Page 29 of Hot for the Jerk

“Aw, no worries,” I said, my cheeks getting warm from the attention.“Happy to help.”

The man’s wife wasn’t shy about letting her gaze drift down my body.“I’m sure you are.”

Her husband cleared his throat and tugged her away where they found seats in the sitting room, and each picked up sudoku books.

“Should we do it on the dining room table?”I asked, turning to Raina.

Her green eyes flew open wider than dinner plates and she took a step back, her jaw jutting out, chest puffing up like she was preparing to bite my jugular.“Excuse me?”

“The puzzle?”I said slowly, lifting the box up and giving it a little jiggle.“We can do it on the dining room table here?”

The breath she shoved out from her mouth seemed to shrink her chest and deflate her ire like a pinprick to a balloon, and she nodded.“Sure.That sounds good.”

What the hell did she think I meant?

“Okay …” I headed to the dining room to set it up.She gave me a wider berth than necessary and nearly backed her ass into the woodstove to do it.

I really could not get a read on this woman.

Was she always like this?Or was this just anxiety rearing its head from being away from her kid so long?

Maybe her ghosting me was a blessing in disguise?Maybe I dodged a bullet?

A very pretty bullet though.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Raina

I’dnevercomesoclose to spontaneously orgasming from just watching someone as I did standing there at Lenora’s laundry room window, watching Jagger swing the mighty axe over his head, again and again, crashing it into the wood and splitting it into pieces.

Dear god, the man was sexy.

And when he took off his shirt and his abs started to pop, and his arm muscles flexed, I wasn’t the only woman sighing or fanning herself at the window.

Now, I stood there in front of the woodstove, already an inferno of embarrassment, because I thought Jagger asked me to have sex with him on the dining room table in front of everyone.

Why the fucking fuck did I think that was what he meant?Was I reallythathorny?

Apparently.

Horny or deranged.Possibly both.

When Jagger returned, the puzzle box, cribbage board, and deck of cards in his hands, the heat in my cheeks had barely subsided.Then he flashed me a big smile, and I went right back to being on fire, with the added bonus of butterflies in my belly.

You ghosted the guy years ago and have been a bitch to him ever since.Like you have a chance with him now.Dream the fuck on.

The butterflies in my stomach dragged me away from the warmth of the fire—even though there was so much sweat trickling down my back and between my boobs—to the dining room table where Jagger was busy setting up the puzzle.

“Open to help,” he announced to the other guests.Based on my quick estimation, we were by far the youngest guests—by at least twenty years.

An older couple in matching beige cardigans and brown slacks shuffled over.“We’re avid dissectologists,” the man said.

“What?”I asked, my eye on the seat furthest from Jagger, but the woman swooped in and grabbed it, so I was forced to sitnextto Jagger instead.

“That’s the correct term for a jigsaw puzzle enthusiast,” she said, her voice a little shaky as she glanced up at me through her thick glasses.“I’m Effie.This is Bernie.”

“I’m Raina,” I said, making a conscious effortnotto look at Jagger as he dumped the puzzle pieces onto the table.

---