“Integrity being so important to you, I know this can’t be easy, Aja. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who believed in the truth as much as I do. Going against your instincts must be playing havoc with your mind right now.”
She dropped her eyes as if they were too heavy to keep his gaze. The image of her downcast lids in the soft light of the kitchen with her long ebony lashes sweeping the apples of her cheeks nearly broke him. Her beauty and sadness were tied together in an intricate pattern of twists and swirls, making it impossible to see where one ended and the other began.
The sight of her like this unnerved him; it made him reach for her. He pulled his hand from her shoulder and cupped the side of her face.
He took a moment to consider her, to contemplate how many ways this decision would come back to bite them both on the ass, and while his mind screamed for him to get away, her tongue swept across her full bottom lip and he was lost.
Suddenly, he needed to know what her bare flesh would feel like pressed against his, or how that wicked mouth of hers would taste when he tangled his tongue with hers. He groaned before leaning down and joining their lips together.
The kiss was fleeting, over in a matter of seconds. But the way heat surged through his veins and seeped into his flesh made his body burn from the inside out.
He wanted to reach down and steal another, but the way she looked at him, her dark eyes bright with wonder and a mix of something he didn’t quite recognize gave him pause. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ha—”
“I’m not.” She placed a firm hand behind his neck and pulled him forward. Her movements were adept and intentional. Her lips pressed against his without the slightest bit of concern or reservation. She wanted to taste him. Her kisses, demanding, tempting, and filled with fire, made it impossible for him to let common sense intervene.
He pulled her closer into his embrace, their bodies touching while their mouths feasted on each other. His fingers delighted in the softness of her plush curves. A desperate moan escaped his lips, and he could feel his body tightening behind the godforsaken constraint of his denim zipper. If the fire between them didn’t consume him, his jeans would probably injure him for life.
That thought alone should’ve been enough to douse his burning arousal, but it didn’t. Knowing Aja tasted like sweetness and spice—like a deep, rich cognac aged to perfection, potent and smooth at the same time—kept him bound to her. He wanted more.
He slid his hand down from her waist until he had a handful of her ass in his palm. If Jackson Dean wasn’t an ass man before, he certainly was now. Wide and firm and yet still soft, even through the stiff material of her jeans, it molded perfectly to the shape of his palm.
Stop this now, Dean, before you have her spread over the floor. Have more respect for her than that.
He gentled their kiss, moving his mouth from hers, placing sweet pecks on her chin, each of her cheeks, and then her forehead. She burrowed the side of her face into his chest like she was seeking warmth and comfort, and his need to hold her, and hold on to her, burned deeper than before.
Then, he’d simply guessed at how good it would feel to touch her. Now that he knew something as simple as her kiss could send him up in flames, he wasn’t certain he could willingly walk away.
Standing in her kitchen with their bodies wrapped around each other, Jackson wasn’t sure of the tactful way to disengage from a woman who had effectively set his soul on fire with merely the touch of her lips. He didn’t dwell too much on either because he saw something move in the shadows outside.
He didn’t want to alarm Aja, so he gave her a light squeeze and whispered in her ear, “Do you get any animals close to the house?”
She cleared her throat and looked up at him. “No. Closer to the edge of the property, but never near the occupied buildings.”
He glanced briefly out the window and saw what appeared to be the shape of a man crouching near the side of the porch. He kept her in his arms, not wanting to tip his hand to whoever it was lurking in the bushes, and whispered again, “I’m gonna check on things. Lock the door behind me. If I’m not back in ten minutes, call Colton and Storm to come to the house.”
He could see the worry in her furrowed brow and the tight lines around her mouth. He gave her a quick peck before he released her. “Do what I ask, please.”
She silently stepped aside while he grabbed the shotgun he’d placed in the broom closet behind the door when she told him to settle in and get comfortable. Grateful that she was cooperating, he stepped through the doorway, closing it behind him and waiting until he heard the click of the lock turning before he crossed the porch and headed in the direction of where he saw the shadow moving.
He padded through the grass with his weapon held at the ready, the mounted flashlight atop the barrel lighting his way. He watched the large bush on the side of the porch move and aimed the barrel where the leaves fluttered, using the mounted flashlight at the weapon’s front end to cut through the thick night.
“Unless you walk on four legs, you’d better ease on outta that bush. Hands up where I can see them.” The motion shuffling the leaves stopped. Jackson pumped his weapon to let whoever was in those bushes know he meant business. “You either come out, or I shoot.”
“P-please, don’t shoot.”
Jackson moved the gun slightly to the left, focusing the flashlight’s beam on where he saw the shrubbery parting. “Let me see those hands!” The person shoved their hands through the leaves, palm side up with their fingers spread wide.
