Jason (Blue Halo Book 2)

Courtney groaned as she rolled over onto her back. Okay, that dream had been way too real. Jason had been way too real. All six-feet-four of him.

Were you supposed to feel a person’s breath on your skin in a dream? Or taste them when they kissed you? No. Hell no. Because then you just woke up hot, bothered, and disappointed, like she was right now.

She scrubbed her face, trying and failing to scour the dream away.

Jason had been standing right there in front of her outside that radio station, just like yesterday. Only in her dream, instead of him stepping back when she’d glanced at his mouth, he’d stepped forward, planting those beautiful lips on hers and all but devouring her.

Her heart pounded against her ribs at the memory.

Argh, dreams sucked.

No. Reality sucked. And not just the him-not-kissing-her part.

She cringed at the memory of what she’d done after the not-kiss. If turning into a nervous, bumbling mess wasn’t enough, she’d then walked off in the complete opposite direction of her car. And, of course, she hadn’t turned around like a normal person when sense had finally found her. No, she’d had to do a full lap around a random block just to save face.

Lun-a-tic.

Reaching across the bed, she grabbed a pillow and shoved it over her face. He had to know she’d wanted him to kiss her. But he hadn’t. Spoke volumes, didn’t it?

Gah. Throwing the pillow to the side, she pushed up onto her elbows. Eddie stretched beside her, meowing loudly as she rubbed his belly.

“How was your sleep, Eddie? Better than mine?” Did cats dream? Surely. And their dreams probably didn’t torture them with stolen moments that would never become reality.

Okay. Time to get up. She needed to be at The Grind by nine. What was the time?

Stretching toward the side table, she’d just grabbed her phone when a knock came at her apartment door.

She jumped, a screech leaving her lips as she tumbled off the bed, hitting the floor with a thud.

God dang it. This was not her day. Heck, this was not her week.

She knew who it was, who it always was… Helen Ellis from the apartment next to hers. The woman was always at her door. Usually talking about her dog, Bernie. She treated him like he was a king among men. Home-cooked food—all organic, of course—a bedroom all to himself, outfits… the list went on.

She stood, leaning over and giving a startled Eddie one last pat. “Sorry, buddy. You’re just an ordinary pet in this household.”

He purred, leaning into her hand.

Yeah, you don’t mind.

Another knock echoed through the apartment, this time louder. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, old woman.”

Courtney reached the door, talking before the thing was even open. “Helen, I’m really not—”

She looked up, almost choking on her words before slamming the door shut again. Not Helen. Not even a small, minuscule crumb of a resemblance to the older woman.

“Courtney?” Jason’s deep, rumbly voice had all the fine hairs on her arms standing on end.

Taking a step back, she looked at the mirror across the room.

Oh, sweet Jesus.

A mess. A total and complete mess. Her naturally wavy blond hair was akin to a bird’s nest. Her pink sleep top with cute bunnies on the front was crooked and wrinkled. And was that a handprint on the side of her face?

“Are you okay?”

She took another step back at the deep timbre of his voice. It took three seconds for her shocked vocals to produce anything. “Uh, yes.” Okay, she’d definitely just croaked those words.

“Can I come in?”

Her gaze darted around the living room. Her cozy, lived-in apartment suddenly seemed cluttered and even smaller. “No.”

He chuckled. “Why not, honey?”

“Because my apartment’s a mess and I look like a bridge troll.”

Another sexy laugh that had her feminine parts tingling. “I already saw you. You look beautiful.”

Beautiful?

“And I brought coffee.”

She frowned. “I own a coffee shop.”

“I know. I made this one at my place.”

He made her coffee? No one ever made her coffee. She was the coffee maker. Argh, now she had to let him in, didn’t she? “Okay, uh, hang on.”

Running to her bathroom, she rummaged through a drawer.

Bingo. A hair tie that might just save her.

She pulled the tangled mess into a bun on top of her head and inspected herself in the mirror. Not great, but not terrible. Now at least it looked like an intentional bird’s nest. Rushing back to the bedroom, she threw on a pair of jeans and T-shirt before returning to the door.

Okay, deep breath.

When she opened it, Jason’s mouth lifted on one side, showing that dimple she loved so much. Yep, the man was stunning, even at crazy early hours of the morning.

“Come in.” She stepped back.

He moved into the room, dwarfing the small space in much the same way he had the elevator yesterday. “I don’t see the mess you were talking about. Your place looks great.”

Her cheeks heated at the compliment. Closing the door, she turned to face him, and the second she did, every single English word that she’d ever learned disappeared from her frazzled mind. So she went with a smile.

“Did I hear a thud before you came to the door?”

Crap. Yes, and he would have heard the screech, and the muttered words under her breath to Eddie and about Helen.

She headed to the kitchen, swallowing and forcing her brain to produce words. “I fell out of bed.”

