Hard Irish by Jennifer Saints Page B

up.  “I’d return the favor,” he said.
    “Dinner and a doggie move?” Dessie asked.
    “No.  You wanted to know what to do with the man who gave you the best five seconds of your life.  I’d return the favor.”
    “Did I say they were the best?” Dessie stumbled and Rocky caught her friend’s arm, unsure if she should be amused or flabbergasted that Jared had just out-did her outrageous neighbor. 
    “You wouldn’t be so conflicted if they’d been your worst,” Jared replied.
    Dessie shut her eyes and exhaled hard.  “They were the best.”
    Rocky decided to join Jared’s campaign.  “You heard the miracle man, Dessie.  Return the favor.  Put the fire out and maybe you’ll both be able to think straight.”
    “Hell,” Dessie muttered as she walked out the door with Pebbles in tow.  “I’m going to burn in hell.”  She looked back.  “You’d better put that pocket guide to use.” 
    Rocky shut the door and leaned back on it for support, half-laughing, half-stunned.
    “Why does she think she’ll burn for it?  Is the guy married?”
    “No.  He’s thirty-something.  She’s fifty-something and she’s been saying ‘no’ to his every move.”
    Jared grinned.  “Looks like he found one...she couldn’t say ‘no’ to.”
    Rocky suddenly got the feeling that Jared’s mind wasn’t on Dessie’s orgasm confession, but on something else entirely.  Surely he wasn’t considering making a similar move?  Her heart kicked into overdrive and her mouth went dry.
    “What pocket guide was she talking about?”
    God help her!  Sex was swamping her from all sides.  She scrambled for a lifeline.  “Pizza.  We need some real food and you need to check in with your brother.”
    “Saved by the check-in?” Jared said softly.  “I knew there was a reason I didn’t like Jesse’s idea.  This conversation isn’t over.”
    “I’ll get the pizza menu while you call,” Rocky tried to hurry from the room before the situation could slide back into that moment of the utterly outrageous made seemingly possible.  Jared. Sex. And the pocket guide all happening right that moment.  She’d never admit it, but she wanted it bad .
    “Rocky,” Jared said, his voice soft and deep.
    She stopped and glanced back.
    “You can relax.  I won’t be storming your citadel.”  She nodded and turned away, but still heard his whispered, “ Yet. ”  Her stomach clenched and heat flushed her every nerve.  She tingled...everywhere, telling her that storming wasn’t going to be necessary.  A hot breath would knock her over in a heartbeat. 
     
     
    Jared nearly collapsed back onto the couch.  At the moment he couldn’t even storm an anthill.  He didn’t know what in the hell was wrong with him.  He slid the Glock he’d pulled out at the sound of a stranger’s voice back into his overnight bag on the floor next to him.   Then sweaty and shaky, he re-elevated his foot and drew in several deep breaths until the about-to-pass-out feeling dissipated.
    As sharp as Jesse was, the man would pick up on the least note of anything in Jared’s voice.  Jared wanted to blame his rapid pulse and weak knees on the image of him falling to his knees and sucking Rocky’s “no” away, but was afraid the weakness stemmed from his leg.
    Either he’d passed his spring-chicken prime, or the damage from the planter was taking a greater toll on his system than he realized it would.  Once steady, he dialed Jesse, hating the feeling that his big brother had had any right on his side.  Jared had to admit that if Rocky was under assault at that very moment and he had to go balls to the wall to save her; there was a slight possibility his body wouldn’t hold up in the fight.
    That fact galled his gut and he wondered if he should bow out and let Jared send a “real” bodyguard.  He thought about Rocky’s appeal and her vulnerable state and realized that the only men he’d trust to watch over her, would be one