Meet Your Mate Page 8

  "Other than an inconvenience, it didn't seem to faze her.” Admiration seeped into Jack's voice.

  Interesting. Could the good Captain actually have a pulse?

  "That's true,” Matthew said. “I'm almost grateful her clothes were trashed."

  Jack's gaze snapped to Matthew's. “Why?"

  "Because she was forced to wear Carla's extra bathing suit."

  The Captain smiled and scratched his chin. “That was some suit. Brielle looked—” He shook his head. “I'd better get to work on that print."

  The figure snickered again. Jack wouldn't find anything new there.

  "I came to see if you and Brielle were through. I thought you might want a ride back."

  Matthew grinned. “Oh, I don't know if Brielle and I are through, but I do need that ride. Bill wants me to pick a name out of a hat, and that's the girl I get to date tomorrow night."

  Jack grimaced. “Lucky you."

  Matthew smiled until dimples grooved his cheeks. “No, lucky you, Bro. You get to hang out with the other three and watch a movie of your choice."

  "Aaaah. Is there no end to this madness?” He growled, rubbing his hands over his face. “I still think you're nuts to stay on this show, but that's your choice."

  "You're right. It is my choice, but I appreciate your concern.” Matthew slapped his brother's shoulder as they strode down the hall. “You know, Jack, you worry too much. I promise you, I know what I'm doing."

  The figure snickered again. That man has no idea what he's in for.

  * * * *

  The next afternoon, Brielle sat in the living room, pretending to read when Mandy rushed in carrying a big, black box.

  "It's here! The box is here!"

  Danni and Carla appeared out of nowhere to help the blonde carry the parcel.

  "What's with the box?” Brielle asked, getting to her feet.

  The trio stilled, their jaws dropped.

  "It contains the name of Matthew's date,” Danni said.

  "And the location,” Mandy added.

  Brielle knew but played dumb. “Oh, I thought maybe Jack was inside, ready to pop out."

  Danni laughed. “Good one."

  The blonde frowned. “I don't get it. Why would Jack be in the box when it's Matthew we're interested in?"

  "Haven't you ever heard of a Jack-in-the-box?” Danni rolled her eyes.

  "Oh, now I get it. Brielle made a joke.” Mandy finally laughed.

  Swallowing a sigh, Brielle nodded. She was ready for a nap. These women were trying. She had no idea watching them would be so tiring.

  "Yeah, yeah, very funny. Now let's open the damn box and see who gets Matthew to themselves.” Carla ripped off the lid, but Mandy snatched the card from inside and began to read.

  "Danni,

  Pick a team shirt and hat and be ready to cheer when we watch the baseball game from our private boxed seats in San Diego. See you soon.

  Love,

  Matthew."

  "Yes!” Smiling, Danni snatched the card from Mandy's hand. “I get the first one-on-one with Matthew!” She stilled and glanced at her watch. “Oh my gosh. The limo will be here soon. I'd better get ready."

  Brielle watched the other two contestants as Danni ran up the stairs, clutching a white Padres shirt and hat while singing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame."

  Mandy plopped onto a couch and hugged a pillow. “How come she gets to be the first one? And in a private box. I wonder how private?"

  "Honestly, Mandy.” Carla sighed as she sat down. “It'll be private enough. But don't worry, Matthew's going to give us all a trial run."

  The blonde's eyes grew round. “Do you really think he'll want to have sex with all of us?"

  Brielle clenched her teeth and tried to remain in the room. This was not a conversation she wanted to be a part of but given her mission, she had no choice. She had to evaluate the girls.

  "Of course,” Carla scoffed. “He'll want to sketch the subject before he paints."

  Unable to hold her tongue anymore, Brielle chimed in. “Geez, Carla. You sound like an expert. Have you been on a show like this before?"

  "Not exactly.” The brunette leaned back and studied her with a narrowed gaze. “But I do know men, and since Matthew qualifies, I say he'll behave like a taker and sample as many of us as will let him. And I will."

  Why did Carla sound so bitter toward men?

  "I will too.” Mandy straightened her spine. “As soon as I get a one-on-one date, that is.” She dropped the pillow and reached into the box to pull out the leftover T-shirt.

