Jasmine didn’t look. She simply leaped, along with her heart. “Okay.”
Chapter Eleven
Sarge rested his hand on the small of Jasmine’s back, wanting to sing “We Are the Champions” when she didn’t pull away.
It couldn’t have been this easy, right? He orders some pizzas and pays everyone’s factory salary for a couple hours—and in return, Jasmine agrees to spend time with him? For now, she appeared to have set aside her reservations and given them an afternoon free of the million-dollar question. What happens now? If Sarge thought his answer wouldn’t dissolve the beautiful smile from Jasmine’s face and replace it with censure, he would have told her. Straight up.
What happens now? Now he fought for her.
Sarge held no illusions that everything had been solved last night. Or back in the factory’s dark machine room. Nor was he arrogant enough to believe sex would eventually change her mind for good. But he could see a crack of jagged daylight in Jasmine’s wall. No longer did she have that worry in her eyes, telling Sarge exactly what she was thinking. That they were wrong together. Their age difference was too much. That people in Hook wouldn’t approve. The deeply etched line between the two of them had been brushed away for now—and Sarge intended to take the crack of light in Jasmine’s resolve and break it wide open.
Step one involved getting her out of Hook for a while, eliminating the worry of being seen together. Proving their relationship could be more than sweaty encounters behind locked doors. At the mall two towns over in the middle of a workday, hopefully they’d be in the clear. Notoriety was a strange thing. Some days, he could walk for hours without being recognized. Other days, not so much.
Please let today be one of the former.
When Sarge let his fingers dip into the waistband of Jasmine’s jeans, she gifted him with one of those pursed-lip smiles. “You still haven’t told me why we’re at the mall.”
“Two reasons.” He massaged the base of her spine with his thumb, smiling when she bit her lip and groaned. “One, I need your help buying a Christmas present for Marcy.”
Her brown eyes went soft. “Oh. And what’s the second reason?”
“I owe you a dress.”
Jasmine’s back went straight. “You’re not buying me clothes.”
“Yeah.” They reached the glass double doors of the mall’s main entrance, and Sarge held one open so Jasmine could go in ahead. “I kind of figured you wouldn’t be thrilled about that idea.”
“So you drove me here before telling me.”
“Hear me out.” A group of teenage guys were pointing at him, so he threw them a casual wave, but kept Jasmine walking. “I’m going to buy you the ugliest dress we can find.”
“Oh, well now I’m on board.” Her widening smile ruined the effect of her sarcasm, spreading across her face and making her glow. “Is there more to this plan or does it end with me making Hook’s worst-dressed list?”
Damn. Damn, he should have just taken her home. He could be kissing her mouth, her stomach, her knees. Now they were stuck in a public place and she couldn’t stop being amazing for even a little while. “There’s more.” Sarge noticed the group of teenagers had turned and begun following them, holding up their cell phone cameras to take pictures. “You get to buy me something ugly, too.”
Jasmine appeared thoughtful. “Which will take care of your guilt for ruining my dress, I don’t have to feel like I owe you money, and we get to out-ugly each other.”
“See how that works?” Feeling protective of Jasmine, even though it was only a group of kids following them, Sarge wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close. “I’m not going to lie, a significant part of the plan involves watching you try on dresses. Ugly ones.”
“Long ones. Modest ones.”
“The plan said nothing about long or modest.”
She laughed into his shoulder, and his chest almost caved in. His imagination conjured an image of a dozen invisible arms reaching out, trying to snatch up the details of that moment. Jasmine’s warm breath passing through his sleeve, the way she lifted on her toes to press her mouth to him. Her golden scent. God, her scent. There had to be a way to take moments and freeze them forever, right? It didn’t seem fair they had to end, like an album track. And damn, he needed to bring his thoughts down a notch before he did something crazy. Like promising to write her a never-ending song. Or begging her to laugh into his shoulder again. Or both.
“So who’s going first?” Sarge managed, his voice gruff.
Her gaze lit on something up ahead. “You first. Definitely you.”
Almost afraid to look, Sarge spotted the mall kiosk boasting custom tie-dyed shirts. “Oh wow. It’s like they saw us coming.”
Jasmine tugged him toward the booth. “Funny how plans backfire.”
Twenty minutes later, Sarge was the reluctant owner of a hot-pink and baby-blue tie-dyed shirt that said “Band Geek” across the chest. Looking adorably pleased with herself, Jasmine still hadn’t noticed the group of people forming across the mall, watching them and snapping pictures. Wanting to keep it that way lest she worry about them ending up on the internet, Sarge kept her facing away from the building group, throwing them an occasional smile over her head, hoping they would lose interest.
Old News traveled with light security on the road, mostly for Lita’s safety, but today marked the first time Sarge had to worry about someone in his care—Jasmine—being affected by curious fans. Any other time, he wouldn’t hesitate to sign autographs or take pictures, but he was all too aware that this hiatus with Jasmine was set to expire. One of her parameters had been to keep their relationship a secret. Dozens of people seeing them together would break the spell for sure.
Dammit, he hadn’t been careful enough.
“All right, smart-ass. You’re up,” Sarge muttered, throwing the bag containing his new shirt over one shoulder. “Payback is going to be beautiful.”
“I thought ugly was the point.” Jasmine shook her head at Sarge, even as he took her hand. “You don’t even remember your own rules.”
Wanting to get her off the mall’s main floor, Sarge pulled her into the first women’s clothing store they passed. Which thankfully, turned out to be exactly what he’d had in mind. Designed for shoppers on a budget, the hemlines were brief, the material thin…and there was an overabundance of animal print. Last-minute clubbing outfits. “This makes my job pretty easy,” Sarge murmured, noting they were the only customers in the store. Thank God. The longer they could fly under the radar, the better.
“Put me in zebra print and die.”
Forcing a laugh, even though his throat was tightening with dread, Sarge’s gaze snagged on a red dress with no sleeves, the number 69 in giant yellow letters below the neckline. “Oh, I think we have a winner.”
Following his line of sight, Jasmine’s jaw fell. “No. No way. Don’t you dare.”
“You were so smug with your tie-dye.” Dodging her attempts to prevent him from retrieving the dress, Sarge managed to snatch it off the rack. Jasmine made for the exit, but Sarge hauled her back with an arm across her middle before she’d taken two steps. “Oh no, you don’t. We had a deal. You at least have to try it on.”
Jasmine wiggled in his hold, which presented a problem since her bottom was curved into his lap. Her struggle was halfhearted at best, but the way his body responded was the exact opposite of halfhearted. “Now look what you’ve done,” Sarge rasped into her ear, thankful they were hidden by the clothing racks.
“You weren’t kidding…” Jasmine breathed. “About needing me more.”