Jacqueline's Desire

Jacqueline's Desire

E Kelly

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 E Kelly

This book is available in print at most online retailers.

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Chapter 1

Jac stood in the heat of the shower, letting the water pour over her unheeded. Letting it wash away the last remnants of pain and disappointment. Of betrayal. She braced her hands against the cool tiles, closed her eyes, and let her mind drift.

Jackson Andrew Hughes. He had been the dad of every little girl’s dreams. Strong, funny, intelligent, and passionate. Jac still smiled every time she thought of him. Still felt him on every job. Three years. Three long years since her mom called her unexpectedly to tell her he was gone. Jac had buried the hurt and spent every minute of those years trying to convince her father’s crew that she could successfully lead them. Being young, pretty, and female in construction were almost impossible obstacles to overcome. But she had not only succeeded, she had triumphed. Ushering the struggling company firmly into the black. A small, brief smile touched Jac’s lips as she thought of how far she’d come. To lose it all now, would be unbearable. The job, the company, her father’s reputation - these were the things most precious to her. The same things that were now in jeopardy. Someone was sabotaging her construction site. Weakening the stairs… Stealing supplies… Canceling orders. No, not someone, she corrected. A member of her own crew. One of the men Jac depended on, respected, and trusted. Last night, it had been too much for her to accept. That’s when she had come home, shut the door, and locked it out for a while. Then, and only then, had she allowed herself to feel. Allowed herself to grieve.

Wade’s eyes opened in the predawn half-light, alert and observing. One glance had him moving to the window, indifferent to his own nudity, drawn in by the sight of the rising sun. At six feet three, with dark hair and eyes, and a body forged from years of military service, there was something about him that captured people’s attention. And held it. Born Wade Beauregard Mitchell, the first son of a wealthy construction industrialist, his SEAL team renamed him Poet. They saw in him a certain eloquence of expression, strength of character, and unwavering honesty. That, added to Wade’s expansive knowledge of literature and his soft, southern drawl, and the name stuck. As he watched, the sky burned orange, and his phone began to ring.

Poet. Wade listened, respectfully and quietly, to Einstein’s voice on the line. Even after two years of civilian life, his friend was still, somehow, the team leader. Understood, was Wade’s only comment as Einstein outlined his assignment. Before he disconnected though, he dropped formality for a moment. Hey, Einstein. Could you give Bronwyn a message for me? Tell her it’s not too late. If she wants to reconsider marrying you, I’m available.

Fuck you, Einstein laughed. Wade was smiling as he disconnected and headed to the shower.

Less than an hour later, he was the first to arrive at the site. Wade lingered in his truck for a moment as he studied the building. It didn't look like much yet, with its sagging balcony, rotting porch and broken windows, but he knew Einstein and Bronwyn had big plans – a new bookstore. Bronwyn lost her first store to an arsonist a few months earlier. But with this new building, Anna's designs and Jac's crew, what was lost would be reborn. And the horrible event that brought the team and Bronwyn together would finally have its happy ending. Wade could see it now. Complete. Alive. And whole. He smiled softly to himself... until he remembered his assignment. Shaking off sentimentality, he shed the man. Donned the soldier. Wade checked the perimeter of the building first, before moving inside. Room by room, floor by floor he looked for any evidence of an intruder. When he was satisfied that he had missed nothing, he went back outside to wait on the porch. He was sitting, sipping his coffee when she pulled up in her truck. Wade watched her as she parked and climbed out. Dressed in jeans and a white tank top, Jacqueline Hughes was extraordinary. Wade couldn’t help but remember the first time they’d met. It had been here, at Dénouement actually, the day Anna Davis had first pitched her designs to Einstein and Bronwyn. Jac had popped in to get a peek and introduce herself to everyone. Wade would never forget that first touch, her hand in his; how the warmth of her skin had radiated up his arm; how he’d actually felt the power of her smile. He’d never experienced anything like it. Recognizing that first day, that he would have to pursue her. And now, with the help of fate, it was time to begin.

Good morning, Jac called out as she approached.

Wade remained silent, caught up in the way she moved, both strength and grace in every step. With short red hair, pale skin, and expressive blue eyes, she stole his breath.

You’re here early. Did Einstein call you?

Yeah. He nodded and sipped. I’ve already checked the building. Inside and out. There’s been no sign of an intruder.

Thanks, she murmured as she stepped onto the porch. I really appreciate what you’re doing. I know this isn’t your problem, but…

Wade cut her off with just a look. This guy, whoever he is, hurt Anna. He could have hurt you as well. That’s reason enough for me.

Unsure what to say to that, Jac hesitated. Well, I just wanted you to know that I appreciate it.

Wade smiled. You’re welcome then. Because his hands ached to touch her, he turned to pick up his thermos and tool belt instead. Ready when you are, he offered.

She smiled, not knowing how it affected him. Why don’t we go inside and you can tell me about your work experience. If you’re supposed to pass for a construction worker while you try and identify the villain of our particular little tale, I need to know what kind of projects you can handle.

Wade raised one derisive brow. I can handle anything you can dish out, sweetheart. That’s a promise.

