by Elena Aitken
“You even got her begonias. This is…I’ve seen your work, that’s why I reached out to you, but I never…I mean, the details…” Sifting his fingers through his long salt and pepper beard, he couldn’t take his eyes off the drawing. He let out a shaky sigh.
The longer the silence went on, the more uncomfortable Skylar grew. She should leave, give them time alone, yet moving would jar the client out of this intense moment.
Finally, Blake cupped a hand over his mouth and looked away. Blinking rapidly, he drew the heel of his palm across his damp cheek. “You got…” His voice had grown thick, rougher, and he swallowed. “How’d you know about our Charlie?”
On the way down here, Jinx had told her about the defining moment in this couple’s life. It had taken them ten years to finally get pregnant, and then they’d lost the baby. Blake’s lips trembled, and a rush of tears spilled down his cheeks.
Jinx moved in, drawing the big man into his arms and giving him a hug. “I got you.” He tightened his hold. “I got you.”
The biker nearly collapsed around Jinx, but her friend held his ground and propped the man up.
Tears blurred her vision, and sadness weighed heavily on her.
Jinx is such a good man.
I’m a damn fool.
Jinx: You up?
Skylar eyed the text from Jinx as she finished the last few swipes of mascara. Shoving the wand back inside the tube, she picked up her phone and took a selfie in the mirror as a response.
Jinx: Breakfast?
Skylar: Yes, starving.
She waited for more—where to meet, what time—but in typical Jinx fashion nothing came. Before this trip, his quietness had aggravated her. Now, though, it intrigued her. She wanted to know him.
She tossed the mascara into her make-up bag and then dropped it in the suitcase she’d left open on her bed. Then, grabbing her keycard, she headed out the door.
A zing of awareness shot through her at the sight of tall, dark, and tattooed Jinx leaning against the wall. He had an intense way of looking at her that stirred something dark and decadent…something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
An image flashed in her mind. Jinx lifting her and pressing her against the wall, taking what he wanted. He’d be the best kisser, she just knew it.
Damn, no wonder Lori was always touching him.
They headed toward the elevators. “You’re up early,” she said.
“Always.”
“Yeah? Me, too, but that’s not exactly by choice.” She smiled to let him know she had zero resentment towards her son for the schedule she kept. She loved every minute with her baby boy. “What gets you up so early?”
“Got stuff to do.”
She pressed the button. “The garage doesn’t even open until eight.”
“I do other stuff.”
“Like?”
He hunched a shoulder. “I eat, read, paint.”
“You’re an interesting man, Jinx Costello.” As they boarded, she remembered what Lori had called him. “So…why do they call you that?”
“Jinx?”
She nodded.
“Ah. I might need coffee first.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be nosy.”
They were quiet for a moment, and then he said, “I like that about you.”
“Like what?”
“You care. About the people in your world.” He paused. “It’s nice.”
The doors parted, and they stepped into an active lobby. The hotel had a hot breakfast bar, but Jinx steered her outside. “Saw a diner across the street. Might be better food.”
The morning was cold enough to hurt when she inhaled, but she didn’t mind. The icy air cleared her mind and awakened her senses. She missed Rocco, for sure, but…she was happy to be with Jinx.
And what a surprise that is.
He had this rough exterior—the scruff, the tats, the muscles—but an incredibly sensitive soul.
They dashed across the street and entered a lively restaurant. Grabbing menus, the hostess led them to a red booth. The warmth stung her cheeks.
“Can I get you started with some coffee?” the woman asked.
“Yes,” they said at the same time.
The woman grinned. “Be right back.”
Jinx scanned his menu briefly, then set it down. “So…Jinx.” He picked up the salt shaker, tilting it from side to side. “My brother was part of a motorcycle club, and they all had road names.” His gaze flicked up to her. “I told you he died on his way to my dad’s funeral.”
