Chapter 8

“Which team is Grace on?” Diego asked. “What position does she play? Is she any good, or just eye candy?”

Grace Nicholas isn’t just eye candy, Jackson thought, his chest puffed up with pride, his smile bright enough to power the entire Seattle roller-skating rink with light. She was infinitely more. Grace is, hands down, the smartest, most appealing woman I’ve ever met, and I want her bad.

“How long has Grace been a roller derby girl?”

“Beats me.” Jackson sat down in the seat beside Diego’s wheelchair, and handed him an ice-cold beer. The arena was filled with fans, reeked of sweat, cheese nachos and cotton candy, and the drunken women seated behind him giggled as they sang off-key. It wasn’t Jackson’s scene, but since Grace was in the building and he wanted to surprise her, he’d stick it out until her match was over. “If we didn’t hear about this game on the radio, I would have missed it. I spoke to Grace last night, and twice today, but she didn’t mention her big match.”

“You know why, right?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“It’s obvious,” he said smugly, his raised eyebrows crawling up his forehead. “Grace didn’t invite you to her game because she didn’t want to risk you running into her real boyfriend. I don’t blame her. You’re not exactly a catch...”

Jackson didn’t speak, but the murderous expression on his face must have terrified his buddy because Diego bumped elbows with him in an attempt to smooth things over.

“Relax, man. I’m just playing. Everyone knows roller derby chicks love bakers!”

Diego chuckled, guffawed as if he was watching an HBO comedy special.

“No offense, bro, but your career sucks.” He snorted and shook his head as if he was scolding his five-year-old son. “Quit playing Martha Stewart and get a real job. A man’s job.”

His best friend had been teasing him ever since they’d left the house, but Jackson knew what to say to shut him up. “Diss me one more time and you’re uninvited to Chase’s bachelor party next month. Now, that’s funny!”

Panic flashed in his eyes. “We always joke around,” he argued, raking a hand through his short brown hair. “We’re boys. That’s what we do. When did you get so touchy?”

When the woman of my dreams walked into my family bakery and turned my life upside down. Startled by the realization, Jackson deleted the thought from his mind and picked up his beer. It had been a week since Freezergate—what Grace jokingly called the incident in the storage room fridge—but it felt like months had passed since the ordeal. They’d seen each other every night, and their secret affair was not just thrilling, but hot. Some nights Grace came to his place for dinner, one night they went dancing and out for drinks and yesterday they’d both played hooky from work and drove the eighty miles to nearby Ashford, Washington.

His thoughts returned to yesterday and a grin claimed his mouth. To impress her, he’d planned several fun-filled activities and romantic surprises. They’d kicked off the day with a two-hour food tour that took them from one delicious restaurant to the next, then enjoyed a massage at the best spa in the city, but the highlight of the day was boating along Mineral Lake. The sky was clear, the weather perfect, and Grace was warm and personable. They’d talked and laughed, kissed under a curtain of stars, and by the time they returned home Jackson was so hot for Grace he couldn’t think about anything but making love to her.

“Don’t do anything stupid like fall for her,” Diego warned. “Grace works for the competition, and Mariah and Chase will kill you if you hook up with her. Don’t do it, man.”

Jackson tuned him out and kept his eyes open for Grace, searching the arena hoping to catch a glimpse of the brown-eyed beauty. At home, watching TV earlier, he’d texted Grace so many times Diego had accused him of being sprung. Jackson didn’t mind his buddy poking fun at him—he didn’t give a rat’s ass what he thought. Grace was special to him, more important than any other woman in his life, and he wanted her to know he was thinking about her when they were apart. Add to that, they had incredible chemistry. Jackson had needs, insatiable sexual desires, and something told him the roller derby beauty with the luscious lips and banging body could make his fantasies come true.

“Introducing the Curvy Crashers!” the female announcer shouted, her voice slicing through the noise in the packed stadium. “Make some noise for Lady MacDeath!”

Jackson surged to his feet and pumped his fists in the air. Cheering louder than anyone, he watched as the Curvy Crashers took to the rink, smiling, waving and blowing kisses to their fans. Grace looked tough but sexy in her purple starred helmet, fitted tank top and itty-bitty black shorts. The number 49 was written on her cheeks, her makeup was eye-catching and her fishnet stockings drew his gaze down her thighs and legs. He followed her around the rink, tracked her every move, thoughts of making love to her dominating his thoughts.