  "If you get one,” Carla corrected with a smile. “Don't forget, Matthew's only giving out two more before next week's elimination and all the other dates in between will be group ones."

  Mandy's face dropped, along with the Los Angeles team shirt she'd been holding. “I've got to get one of those dates.” She transferred her blue gaze to Brielle. “You'll probably get the next one because you're the new girl and the one his mama chose."

  She shook her head, feigning confusion. “I thought he was choosing a name out of a hat?"

  "That was just for this first date. Jack gets to pick Matthew's next one, and may the best candidate win.” Carla grabbed the discarded shirt from the floor and winked.

  "Yeah, that's why he's spending the evening with us tonight. He's bringing pizza and a movie of his choice and is supposed to determine which of us three is best-suited to date his brother,” Mandy said, retrieving her dropped pillow.

  Breath clogged her throat. Jack was coming here tonight? That would teach her to go off investigating and miss the producer's daily visit. She glanced at her watch. Did she have enough time to change out of her shorts and tank top before he arrived?

  "Forget it,” Carla said, as if reading her mind. “You don't have time to get all dolled up. They're due any minute now. He's going to judge us as we are."

  Dolled up? She didn't want to get dolled up to impress Jack. Or did she? Brielle frowned. No, it had nothing to do with that. She just wanted to be more presentable. He'd already accused her of being an exhibitionist. What would he think of her barely-there shorts and top graciously provided by the show?

  Chimes echoed through the house and quickened her pulse. That's him.

  She ripped the shirt from Carla's hand and yanked it on as Mandy raced for the door. At least the baseball shirt covered more. She glanced down and her heart stopped at the sight of the logo on her chest. Dodgers.

  "Hi, Matthew. Hi Jack. Danni should be down any minute.” The blonde's voice carried tunefully across the hall.

  "I'm here.” The teacher stepped off the bottom step in her Padres T-shirt, jeans and ball cap, carrying a jean jacket. She looked cute. “Hello, Matthew."

  "Hello, Danni.” He wore an identical T-shirt and hat, and grinned from ear to ear. “You look wonderful, and I see you made the right choice."

  Brielle forced her apparel from her mind and concentrated on the couple. Was this the girl Matthew had told her about? She watched them closely. He draped Danni's jacket over one arm and offered her the other. “Our limo awaits, my dear."

  "Have fun,” Jack said, balancing three boxes of pizza, two bottles of soda, and a DVD.

  "You, too.” Matthew winked before closing the door.

  Brielle, Mandy, and Carla, stared at Jack.

  "I realize I'm not my brother, but I could use a little help here."

  "I'll get the plates and things,” Carla said, disappearing into the kitchen.

  "That's not exactly what I meant, but thanks, Carla.” Jack shook his head. The movement caused the movie to slide across the boxes.

  "Let me help. I'll take that.” Mandy grabbed the teetering DVD.

  "Thanks, Mandy. That helped a great deal.” He smiled politely.

  Brielle grasped the sodas and fell into step. “So, how did you get babysitting duty?"

  He glanced sideways. “The studio assigned it.” His eyes widened when he noticed her shirt. A curious blue gaze sn
apped to hers. “You like the Dodgers?"

  Only one—and without the “s” at the end. She swallowed and blamed the warm June evening for the heat suddenly invading her body. “They're okay. I prefer the Mets."

  He winced. “Oh, say it isn't so. I thought there was hope for you, Brielle."

  "Poor, Jack. Forced to babysit two girls and a Mets fan,” she scolded playfully, while setting the bottles on the coffee table.

  "Yeah, the things I don't do for my brother."

  She grinned and opened a soda.

  "I don't like boxing, Jack. Do we have to watch this movie?” Mandy held up the DVD and wrinkled her nose.

  "Boxing? It doesn't involve boxing. It's more of an action/adventure.” He chuckled. The rare sound sent a shiver over Brielle's skin.

  "Oh.” The blonde took another look at the DVD and her eyes grew round. “Ring as in jewelry. Why didn't you say so? I love jewelry."

  "Yeah, Mandy loves rings,” Carla said, entering the room with her arms full of cups, dishes, and napkins.

  "You're just jealous because they look great on my fingers, and I've gotten more layouts than you.” Mandy slipped the movie into the player.

  "Yeah, but at least my layouts show my whole body.” Carla smiled derisively and placed her parcels on the coffee table.

