Chapter 26

Alicia

At almost five on Friday, the Synergy ladies’ room had that empty, end-of-the-day feeling. The primpers were gone, already settling in at happy hour. Those who had families had slipped out with the rest, eager to get back to their loved ones. I should’ve been among them.

I propped my foot on the arm of the sofa to tie my sneaker. How had I let him talk me into this?

I knew exactly how. I was falling for Jackson Jones. Between his coding-smarts, the kindness he tried to hide with his outrageous bluster, and the moral support he’d provided in the conference with Mrs. O’Reilly, he’d broken through every defense I’d put up, and now I couldn’t help but hope he’d really stay in Austin like he said he would, and we’d take our friendship to the next level. The one that involved not only more helpful advice about Noah and more envisioned possibilities for Jackson beyond coding, but also more kissing. Because although Jackson Jones might be the greatest programmer I’d ever met, he was an even better kisser.

My cheeks flamed. I pulled a baseball cap out of my bag and tugged it over my hair, which I’d taken out of its bun and braided. The bill hid some of the blush. But it was getting late, and I couldn’t wait for it to fully fade.

I pushed out the bathroom door and came up against a hard chest wearing a Pantera T-shirt. Jackson hadn’t had to change clothes for this.

“Ready?” he asked, bouncing on his toes.

“Yeah. Let me stow this at my desk.” I held up the tote.

He took it from me. “I don’t want you to get distracted by your laptop. They might go early tonight.” He pounded across the wood floor to our workspace and jogged back. “Let’s go.”

I couldn’t repress my smile. “You’re just as bad as Noah.”

He started toward the stairs, and I fell into step beside him. “Have you taken him to see them?”

“Not specifically. We’ve been on the trail once or twice when it happened. Going to see them on purpose is kind of a tourist thing.” I bit my lip. I hadn’t meant it to come out so condescending.

“No one will believe I was in Austin if I say I never saw the bats. Are we going to make it in time? What about traffic?”

“We’re walking. We’re ten minutes from a prime viewing spot.”

“Ten?” He glanced at his phone. “The sun sets in twenty-five minutes.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like me.” In sneakers, our footsteps were silent in the empty lobby. “If only you’d be this concerned about project deadlines.”

“I am concerned about project deadlines.” He held the door for me, and I stepped out into the late-afternoon sunshine. “I’m concerned that they take our focus off what’s really important, which is the quality of the code. My name is on the company website. Every line is my reputation.”

I nudged him toward the crosswalk. “I guess I never thought of it that way. Still, without deadlines, we’d never release anything. We’d spend the rest of our careers perfecting it.”

He grinned. “You get it!”

Shaking my head, I zipped up my jacket.

“You cold?” He wasn’t wearing a jacket.

“It’s a little nippy, don’t you think?”

He gripped my hand and veered out into the street, weaving among the traffic-stopped cars. “This is the most comfortable I’ve felt since I stepped off the plane from San Francisco. It’s perfect.”

The lakeside trail was easy to find, and we followed it until it broke out from behind the trees to give us an unobstructed view of the water and the Congress Avenue bridge. It wasn’t tourist season, and it was getting too cold for locals, but clumps of people were silhouetted on the bridge against the setting sun. We stepped off the trail toward the water until the ground started to soften under my sneakers.

“That’s where they come out?” Jackson pointed at the bridge.

“Yeah, but they’re less reliable this time of year. They’ve already started to migrate. Don’t be too disappointed if they don’t emerge at all, okay?” Though I’d hate it if my hometown disappointed him. Don’t let us down, bats.

“Is that one?” He pointed overhead at a dark shape against the thin, pink clouds.

“That’s a hawk. The bats are tiny. They brought some into my school once. They fit in a kid’s palm.”

“Ah.” He stared out over the water toward the bridge.

I knew we had a few minutes, so I let my gaze wander across the trail. A pair of bikers whizzed by, then a woman pushing a jogging stroller. It was a popular spot for bikers and runners. In fact, I’d have been surprised if Jackson hadn’t jogged down here himself. His apartment complex was close to an access point to the trail. Rick had told me he often ran here, and sometimes he biked to work along the trail.

As if the thought had conjured him, a familiar rangy form emerged from the trees. I gasped. “Rick!”

He did a double-take and stopped, panting. “Alicia.” Then he tensed. “Jay.” He had a greenish spot on his jaw, which he rubbed against his shoulder.

Jackson spun away from the water and stepped in front of me. “Rick.” He seemed to expand until I couldn’t even see my ex. I peered around Jackson’s arm.

“Nice night for a jog.” Rick used his forearm to wipe sweat from his brow.

“I guess so.” Jackson’s voice was hard like I’d never heard it. His ever-present sense of humor had fled.

“Hey, Alicia, how’s—”

“Shouldn’t you move along? Don’t want those muscles to lock up. You might trip and fall.” Jackson crossed his arms.

