue created unending pleasure. Vicky never wanted to come up for air.

  Impatient hands tangled in her hair, yanking it out of its restraint so he could ravish it with his fingers. Reaching between them, she rubbed her hand along his erection. The groan he emitted rumbled through her. She wanted him. And she was going to have him.

  Suddenly there was a crash outside the shower, and the next thing Vicky knew, Jamie collapsed.

  Chapter Ten

  Kate stood outside the shower, a hairbrush poised in her hand, ready to strike again.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Vi
cky shouted, pulling the top over her breasts.

  Kneeling, she touched his shoulder. “Jamie, can you hear me? Are you all right?”

  He groaned and grabbed the back of his head. “What the fuck was that?” he asked, pushing up to a sitting position.

  “Get your hands off my sister,” Kate sneered from outside the stall.

  Vicky helped Jamie stand and put her body between him and her temporarily insane sister. When Kate moved forward, Vicky put her hand out to block her from taking another swing.

  “He wasn’t doing anything to me I didn’t want him doing.”

  “Are you crazy? You know who this is and what his family has done to us—to me and you, specifically.”

  “He had nothing to do with that.”

  Kate snorted. “Maybe not, but he’s cut from the same cloth. I’m sure he’s as much of a bastard as his brothers.”

  Jamie tensed behind her. “What my brothers did to your family was horrible. I’m not like them.”

  Kate narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, well, that’s not the way I see it.”

  “Enough!” Vicky shouted. She directed her gaze at Kate. “Back off, Sis.”

  Kate must have seen the fury in her eyes, because she stepped aside, keeping the hairbrush raised.

  As Vicky guided Jamie out of the shower and over to the toilet seat, Lucy and Tristan came barreling into the bathroom.

  “What happened?” Lucy asked.

  “My crazy sister cracked him over the head with a hairbrush. Grab a towel, Luce.”

  After tossing her one, Lucy ran out of the room with another one. “I’ll get ice,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Move your hand, Jamie,” Vicky said.

  “I don’t think I’m bleeding, but it hurts like a son of a bitch,” he said.

  He moved his hand to reveal a huge lump. Lucy returned with ice, and he winced when Vicky gently pressed it to his head.

  “The skin isn’t broken, but I think you should have it examined,” Vicky said.

  “No hospitals,” Jamie spat out. “Just the ice and pain meds will do.”

  “You could have internal bleeding,” Vicky argued.