  "Okay, ladies.” Jack snapped his fingers, then motioned for the girls to sit down. “We're not going to play ‘who has the better spread.’”

  The room grew quiet.

  Laughter bubbled in Brielle's throat. “I can't believe you just said that."

  "Neither can I.” He grimaced.

  The girls exchanged a look, then burst out laughing.

  "Oh, Jack. You should see your face. It's priceless,” Mandy said between gulps of air.

  "I'm sure it is.” He cocked his head and grabbed a slice of pizza. “Now, can we please watch the movie and eat in peace?"

  Two hours later, when Jack got up to remove the DVD, Brielle swallowed down a sigh—of protest or joy, she couldn't be sure. There'll be no devouring the bachelor's delicious brother tonight, my precious, she warned her libido, while unfolding herself from the cushions.

  Mandy's snoring and Carla's deep rhythmic breaths became more audible when Jack shut off the television. His glance bounced from the girls to Brielle.

  "Wow, I put two out of three to sleep,” he whispered, stacking the pizza boxes. “Almost a clean sweep.” He winked at her, then disappeared into the kitchen.

  She'd never been so happy to see her favorite movie end. Her body couldn't take another minute of sitting so close to Jack. Mandy had pulled him down to sit between them, while Carla had plopped into the chaise. Short of looking ignorant, Brielle couldn't get up and move so she'd suffered a tantalizing torture all evening and did her best to become one with the armrest.

  She had to. Every time Jack had reached for a drink or pizza, his arm had brushed her thigh, sending shivers across her skin. The action had killed her appetite for food, but increased her craving for the yummy former Ranger.

  Realizing he was alone in the other room, she grabbed the dishes and cups and followed, telling herself it was just to check up on him.

  "...this is not a joke."

  She stopped dead outside the swinging door. Who was Jack talking to? She peered through the crack. No one. He was alone and just closing his cell phone.

  Alarm quickened her heartbeats and stiffened her spine. What was that all about? Had he gotten a call? She hadn't heard his phone ring.

  Releasing the breath she hadn't realized she held, Brielle proceeded into the kitchen with her arms full. Time to investigate.

  "Here's the rest of the mess,” she said, heading for the sink. Her cameraman settled in the corner, while she unburdened her arms.

  "Let me help.” Jack slipped his phone into his pocket before grabbing the teetering pile. “So tell me, Brielle, how come you weren't bored to sleep?"

  She decided to play along. “I'd never sleep during that movie. It's one of my favorites.” His astonished expression made her smile. “Don't get me wrong, I love the whole trilogy, but the first one is my favorite."

  Jack remained still. “You like this type of movie? Why?"

  Her mind raced for an acceptable answer. “Do you have any idea how much choreography goes into those fight scenes? And the balance involved? It's a work of art. And quite graceful at times, too.” Frowning, she turned the tables on him. “Why? Was I not supposed to like it?"

  "No. It's just that most women don't.” He motioned toward the room were the beauties slept.

  She grinned and shook her head. “Jack. How many times do I have to tell you ... I'm not most women."

  His friendly gaze darkened to sapphire, brimming with hunger and flecks of desire. “I'm beginning to see that,” he murmured, dropping his attention to her mouth.

  She stopped breathing.

  Steady, Brielle, he's a suspect, her mind warned, but it was too late. A fog obscured the room and everything in it—everything except Jack. He stepped closer. Heat from his body seeped into her skin, raising her temperature to an instant burn. The pull of arousal ran deep—all the way to her core.

  His mouth a mere inch away, Jack's curse washed over her face. Warmed by his breath, her mind officially ceased to function and her body took over.

  Finally, I can kiss Dodger.

  Lips brushed, hot and real, sending tingles down her neck and spine. She didn't move, didn't breathe, letting his touch awaken every known and unknown pore. Even though it was the briefest of touches, the connection took hold, and she felt an influx of passion flow between them.

  Bells sounded in her ears, and it wasn't until Jack pulled away abruptly, that she realized the ringing had been his phone.

  Blinking, he answered his cell with one hand and thrust the other through his hair. “Yeah? What? When?” He frowned at her.

  Her heart hit the floor. Something was wrong.