“Who’s Grace?”

“Number forty-nine.”

Diego whistled. “Jack, you were right. She is stunning.”

“She’s also fun, sophisticated and ridiculously smart,” he said, his heart filled with pride.

“Start an I-Love-Grace fan club,” he joked. “You’re damn near blushing!”

The teams found their place at the start line, the referee blew the whistle and they were off. Roller derby was high-energy, loud and physical, and Jackson loved everything about it. The noise, the hits, how tough and competitive the players were. The crowd was wild, the air was charged with electricity and the excitement was palpable. Flying around the track, Grace showed off her incredible agility, strength and speed. Hectic and fast-paced, there was a lot happening on the track—players fighting, pushing and falling on top of each other—but Jackson kept his eyes on Grace, blocked out everything else in the vicinity, and focused his gaze on her pretty face.

“Man, this game is intense.”

“You’re telling me,” Jackson agreed, blowing out a deep breath. “They’ve only played fifteen minutes, but I’m sitting here sweating bullets and we still have another period to go.”

“How do they score points?”

“Hell if I know! I’m a roller derby virgin just like you.”

Diego took his iPhone out of his jacket pocket and accessed the internet. “Thank God for Google.”

The men chuckled and bumped beer bottles.

“I remember Grace mentioning that she was the lead jammer for her team, whatever that means, but I have no clue how the ref is calling the game, or how the teams earn points.”

“‘Each team puts five players out on the track. One jammer, one pivot and three blockers,’” Diego said as he slid his index finger across the screen. “‘The lead jammer is the only person who can score, and does so by passing the skaters on the opposing team.’”

Listening to Diego read the rules of the game, he realized Grace was the only person on her team who could score, and cheered when she crashed into an opposing player, and the buxom blonde fell to the ground. Decked out in elbow, wrist and knee pads, Grace looked ready for combat, and watching her fight to the lead of the pack made him wonder what kind of lover she was. Was she expressive in bed? Passionate? Erotic? Down for whatever? They hadn’t made love yet, but remembering their X-rated make-out session in his car last night as they were parked on a secluded area on Highland Drive gave Jackson an instant erection. He desired her more than anything, but he sensed she wasn’t ready to take their relationship to the next level, and Jackson didn’t want to pressure her to have sex. Grace was worth waiting for, and he knew when they finally made love it was going to be incredible. Just like her kisses.

Jackson heard his cell phone chime, read his newest text message and smiled. Chase was checking up on him, and wanted to know how he was doing. Jackson missed his brother and wished he was back from his trip with Amber. If Chase was around he’d have someone to vent to, because talking to Diego was out of the question. His friend was in a sour mood, upset because he was at odds with his wife, and his negativity was depressing. Mariah was ten times worse. Jackson sent Chase a text, then put his cell in his pocket.

His thoughts returned to Freezergate and the heated argument he’d had with his sister that morning. He’d made the mistake of telling Mariah he was romantically interested in Grace, and she’d erupted like Mount St. Helens. She’d threatened to disown him if he hooked up with the competition again, and insisted they summon Chase home for an emergency family meeting.

A week later, Mariah was still giving him the cold shoulder, and the tension inside Lillian’s was stifling his creativity. He had a week to make three speciality cakes, but hadn’t started them yet. Jackson couldn’t get Mariah’s accusations out of his mind, and when he wasn’t reliving their argument he was fantasizing about Grace. Daydreaming about her mouth, her fine feminine shape, squeezing her plump, juicy ass. Tomorrow, after basketball practice, he was going to Lillian’s and he wasn’t leaving until he finished the wedding cakes he’d been commissioned to make.

“Are you inviting Grace to the Heritage Arts and Awards dinner?”

“So Mariah can kill me with her bare hands? No way. I’m flying solo that night.” To please Diego’s wife, Ana Sofia, he’d bought two tickets to the black-tie event, but he didn’t know which of his female friends to invite. Damn, I wish I could take Grace, he thought. He enjoyed her company, knew she’d look great on his arm, but if they went to the awards dinner together the whole world would know they were an item, and Mariah would be pissed if she found out he was romancing the enemy.

