Two Together

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Two Together Page 18

by Lisa Renee Jones


  I don’t ask what dirt. I don’t want to know. “Have you told Bennett about the dirty water?”

  “Not yet. They run an investment consortium as well. They sent me some trash dirty deal today. I know it was a test. They wanted to know if I would sell out for a buck.”

  The setup, I think. Jax set him up. “And you turned it down?” I say, pride swelling inside me.

  “Hell yeah I turned it down. I want in with Bennett to get clean, not dirtier.”

  “But the brand. Do you want to lose the brand?”

  “Sometimes being a part of something bigger and better is better. And hell, I need a moral compass like Grayson Bennett.”

  “You know, maybe it’s actually a good idea.”

  From there, we chat and laugh and lose track of time. We’re so deep in conversation that neither of us notice Jax’s approach until he sits down between us. I now have the two most important people in my life at one table, and my heart swells with the love I feel for these two men. “Jax,” I say, holding his hand. “Meet Chance. My brother who I love very much. Chance meet Jax, who I also love very much.”

  Jax’s eyes warm on me. He offers his hand to Chance, and Chance accepts it. “I turned down that junk deal I know you had Eric Mitchell offer me.”

  Jax’s brow lifts, no denial in him. “Did you now?”

  “I did. That merger is about escaping my father’s imprint on our business and our lives. And then replacing it with something better. Grayson Bennett.”

  From that point forward, the night is perfect.

  We head into the restaurant, and over North Whiskey, I listen to them talk about business, my father, Hunter. Me. They’re both worried about me. We end the evening with another bear hug between me and Chance and a scheduled meeting with an attorney to sign the castle over to Chance and back to Jax. No, we actually end the evening with me walking into the hotel room filled with shopping bags.

  “What is this?” I ask, scanning the bags that range from Chanel to Dior. “I didn’t think you’d want to go back to your apartment right now. Your computer and phone are on the couch as well. Savage got you a new number. He said it’s the safest move.”

  I forget the “safest” word right now. I just can’t go down that rabbit hole tonight. I rotate to face him and find him already right there, catching my waist. My rock. My hero. The man who just spent way too much money on me. “About the money.”

  “I have plenty of it. If you don’t get your inheritance, if you don’t want to work for Bennett, you don’t have to work ever again.”

  My defenses flare. Money and men don’t work for me. They suffocate me. “I don’t need your money, Jax. I don’t want your money. I want you.”

  “You’re sharing my life. What’s mine is yours, baby. I’m going to take you to the bank tomorrow.”

  “No—”

  He kisses me to cut off my protest. “Yes. Then if you are willing, I’d like to go back to Maine where we can create those holiday traditions.”

  I soften, the walls I’ve erected, falling away. I’ve let old demons step inside this room, and I mentally kick them right to the door. “I’d love that very much.”

  “How would you feel, and no pressure, how would you feel about me having a mover pack up your apartment? Are you ready for that?”

  “Oh yes. Yes, I’m ready. I want to go home, Jax. Our home, in Maine.”

  “That’s what I want to hear, baby. Why don’t we wrap up loose ends tomorrow and then do just that the day after tomorrow? Go home.”

  “I vote yes.”

  And so, my evening really does end like a perfect shiny diamond that emerged as a bright light in the center of the darkness. With it, I have hope that where there is one bright light, there are more.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Emma

  It’s like Christmas morning, and I’m the spoiled little girl in a brand-new silk robe surrounded by shopping bags.

  As resistant as I was to accept all the clothes and beauty supplies Jax bought me, waking up to the choice of Chanel or Dior or wait—Gucci—picked by a talented personal shopper is a luxurious experience. It’s also fun. And nothing I ever experienced, despite who my father was.

  While Jax showers, I go through each bag discovering all sorts of treasures here and there: makeup, a flat iron, a hairdryer, face creams, body creams. The clothes and purses blow me away. When one of those treasures turns out to be a Chanel flagship purse, the very one I’ve never dared splurge on, I squee just a little. I can’t help it.

  “Like it?”

