inner office, he watched the sexy sway of her behind in the tight black silk. Lord have mercy! “Flew. Flight back to L.A. is Sunday. Thought I’d do some sightseeing while I’m here. Got a room at the airport.”
“Really?” she asked, now standing framed in the doorway. She had no idea he’d be staying for the weekend.
“You sound suspicious.” He ran appreciative eyes over the picture she presented and wondered how long she’d make him wait before he could brush his lips over her soft jawline.
“Should I be?”
“Maybe.”
JT saw the playfulness in his eyes and she shook her head knowingly. “I’m going to leave that alone. Where would you like to eat?”
“You choose.”
“Seafood?”
“Sounds good.”
They were staring. As the silence lengthened, she noted that the air in the office seemed to warm and thicken.
He spoke first. “My apologies for not being truthful the day we met. I didn’t know how you’d react if I told you I worked for McNair.”
“I felt like you played me.”
“I’m sorry for that too, but playing you wasn’t my intent, believe me. I had this beautiful, beautiful lady in my truck, and I didn’t want to mess it up.”
Her heart skipped. “Are you always this truthful?”
“About things important to me, yes.”
In her eyes he was a truly gorgeous man, both inside and out. “Let’s go eat. I’ll drive.”
“No problem. I’ll sightsee.” And the best thing to see was the Lady Blake in her hot black kimono.
She drove them back across the bridge that connected Oakland to San Francisco and pulled up at the curb of a small jazz club downtown. The valet, a brother in a dark suit, hurried to assist with the driver’s door, and he grinned as she stepped out. “Looking good, Lady B. How are you this evening?”
“Fine, Leo. How are you?”
“Seeing you just made life worth living.”
JT chuckled, gave him a tip, and led Reese inside.
The interior was shadowy, and because it was just past 7:00 P.M. , early for the club, the place wasn’t crowded yet. Even so, a young sax player was on stage playing like a musician with a gift.
“He’s good.” Reese noted, liking the intimacy of the place.
JT agreed. She came here often because the service was good, the music on jam, and she rarely ran into any of her players. The establishment’s hostess, a middle-aged woman named Wanda, stepped up and picked up a couple of menus. “Evening, Lady B.”
“Hey, Ms. Wanda, how are you?”
Wanda eyed Reese. “Be better if he was my date instead of yours.”
JT saw that he was smiling. “He is kinda cute, isn’t he?”
“Got that right. Regular spot?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
They followed Wanda through the club, and Reese followed the seductive swing of JT’s hips.
Once they were seated in JT’s favorite booth, Wanda said, “Waitress will be right with you.” She shot Reese a wink then left them alone.
In the silence that followed, Reese scanned his menu, but in fact he was checking out JT. He’d never seen a more perfectly put together woman. From her expertly arched brows to the sexy paint on her toes, she made a man want to roar. “So what’s good here?”
“Everything. I’m having the catfish.”
“Then I’ll go with that too.”
The menus were set aside and they turned their attention to the young sax player. He was covering Grover Washington’s “Black Frost” and making it his own. The waitress came over, they gave her their orders, then settled back to wait for their food.
Reese asked the question he’d been wanting to ask since first meeting her. “What’s JT stand for?”
“Jessi Teresa. I’m named after an aunt who lived back in the 1800s. She was a rancher.”
“Really?”
“Yep, married an outlaw named Griffin Blake.”
He stared, she grinned. “Legend says she could shoot the wings off a fly at fifty paces.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Anyone call you Jessi?”
“Only my mother, and only when she’s
“Really?” she asked, now standing framed in the doorway. She had no idea he’d be staying for the weekend.
“You sound suspicious.” He ran appreciative eyes over the picture she presented and wondered how long she’d make him wait before he could brush his lips over her soft jawline.
“Should I be?”
“Maybe.”
JT saw the playfulness in his eyes and she shook her head knowingly. “I’m going to leave that alone. Where would you like to eat?”
“You choose.”
“Seafood?”
“Sounds good.”
They were staring. As the silence lengthened, she noted that the air in the office seemed to warm and thicken.
He spoke first. “My apologies for not being truthful the day we met. I didn’t know how you’d react if I told you I worked for McNair.”
“I felt like you played me.”
“I’m sorry for that too, but playing you wasn’t my intent, believe me. I had this beautiful, beautiful lady in my truck, and I didn’t want to mess it up.”
Her heart skipped. “Are you always this truthful?”
“About things important to me, yes.”
In her eyes he was a truly gorgeous man, both inside and out. “Let’s go eat. I’ll drive.”
“No problem. I’ll sightsee.” And the best thing to see was the Lady Blake in her hot black kimono.
She drove them back across the bridge that connected Oakland to San Francisco and pulled up at the curb of a small jazz club downtown. The valet, a brother in a dark suit, hurried to assist with the driver’s door, and he grinned as she stepped out. “Looking good, Lady B. How are you this evening?”
“Fine, Leo. How are you?”
“Seeing you just made life worth living.”
JT chuckled, gave him a tip, and led Reese inside.
The interior was shadowy, and because it was just past 7:00 P.M. , early for the club, the place wasn’t crowded yet. Even so, a young sax player was on stage playing like a musician with a gift.
“He’s good.” Reese noted, liking the intimacy of the place.
JT agreed. She came here often because the service was good, the music on jam, and she rarely ran into any of her players. The establishment’s hostess, a middle-aged woman named Wanda, stepped up and picked up a couple of menus. “Evening, Lady B.”
“Hey, Ms. Wanda, how are you?”
Wanda eyed Reese. “Be better if he was my date instead of yours.”
JT saw that he was smiling. “He is kinda cute, isn’t he?”
“Got that right. Regular spot?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
They followed Wanda through the club, and Reese followed the seductive swing of JT’s hips.
Once they were seated in JT’s favorite booth, Wanda said, “Waitress will be right with you.” She shot Reese a wink then left them alone.
In the silence that followed, Reese scanned his menu, but in fact he was checking out JT. He’d never seen a more perfectly put together woman. From her expertly arched brows to the sexy paint on her toes, she made a man want to roar. “So what’s good here?”
“Everything. I’m having the catfish.”
“Then I’ll go with that too.”
The menus were set aside and they turned their attention to the young sax player. He was covering Grover Washington’s “Black Frost” and making it his own. The waitress came over, they gave her their orders, then settled back to wait for their food.
Reese asked the question he’d been wanting to ask since first meeting her. “What’s JT stand for?”
“Jessi Teresa. I’m named after an aunt who lived back in the 1800s. She was a rancher.”
“Really?”
“Yep, married an outlaw named Griffin Blake.”
He stared, she grinned. “Legend says she could shoot the wings off a fly at fifty paces.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Anyone call you Jessi?”
“Only my mother, and only when she’s
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