Read Jack (The Family Simon Book 2) for Free Online Page A

rain had started. Jack inhaled deeply, his mind wandering.
     
    “Man, they grow them nice in this neck of the woods,” Teague said, eyeing the blonde who’d just walked into Bobby’s Idle Hour Tavern.
    Jack turned to follow his cousin’s gaze, ‘cause hell, Teague rarely commented on women. Wasn’t his style. He was the quiet, observant twin to the more outgoing Tucker. But as Jack’s eyes locked onto the blonde in question, he wasn’t surprised.
    She was something else, all right.
    She was talking to a girlfriend, so he couldn’t get a handle on her face, but the packaging was mighty fine. She wore a plain, white cotton dress that was cut a little low on top and—Jack stood a bit taller—cut a little short on the bottom.
    Nice.
    The brunette standing next to him at the bar snorted. “Are you kidding me? She’s like some hick from Arkansas who thinks she can sing. Truth is, the only reason she’s allowed on stage is because she’s banging the guy who books the talent.”
    Irritated, Jack ignored the woman’s comment. Why did some women feel the need to knock others down? Did they think guys thought it was an attractive trait?
    Just then the blonde’s eyes met his, and Jack felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He was hot and then cold and everything seemed so much louder, more intense…alive. With just one look he got all of that.
    She was young, fresh, and—a slow gentle smile curved her generous mouth—she wasn’t looking away.
    Jack set his beer on the bar and slapped his brother on the shoulder. “Sorry, Teague. This one’s mine.”
    “Yeah,” Teague said with a grin. “I see that.”
    The brunette, Pam or Patti or something like that, grabbed Jack’s arm and gave it a tug. “What is that girl’s appeal? I don’t get it. Every guy in here becomes a puddle of goop when she’s around. Give her another few years in the business, and she’ll look no different than the rest of them.”
    Jack looked at the woman. How in hell had he spent the last half an hour entertaining the thought of getting her back to his hotel?
    He pushed away from the bar without another word, shoving his way through the thick crowd, eyes back on the mystery girl. Liking the fact that her eyes were still on him.
    It wasn’t until he was standing in front of her that he noticed a beat up guitar case in her hand. A host of stickers covered the thing, and if he was to believe the case, it looked as if she’d been all over the United States.
    Her friend whispered something into her ear and slipped away, leaving Jack staring at the hottest woman he’d ever had the occasion to look at. She was sex and cotton candy all rolled into one delectable treat, and he swallowed hard.
    His physical reaction was immediate.
    “Do I get to hear you play?” he managed to say without sounding like a complete idiot.
    She was silent for a few moments, and he noticed raindrops clinging to her hair. He inhaled sharply, liking the fresh smell of a hot, humid, Tennessee evening.
    “That depends,” she said softly.
    Shit. Her voice was low and husky, full of smoke and whiskey. And Christ, the mole beside her mouth was sexy as hell.
    “On what?”
    “On how long you’re staying.”
    He leaned in closer. “I’m here all night.”
    Freckles danced across her nose, and Jack fought the urge to bend even lower and swipe his tongue along the bridge. Just thinking about that got him to thinking about other things, other small and dark places he’d love to touch and smell and taste.
    He had to take a moment, because his jeans were gonna get mighty uncomfortable unless he got his shit together.
    “What’s your name?” she asked.
    “Jack.”
    “Just Jack?”
    He hesitated, knowing that a lot of folks would put two and two together and realize exactly who he was. “Simon,” he said roughly.
    Her finely shaped eyebrows furrowed, and her face broke wide open in a grin that left him feeling even more enamored than he already