  At the sound of Jax’s deep voice, I twist around to find him in the doorway to the bedroom looking scrumptious in faded jeans and a blue sweater that hugs his perfect chest. Which I know because I’ve inspected it quite closely. The color also deepens his always pale blue eyes, creating an ocean effect that has me floating in a sea of hot man. I stand up and hold the purse up. “I really wanted this, like really, really, badly for a really long time.” I set it down and round the couch, rushing to stand in front of him where I push to my toes and kiss him soundly on his sinful mouth.

  “Thank you,” I say. “It’s an extravagant gift, and I’m going to cherish it for many years to come.”

  His hand settles on my lower back, his touch possessive yet somehow tender. “I don’t want you to call what you need a gift anymore. We’re going to fix that today.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “You will.” His fingers walk my short silk robe up to my bare backside until he’s giving one cheek a squeeze. “And you do know what time it is, right? We meet Eric and Grayson in forty minutes.”

  “Oh, crap.” I twist away from him and rush toward the bags. When he dares laugh, I load him down with random items and head to the bathroom with him on my heels. I’ve now made Jax North my cabana boy, and I love it.

  ***

  Jax not only sends my doorman, Jimmie, by way of Walker Security, a new iPhone 11 to match the one Savage brought me, but he also includes a thousand dollars. Details I learn as I pull on my knee-high black boots to match my black jeans and black turtleneck.

  “That’s extremely generous,” I say.

  Jax shrugs into a thin black leather jacket. “He helped you in your time of need. Appreciation should be shown.”

  More and more, I realize, as he helps me into the new lightweight black dress jacket that I’d found in one of the many shopping bags, I understand that success doesn’t breed arrogance and a privileged attitude. Those things are choices. And I chose to surround myself with the wrong people. Until now.

  A knock sounds on the door. “I need to grab my new Chanel purse,” I say, grinning. “I’ll be right there.” I leave him to our visitor and dart into the bathroom, give my new purse a nice petting, and then slide it over my shoulder. I return to the living room to find Savage looking like his normal giant self, and standing with Jax in the center of the living room.

  They’re attention turns to me, with Savage taking the lead on delivering whatever news they have to deliver. “We’ve searched a three-hundred-mile radius for a plane that might have been your ride back to San Francisco in the timeline you made it back. It’s an eight-hour flight. The weather was shit. The only explanation is that you traveled by car from a distant airport.”

  “In other words,” I say, “we aren’t going to find our guy by way of a plane.”

  “That about sums the shit news up,” Savage replies, hands settling on his hips, a tattoo of some sort wrapping around his massive arm.

  “I think I need a tattoo like you, Savage,” I say. “Something like ‘I see dead people,’ so maybe I’ll scare away a future kidnapper.”

  Jax slides his arm around my shoulders and kisses my cheek. “No one is going to get to you again, baby. I won’t let that happen.”

  I believe he means that. I believe he’d lose his mind if someone grabbed me again. I also believe that my odds of waking up safe and sound in my own bed, a second time, would be ne
xt to zero.

  ***

  A few minutes later, we’re in a Walker driven SUV headed to the brunch location that I’d suggested last night when Jax setup our meeting with Eric and Grayson when Jax’s phone buzzes with a text. He glances at the message and then me. “Good news,” he says, and I hang on those words “good news.” I need some good news. “My attorney arranged for an attorney here to handle the contract signing with your brother.” He adds, “We’re a go for one o’clock today.”

  His version of good news and mine are not the same because an opportunity for him to be screwed out of his namesake is not good news. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  He strokes hair behind my ear. “Yes.” He kisses me and punches a number on his phone. “I’m calling Chance.”

  I sigh and fold my arms in front of me, listening as he and Chance coordinate the meeting details. I, in turn, text my brother: Do not burn Jax, or I will go Freddy Kruger on you. An important horror reference because, as kids, he was terrified of Freddy. Based on his response to Freddy Halloween masks, I’m fairly certain he still is.

  Jax lowers his phone and twists his head to look at me. “Are you text threatening your brother right this minute?”

