Three Broken Promises

Chapter 9

Jen

“Rise and shine, sweet cheeks.”

I snuggle closer into my pillow, squeezing my eyes shut against the early morning sunlight streaming into my room. I know I didn’t leave the blinds open before I went to bed. I must be dreaming. And no way is Colin in my room calling me sweet cheeks. I mean, what the hell?

“Jennifer Lynn Cade.” He gives my shoulder a shake and I shrug his hand off, totally aware of the heat from his touch on my skin. “If we want to make it to Sacramento at a decent hour, you need to get up and get ready.”

Okay. Something is definitely wrong with this picture. First, Colin is most definitely in my room. Usually I’m the one in his room trying to wake him up from yet another terrible dream that tends to send him deeper into this downward spiral of self-hatred.

Second, Colin sounds downright affectionate. What the hell?

“Lazy,” he murmurs just before he slaps—yes, slaps—my ass. “Come on, sweet cheeks. Let’s do this.”

I scooch my sweet cheeks away from where I can feel him sitting on my bed. Cracking my eyes open, I find him right next to me, wearing jeans and a dark blue T-shirt that stretches across his shoulders and chest in the yummiest way. The man is as big as a mountain and I’m ready to climb him. “Did you just call me what I think you called me?”

He smiles, and it’s like a billion tiny daggers straight to my heart. I can practically feel it cracking in my chest, he’s so damn beautiful. “Considering your ass is hanging out of those tiny shorts you’re wearing at the moment, I think I can say on proper authority that your cheeks are pretty damn sweet.”

“Oh my God.” The cheeks on my face are so hot my skin feels like it’s going to catch fire as I jerk the blankets back over me. I didn’t even realize I was only half-covered by the comforter and that he could see the tiny shorts I wear to bed. Sans panties.

How freaking mortifying!

His mood doesn’t fit. Lately he’s been so somber and sullen and Mister Downer, I’m surprised to see the smile still pasted to his face. I shouldn’t say “pasted” because it looks genuine and I have to admit, I like seeing it. I like seeing him happy and carefree. It reminds me of the past, before all this heavy, awful shit happened.

“Like I haven’t seen your ass before.” He stands and stretches, lifting his arms high above his head, making a rough sound in the back of his throat that’s undeniably sexy. His shirt rises with the movement, offering a glimpse of his flat, toned stomach, and I’m filled with the urge to lick him there.

God bless America, what is wrong with me? I’m sitting here gaping at him like some sort of shell-shocked war victim. I can’t think about licking Colin’s perfect abs. I need to concentrate on getting the hell out of here before I do something incredibly stupid.

Like, you know, attempt to lick Colin’s abs.

“You’ve got ten minutes to get those sweet cheeks into the shower and get ready. Then we’re hitting the road,” he commands as he drops his arms to his sides, his voice full of that aggressive authority I would never admit arouses me like nothing else.

Sometimes I really love it when he bosses me around.

“Hitting the road where?” I ask, my gaze following his right hand. It reaches beneath his shirt, scratching his belly lazily, lifting the hem so I catch another peek of all that tempting skin. Dark golden hair trails from beneath his navel, a path that, yep, I want to follow with my tongue. See where it takes me.

Hmm, I know exactly where it’ll take me and I so want to go there.

Closing my eyes, I thunk the back of my head hard as hell against the headboard, irritated with my train of thought. Am I horny? Was I having an amazingly realistic sex dream, or what? Having him here in my room, on my bed, I can’t stop thinking about him. What I’d like to do to him. Naked. With my mouth and my tongue and my . . .

“I’m driving you to Sacramento, remember?”

I open my eyes to find him watching me, one brow cocked, his hands on his hips. He looks . . . gorgeous. Good enough to eat. Irritated with me, too—I can see it in his pretty crystal-blue eyes. But there’s amusement flashing there as well, so he’s not that pissed at me.

Only sorta.

“Don’t you have stuff planned today? In Sac? You know, looking for a job, an apartment, all of those important things a girl needs to do to move on with her life?” he prods.

It’s all coming back to me now. God, my brain is a foggy mess, especially when I haven’t had my first cup of coffee yet. “I have two job interviews later today. Both of them not till this afternoon, though.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a job pretty quick.” He sends me a look, one that’s all business. “If you need a reference, don’t hesitate to put my name down on the application. I won’t sabotage this for you, Jen. I hope you know that.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” I automatically say, but really? I’m not too sure. I’m suspicious of his mood. He’s been protesting my wanting to leave since I made the announcement and now he’s going to be my first-class, sexy-as-hell escort into my new life? I don’t get it.

