Sweet Obsession: Windy City Kink, Book 1 (8 page)

“Oh! Hey, that’s great,” Eric said with a laugh. “Small world, huh?”

“This is my business partner, Adam Carlisle.” Jack introduced Adam to Eric and Sasha, but never took his eyes off Sasha. Fuck. This was her date? Eric was a good guy, but hell, he was no match for her. Too mild-mannered. Bland.

Sasha looked amazing, of course, dressed in a red turtleneck sweater that hugged her full breasts and slender torso, and skinny dark jeans tucked into sheepskin-lined boots. She held a plastic cup and sipped it, listening as the guys talked about the game.

“I’m surprised you’re not in the suite with your dad,” Jack said to her.

She gave him a cool smile. “Not tonight.”

“Yeah, get us invited to the suite,” Eric said with a grin. “That’d be great.”

Sasha smiled and Jack’s gut cramped at the thought of her dating this guy and seeing him again. How long had they been together? Was this serious?

“Well, we’d better get back to our seats,” Eric said. “Second period’s about to start.”

“Yeah. Good to see you.” Then as Sasha and Eric moved away, Jack said, “Sasha.” She halted and looked over her shoulder at him. Once again, their eyes locked in a magnetic connection. “See you tomorrow. For lunch.”

Eric frowned. Jack smiled. Eric slid his arm around Sasha’s waist and pulled her closer. Sasha scowled at Jack as Eric led her away.

Jack’s smile vanished as he and Adam made their way back to their seats. His insides twisted and he gulped down more of his cold beer.

“That’s the designer you just hired?” Adam said. “Whoa. Dude. Speaking of rideable…”

Jack clenched his jaw. “Did you catch her last name?”

“Eh…Bandel. Is that what you said?” Then his eyebrows flew up into his blond hairline. “
Bandel?
Her father’s suite? Holy shit. Seriously?”

“Serious as a cross site request forgery.”

Adam laughed. “And here I thought Chicago was a big city. Too funny. But I guess using her as an in isn’t an option, since she’s with whatshisname, your realtor guy there.”

“I have no intention of using her,” Jack all but snarled, earning a startled look from Adam. No, his motives were completely different. He slumped down into his seat, knees spread wide, hands holding his beer as the game started, but now he was distracted, thinking about Sasha with Eric.
Fuck
.

She’d said she had a date and he’d almost thought she was lying to avoid having dinner with him, but apparently she’d been telling the truth. He’d just sorted out the issue of her male roommate and now there was another guy in the picture. He scowled and totally missed the Blackhawks scoring another goal, the roar of the crowd and the horn rising around him as he sat there.

“What’s your problem?” Adam asked him during the second intermission. “You sat there and stared into your beer the entire second period.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “I did not.”

“Yeah, dude, you did. What’s up? You worried about work?”

Jack shook his head. “I just need another beer, that’s all.”

Adam gave him a look.

“What?” Jack snapped. “What’s with the mallard mouth?”

“You’re full of shit. But that’s okay. I love you anyway.” He slung an arm around Jack’s neck. “Lemme buy you a beer, buddy. If that’s what you need.”

Jack couldn’t help but watch for Sasha in the crowded concourse area but this time they didn’t run into her. They did run into a couple of girls they’d met the week before at a club, who were happy to talk and flirt for a few minutes until the game started again.

It didn’t matter that he didn’t see Sasha. It didn’t matter that she was with another guy. Because she was coming to his place for lunch tomorrow. And now Eric knew it.

After the Blackhawks crushed the Penguins, he and Adam went for a drink and somehow ended up with the two chicks they’d run into at the game. He wasn’t into either of them but Adam was, so Jack stuck around for a while. It was hilarious how the two girls didn’t know them at all, or know their company, and when they described the business to them, they were all but yawning. And yet Jack knew from experience as soon as they clued in that they were both filthy rich, they’d be all fascinated by Internet security. He and Adam were well-known in the tech industry but not exactly household names, but after this month’s issue of
TechBiz
and the article about thirty entrepreneurs under thirty (he’d made it by a week when they’d interviewed him for the article) and the accompanying photo shoot, they’d be even better known.