Rick ripped his gaze from me to Jackson. “Right. See you.” He sprinted away.

I laid a palm on Jackson’s rock-hard biceps. “What was that all about?”

He relaxed, but his eyebrows almost met in the middle. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Rick hadn’t stuck around long enough to say anything obnoxious. Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen him in a while, not even at the end-of-season pizza party for Noah’s team. I’d dreaded his making a surprise appearance. Had Jackson had something to do with it?

When I looked up to ask him about it, I saw a speck swoop across the sky. “They’ve started.”

He whirled away from the trail and gazed across the water, sparkling in silver and rose-gold from the setting sun. The sun kissed the horizon, sending up its final citrus-colored salvo. Above us, the sky had gone a pale blue.

From beneath the bridge, millions of tiny creatures streamed into the sunset sky. They swooped into an S shape, then spread out, then looped back toward the bridge, spreading into a stippled cloud. One moment, they were a flock of birds, wheeling together, and the next, they diffused into the sky, searching out their insect meals.

As one group of them fluttered overhead, their clicks and cheeps drowned out the traffic on the streets nearby. Jackson held up his phone to capture it. I stood still, trying to discern patterns in their flight.

At last, they dispersed, though the occasional bat flapped overhead in search of its dinner.

“That was amazing.” Jackson still stared into the sky. A star or planet winked bright in the darkening blue.

“It was, even for a jaded local like me.”

He tore his gaze from the sky. “Thanks for bringing me on my tacky-tourist quest.”

I smiled, though he probably couldn’t see it in the dark. “That’s what friends do.”

He stepped closer. “Aren’t we more than friends?”

“Not until the project’s over.” I crossed my arms.

Jackson rested his hands on my shoulders and slowly rubbed them up and down my biceps, warming my chilled arms. “Not long now.”

“One more week.”

“And then?” His thumb brushed over the top of my breast, and even through my jacket and my shirt, his touch sent an electric current straight down between my legs. My sex clenched. Without thinking about it, I shuffled closer so that our sneakers bracketed each other. Our knees and hips bumped together, and I leaned my chest against his, chasing the sensation.

“I guess it depends,” I murmured.

“On what?” He dipped his head closer until I felt his warm breath on my cheek.

“On whether you’re staying in town or going home.”

“Home? Home is here. With you.” He touched his lips to mine, and in the dark, with the pink fading into purple in the star-dotted sky, a flame ignited inside me. If I could’ve opened my eyes, I’d have expected my fingers to glow against his chest. The bats and the roosting birds made soft music around us.

Jackson had taken my hometown and made it more. He’d brightened the sunset, added an extra twang to the honky-tonk music, and made me feel alive at work the way I’d never felt before.

And he was staying. When the project ended, a week from Monday, I’d keep the new-and-Jackson-improved Austin.

“Alicia,” he muttered, kissing across my cheek to my ear, “I can hear you overthinking. Let go. Enjoy the moment.” And then he found a place on my neck that lit me up like the neon signs on Sixth Street. I curled my hands behind his neck and hung on for my life as he nosed lower to my jacket collar and then back up and found my lips again.

We sipped, we tasted, we devoured each other. When I swiveled my hips against his, the steely ridge of his erection rubbed promises against my belly.

He tipped his forehead against mine, breathing hard. “One week.”

Damn. If he hadn’t pulled away, I’d have dragged him off into the bushes. I sighed. “One week.”

He dipped down and picked up my ball cap, which had fallen off at some point, probably when I’d tried to dry-hump him in a public park. He placed it on my head backward and then kissed me gently on the temple. “Maybe after the project’s over, you’ll show me the Alamo?”

“Remember, it’s in San Antonio. Ninety minutes each way.”

“We’d have to stay overnight, I think.” One corner of his mouth kicked up.

A hotel room. And Jackson Jones. I shivered, though I wasn’t cold anymore. “Okay.”

“Promise?” Just like tonight, he’d be excited as a little boy.

“Promise.”

“It’s still early. Want to go to dinner?”

“Might as well. I know a great place for tacos.”

He grinned. “Of course you do. Let’s go.”

Placing my hand in his, I led him back onto the trail and toward the bright lights of downtown.

“Hey.”

The following Friday, Jackson’s voice startled me. I glanced up from the code I was checking. He held a red plastic cup, and the sharp scent of hops curled into my nose.

“Party was a dud?” I asked.

He smiled. “Yeah. You weren’t there. So I brought the party to you.” He plunked the cup onto the desk beside me.

“That’s sweet, but I—” I waved at the screen. I was not going to screw up what I hoped was our final demo to Cooper Fallon. I was scanning every line of code, even after it’d passed the automated testing process. Leave it to Cooper to perform a key sequence the quality assurance process didn’t test.

“You know what they say about all work and no play.”

“You mean that it makes for a flawless demo?”

He scrunched his eyebrows together. “Not what I had in mind.” He reached out and hovered his hand an inch from my shoulder. “May I?”