Jackson remembered the conversation he’d had with his sister two days earlier in the bakery storage room and felt guilty, knew he’d done wrong. While doing inventory Mariah had asked him point-blank if he was sleeping with Grace, and he’d told her there was nothing gone on. Sweating profusely, he’d swiftly changed the subject, got his sister talking about the new recipes she was working on for the Bite of Seattle festival and fled the room the moment Kelsey walked in, looking for a rolling pin.

“Give it up to the Ballet Misfits for their 220-170 win! Better luck next time, Curvy Crashers,” the announcer said. “And a special thank-you to all the fans who braved the rain to come out and cheer on the home team.”

While the crowd filed out of the stadium, Jackson and Diego finished their beers.

“I’ll be right back. I want to see Grace before she leaves.”

Diego glanced at his watch. “If you’re not back in ten minutes, I’m out of here.”

“What’s the rush? It’s only five o’clock and the boxing match won’t start for hours.”

“Yeah, but if we turn up late the food will be gone and I’m starving.”

Jackson left the stands and walked through the tunnel, searching for Grace. He stood in the hallway, waiting patiently as players streamed out of the locker rooms, but he didn’t see number forty-nine. An Asian woman with dyed red hair and heavy makeup flashed him a salacious smile and he nodded in greeting. “Do you know Grace Nicholas?” he asked, taking his cell out of his pocket to check for missed calls. “Is she still in the changing room?”

“Yeah, the trainer’s looking at her knee. She banged it up pretty bad in the second period, but Shannon’s taking good care of her.”

Jackson took off down the hall, pushed open the door marked Home Team and strode inside. He smelled soap and perfume, noticed the Nike posters on the walls featuring famous female athletes and heard the distant sound of voices.

Entering the showers, he saw Grace and stopped dead in his tracks. She was sitting on a wooden bench, wearing nothing but a black sports bra and boy shorts, clutching her right knee.

“Grace, baby, are you okay?”

Surprise colored her cheeks. “Jackson, what are you doing here?”

“I came to cheer on the home team, of course. You were amazing out there.”

“But the game wasn’t even close. We lost by fifty points,” she argued.

“So? I think you were spectacular tonight, and that’s all that matters.”

“Sir, you have to leave. Fans aren’t allowed in the changing rooms.”

“I’m Grace’s boyfriend. Who are you?”

“The trainer for the Curvy Crashers,” he replied, standing to his full height.

Jackson blinked, regarded the heavyset man in the weathered Reebok sweatsuit that had his name stitched on the top left and swallowed a laugh. He couldn’t believe this big, burly giant with the piercings and tattoos had a female name. “Bro, I got it from here. I’ll take care of my girl.”

The trainer’s face fell and he glanced at Grace with a pleading look. “I’ll take you home.”

“Shannon, I’m fine. Really. It’s a small bruise. No biggie.”

“Are you sure?” he questioned, a frown wedged between his thick, fuzzy unibrow. “The last time you told me you were fine you ended up in the emergency room in excruciating pain.”

“That’s not going to happen on my watch.” Jackson stalked over to the bench, sat down and inspected Grace’s knee. It was bruised, but she stood without difficulty and gave the sour-faced trainer a hug. “I’ll see you at practice next week.”

Shannon shuffled out of the room with his head down and his shoulders bent.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

Jackson was trying to concentrate, but it was hard to focus when Grace was standing in front of him practically naked. God had blessed her in many ways and he admired them all. The large breasts, the flat stomach, thick thighs and long, toned legs. His eyes zeroed in on her silver belly ring and Jackson smiled to himself. What else was she hiding? Did she have another piercing down south? Swallowing hard, he pictured them at his house, doing wicked and salacious things in his bedroom, things that would make a rock star blush—

“Earth to Jackson.”

At the sound of her voice, he blinked and shook the thought from his mind, giving Grace his full attention. “Why didn’t you remind me about your game tonight?”

“Because you think roller derby is a joke and I didn’t want you making fun of me.”

“I’d never do that. You’re strong and powerful and I don’t want you to kick my ass!”