“I wanna roll,” he said to Adam hours later. “C’mon.”

“No way, dude,” Adam said. “I’m not leaving. Those girls want to party!”

Then a bunch of guys walked into the nightclub, big guys wearing expensive suits. Jenny and Amber’s attention drifted to them. And kept going back to them. And then the two girls were whispering and sidling up to the group of guys.

“Hockey players,” Adam said with disgust. “Look at that, for fuck’s sake. Surrounded by women.”

“Puck bunnies,” Jack said with a grin.

“What’ve they got that we don’t? We’re both decent looking.”

“Money.”

Adam made a rude noise. “We’ve got money! How much do some of those guys make? A few million bucks a year?”

Jack laughed. “Did you tell those girls how much you make? No. And that was a good thing. They’re obviously shallow and greedy. Now, let’s call it a night.”

Adam sighed, tossed back the rest of his drink and followed him out of the club.

Chapter Six

Sasha arrived at Jack’s building promptly at noon. Nerves fluttered in her stomach as she rode the elevator up to the twenty-eighth floor once again. This time, Jack awaited her in the foyer when the doors slid silently open.

“Sasha.” His greeting was more reserved this time, his expression inscrutable. He again wore faded jeans that sat low on his hips, and a black Henley-style shirt with the sleeves pushed up on his forearms. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” She gave him a tight smile. “Did you enjoy the game last night?”

“Oh yeah. It’s great to be watching my Blackhawks again.”

Her smile relaxed a bit. “You always did love hockey.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I did go to a lot of games in San Jose, but it’s different. Do you go to many games?”

“Not a lot, but I like hockey.”

“I remember trying to teach you about it.” Now the corners of his mouth quirked. “You didn’t have a clue.”

Her smile went crooked. “I know.” She remembered that he’d wanted to play hockey, but after his parents had died, his uncle hadn’t been willing to put the time or money into the sport, and with a squeeze of her heart, she remembered how disappointed he’d been about that.

And that opened the gate for more memories to flood back, of Jack talking about his mom and dad and how much he missed them. He’d been a tough guy on the outside but she knew she’d seen parts of him that probably nobody else had. They’d been dating for about nine months when his parents had died. He’d been pissed about that, angry at the world, short tempered, lashing out, and that had gotten him into trouble a few times.

But he’d never lashed out at her, and her insides went soft and warm remembering how he’d asked her to go to the cemetery with him on Mother’s Day to leave flowers on his mother’s grave, and how he’d fought back tears standing there. And how she’d wrapped her arms around him and they’d held each other for a long time.

Oh hell. She should not be reliving all those soft feelings for Jack. She stiffened her spine and met his gaze with a determinedly professional smile.

“Let me take your jacket,” he said and she set her purse and briefcase on the floor while she unwound her big scarf and slipped her jacket off. She handed it to him, and he hung it in a closet behind a set of sliding doors. “Come on in. Lunch is ready for us.” He led the way to the dining room where she blinked to see the table perfectly set. Although the day was overcast, the room was bright and the view spectacular.

“Did you do this?” she asked, as he pulled out a chair for her.

“Ha. No. My housekeeper set the table. I did order the food though.” He said that with such earnest pride, she couldn’t help but smile.

“You don’t cook?”

One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Of course I cook. But I wanted to serve you something better than macaroni and cheese or canned chili.”

She tried to resist the smile tugging at her own mouth. “I appreciate that. Although I do remember that you used to be pretty good at making hot dogs too.”

“Actually…” he grinned, “…that’s what we’re having. But I didn’t make them.”

“Hot dogs?” She stared at him open-mouthed.