First, his hands were visible, then one leg at a time, finally followed by his head and torso. Jackson saw dark, shoulder-length wavy hair. The man was either white or Latinx—from this distance and with the poor lighting in the backyard, he couldn’t tell which yet. He was slim and nearly four or five inches shorter than Jackson’s six feet, two inches, and he seemed to be appropriately frightened by Jackson’s threat to fire.
“Pl-please, don’t shoot! I’m supposed to be here. If you’d let me reach in my back pocket—”
“Not on your life. Make your way up the steps to the porch and get on your knees.” The man followed his instructions. “Lay prostrate, then slowly toss whatever you wanted to show me behind you.”
He did as instructed, tossing a wallet behind him. “My name is Mat Ryan; Ms. Everett invited here me. Sh-she is expecting me.”
“If she invited you, then what were you doing sneaking around like some prowler in her bushes?”
“I dropped my phone.”
Jackson was about to ask another question when he heard the click of the lock and saw Aja opening the door. “Aja, go back inside until I know it’s safe.”
“Jackson, put the gun away!” She dashed in front of him, kneeling on the floor to help the stranger up.
“Aja, what are you doing?” Jackson lowered the barrel of the gun and fought to keep himself from snatching her up by her neck. What kind of crazy game was she playing at?
“Hopefully, I’m keeping you from killing this harmless soul.” Once she and the stranger were standing, they both faced Jackson. “Jackson Dean, my new foreman, please meet Mat Ryan, Brooklyn and Seneca’s parole officer.”
Chapter 9
Aja placed a warm cup of tea in front of Mat as he sat shivering at the kitchen table. A quick glance at the digital thermostat on the wall told her the poor man’s body wasn’t shaking because it was cold, so she assumed the big Texas Ranger sitting across the room terrified him.
Aja squinted her eyes and gave the best scowl she could to Jackson. He was leaning against the counter with wide, bulging arms folded across his chest while he mean-mugged poor Mat. An angry curled lip and a low growl slipping between clenched teeth were all that was missing from the menacing picture.
She put her hand on her hip and tilted her head to the side, doing her best imitation of Aunt Jo’s I’m-not-too-please
d-with-you-right-now look. But Jackson didn’t seem to care about her displeasure. The only thing his sharp features appeared concerned with was scaring Mat to death.
“Tell me again how you ended up creeping around in the backyard at this hour of the night.”
“Jackson—”
He held up his fingers, silencing her in her own damn kitchen. Who the hell does he think he is? This is my house. She was about to tell him the same when she heard her uncle’s voice sounding off inside her head. “Do what he says, Aja. Don’t give him any trouble.”
She folded her own arms and continued to glare at the belligerent Ranger standing across the room.
“I was supposed to meet with Ms. Everett and her charges yesterday morning for a home-and-community meeting for Ms. Daniels and Ms. Osborn. She rescheduled for this evening. Appointments that ran over delayed my arrival. I called Ms. Everett to reschedule, but she told me to come no matter what the hour. I had my phone in my hand as I walked from my visit with Ms. Daniels and Ms. Osborn at their residence. It slipped through my fingers and landed in the bushes. I was attempting to retrieve it when you found me.”
Aja smoothed a comforting hand over Mat’s shoulder, hoping to soothe the anxiety Jackson was causing the man. “I can verify everything Mat says, and I’m sure Seneca and Brooklyn will too. He’s not trespassing, simply clumsy.”
If Jackson knew Mat like she did, he would understand how typically Mat this story really was. Over the year he’d visited Restoration to check on Seneca and Brooklyn, he was always tripping over one thing or another, especially if Brooklyn was around. Seeing her always seemed to make his clumsiness worse. If something could cause him to break his neck, he’d make contact with it in the most awkward way. It was honestly a miracle the man hadn’t broken or sprained something while conducting his check-ins with her workers.
Aja ignored Jackson’s semipermanent frown and softened her features as she looked at Mat. “Please forgive Jackson. He’s doing his best to prove he’s the best foreman ever hired. Don’t let him worry you.”
Mat gave her a trembling smile and took a sip of his tea. When he finished, he looked up at her. His smile read a little less panicked and closer to his standard level of everyday nervous instead.
“My visits with Ms. Daniels and Ms. Osborn went well. I need you to sign the review forms I emailed to you, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
She snapped her fingers, remembering where she’d placed them, and walked over to the small cove in the kitchen where she dropped mail, bills, or anything important when she entered the house. She looked in a pile marked Outgoing, flipping through a few pages until she found the packet of forms she was looking for.
“Here you go.” She handed the forms to Mat. He folded them, grabbed the wallet sitting on the table that Jackson had demanded when Mat was facedown on the floor, and offered her a shaky smile, one filled with more fear than warmth.
“It’s getting late, Ms. Everett. I don’t want to outstay my welcome. I’ll call you if there’s anything more I need.”
Aja glanced back at Jackson, mustering as much cold as she could in her sharp glare before she turned back to an already retreating Mat. “Mat, please call me Aja. You’re welcome to stay for another cup of tea. There’s even a slice of pineapple coconut cake if you give me a second to cut it.”