  My chin lifts defiantly. “Yes,” I say. “He’s my brother. If I want to threaten him, that’s my prerogative.” Jax grins and shakes his head, before continuing with his conversation.

  When he finally puts away his phone, my brother returns my message: Freddy? Really, sis? You know just how to go for a guy’s balls. I promise not to disappoint you. Trust me. You used to.

  The driver pulls up to the restaurant, and I shove my cell into my purse, choosing to just let the contract stuff go for the moment. To prove my point, I focus on the good stuff. “You’ll love the muffins,” I declare. “They’re delicious.”

  Jax leans in close, near my ear, and murmurs, “I’d rather eat you.” He straightens with a grin and adds, “But I’ll settle for muffins for now.”

  Heat burns low in my belly at his easy flirtation, but I play it cool. I also play the shocked school girl quite well, I think. “You’re dirty, sir,” I say primly.

  He laughs, and his laugh, all low and sultry, does nothing to cool my now heated skin. “And you like it,” he murmurs, kissing my neck. Savage chooses that moment to open the back door, a chilly breeze kissed with salt rushes over me.

  Eager to escape said breeze, I scoot across the seat, or I try to. Jax catches my arm. “Just so you know, he held his private plane for me to be able to get to you. He then detoured to San Francisco and I’m pretty sure at the expense of dealing with his own business crisis. On top of that, Eric’s an ex-SEAL who was ready to fight if that’s what it took to save you.”

  Emotion pings my chest, both with this show of generosity and what I know was Jax’s urgency, even desperation, to rescue me. “I’m eager to thank them both,” I say, already contemplating a thoughtful gift for each and hoping for ideas over lunch.

  “I knew you would be,” he says, releasing my arm, and this time, when I scoot across the seat, he allows me to exit the vehicle, quickly joining me. The wind is practically gusty today, as it often can be in San Francisco, and I huddle into my new black jacket, thankful for my warm turtleneck that won’t let the air torture my skin.

  Jax exchanges a few words with Savage and then curls his arm around me, ushering me toward the door. A few seconds later, we’re escorted to the table where Grayson and Eric await, both men standing to greet us. Both men are wearing jeans and Bennett Enterprises collared shirts. “Thank God, you’re okay Emma,” Grayson greets me from across the table, his dark wavy hair a bit unruly and somehow this only makes the warmth in his eyes all the more friendly. Billionaires, in my experience, are rarely so easily approachable, especially good-looking billionaires like Grayson Bennett.

  “We were ready to call in the cavalry,” Eric adds as we all sit down. “And Jax here was losing his mind.”

  “I can’t thank either of you enough for all you did,” I respond quickly, grateful for their help and the coffee a waitress automatically pours in my cup, a perk of being a regular. “Especially since I wasn’t exactly kind to you, Eric.”

  Eric eyes me over the rim of his cup. “You were defending your family. I like that in a person.” He sips and adds, “If the family deserves it.”

  If he hopes to stir defensiveness in me, he’s likely disappointed because my reply is, “They definitely need to deserve it.”

  Jax pours cream in my coffee, and then his, that intimate understanding of each other’s ways represents stirring a sense of belonging with him in me that I find equals happiness. He makes me happy. “We met with Chance last night,” Jax offers. “It was not what I expected, but in a good way.”

  “He turned down the deal Eric offered him,” Grayson comments.

  Jax sips his coffee. “He knew I was behind it, which I suppose we all should have expected. He’s sharper than I realized.”

  I elbow him. “He’s a smart man.”

  Jax laughs. “I know that, baby.”

  Grayson seizes the door I’ve just opened and asks, “But is he honest?”

  Despite my text threat to Chance, I don’t even hesitate in my reply. “Yes. In fact, he wants to merge with your brand because of you, Grayson. Because he wants that moral high ground. He wants to be a part of something bigger and better.”

  Eric arches a brow and looks at Jax. “How do you feel about that claim?” he asks.

  “After last night,” Jax says, “I believe him.”