That remains to be seen. Doesn’t it?

He laughed, charmed by her, until he noticed something in her eyes. That something pulled at him. Had him reaching out to stop her from turning away. With his hand on her chin, Wade searched. It’s not your fault, he finally whispered. You’re not to blame.

Jac closed her eyes on the pain as tears threatened. He worked for me, Wade. No one else. That makes me responsible for what happened to Anna. She could still see it whenever she closed her eyes - Anna, the designer for the project and her closest friend, tumbling down the stairs. Jac had tried to catch her, but it all happened too fast. Then there had been the rush to the hospital and the horribly stressful time spent in the waiting room. A broken wrist and bruises on her hip and ribs. Jac still winced when she thought about it.

This is not your fault, Wade hissed. The only one that’s to blame is the bastard who loosened the tread on the stairs. He’s responsible for her fall. Not you. You cannot blame yourself, he insisted. Anna certainly doesn’t.

She’s not being rational.

And neither are you. If the situation was reversed, would you blame Anna? He didn’t wait for her answer. Of course you wouldn’t. Wade leaned in close. Why don’t you save that anger for the man who’s really at fault?

I’m trying, she whispered desperately.

Try harder. With that said, Wade turned and walked inside, moving through the lobby, turning right into the front parlor. He remembered how neglected and shabby the room had looked on their walkthrough weeks ago. He could only stand and stare now - fresh paint, gleaming hardwood floors, crystal chandeliers, and row after row of custom bookshelves. This is absolutely amazing, he announced quietly as Jac joined him.

She smiled. Thanks. I love working with Anna. Her designs are remarkable. Truly extraordinary.

Yeah. I’ve seen Preacher’s place. Dark wood, masculine colors, and a solid vein of Dakota. It’s a perfect reflection of him. And this? He gestured widely. Every inch of this is Bronwyn. Understated elegance and warmth.

Jac studied him for a moment, curious. You must know her well.

His eyes met hers, held. She saw something flash sharp and bright before he looked away. Yes. I know Bronwyn well, he finally whispered.

Afraid that she might have struck a nerve, Jac hurried to change the subject. Have you seen Anna’s plans for the children’s room?

No.

You should. They’re… enchanting. Like stepping into a storybook, Jac explained. We’ll be starting on the shelves for that room today. As well as the trim in the master bedroom and bath.

Sounds good. I can handle pretty much all of that. It’s been a while since I’ve done detailed cut work but I think I can manage trim.

Actually, I think we’ll start you out slowly. How’s painting sound?

Sounds great, he lied.

Good. Now before the guys get here, can we go over your cover story again?

Of course. But I think I should be up front about something. The cover story was Einstein’s brainchild. I thought it would just be simpler if you and I said we were involved.

Oh, did you? Wade nodded, smiling cheekily. While I appreciate your… creativity, Jac teased, The crew knows that I don’t get involved with men I work with. Conflict of interest, so to speak.

Maybe you made an exception, he suggested.

Nope. No exceptions.

Wade considered arguing that maybe it was time for one, but rejected the idea. At least for now. Einstein’s story it is then. We’ll keep it simple. My name is Wade Mitchell and I’m Einstein’s friend from college. I recently lost my job as a security consultant, the economy being what it is, so he asked if you’d do him this favor and hire me until I can get back on my feet.

Sounds plausible.

Close enough to the truth that it rings true. The hallmark of being a good cover story. I can elaborate appropriately if any of the crew asks me questions, but I think we should keep the initial story short.

I agree. If the story were true, I wouldn't have asked Einstein many questions anyway. I would have hired you simply because he asked. Just then, they heard a car door slam. That will be the guys. Do you mind hanging back until I brief them? Then I’ll introduce you and we’ll get set up for the day.

Sure. No problem. He paused. But I need a favor from you in return.

Okay.

I need you to remember something. What you thought you knew about one of these men isn’t true anymore. He is not your friend. He is not here to help you.

Jac grimaced. I’m not likely to forget.

Wade nodded. I wish I could spare you that. The most I can do is identify him as quickly and quietly as possible.

Quietly?

Shit. If there’s a chance that he’s not working alone, I don’t want to alert his accomplice.

Not working…? Jesus! Jac hissed. It never occurred to me that there might be more than one of them.

That’s my job, Wade insisted. You and Anna just keep working to bring this old place back to life. I’ll handle the rest. And I’ll keep you safe. He reached out and lightly touched her cheek. I will not let him hurt you.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Jac smiled shyly. Um. Thanks.

My pleasure, Wade whispered. His hand shifted to cup her face.

Jac swallowed hard. I should probably go meet the guys.

Yeah. You probably should. He stepped toward her just as she stepped back. Without another word, she turned and hurried from the room.

Wade watched the crew through the window. Scrutinizing their body language and facial expressions, he looked for any sign that would identify the traitor. He wished he had Preacher with him. The man had a gift for seeing and hearing what people tried to hide. On his own, Wade found nothing, so he left his place by the window to wait in the foyer. It wouldn’t do for any of the men to suspect that he’d been watching them. If he was going to find the truth, they needed to trust him.