I looked around. The floor was deserted. Not even a key clicked on the other side of the row of potted trees. “I guess?”

He squeezed the muscles that connected my neck to my shoulder and then dug in with his fingers. “This okay?”

I groaned. It. Was. Heaven.

“You’ve got to relax your shoulders while you’re typing. You carry all this stress in your neck.”

I hung my head to give him better access. “I carry a lot of stress, period. Less talking. More neck massage.”

“Yes, ma’am.” There was a smile in his voice. He stepped behind my chair and put both hands on me, rubbing my shoulders. The muscles loosened under the pressure and the warmth of his hands.

I lifted my head to resume my review of the code, but it was no use. The letters and numbers swam together on the screen. His thumbs wandered to either side of my spine, between my shoulder blades. Magical.

“I’m going to put one hand in front of your shoulder and use the heel of my hand to—”

But the second he put his big hand below my collarbone, his sneaky little finger caressing the upper slope of my breast, I rolled back my chair, bumping into his boot, and stood.

“Ow! Why’d you—”

“Not here,” I whispered. I was standing too close to him. So close, I felt the heat of his body. My nerves still tingled from his touch and cried out for more. In my heels, I was eye-level to his lips. Those soft, pink lips I’d kissed last week on the shore of Lady Bird Lake. All I wanted to do was reacquaint myself with them.

His lips parted. “Where, then?”

I turned and strode to the main hallway. Not sensing him behind me, I turned. I beckoned toward myself. Come here, I mouthed.

He blinked and jogged to catch up.

I turned left into the smaller hall with the restrooms. When I pushed open the door to the ladies’ room, the motion-sensing lights flicked on. I reached out and tugged Jackson in behind me, then I flipped the bolt on the door.

He looked around. “Hey, we don’t have a couch in—”

Pushing him against the door, I rose up on my toes. “Less talking, more kissing.” I pressed my lips to his.

After a second of shocked stillness, Jackson’s arms came around me, and his lips softened under mine. Like we’d kissed at his place on Halloween, but more. The tang of beer on his tongue. The leather and pine on his skin. The roughness of his beard chafing my cheeks and my nose. Plus the heightened sense of urgency because we were kissing at work where someone might bang on the door any minute. I gripped a double handful of his T-shirt. What was the band today? Didn’t matter. All that mattered was the slide of his tongue against mine, the press of his solid chest into my hard nipples, the tingles that told me my panties wouldn’t be dry for long.

He broke from the kiss to run his lips down my neck and bury his nose in my collar. “Fuck, Alicia, I—I want to pick you up and carry you over to that couch.” His thumb flicked open the top button of my blouse, and he nosed deeper into my cleavage, his beard scratching the swell of my breast over my bra. “I want to tug up your skirt, rip off whatever you’re wearing underneath, and taste you.” He flicked his tongue over my skin, and my knees went weak.

Yes yes yes. My brain had become a cheering section for Jackson Jones’s dirty talk. He wouldn’t have to pick me up. I’d sprint over there willingly, sprawl over the couch, and let him rip away.

“But.” He dropped a closed-mouth kiss in the shallow valley between my breasts and then fastened the button he’d loosened. “I’m not tasting you for the first time in the ladies’ room.”

“You’re—you’re not?” The cheers inside me turned to boos.

“No, baby.”

The last thing I needed was for him to call me baby in Monday’s code review. “Don’t—”

He put a finger over my lips, and then he kissed the corner of my mouth. “You’re not some bathroom hook-up. I want more.” He rubbed his thumb under my lower lip. His own lips were stained the same pink as my lipstick. “You deserve more. All night.”

The throb between my legs repeated it. All night all night all night.

“Promise?”

He kissed me one last time, a closed-mouth brush of his lips. “Promise.”

I tried to straighten up my kiss-slacked mouth. “I’ll hold you to it, Jones. After we finish the project.”

“After we finish the project.” His hands caressed my hips and then dropped to his sides. “That code is fucking perfect. Check it back in and go home.”

He was right. It was done, and the last thing we needed was for someone—me—to inadvertently introduce a new bug. “No touching it over the weekend, right, cowboy?”

“Not the code. I can guarantee I’ll be touching something else.” He shifted his hips, and a ridge pressed into my belly.

An inch or two lower, and I could’ve rubbed against him. It’d probably take less than a minute to get myself off. Maybe to get us both off. But he was right. We were at work. Assuming the demo went well, the project would end on Monday. And we’d no longer be coworkers. We’d be free to touch wherever we wanted.

“Save some for me.” I winked.

His eyes went wide, and then they flicked to the couch. “On second thought—”

Quick as a rattlesnake, I unbolted the door and pulled it open. “See you Monday,” I called over my shoulder, laughing as I trotted back to our desk. Even Jackson Jones wasn’t bold enough to walk through the office with a hard-on in his tight jeans. And I was out the door before he returned to our workspace.