  “I do, too,” I say, “but he’s inherited a lot of my father’s bad business. He promised me that he’d talk to you about that problem with full disclosure. If he doesn’t—”

  “He did,” Eric says, quickly thanking the waitress for a coffee refill, before he adds, “Or he plans to. He called me this morning and we spoke briefly. We’re meeting before I leave town, but he made it clear that was the hot topic on the agenda.”

  Relief, that I hate that I feel, washes over me. My reaction and my text this morning tell a story. Some part of me still doesn’t fully trust Chance, but he’s done much to deserve my mistrust.

  “Where do you see yourself in the merger, Emma?” Grayson asks.

  My gaze catches Jax’s, that same question burning in his stare. My lips curve with a smile as I say, “In Maine,” and then with a small laugh I add, “Trying to learn how to finish a glass of whiskey and still stand up straight.”

  The table erupts in laughter while Jax’s fingers lace with mine, intimate and right in every way; his silent approval for my answer is all that matters. I’m going home. With him.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Emma

  We leave the restaurant to find Savage, once again, leaning on the SUV, waiting for our return. I hand Savage a bag filled with muffins. “Enjoy, big boy,” I say, climbing into the back seat, with Jax following right behind me.

  A few minutes later, we pull up to the Knight offices and the impact of our arrival for me is surreal. This is it, I realize. Nothing will ever be the same after today. My brother is going to go through with this merger. I’m moving to Maine. I may never work another day in this building. This place has been my life: the good, bad, and in between.

  “You okay?” Jax asks, squeezing my leg.

  I give a small nod. “Yeah. Just leaving this place behind is strange.” I shrug and look at him. “But it’s not going to be the same here anyway, and I’m not sure why I’d want it to be.”

  “We can get an apartment here, Emma.”

  His offer slides from his lips with such ease and sincerity that it’s as if he cares little of the consequences to himself and his business. But I do. “No,” I say firmly. “You have an empire to run. And I can’t watch how you do it from here.” Savage opens my door, and I place a peck on Jax’s freshly shaven, baby butt smooth cheek. “Let’s go do this. We’ll close a chapter and then start a whole new book.”

  His blue eyes warm with
appreciation, amber flecks of sunshine from the open door, catching in their depth. “That sounds like an excellent plan, baby.”

  It is an excellent plan, but that does nothing to dissolve my nerves over this contract signing. I pray my brother does right by us all. I exit to the street and Jax is quick to join me. His big strong hand settles possessively on my back, his touch somehow bringing me down a notch. Okay, half a notch.

  “Should I join you?” Savage asks. “I have yet to hang that toad, Randall, up by his toes. This could be the day.”

  Laughter bubbles from my throat. “Thank you for that visual that I will cherish the entire time I’m in this building.”

  Jax slides his arm around me. “Eat your muffins, Savage. We got this.” Jax rotates us, and we start walking, only to have Savage call out, “I inhaled them. Blueberry rocks my world.”

  Jax and I burst into joint laughter. “I do believe I’ll miss him when he’s gone,” I say. “Is he coming back to Maine with us?”

  “I asked him to stay through at least Thanksgiving.”

  What he doesn’t say is that he’s having him stay on to ensure that I don’t end up drugged by another masked man. I don’t say it either. I’d rather think of Randall, the toad, hung up by his toes.

  ***

  My brother’s assistant, Becca, a pretty blonde who is all business and quite efficient, greets Jax and I at the elevator on the executive floor. “Your attorney’s already in the conference room.”

  “What about Chance?” I ask.

  She purses her lips. “Dealing with some crisis at the Denver location. Apparently, the manager has been stealing from us.”

  I don’t gasp. This is the way of life in the hotel business. You just take the blows on the chin. “Just feed him cookies and he’ll be fine,” I say, catching Jax’s arm. “We’ll be in the conference room when he’s ready.” I tug Jax to the left, and Becca calls out, “I ordered chocolate chip.”

  I smile and glance at Jax. “He eats cookies when he’s stressed, which explains why he jogs five miles a day. He’s always stressed.”

 

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