Two hours later, Wade didn’t give a flying fuck about trust. He was outside, in the blazing sun, dressed in coveralls, safety glasses, gloves, and a respirator. When Jac said he’d be doing some painting, he hadn’t realized he’d be spraying bookshelves in hell. Christ, it was hot! And like some bad joke, no matter how many shelves he painted, fresh ones just kept coming. About thirty minutes in, Wade began to suspect that the crew was testing him. But if that were true, and they were waiting for him to surrender to the heat, they were going to be disappointed. He checked his watch for what must have been the tenth time this morning and, seeing that it was finally past noon, decided to break for lunch. Stripping the coveralls to his waist, he removed the glasses, gloves, and respirator before grabbing a bottle of water. As Wade drank, his mind drifted back to a summer construction job he’d had in his teens. Savannah had been suffering one of the worst heat waves ever recorded in the state of Georgia, with every day in the sun a little slice of hell. While his crew had bitched and moaned incessantly, there had been a part of Wade that loved it. Loved pushing himself to his limits. Still lost in thought, he took another sip of water, grimacing at the taste.

Something wrong with the water? Jac asked as she crossed the yard to join him.

Wade smiled. God, she was beautiful in the sunshine. Just wishing it was iced tea.

Well, if you do a good job, maybe I can get you that tea.

Don’t tease me, Jacqueline. Southerners take their iced tea very seriously.

I’ll keep that in mind. She stepped closer to examine his work. These look good. You’re meticulous and fast, both of which I appreciate. She stepped even closer, lowering her voice. You do know they were testing you? Right?

Yes. Wade bent to peel the coveralls down the rest of his body.

And you didn’t call them on it? Didn’t tell them to go to hell?

No.

Why not? she asked incredulously. If someone kept me out here in one of those suits for more than thirty minutes, I’d be complaining to anyone who would listen.

We both know that isn’t true. You and I are the same that way. We don’t whine and we don’t break.

Well, you’ve earned their respect. That’s for sure. Just make sure you don’t go so far that they think you’re a pushover, she warned.

Wade raised one eyebrow at her. Do I strike you as a pushover?

Jac took the time to study him before she answered. His t-shirt clung, outlining every muscle in his chest and abs. The sleeves were stretched tightly across his biceps. One hundred seventy pounds of well-executed male. She took a shaky breath. No. Definitely not a pushover, she stammered. His eyes flashed, causing her to look away. You have a tattoo, she mumbled at random.

Yes. Wade smiled as he moved a little closer. Unless he missed his guess, he was making her nervous.

Einstein and Preacher have the same one. Right? Something to do with being SEALs together.

The Navy SEAL trident. Yes. We all have one, including Hollywood and Caveman, he clarified, referring to the rest of the team, as he stepped even closer.

Um. Jac bent, pretending to examine the shelves. Think girl. Get a grip on your hormones and think! Oh. I met them the day Anna pitched the designs. Right?

Suspecting she was trying to maintain her distance, Wade intentionally crouched beside her. Yeah. We all got the trident when we resigned our commissions. He smiled at the memory. Pissed my mama off for months. She still scowls every time she sees it.

Jac smiled. I take it your mother is not a fan.

No. Tattoos are not for gentlemen, he mimicked.

Jac laughed at that. Loud, throaty, and sexy. Wade felt it shimmer across his skin. I can only imagine what she’d think of me.

Why? Do you have a tattoo?

I’m afraid so.

Can I see it? he asked as they both stood.

Jac paused, as if considering. Wade’s heart began to race. Slowly she shook her head. I’m afraid that comes under the category of privileged information. As she turned to head back inside, Wade fell in step beside her.

Can I tempt you? he whispered huskily. I’m very good at tempting women.

That remains to be seen, now doesn’t it? Jac countered. With a teasing grin, she stepped inside, leaving Wade to follow.

She had ordered pizza for the crew. Everyone was spread out in one of the unfinished rooms. Better grab some before these guys eat it all, she suggested. Taking her own advice, she selected a couple of mushroom and pepperoni, lifted a small jug from the cooler, and chose a spot on the floor away from the men. Grab a couple of those paper cups, she called out to Wade.

Here you go, he offered as he settled in next to her. You don’t eat with the men? he asked quietly.

Not unless I’m invited. Jac shrugged. Everybody needs the time and space to bitch about the boss. I can respect that. She filled one of the cups from the jug and handed it to him. As promised.

Puzzled, Wade took the drink and sipped. Sweet iced tea. Nectar of the gods.

Jac laughed. If you’d like, I can bring a large jug every day. Leave it in the cooler. You could help yourself.

So you know my secret, he confessed. The way to my heart is through tea.

Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not interested in your heart. Just your hands.

Wade smiled. I’d say that’s an excellent place to start.

The rest of lunch passed quickly. Wade enjoyed his time with Jac, sitting close, listening to her voice and her laugh. When the meal was over, he was loathed to leave her. As he started to head outside, Carl, Jac’s project manager grabbed him by the arm.

You’re done for the day, he insisted.

Excuse me?

You’re done working out in the heat today.