More than anything, I flat-out don’t get him.

“I’d love to stand around and chat, but we’re wasting time. You need to get ready.” He grabs the end of the comforter and yanks it right off me, making me shriek. Damn it, I’m in nothing but a thin white tank top and no bra, plus the shorts that bared my ass to him already.

I may as well be naked.

Scrambling for the comforter, I try and grab it, but he keeps it out of my reach. “I’m practically indecent,” I tell him, giving him a meaningful stare.

He doesn’t pick up the hint. “I’ve seen you in less,” he drawls.

My cheeks warm with embarrassment. “Yeah, when I was eight and you caught me skinny-dipping in the creek. That totally doesn’t count.”

“Actually, you were nine. And it definitely counts.” He smirks. I hate it when he smirks. Makes me think he’s turning into a big ol’ douchebag, though really, I know he’s not. He’s just so damn cocky sometimes and it bugs me, because he has reason to be. The man is almost perfect. “You’ve come to my bed wearing the same exact thing. What’s the big deal?”

“You’re really going to go there?” I’m shocked. This is the last thing I want to do, discuss his scary dreams and bring our mood down. I much prefer the happy, carefree Colin. I can’t remember the last time I saw him like this.

“There are lots of places I’d like to go with you, Jen. I just haven’t told you about them yet.” With that, he turns and leaves my bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind him.

I slump against the headboard the second he’s gone, breathing easy once more. What did he mean by that? He makes me nervous. The whole butterflies-in-the-stomach, I-can’t-eat, I-can-hardly-think-or-talk type of nervous that no other guy has ever been able to make me feel. I love it. I crave it.

It also scares the shit out of me.

“So how were you going to get here?” Colin asks over three hours later as we’re driving around Sacramento, looking for a place to eat close to my first interview. We’d already scoped out the building, Colin overly attentive in making sure it was in a safe, clean neighborhood. He doesn’t want me working in a bad area, he already told me on the drive down. He gave me a fifteen-minute lecture on safety and checking my surroundings wherever I’m at and blah, blah, blah.

At any other time the lecture would have bugged me. Now, I kind of appreciate it. It means he cares. For a man who has a hard time showing his feelings, I cherish this little glimpse. Does that make me lame?

Maybe, but I don’t care.

“What do you mean?” I’m not really paying attention to what he’s saying to me, because I’m so focused on trying to find a decent restaurant before my stomach starts to growl loudly.

“You never did tell me if you arranged a ride with someone else.” He sends me a quick look. “Who was it?”

Oh. Yeah. I did arrange for someone to take me, but I cancelled via text message after Colin left my room. “Jason.” I shrug. He’s one of the waiters at The District. Great guy, going to college, cute and smart. I could be interested if someone weren’t so busy screwing with my head.

Or my heart.

“Jason as in my waiter, Jason?” Colin’s voice is tight. He almost sounds . . . jealous.

Yeah, right.

“I don’t know any other Jasons, so that’s the one.” I keep my gaze purposely averted. No way do I want to look at him, see all the curiosity and speculation. Should I let him think something’s potentially going on between Jason and me? A little jealousy doesn’t hurt. Besides, I don’t need to tell him Jason already has a girlfriend and they’re madly in love. He’s a quiet guy who doesn’t talk much about his private life at work, but when he heard me talking about needing to go to Sacramento for job interviews and not having a ride, he offered. And I accepted.

Colin also doesn’t need to know that Jason’s girlfriend, Kim, would have accompanied us.

“Was he mad you turned him down at the last minute?”

I finally dare to look at him. He’s staring straight ahead, which is a good thing considering he’s driving. His jaw is clenched, and his hands grip the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are white.

Oh yes, he’s definitely jealous. I can’t freaking believe it.

“He was cool. He offered to take me out of the kindness of his heart, not because he already had plans to go to Sacramento or anything. I offered to pay for his gas and the trip would’ve eaten up his entire day off. I’m sure he’s glad I cancelled.” That way he could spend the day with his girlfriend doing whatever the heck they wanted, instead of being my personal chauffer.