He carried an insulated bag over to the table and opened it up. “Yep. From Hawt Dawgs.”

When he opened the bag, the seductive aroma of smoked sausage and yeasty buns filled the air. “Oh my God.” She moaned. “I haven’t had one of those in ages.”

“Good. Got fries too. Hope you’re not on a diet.”

“Do I need to be?”

His head jerked up and he met her eyes. “No! Not at all! That wasn’t what I meant.”

She laughed. “I’m just kidding.”

The horror in his eyes was replaced by wry amusement. “God, I thought I’d put my foot in it there.” And then his eyes went warm and his gaze swept over her in a hot brush of erotic perusal that made her nipples tighten and tingle. And with that, the power balance shifted. “No, Sasha, you definitely don’t need to diet.”

He took his own chair, not opposite the table but kitty-corner to her. As he sat, his knee brushed hers, his legs so long. He pulled out wrapped hot dogs and handed one to her, which she set on the china plate in front of her. He handed her a container of French fries and they began to eat.

“These are so messy,” she said, picking up her hot dog loaded with yellow mustard, relish, onions, tomato wedges, a pickle spear and peppers, all spilling from a steamed poppy seed bun.

“That’s okay. It’s just you and me.”

Yes. It was just them. She was well aware of that.

Music played somewhere, through speakers she couldn’t see, the kind of bluesy music that she loved.

“I used to take clients to hockey games in San Jose,” he said between bites. “We had a suite and it was fun to take people there. Your dad still has a suite here, doesn’t he?”

“Well, it’s not his, but yeah, the bank does.”

“How long have you been seeing Eric?”

Oh yeah. She looked down at the food in her hands. “He sold you this condo, huh? That’s funny.”

“How long?”

She met his eyes, giving him what she hoped was a none-of-your-business look. She held his gaze for about six seconds and then, “That was our second date,” somehow slipped out of her mouth.

He nodded. “Are you going to see him again?”

“If he asks me.” She said it as a joke. She knew Eric wanted to see her again. She wasn’t quite as sure if she wanted to go out with him, but she didn’t have any good reason not to. He was a nice guy, polite, well-groomed, successful career. Not much of a sense of humor, but there were worse things. Way worse.

Jack grunted and it sounded as if he was displeased. She picked up a French fry and bit it.

“He said you needed business.”

Her eyes flew open wide again and she stared at him. “He did?”

“Yeah.”

Her mind scrambled for an answer. She didn’t want Jack to know how much she needed him. “I’m always looking for business. That’s what you do. You should know that, a successful entrepreneur like you.”

“True.” He nodded.

“Why did you move your business to Chicago?”

He chewed his food and it took a moment for him to answer. “I wanted to come home,” he said simply.

“Why did you leave?” Shatner. She shouldn’t have asked that. It didn’t matter to her why he’d left.

He gave her a long look. “You have to ask me that?”

“Never mind.” She knew her parents had freaked out and had kept Jack from seeing her, but he didn’t have to run so far away. He’d made it too easy for them, when she’d been broken-hearted and humiliated. Like star-crossed lovers, she’d had some juvenile romantic fantasy that they’d be together despite the wishes of her parents, but as time had passed, that had turned into anger at Jack for giving up on her so easily, for giving up on them, for running away, and even anger at him for wanting to do the things they’d done, the things they’d been caught doing, that had so shocked her parents and embarrassed her.

“I guess you managed to finish high school even though you ran away,” she said. “Your bio online says you have a degree in computer science.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “You read my bio?”

Damn! “Of course.” She tossed her hair back. “You’re a prospective client.”

“I don’t think you need to do a background check on clients.”

“You’d be surprised,” she said. “My last big client ended up in the slammer.”

“What?”

She told him about Eckhart and the Cangelo case, which of course he’d heard of—it had been a national news story, but he hadn’t known Eckhart had been one of her clients. She did
not
mention that she’d never been paid a dime for the job and the impact on her business.