Page 60 of Betting Blind
Cassidy
Three Months Later…
“That ought to do it,” I say to Jack, tossing the final pillow onto our new couch.
“Do we really need to have ‘chopped’ pillows?” He raises a dark brow, pointing to the way I’ve created a fold in the others so that both points stick up at the top.
“Oh! I almost forgot.” I grunt as I karate chop the last pillow down the middle so it matches its other pillow friends.
Jack crosses his ink-covered arms over his chest—looking less than impressed—and I smile wide. “It’s all the rage, babe.” Kissing his cheek, I prance my way into our kitchen. Juliana and Derrick are on their way over for dinner, and I’ve finally made my finishing touches on this bachelor pad.
I pull open the oven and inhale the salty, tangy aroma of Jack’s favorite meal, lasagna.
“I know what you’re thinking.” His smooth words tickle the back of my neck when I close the oven door, and a shiver shoots straight down my spine.
“Oh, do you?”
He wraps his big hands over the flair of my hips from behind, pressing his warm chest against me. “You’re thinking about feeding me in bed, aren’t you?” He nips my ear, and I roll my lower body into him.
“Absolutely not,” I lie.
He spins me around quickly and devours my lips with hungry kisses. “Liar,” he rumbles right as the doorbell rings.
“They’re here.” I swat him, tossing a sinful glance over my shoulder as I leave him to simmer.
I swing the door open to see a pouting Derrick standing beside a blissfully cheerful Juliana. “Hi!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around me as we tumble inside.
“I’m so happy to see you!” I squeeze her so tight that she grunts.
“You just saw each other at work yesterday,” Derrick mutters as he pushes past us.
Jules releases me to place a manicured hand on her hip. I turn my head from her to Derrick, following the line of daggers she’s throwing in his direction.
What in the world is going on between those two?
“Speaking of work,” Jack says as he pulls the casserole dish out of the oven. “Are you getting more comfortable, Juliana?”
The shock of what happened with Bruce sent Jules to a dark place for a little while. She was blessed to have her family growing up, so she didn’t have the fatherly attachment to Bruce that I did, but the terror of knowing we’d trusted someone so dangerous hurt more than either of us were prepared for.
She helps me lower plates from the cabinet as she responds, “You know I can handle those guys up there; they don’t scare me.” She elbows me lightly. “What’d you have to do to get promoted to bar manager?”
Her suggestion has Jack’s eyes lighting with fire and my face burns hot.
Turning on her heel, she takes off across the space for my Bluetooth speaker. “I love what you’ve done with the place!” she says, pairing her phone to the device, and a steady flow of upbeat Spanish music courses through the kitchen.
The three of them fall into easy conversation as we wait for the food to cool, and I quietly step away, letting Jack update them on the latest from Ben. I wish there was more to give, but the one phone call we’ve received was brief, and he wouldn’t tell us where he was staying.
Jack trusted me with turning his house into a home, and I thought the framed pictures hanging behind the kitchen table would be a sweet touch. Jack and I take up most of the collage, but I’ve added in a few old pictures of his grandfather and even some of him and Ben.
An old photo of Ben with his arm slung around Jack’s neck catches my attention. Given their background, it’s easy for anyone looking at this picture to assume they were rough around the edges, but I know the awful truth of their struggles.
I rub the center of my chest to the point of pain as I think about Ben. Jack gets restless at night when he’s worked up and stressing about where Ben is or what Bruce has him doing. He’d never admit it to the guys at work, but he’s terrified. We aren’t even sure if he’s still in town.
Jules and I didn’t turn in a resignation of any kind at Margie’s. Instead, we lit our ridiculous uniforms on fire in the dumpster behind The Pound and cried together as we watched them burn. There was remorse in Bruce’s eyes the night we picked up Ben, and I know a part of him cared for us. He just didn’t care enough.
I pull my attention away from the images and back to the kitchen island. Juliana’s having her own dance party and even though Derrick is clearly upset with her, there’s tenderness in the way he watches her.
Sliding my gaze over Jack’s perfect ass, he turns just in time to catch me in the act, quirking a brow. “Are you checking me out?”