His brows rose as he scanned her body. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” It was just her pride that was wounded. She tugged the fridge door open, more to hide herself than anything else. “Have you eaten? I can scramble up some eggs on toast?” Wait, did she have bread? And if she did, was it edible?

Eating a lot of meals at The Grind sometimes meant the food she kept at home was minimal. And when she said sometimes, she meant every dang day.

“No, that’s okay. I just came to check on you.”

Phew. She was pretty sure eggs were all she had to offer, and really, who wanted eggs with a side of eggs?

She closed the door, almost jumping out of her skin when Jason was right there. Like, literally standing where the fridge door had just been.

The coffees were now sitting on the island counter.

Suddenly, images from her dream bombarded her. Of Jason bending down. His breath brushing her lips. His mouth pressing against hers.

Her belly flopped. Jeez, she needed to get out of her head. Taking three big steps back, she hit the counter. “Check on me? Oh, after yesterday? Yeah, I’m okay. I just… I’m struggling with small spaces at the moment.”

Struggling, scared out of her mind… They were the same thing, right?

“The other week, when you couldn’t walk into the freezer at The Grind, I thought it was just that space, because that’s where you’d been locked in.”

Holy Moses, she’d almost forgotten about Jason walking into the back room at The Grind to find her standing there like a stunned mullet, unable to move. The second he’d offered to go into the freezer and grab the cakes for her, she’d almost fallen into his arms in gratitude.

“No. Not just the freezer, although yes, that thing terrifies me now. Joey’s been moving what we need each day into the smaller freezers I just bought.”

Joey was her second-in-charge at the coffee shop. Her right-hand man. Her life jacket in the stormy sea of running a cafe.

Worry skittered over Jason’s features. “Have you thought about talking to Grace about what happened?”

Yes. But each time she considered it, she also gave herself a reason not to. Like she was busy. Or Grace wouldn’t have time. Or it was strange asking her friend to put her therapist hat on for a formal appointment.

And the reason she’d come up with all those excuses was because she was sure Grace would make her relive the experience. That was how therapy worked, wasn’t it? You had to talk about what happened. What you felt.

No, thank you. Not right now, at least.

“I’m okay. It’s Grace we should be worried about. Logan and her father were almost murdered before her eyes. Not to mention the way she had to run for her life and almost froze to death.”

Jason lifted a coffee from the island. Taking slow steps toward her, he handed her the drink. Her skin tingled where it brushed his, the tingle rushing from her hand right up her arm.

“Her experience doesn’t diminish yours,” he said quietly.

Where had this man come from? A factory of men who had twelve-packs and said perfect things? She’d never dated a guy like him. Heck, she’d never met a guy like him until moving to Cradle Mountain.

All the guys she’d ever dated had been douchebags. The kind who squeezed your ass when you were close and thought two words was the extent of conversation required for the day.

“I know. And I appreciate you checking on me. And for coming and helping me yesterday.” Saving me. She lifted the coffee, taking a sip. “Mm, it’s good.”

He lifted his own. “But not as good as yours?”

“Rule number one of business, believe in your product. I can’t go telling people their homemade coffee is better than my coffee shop coffee. I’d go out of business.”

One of his massive shoulders lifted. “You could just tell me. I can keep a secret.”

She chuckled. “Good try, buddy, not happening. My lips are sealed.” Particularly because his coffee was damn good. What beans did he use?

He took a small step closer. She breathed him in. Nature and coffee. It was a scent she could easily become addicted to.

“I like that sound.”

Her breath tried to catch in her throat, but she greedily sucked in air. “What sound?”

“That beautiful laugh of yours.”

Her limbs suddenly felt lethargic. “That’s the second time you’ve said beautiful in reference to me today.”

Another step forward. Oh, God, she might pass out on the spot if he got any closer. As it was, her heart was crashing against her ribs like a swinging punching bag. When he lifted a hand and placed it on her upper arm, a small squeak nearly escaped her lips.

“Because you are.”

Words left her head once more. She almost looked down at his mouth again. Almost.

Giving herself a quick mental shake, Courtney stepped to the side before moving around the island, not entirely certain she wasn’t running away from him.

Okay, she was definitely running away from him and one hundred percent hiding from his touch.

“Thank you for stopping by.” She almost wanted to pat herself on the back for speaking actual words. “I should get ready for work. Joey hates it when I’m late. Sometimes you’d wonder who’s the boss, him or me.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at Jason’s lips. Too. Damn. Sexy.

Turning, she headed for the door, tugging it open. “And thank you for the coffee.”

And the visit. And the smiles. And calling me beautiful so many times my insides turn molten.

He followed and stopped in front of her. Her eyes hit his big chest like it was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen…which wasn’t far from the truth.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Then his hand went to her upper arm again. He gave her a gentle squeeze before walking away. And she was left standing there, feeling branded—burned—by his touch.