“I doubt that,” he mutters, shaking his head. “He probably wanted to get in your pants.”

Such a jerk thing to say—and completely unwarranted. I sorta love it, though. His jealousy is another glimpse of emotion from Colin. “Nope.” When he looks at me once more I offer him a bright smile. “He has a girlfriend.”

“Big deal.”

“Not everyone’s a player.” Like you, I want to say, but I hold my tongue. “He told me he’d bring Kim along. We’ve been upfront with each other since he offered to drive me. We’re just friends,” I stress. Why I need to explain anything to him I have no idea. It’s not like he’s my keeper. He sure acts like it, though. “You’re the only one who’s being so shady.”

“How the hell am I being shady?” He turns into the crowded parking lot of a popular chain restaurant.

Let me count the ways. “I tell you I’m leaving and you flip out. Try to convince me to stay. We argue. We don’t really speak to each other for a couple of days, which is something we never do. Now you’re all agreeable and wanting to help me, no questions asked. Acting jealous when I mention another guy’s name.” I cross my arms in front of my chest, slumping in my seat as he pulls the car into a slot and cuts the engine. “To me, that’s all shady behavior.”

He turns to look at me, leaning forward so he’s dangerously, deliciously close. I can smell him, feel his body heat radiate toward me, and I’m tempted to burrow in like an idiot. “First of all, I know Jason has a girlfriend. So when you mention he’s the one who was going to bring you here, I’m suspicious. I can’t help it. He’s a good guy, but hey, even good guys have bad intentions.”

“Not everyone is a jerk.” I raise my brow.

“Are you saying I’m a jerk?”

His earlier jovial, nothing-bad-has-ever-happened-between-us mood set me on edge. I’m the one who should be suspicious here, not him. And he’s too damn close. I have to spend the rest of the day with him, driving around in his car. Looking at him. Smelling him. God. “You don’t have the best reputation when it comes to women,” I say primly.

“So you’re holding that against me.” His gaze cuts to the windshield and he looks at the restaurant, lost in thought.

I become lost in thought too. I’m a confused mess of emotions when it comes to Colin. Mad, sad, frustrated, aroused—I’m experiencing all of that at this very moment. It’s the craziest thing. All my anger dissipates the longer I look at him. Studying his beautiful face, that firm jaw I long to trace with my lips, his perfect mouth I yearn to kiss . . .

“I want to prove you wrong.” His deep, determined voice breaks through my clouded brain, startling me. “I can’t take away my past. I can’t fix the things I’ve done to you and your family.”

Frowning, I shake my head. “Things you’ve done to me and my family? What are you talking about?”

“I promised them I would take care of you. I promised your brother.” Grimacing, he waves a hand, dismissing my question and his way-too-vague answer. “You want to start a new life and I’m not going to stop you. You deserve happiness, Jen. And if being where you are now doesn’t make you happy, then you need to go out and find that happiness. You deserve it.”

I press my lips together, foolishly overcome by what he’s said. We’re sitting in the parking lot of a lame restaurant having this profound conversation and it feels surreal. Makes me wonder if I’m making a huge mistake, leaving him. Leaving everything I know behind so I can forge a new start in life for . . . what? A change? A challenge? To escape my past?

My past is creeping up on me and bleeding into my present more and more. That’s enough to make me want to run and hide.

Reaching behind me, I rub my nape, brushing against the healing scabs on my butterfly tattoo with my fingers. Touching it grounds me, reminds me that I’m changing my life for the better. I’ve been thinking about Danny a lot lately. How he wouldn’t want to see me miserable. How he wouldn’t want to see Colin miserable, either.

It makes me wonder if spending so much time with each other is exactly what’s making us so miserable . . .

“Let’s go get lunch,” I say softly, desperate to change the subject before I say something really stupid. “I’m starving, and my interview’s in little over an hour.”

Without looking at me, he reaches for his door handle. He’s just about to open the door when I touch him, my fingers curling around his forearm. “Thank you,” I murmur.

He turns to look at me over his shoulder. “For what?”

“For encouraging me.” I don’t want to let him go. His arm is pure muscle and sinew, and I can feel the soft hairs tickling my fingertips. Dropping my gaze, I study his big hand, those long, capable fingers.

“I’d do anything for you, Jennifer.” I jerk my head up when he calls me by my full name, my startled gaze meeting his. “Someday I hope you’ll realize that.”