Standby (Open Skies Book 4) by Becca Jameson (best sales books of all time .TXT) 📗

her posse. Those women are tight. They lean on each other in a way none of us can ever understand. I love that they have that bond.”

“But you’d rather be at home on top of her than here playing poker with us,” Hatch joked.

“Absolutely.” He wasn’t going to lie. “Plus, she’s self-conscious about the bruising all over her body and doesn’t want me focusing on that, so she’s kept herself covered from head to toe for two days.”

“Why do women think we would give a shit about some blemish while we’re in the middle of worshipping their bodies?” Kraft joked. “It makes no sense. Who cares about a few bruises?”

Jake winced. “I totally agree, but I did make her show me today, and I can’t lie, it took a herculean effort to keep a straight face. If that fucking asshole Richman were in a jail cell in Dallas instead of Seattle, I might have stomped out the door and killed him with my bare hands.”

“That bad?” Zip asked.

“Worse. Now, on top of the fact that she’s self-conscious and she’s been through hell and back, I have to worry about erasing what that asshole did to her while she’s in my bed. And—not that this matters in the grand scheme of things of course—but I’ll never be able to spank her sweet ass, and I was kinda looking forward to it.” He forced a smirk to lighten his words.

The guys all winced.

“I’m sorry, man,” Sweets muttered. “It sucks that fucker got ahold of her. I’m certainly glad she no longer has to worry about him harassing her. She didn’t deserve that. No one does.”

“She wasn’t the only one he harassed, was she?” Shooter asked.

Jake shook his head. “No. At least three others. Another flight attendant and two airport employees. There could be more. That’s just the previous three.”

“Jesus. What a dick. And this guy was a senior captain?” Hornet asked.

“Yep. He was leading two lives.”

“Well,” Zip said as he started dealing the cards, “I’d say you give her this one night with her posse and then you go after her.”

“What if pressuring her only makes things worse? It’s like she doesn’t trust herself to take a chance.”

Hatch shook his head. “I saw her that night in Washington, man. She’s head over heels for you when her head doesn’t get in the way. I don’t think you should leave this up to her. Confront her. Tell her how you feel. Make her choose to go all-in. I think if you look her in the eye and give it to her straight, she will realize you’re not fucking around.”

Jake nodded slowly. He certainly wasn’t fucking around. He wanted Shayla. Not halfway. He wanted her all the way. Even with their weird deal, he’d loved having her in his home. It was too quiet and too lonely when she wasn’t there.

He wanted her in his damn bed too. Fuck the bruises. They wouldn’t be there forever, and he had no interest in waiting two weeks for them to fade before he had her. He also had no interest in letting her mull things over that long and talk herself out of trusting him with her heart. Because he truly believed that was the crux of the problem. He knew she was into him. He hoped she was in love with him. But she wasn’t used to being in a committed relationship, so she was scared.

It was time to shake things up and take control.

Jake had worked very little in the last two weeks, checking in every day and making sure no one needed him, but not spending his usual ten hours a day in the office managing the business he owned. His employees understood, and hell, they were all at poker last night encouraging him not to come to work for the rest of the week.

So, now he was standing outside Shayla’s condo, wiping his hands on his jeans and giving himself a pep talk before knocking. He’d rehearsed what he wanted to say about a dozen times this morning. Not to mention he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Now, he had to hope Shayla would hear him out and then take him up on his offer. He couldn’t imagine the alternative. He refused to consider her breaking up with him.

He took a deep breath and was just about to knock when the door suddenly opened. Shayla stood there, nearly walking right into him as she was leaving her condo. “Oh.” Her eyes went wide and she took a step backward. “Hey.”

“You were leaving?”

“Yes. But not now.” She smiled and stepped back. “Come in.”

He stepped inside as she backed up and then she shut the door and dropped her purse on the edge of the couch. “Am I keeping you from something?” he asked.

“No. Coffee?” she asked as she headed for the kitchen area.

“Sure. If you’re having some.”

She headed for the Keurig and popped in a K-cup.

He followed her and leaned a hip against the counter. “How was your girls’ night?”

“It was good. Everyone was able to come. Heather joined our group. I’m glad. I think she and I will be good friends. We have a strange mutual connection.”

He smiled. “True.” He glanced at the overflowing trash. “You gals put away a lot of wine last night,” he teased.

“Indeed. I’m kind of surprised I don’t have a hangover, but I forced myself to pace and ate plenty of snacks.”

“Good.”

“You played poker with the gang?”

“Yep. I guess everyone in your posse knew that.”

“Yep,” she mimicked. How the fuck had things gotten awkward between them?

The first cup of coffee finished and she handed it to him before starting another.

He headed to the fridge and found her favorite creamer before returning to set it next to her.

She stared at it for a moment and then pursed her lips. She was trembling. What the fuck?

He reached out and cupped her face, tipping her head back to meet her gaze. Her eyes were watery. “Sweetheart, what’s