“Damn right, and don’t you forget it.”

Jackson grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down onto his lap. To make her laugh, he screwed his eyes shut and waved a hand in front of his nose. “You stink!”

“Thanks a lot.” Grace stuck out her tongue and gave him a shot on the arm. “You sure know how to make a girl feel good after a heartbreaking loss.”

“Just doing my part, bae.”

Grace linked her hands around his neck and snuggled against him, and Jackson decided there was nothing better than holding her in his arms. “Is forty-nine your favorite number?”

She dropped her gaze to her lap, blew out a deep breath and shook her head.

“What is it?”

“My mom was forty-nine years old when she died.” Tears filled her voice, swam in her eyes, and she swallowed hard. “I wear the number in remembrance of her.”

They sat in silence, didn’t speak, just held each other tight.

“Your mom is gone, but she’s in your heart forever so don’t run from your memories of her, embrace them,” Jackson said in a soothing tone. “I was incredibly close to my grandfather, Oscar, and when he died it felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest...”

Jackson trailed off, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. He hadn’t planned to tell Grace about his grandfather’s death, but he felt compelled to, hoped his words gave her strength.

“You know what helped me heal?”

Grace sniffed, shook her head. “No. What?”

“Doing all the things we loved doing together.”

“Was your grandfather an avid sportsman, too?”

“Yes. I learned everything I know about golf—and women—from him.”

“That explains why you have so many female admirers.”

“Does that bother you?” he asked, studying her face for clues. Grace wasn’t the jealous type, didn’t give off that vibe, but Jackson wanted to know for sure. He didn’t want to upset her and wanted to be upfront about everything. “Would you prefer if I didn’t hang out with my exes?”

“No, of course not. You can do what you want. I have no claims to you.”

Ouch. Her words were a slap in the face and moments passed before he recovered.

“It doesn’t matter what I think. You told Shannon I’m your girlfriend so he wouldn’t kick you out of here, but I’m not.”

“Do you want to be?”

“So you can break my heart?” she quipped, shaking her head. “No, thanks. I’ll pass.”

“Grace, you act like you’re the only one who’s been hurt. I’ve been lied to, cheated on and betrayed.”

“You have? No way. Someone actually cheated on you?”

“Why does that surprise you?”

“Because you’re attractive and successful and smart,” she said. “You can have any woman you want, and you probably have!”

“Not any woman. I don’t have you.”

A seductive grin curled her lips. “Do you want me?”

“Baby, you have no idea.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” she teased, cocking her head. “Let’s do this.”

Her words excited him, caused his erection to harden and strain against his boxer shorts. Jackson kissed her with a savage intensity, mated hungrily with her tongue as it danced around his mouth. He’d never done anything like this before, never had sex in a women’s locker room, but everything about it turned him on. The spontaneity. The excitement. The thrill of getting caught in the act—again.

Grace unbuttoned his shirt, shrugged it down his shoulders then tossed it to the floor as if it was a filthy rag rather than a Kenneth Cole design. Rocking her hips against his crotch, she kissed from his earlobe to his neck and along his shoulders. Grace turned him out with her tongue, licked and sucked his nipples as if she was starving and he was the main course.

Kicking off his shoes, he tightened his hold on her hips and stood to his feet.

“Jackson, what are you doing?” Grace tossed her head back and shrieked with laughter. “If you throw out your back and end up on bed rest, don’t blame me.”

“As long as you’re my sexy nurse, it’s all good.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, her words a breathless pant.

“To get you clean, of course. You’re dirty, remember?”

Realization dawned and her face lit up. “You’re a very bad boy, Jackson Drayson.”

“I know, and you love it.”

“You’re right, baby, I do.” Grace clamped her thighs around his waist and placed kisses along his ear and neck. “Being with you makes me high, gives me a rush...”

Jackson entered the shower stall farthest from the locker room, stripped off the rest of his clothes and turned the water on full blast. Steam rose, filling the air, but there was no mistaking her excitement. It shone in her eyes, covered her face, tickled her lips. “Take off your panties, or I’ll rip them off,” he commanded, setting her down on the ground.

“I like how you think.”

“And I like that ass, so turn around, bend over and touch those pretty pink toes.”