She nodded, seeing his pain etched into the lines around his eyes and mouth. She had to check her impulse to reach for him.
“I took it hard, his passing. Dropped out of school, spent time fixing up his bike. After I painted a memorial to him on it, his friends saw it and asked me to paint their bikes. I did it, and so I hung around with them for a while.” He cocked his head. “Maybe a year or so? From the beginning, they called me Jinx. It stuck. Guess they thought I was bad luck.”
“Jinx…no.” God. “What happened to you was horrible. I don’t know about luck, but if that’s what you want to call it, it was the worst kind. You certainly didn’t bring it on.”
The waiter flipped over their mugs and poured the coffee. “You ready to order?”
“I’d like two eggs over easy, whole wheat toast, please.” Skylar handed the menu to her.
“Omelet. Cheddar cheese, peppers, onions, mushrooms.” Jinx gave her the menu. “Thanks.”
“You got it.” She took off.
After Skylar added cream and sugar to her coffee, she held the mug in both hands, letting the warmth seep in. “I’m very sorry, Jinx. I can’t believe you lost them both like that.”
“My brother was the hardest. I loved my dad, of course, but my brother…”
“You were close.”
“Sounds weird, considering we were only a couple years apart, but yeah. In some ways, I raised him.” He glanced out the window. “I didn’t want to go to college across the country, but I got a full ride to Parson’s, and it seemed stupid to blow it off.”
“You’re not blaming yourself, are you? That he got involved in a motorcycle club?”
“I don’t know about blame. I know he didn’t apply to college. I know he worked in a garage, made friends with some of the guys. They became his family.”
“You just feel like, if you’d been around, he’d have gone in a different direction?”
“I know he would have. I’m the one who was on his case to get homework done, meet his responsibilities. Yeah, it would’ve turned out differently if I’d been around.” His features twisted in pain as he stared into his coffee mug. “But it’s not like I should’ve stayed home and not gone to college. I wasn’t his parent.” He tugged on his scruff. “I don’t blame myself, but I…” He let out a rough exhalation. “I guess it all gets tangled up inside me.”
“I’m sure it does. Jinx, that’s a heavy load to carry.” She couldn’t stand it. She reached across the table and covered his hand. “But you have to know nothing good can come out of taking the blame for something you had no control over.”
“I know. You’re right.” He lifted his mug but didn’t drink. “I just…”
“You miss him.”
He set the mug down. “Every minute of every day.”
“I’m sorry.”
He turned his hand over, clasped hers, and the intimacy of it gave her a jolt.
She should probably change the subject. “So, after spending that year with the bikers, what did you do?”
“I guess word spread, because the offers kept coming in from all over, but I had enough projects to keep me busy. At some point, though, it was time to move on. Another club—this one in Florida—had been after me for a while, so I went there. Stayed about eight or nine months, did a lot of bikes. Might have stayed longer, but your brother called me up. Said he got requests every day for custom paint jobs, and that he was tired of saying no.”
“So, you just dropped everything and moved?”
“Nah.” He shook his head. “Told him I wasn’t interested.”
“Calamity, Wyoming, right? You’d probably never heard of it.”
“Oh, I’d heard of it. But I paint motorcycles. Didn’t really see how moving to a cold mountain town would be the best career move.”
“But it has been? That’s why you’ve stayed?”
His gaze snapped up to hers. For one intense moment, he froze. He looked like he’d been caught stealing money out of her purse.
The waiter leaned over with their plates, slicing through the tension. “Here you go. Can I get you anything else?”
“No, thank you,” Skylar said. “This looks perfect.”
“I’ll freshen up your coffees.”
They dug into their eggs, eating quietly for a few minutes. Long enough that her thoughts had wandered to Aspen and her son. And fucking Eddie. So help me God if he hurts my son—
“I think you know why I stayed.” Jinx said it quietly, seriously.
A shock traveled down her spine. She didn’t say a word.
“I stayed for you.”
