“What do you want?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Was he trying to intimidate her? She studied him more intensely—and got caught up in his appeal. He wasn’t classically handsome, but then, he didn’t need to be. His features were rugged, total male, with a nose slightly out of alignment and a square jaw dusted with inky stubble, leading to a tattooed neck. Two necklaces hung just over his sternum, one an oval, one a cross. He had wide shoulders, leather cuffs anchored around his wrists and silver rings on several fingers.
He wore jeans that weren’t fastened and combat boots that weren’t tied. Clearly he’d dressed in a hurry. And he could be talking to her right now, but deaf as she currently was, she wouldn’t know it. She returned her attention to his mouth. Once again it was a hard slash.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I need you to repeat that.”
He frowned. “Who are you?”
“Brook Lynn Dillon. I’m looking for my sister, and I was told—” Movement atop the bed drew her gaze. “She’s in here with you,” she finished. If Jase said anything else, she didn’t know and didn’t care anymore. She approached the bed.
The person beneath the covers stretched before sitting up, pale, shoulder-length hair falling into place around a sleep-soft face Brook Lynn recognized all too well. Relief blended with an irritation she didn’t understand as her sister blinked over at her.
Jessie Kay’s lips were moist and red as she clutched a sheet to her naked chest. “Brook Lynn? What are you doing in here?”
She wasn’t wasted, as Brook Lynn had feared, but she was clearly exhausted—from too much pleasure. The irritation spread and spiked.
“What do you think I’m doing?” she demanded.
“Well, the first thing that pops into my head is—annoying the crap out of me.”
A typical Jessie Kay response. “Just...get dressed,” Brook Lynn said. “Let’s go home.”
“No way. You go.” Her sister settled more comfortably against the pillows. “I’m good right where I am.”
“Too bad. It’s late, and we have to work tomorrow.”
“Actually, you have work. I’m calling in sick.”
“No, you are not sticking me with a double two days in a row,” Brook Lynn said. “I’ll tell Mr. Calbert the truth. You know I will.”
Jessie Kay shrugged, unconcerned.
How are we related? “I’m very close to losing my temper with you.” Brook Lynn had only three goals in life: save money, buy Rhinestone Cowgirl and turn her sister into a viable human being.
Love the girl, but I don’t know how much more I can take.
Jessie Kay loved her, too, and hadn’t purposely set out to make her life hell. That was just collateral damage.
“Calm down, Warden,” her sister said. “No need to blow a gasket.”
Warden. A nickname Jessie Kay had given her at the age of fifteen. Brook Lynn gritted her teeth, saying, “Get dressed. I mean it.”
Her sister’s eyes, a darker shade of blue than her own, flashed with impatience. “I told you. I’m not going anywhere.” Jessie Kay said something else, but she’d turned away, and Brook Lynn couldn’t follow the movement of her lips.
“I’m on silent,” she interrupted. “I need to see you.”
Jessie Kay immediately turned toward her, but her gaze got caught on Jase, and she flinched. Before Brook Lynn was able to comment, her sister rushed out, “Okay. All right. I’ll get dressed. Jeez.”
Brook Lynn dared a glance at Jase. He hadn’t relocated from his spot at the end of the bed, his muscled arms still crossed over his chest. His frosty gaze was locked on her rather than the woman he’d just slept with, and she gulped.
“We’d appreciate a little privacy,” she said, praying she wasn’t breathless.
He gave a single, clipped shake of his head. “Sorry, honey, but this is my room.”
Honey? Had she misread his lips? “Well, we want to borrow it for a few minutes.”