Tackled by Lisa Suzanne

CHAPTER 15

We’re in the car on our way home when Jack thanks me.

“For what?” I ask.

“For everything,” he says, reversing our same conversation in the car after we left the church.

I chuckle. “I’m the one who should be thanking you for doing this with me.”

“I know,” he says softly. “But you know, as much as I resisted having a babysitter at first, I’m starting to get used to having you around. I’m finding that you’re someone I can confide in, and it’s sort of nice to have a friend...even if you’re being paid to be my friend and you’re bound by an NDA.”

“I want you to know that you can confide in me not because of what Calvin is paying me to do but because I genuinely like you. I genuinely want to be here for you.”

“I genuinely like you, too, Kia.”

My heart races. “It’s Kate,” I remind him lightly—not through a clenched jaw like before.

“I know what it is.” His tone is light, too, and it’s a clear message that he’s going to continue calling me by the nickname he’s made up for me.

And we all know the first rule of naming, right? When you name something, it’s harder to let it go.

A few beats of quiet pass between us.

I don’t know why the next words come out of my mouth, but I’m so curious to know more that I can’t help them. “Is your wedding to Michelle being filmed for the Married to the Game premiere?”

“You bet your ass it is. Any time we’re talking about any wedding details at all, we’re being filmed. It’s for the show,” he says, mimicking Michelle for the last sentence. “This’ll make great television.”

My brows dip as a thought occurs to me, and I find myself gripping my purse a little more tightly again—and not just for the swerving he’s doing in and out of traffic. I’m actually sort of starting to get used to that. “Are there cameras for the show in the house?” Brenda mentioned the security and baby monitor ones on my first day, but she didn’t say anything about any other cameras.

“Well, yeah, but not like you’re thinking. Michelle wouldn’t want anyone stealing her thunder, so she’s already made it clear that none of our employees will be filmed. That includes Brooke and Brenda, and I guess you, too. We only discuss wedding details in Michelle’s office, and apart from that room, I wouldn’t allow the show to film inside our home. And I absolutely refuse to allow JJ onto it.”

“You’re really protective over him,” I say. “You’re a good dad.”

He presses his lips together without really taking the compliment. “I do the best I can, but it still never feels like enough.” He clears his throat.

“When do you even talk to Michelle about wedding details?” I ask. “I hardly ever see her around.”

“We meet once a week in her office, but most of our planning was done with some expensive event coordinator and we filmed most of the planning at her office. We talk via text message. Occasionally over the phone. I don’t see her around very often, either.” He doesn’t sound sad about that.

“You don’t love her,” I say flatly. It’s not a question.

He laughs. “No, I don’t. What we share is not love. I don’t even like her.”

He makes this admission mere moments after he told me he does like me. That means something to me. Something big. It takes root in my stomach and almost gives me permission to do something that would be otherwise impermissible. It wouldn’t be right or fair if what they shared was love...but they don’t, and what she’s doing to him isn’t very fair, either.

But it’s her dad paying me to be here. There’s a lot of moral considerations at stake.

“Does she love you?” I ask.

He shrugs. “She loves fame. The spotlight. She loves money. She loves herself.” He pauses. “She loves my brother in her own twisted, convoluted way. That’s about it.”

I just need to get to the bottom of why he feels so strongly that he needs to marry her other than the reasons he’s already given—apart from JJ, apart from Calvin, apart from playing the game he loves so much, apart from this reality show he’s part of now through Michelle.

There’s something else at play.

“Thanks for helping me forget about the shit going down with my company,” he says. “Even if it was just for one night.”

“I helped you forget?” I ask.

“I think you’re helping me in ways I haven’t even begun to uncover yet.” His voice is low and sexy.

My stomach flips again. “I think you are, too,” I whisper.

He pulls into the garage and cuts the engine, and just as I move to get out of the car, he sets his hand on my forearm. My entire arm tingles from the connection. “Kia, wait,” he says.

I turn toward him, my brows raised with a question mark. He gives me a long, lingering gaze, and then he leans his head down a little closer to me. Is he going to kiss me? Or is that all the water I’ve had tonight playing games with my overly active imagination?

His eyes flick to my lips.

This is it.

He’s going to kiss me.

My chest is racing and my knees get all shaky and my head is buzzing.

My eyes move to his lips, too.

I remember what it was like when they were on mine.

God, do I want to kiss him again.

He shakes his head a little. It seems to snap him out of whatever he was thinking.

“What time do we need to leave in the morning?” he finally murmurs.

What? I clear my throat and sit back in my seat, shocked that’s what he asked. It wasn’t at all where I thought he was going.

“Oh, um...I’m meeting the bridesmaids at eight for hair and make-up. Can you meet me at the church by ten-fifteen?”

“Of course,” he says. He squeezes my arm a little where his hand still rests and then he turns and gets out of his side of the car.

“Hey, Jack?”

He stops and turns back toward me.

“You’ll be okay, right?” I ask.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m not supposed to leave you, and we’ll be apart for a couple hours in the morning. You’re not, uh...going to report back to Calvin or whatever, right?”

He presses his lips together. “I won’t report back to Calvin. I’ll be fine.” His tone is robotic, and I’m a little worried I’ve offended him.

But really...my whole reason for being here is actually pretty damn offensive when you really think about it.

I get out my side of the car and follow him into the house, totally unsure about what might come next even though I have a few ideas of what I’m hoping for. Disappointment fills me as he turns toward his office.

“Night, Kia,” he says. “I promise it’s fine for you to go to bed. I’m just catching up on some work, and then I’m going to bed.”

“Goodnight, Jack,” I murmur, and then I head up to my own room.

Alone. Just as it’s supposed to be.