Oh, God. She hated that he’d be so direct, but also…she loved it. Loved that he put it right out there. He had a girlfriend, so it wasn’t like he had an agenda. He just spoke the truth.
You can trust a man like that.
“But…” She swallowed. “I’ve been so mean to you.”
“I wouldn’t say mean. You’ve been short with me, made yourself clear. But it doesn’t matter, because I know a lot of things about you.”
“Like?”
“Like you’re a patient and fierce mom. I know you treat your clients the same way you treat your son—with love and respect and honesty and kindness. I know you’re smart, I know you work your ass off but still stay present for Rocco. I know you’ve got a big, weird, loving family. I know the hurt and pain you live with and how it doesn’t make you ugly and bitter. Other than not being friendly to me, I like every single thing I’ve seen.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Took me a while to get that there was nothing between us.”
“It’s not you.” She was so glad for the opportunity to clear that up. “I’ve just been so…I don’t know. I was going to say busy…focused on building my business and raising my son—which is true. But the thing is…” She set her fork down. “I’m angry. I don’t have feelings for Eddie anymore. It’s not like I want him back. It’s just that it grinds through me. Rocco’s growing up without a dad, and Eddie’s right there. I don’t understand how he lives with himself. I really don’t.”
“Shitty thing to do.”
“And…” Since we’re being honest. “You’re a wanderer. I…” Just say it. “Even if I’d wanted to go out with you, I just felt like you were going to pick up and leave any minute. Move on to the next gig. I can’t get involved with a man like that. It would destroy Rocco.”
“That’s fair. I haven’t settled anywhere since I left home. But I think it’s less about committing to a place or a job and more because I can’t stand that I lost my brother. I can’t seem to make peace with it.”
“So much for time healing all wounds.”
“It’s more like…it’ll hit me out of the blue. Zach’s gone. Someone will be talking about their plans for Christmas, and I’ll immediately think of home. I’ll get an image in my head, my mom, Zach…and then it just fucking guts me when I remember he’s gone, and I’ll never have that again.”
“God, Jinx.” She slid out of her booth and walked around to his side, getting in beside him. Girlfriend or not, this man needed a hug. Wrapping her arms around him, she felt the breadth of his shoulders, the hardness of his powerful frame, and the heat from his body.
He kept his arms down, but his head tilted, his chin resting on top of her head.
She just held him—so sorry for his loss and not knowing what could ever heal him. Where her arm pressed across his chest, she could feel the rapid beat of his heart.
It struck her—he needs to make new holiday memories. That’s what will heal him. He needs to stop wandering, fall in love, and have children, surround himself with love and the chaos of family.
And the moment she saw herself and Rocco in that portrait, she pulled away. She’d missed any chance of a relationship with this man, so it was stupid to fantasize about it. Settling back in her seat, she finished off her coffee. “Do you think Lori’s your person?”
He jerked so hard he practically dropped the knife he was using to spread jelly on his toast.
Why did you say that? “Sorry. That came out of nowhere.”
“No, it’s…” He set the knife down. “It’s new, me and Lori. It’s only been two months.”
“I get the feeling she’s all-in.”
He cracked a grin. “She’s…enthusiastic.”
“She’s got big plans for you.”
“She does.”
“I didn’t know you had those dreams.” Why would I? I’ve never given him the time of day.
“I don’t.”
“Okay, I’m confused. You don’t want to sell your paintings in galleries?”
“Not really. I like painting bikes. Mostly, I like the response I get. A guy comes to pick up his bike, and he breaks out in this big smile. Sometimes, he’ll tear up. It hits him hard, that he gets to keep this person or this accomplishment—whatever it is he wanted painted on his bike—close, and I like that.” He let out a slow breath. “Like today. That was…I wouldn’t want to give that up, you know? I can’t see doing anything more worthwhile with my life than that.”
Happiness went bubbly under her skin. She just liked him so much. “So, you’re not moving to New York?”
