Somebody's Lover: The Jackson Brothers, Book 1

women.”
    “What are they?” She shook her head. He was almost laughable, if he wasn’t pissing her off so much. “Lou has been gone for three years. And what, I’m supposed to go off to a convent?”
    He looked straight ahead through the windshield. “You could try dating, you know.”
    “Like who?” Willoughby wasn’t jumping with candidates.
    “How about Joe?”
    “He’s ten years older than me and still lives with his mother.”
    “That makes him respectable.”
    “I don’t want to date Joe. I don’t want to date anyone. I’m not looking for Lou’s replacement.” To the family, Jace included, she was Lou’s wife, not Lou’s widow. Keeping his memory alive meant never letting her move on. They wouldn’t like her dating a new man, and God forbid she should ever want to marry again. Which was fine with her, really it was. She was self-sufficient, and Lou’s family, her family now, meant more to her than having a man around the house. She didn’t want a husband. Most of the time. Except in the middle of a dark and lonely night as she climbed into a cold, empty bed.
    “I need...” She stopped. She couldn’t tell Jace that it wasn’t true what they said about vibrators. They were not a woman’s best friend. They couldn’t replace a man’s weight, a man’s body, or his hardness inside her.
    He smacked a hand on the steering wheel. “You’re a mother. With my brother’s two kids at home. You can’t pick up men in bars.”
    If he said that one more time, she’d reach across the seat and belt him. She was Brian and Jamey’s mom to him. He couldn’t see anything else. None of the family could. She loved them, she never wanted to lose them, never wanted to hurt them, but sometimes, she wanted to scream. Suddenly all those bottled up feelings spilled out over Jace.
    “I am not just somebody’s mother. Or somebody’s wife. Or somebody’s daughter-in-law. And I’m not just somebody’s sister-in-law.” She wanted to be somebody’s lover. Leaning over, she stared him down glare for glare. “I’m a woman, Jace. A woman.”
    “I know that.” He backed off.
    “Do you?” To him, she was his nephews’ mother, his brother’s wife. “Do you really?”
    “Yeah, uh, sure.”
    Right. She was a sexless thirty-three-year-old. Forget the word woman . It didn’t even fit in his definition of her. Later she wouldn’t be able to say what had snapped inside her. She barely remembered diving across the space that separated them, but she did remember fastening her lips to his.
    He tasted of yeasty beer and smelled like some cool aftershave. She pressed her breasts to his chest, wrapped her arms around his neck, and hung on as he braced his hands against her ribs and tried to push her away. Taylor wasn’t letting go.
    She angled her head, sucked at his mouth, then ran her tongue along the seam of his lips. Her nipples peaked through the spandex as she rubbed against him. Then she forgot it was Jace. She forgot he was her husband’s brother. She simply reveled in the feel of a man’s lips beneath hers. His thumbs began to stroke the soft undersides of her breasts.
    He opened his mouth to her tongue, tested her, tasted her, then leaned her back against the steering wheel and kissed her as if she was somebody’s lover.
    Lord, he felt good, so good. Her body moistened against her miniscule panties. She throbbed. Her nipples ached for the rasp of his tongue on them. She wriggled in his lap and moaned against his mouth. His hand rose, cupped her, taking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She almost came—it had been so long since she’d felt like this. He shifted, his hips surging up to rock his erection against her.
    She was actually wondering how she could get her nylons off and not let go of him.
    Then the horn honked. Long and loud. Taylor snapped back to reality, pulling away from the steering wheel to stop the racket.
    Still cupping her breast in his hand, Jace stared at her, a weird shell-shocked grimace on his face. Dilated pupils, air puffing in and out of his lungs, his Adam’s apple slid as he swallowed.
    Oh Lord. She jerked from his lap, yanked down on her skirt where it had ridden to the top of her thighs, and lunged back to her side of the truck.
    She’d been ready to straddle his lap right there in the front seat. In a parking lot. Jace. Her husband’s brother.
    “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’m really sorry. I...” Lord, the things she’d