  "Okay. Fine. I'll inform Franco and have him send his men. I'll see you when you get back.” He flipped the phone shut and placed it on the counter.

  "What's wrong?” she asked, traces of desire still evident in her tone.

  His blue gaze frosted. “You tell me."

  Chapter Seven

  "I can't believe how stupid I was! I'm sorry, Matthew.” Grinding his teeth, Jack struck the punching bag his brother held.

  "Hey, quit beating yourself up about it, Bro. You can't be in two places at the same time.” Matthew cocked his head and grinned. “Besides, how were you to know I'd get a call at the game?"

  "That's not the point,” he spat. “I shouldn't have left those two alone.” After contacting Franco last night, Jack had grilled Brielle and concluded she hadn't called his brother.

  Images of her tight-lipped expression filtered into his mind. Those warm incredible lips. Lips he'd tasted only moments before. His jaw clenched. He didn't know who he was angrier with—himself or Brielle.

  "Look, we've been over this. You thought Mandy and Carla were sleeping, and maybe they were.” Matthew's words brought Jack back to the present. His brother repositioned the bag against his shoulder, then signaled for him to continue. “Maybe Danni did it. She wasn't with me when I got the call."

  Jack stopped. “She wasn't?"

  "No. She'd stepped out to go to the bathroom. I couldn't very well go in there with her, so who knows? Maybe it wasn't Mandy, or Carla.” Matthew shrugged. “At least you know it wasn't Brielle."

  Jack curled his fist and hit the bag hard. Damn her. It's all her fault He punched again. Because of her, he'd broken his cardinal rule. Punch. Punch. Gave into his growing attraction for her. Punch. Punch. Punch. Brushed lips with her. Punch-punch. Punch-punch. Damn woman. The instant they'd touched, an energized shock wave engulfed his body. Punch. Punch. Punch.

  "Hey, Jack ... Jack!” Matthew's oath broke through his fogged brain. “Take it easy. I need my shoulder in one piece."

  Fists paused midair, Jack blinked until Matth
ew's face came into focus. He'd forgotten his brother was there. “Sorry, man. I was—"

  "On a mission. I know.” Matthew rubbed his shoulder. “Geez, when you're driven, you're really driven."

  "Ah ... yeah.” He unraveled the tape from his hands, balled it up, and tossed it into the garbage. Too bad he couldn't toss last night away. His lip twitched. No. Last night might have been a big mistake, but he'd learned from it, nonetheless.

  Kissing Brielle—if you could call a quick brush of their lips a kiss—had proven her dangerous. Not to Matthew, but to Jack and his self-control.

  "Am I to assume you have a problem with Brielle since your assault on the bag and my shoulder started after I mentioned her name?” Matthew leaned against the wall, arms folded.

  "Problem?” Yeah, he had a problem with her all right, but not one he wanted to discuss. Jack swiped his water bottle from the floor, then straightened to face his brother.

  "Come on, Jack. You don't honestly suspect Brielle, do you?"

  Good question. He eyed Matthew, warily. “Why? Do you like her?” His stomach knotted. Did he want to know the answer? No. Brielle was there for Matthew, not him.

  "Yes, I like her. I think she's great, don't you?” His brother's dimples deepened. He looked like a man intrigued.

  "I guess.” What he thought didn't matter, and the matter of Matthew and Brielle didn't bear thinking about.

  "You suspect her, don't you?” Matthew pressed.

  Jack tossed his head back and drained the water bottle before he spoke. “She was with me at the time you said the call came in. But that doesn't mean she wasn't working with one of the others."

  "What are you saying?” Matthew pushed from the wall.

  "I'm saying she could've been pretending to help me clean up last night in order to keep me in the kitchen."

  There, he'd said it out loud. It'd been niggling him ever since he'd learned Matthew had received another threatening phone call—at the exact time he'd been distracted by Brielle and left Carla and Mandy unattended.

  His grip tightened around the empty water bottle until the crackling ceased to assault his ears or fuel the ache in his head.

  "I think it's dead, Jack."

  Sneering at Matthew, he propelled the plastic torpedo into the garbage only to have it bounce out. He exhaled. Just like Brielle—she refused to stay out of his mind no matter what he did. Ignoring his brother's raised brows, he picked up the bottle and dropped it straight in.