“No. I have no interest in living in a city that size.”
She smiled. “I don’t think Lori got the memo.”
“Honestly, we’ve never talked about it. This morning was the first I’ve heard of her plans.”
“She works there, though, right? I guess her time’s running out. She’s got to get back to her family’s gallery.”
“I guess so.”
Frustratingly, he gave away nothing. Not displeasure about Lori leaving or the hope that she’d stay. She wanted to ask. She had so many questions. But she couldn’t.
None of my business.
She picked up her fork and dug back into her eggs. “Let’s talk about your mom. What can you tell me about her?”
“Well, first of all…” He looked uncomfortable. “She doesn’t know you’re coming.”
That’s not good. “Because you think she’s happy with her life the way it is?”
“I’m about ninety-nine percent sure she isn’t happy, but she won’t do a damn thing to change it.”
She wished she had better news for him. “So, the thing is, my clients come to me. They want change. They’re desperate for it. There’s nothing I can do for someone who wants to keep things the same.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. It’s not that I’m looking for a miracle. I don’t think she’s going to meet you and suddenly discover a lust for life.”
“What are you looking for?”
“I just want you to be around her.”
She cocked her head. Why?
“You’re a positive person. You’re strong and you give off this…this energy…like anything’s possible. No matter how down you are, no matter how many wheels are stuck in a ditch, you make people feel like there’s a way out. Like they’ll be back on the road in no time.” He paused. “You did that for me.” He said it quietly, almost like he didn’t want her to hear.
Everything in her went soft and warm. “Jinx.” Sorrow…frustration…sat heavily on her chest. “I wish I’d been nicer to you. You have no idea.” But there was no point in dwelling on the past. “Okay, so, here’s what I think. I think we don’t push her to do anything. We just hang out with her and see if we can interest her in trying some new things.”
He looked relieved. �
�That sounds good.”
“What’s she like? What concerns you the most?”
Hope shone in his eyes, and the table trembled from the knee jackhammering beneath it. “When I was a kid, my mom was great. She’d work all day, but when she came home, she’d make us dinner, sit with us while we did our homework. But, every time my dad came home from a deployment, they’d fight. She didn’t want him re-upping, but he always did it anyway. Over time, I guess, she lost some of her spirit. There was this one fight, though, that changed her—I might’ve been ten, eleven? It was a blow-out. She said she couldn’t do this on her own anymore, that she wanted to move back to Oregon, where she at least had family to help her. After that, she took on more hours, stopped making us dinner. She was too tired to read to Zach before bed. She stopped taking care of herself. A couple years ago, I asked her what she’d have done if my dad had left the Army.”
“What’d she say?”
“That she’d wanted to work less. There’s an agency that matches nurses with temporary assignments. Like, someone has a heart attack, and they need an in-home nurse for a few days. She wanted to travel. And the big thing I remember her saying is that, once he was home for good, they could finally make some friends. With Dad gone, and Mom working and taking care of us, she didn’t have time to join…I don’t know…bunco groups or book clubs, whatever things married people do. She didn’t have the energy to go out for drinks with her coworkers. And she really wanted friends.”
Her heart hurt for this woman who’d not only lost her husband and son, but the kind of life she’d envisioned for herself. “So, maybe she’s a little introverted? Plenty of single, working moms have active social lives. Maybe your dad had a big personality? She relied on him for their social life?”
First, he seemed surprised. “Yes.” But then he looked mostly relieved. “That’s exactly right.”
“Okay, so, this is really good information. Let’s not take her to casinos or clubs. We can start out in places where she can have real conversations, make meaningful connections. Now, I obviously don’t know her at all, but I’m guessing she’s not going to jump up and down at the offer of a make-over or a new wardrobe. But, at the same time, she could probably use both of those to see herself in a new light. She’s stuck in a rut, and we have to give her a little nudge.”