Knocked Up By the Jerk by Loni Ree
Livie
I reclinemy seat back and attempt to close my eyes. I’m sitting between my parents on this packed flight, and I can’t believe I freaking forgot my earphones. I’m paying for that little oversight as I listen to my dad’s snore fill the airplane cabin. I hear my mother flipping through the wedding magazine in her lap, and unease settles into my soul.
I’m not sure how I’ll manage to hide my emotions for the next several days. Unwanted memories force their way into my mind, and I’m unable to control the desire flowing through me. I had no idea visiting my sister would lead to my world turning upside down.
My twin sense warned me that Bridgett was having intense feelings for her new guy. Out of love for her, I was willing to give him a chance. The shock came when Fletcher asked his best friend to pick me up from the airport. After a long, bumpy flight, I discovered my ride was late. I was getting more frustrated by the second until the big jerk showed up. He blamed me for his tardiness, then proceeded to bark orders at me. My dumb girly parts didn't care if he was the biggest asshole in the world. They were panting for the hot police chief. By the time we pulled up at my sister’s house, I was ready to either strangle him or jump his bones. My confused state continued the entire visit, and I was happy when it came time to head home. I assured myself distance would cure these insane feelings. Only, I was wrong.
Over the last two months, dreams of the jerk’s big, muscular body have filled my nights with torture. Behind my closed eyelids, I envision the hunger flashing in his dark blue eyes. When Mason made it abundantly clear he hated the chemistry coursing between us, my unprotected heart shattered. I’ve had two months to prepare myself for seeing him again. I’m determined to make it through my sister’s wedding, and then I’ll forget about the big jerk.
I breathe a sigh of relief when Bridgett and Fletcher pick us up from the airport. Part of me is disappointed, but I remind myself that the less I see Mason, the easier this will be.
My luck holds for the next couple of days. We’re so busy with last-minute wedding preparations, I manage to avoid Mason. My reprieve will end tonight at the rehearsal dinner. I’ll have to put on a brave face and bury my inconvenient feelings deep in my soul. Wanting him is bad enough, but letting the jerk know how much he affects me would be devastating.
I’m finishing up my make-up when Bridgett comes floating into the room. I swear her feet haven’t touched the ground since Fletcher proposed. “Mom and Dad want me and Fletcher to ride with them tonight.” Dread pierces my soul as I stare in the mirror at my sister. Please, God, don’t let that mean what I think it does. “Mason will pick you up on his way to the restaurant.”
The universe has it in for me. Totally. How am I going to survive the night ahead?
After they leave, I pace the living room, trying to calm my racing heart. I hear a car drive up and my stomach clenches. It’s show time. I rush out the door before Mason can knock. I’m unable to control my wandering eyes as they move over his gorgeous body. Last time I visited, he either wore his work uniform or jeans and a t-shirt. Nothing could prepare me for this. His bright white button-down shirt stretches across his massive chest, and he’s left the top button undone, giving me a peek at his tanned skin. Mason’s signature messy, windblown look is gone. His perfectly styled light blond hair calls to me, and I barely resist the urge to run my fingers through the thick strands. He mumbles, “Hello. We need to hurry,” and turns to lead me to his truck. I swallow and follow behind him. Oh, God. My eyes automatically glance over his body. They move over his black dress pants and stop at his perfect rear-end. I clench my hands to control the urge to reach out and touch him.
He helps me into the passenger seat, and I hold my breath. His yummy masculine scent is overwhelming me, and my overheated body begins to sweat. As he rushes around the front of the truck, I squirm in the seat, trying to squash the intense hunger that’s holding me hostage. I feel the dampness in my silk panties and realize I’m close to losing control and jumping the hot jerk. He’s just as rude today. Every time I attempt to start a conversation, he shuts me down. I’m hurt and frustrated at his attitude. It’s obvious the big ass is attracted to me, but he’s bound and determined to make sure I know he doesn’t want me. At my wit’s end, I comment on the weather, but he turns up the music to avoid me.
The tense silence in the truck cab eats at my nerves. When we stop at a red light, I glance over and notice he’s having a hard time, too. His fingers are clenched around the steering wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles stark white. A vein pounds away in the side of his neck while small droplets of sweat dot his hairline. By some stroke of luck, it begins to rain as we drive down Main Street, and he offers to drop me off at the door. I rush into the crowded restaurant and give my name to the hostess. It might be rude to leave him behind, but my weak heart and over-heated body need a reprieve from his presence. My mother glances up and smiles as I slip into the empty seat between my dad and Fletcher. “Where’s Mason?” All the conversation stops, and everyone turns to wait for my reply.
“He dropped me off at the door.” I shrug and grab the glass of water the waitress places in front of me. I need the icy liquid to cool me off.
A few moments later, Mason walks up and sits in the only chair left. Thank God, it’s all the way at the other end of the long table. Throughout the night, I discuss last-minute plans with the women and attempt to ignore the jerk completely. I brush off the intense undercurrent surrounding all of us and pray for the evening to end. The tiny vengeful part of me that wants to hurt him eggs me on. I make a display, engaging everyone at the table in conversation except Mason.
We’re finishing up our meal when Mason slams his napkin on the table and mumbles some excuse. As I watch his massive body rush through the restaurant, I ignore the stares from everyone else at the table. I can’t wait to get tomorrow over with.
* * *
The next day,I'm applying my eyeliner while my sister sits next to me. “So, what was the problem with Mason last night?”
My twin glances at me in the mirror and I shrug. “He’s an asshole.” I finish with my eyeliner and decide we need a change of conversation before tears ruin my make-up. I grab her veil off the hanger and walk over to help her pin it in her hair. “Fletcher is going to be pacing the aisle if we don’t get a move on, ” I remind her. “You look beautiful. Maybe a little pale, though.”
She breathes deeply and smiles weakly. “I feel like I’m about to puke.”
My mother has perfect timing. “Don’t you dare.” She rushes into the room, overhearing us. “The ceremony is about to start. We don’t have time to clean up any messes.” She pats Bridgett’s arm and turns to hiss at me, “Go check and see if they’re ready for us.”