Mat shifted his eyes from her to somewhat beyond her shoulder before he shook his head. She didn’t have to guess what or who had captured his attention. “I really must go. Thank you for your hospitality. I’ll call you soon.”
A few quick steps and he was at the door, twisting the knob back and forth until he could finally get it open. Before she could raise her hand to wave goodbye, Mat closed the door behind him with a sound thud and disappeared into the night.
She turned on her heels slowly until she faced Jackson. “You could’ve at least apologized to the man.”
“For what, exactly?”
“Treating him like a criminal without cause.”
Jackson shook his head, dismissing her claim. “Not how I see it. He was sneaking around your property at night. Any fool would know that’s the easiest way to end up on the wrong end of a rifle in these parts. I don’t trust him.”
She threw up her hands and walked toward the stairs. “You are paranoid. Mat is harmless.”
“Mat could be a serial killer for all you know. Just because a man appears meek and mild doesn’t make him a saint.”
Aja waved her hand and rolled her eyes. Arguing with this man would take more energy than she had to spare. Rather than allow him to pluck her nerves anymore, she decided going up to her room was the best solution to end this debate with no bloodshed.
“So.” The deep rumble of his voice halted her steps. “Is there really pineapple coconut cake, or were you telling Mat that to make him feel better?”
“Are you really asking me for cake right now?”
He held his hands out wide. “What? I like pineapple coconut cake.”
The beginnings of a headache throbbed behind her eyes. She pressed stiff fingers against her temples, trying to relieve the dull, stabbing pain twisting the muscles of her neck and eyes tighter with the passing of each moment.
“Lord have mercy! You cannot be asking me for cake as if we’re two regular acquaintances retiring for the night. I have worked with that man for a year. He’s been nothing but supportive to the women who work for me. He’s helping them change their lives. And tonight you possibly destroyed all the work, all the goodwill we’ve all strived to create. Yes, there’s pineapple coconut cake. It’s damn good cake too. But I will not reward bad behavior. So as far as you’re concerned, no, there’s no cake.”
“I was trying to protect you, Aja.”
She shook her head, a stupid move considering the dull ache throbbing inside it. “Jackson, going out there and subduing him was you protecting me, but the overbearing ogre thing you had going on afterward had nothing to do with that. He was obviously not a threat then. Yet you were practically growling at him.”
She was still trying to figure out what that was about. Every time she showed Mat any kindness, Jackson’s mood seem to sour further. It was odd considering there was usually some professional respect between law-enforcement officers. But his speech along with his body language made it clear Mat was an unwelcome guest.
She waited for him to admit his mistake. Any reasonable person would have. But seeing him intimidate poor Mat that way rubbed her patience raw like an ill-fitting shoe against the back of her ankle.
It was painful, something she couldn’t ignore, and watching that sweet man cower in fear as Jackson behaved so badly made her blood boil with unspoken rage.
Doing his job was fine, but bullying wasn’t. And if he treated Mat that way, a man with no negative marks on his record, how far would he go with people like Seneca and Brooklyn? Women whose pasts were checkered, who were judged harshly by their mistakes.
She’d made a terrible mistake by kissing this man. Letting her guard down again in front of him was something she could ill afford. Not if she wanted to protect Seneca and Brooklyn from being on the receiving end of his brand of hard judgment.
Chapter 10
Jackson stood behind the guest bedroom door with his hands planted on his waist, contemplating his next move. He’d fucked up big time. After a rough night’s sleep, attempting to figure out how things had gone from the cozy warmth of their kiss to the chilly end of their night, he worried about what awaited him on the other side of the door.
If Mat hadn’t shown up when he did, things might’ve continued down another path, a path that led him to pineapple coconut cake and, if he were lucky, more satisfying treats than Aja’s baked goods.
Jackson shook his head. He didn’t regret securing the scene last night until he was certain Mat wasn’t a threat. But Aja was right—the way he’d gone out of his wa
y to let Mat know he wasn’t welcome crossed a line. He wasn’t even certain why the sight of the slight man all hunched over at Aja’s kitchen table, accepting her tea and hospitality, made him so goddamned mad.
All he knew was he wasn’t able to let go of the fire that seemed to burn inside him with red, angry flames licking at his soul as he watched her rub Mat’s shoulder.
It was comfort. Logically he understood that. But a few seconds before Mat interrupted them, Jackson had been exercising his own form of comfort with Aja. And he didn’t know if he was conflating the two, but the idea that she could comfort Mat the same way Jackson sought to soothe her made him lose his fool mind.
“No sense putting this off. Time to go downstairs and man up.”
He turned the knob and took the back stairs to the kitchen. If Aja was anywhere in this house at this hour of the morning, she’d be there.
The rich aroma of fresh coffee was the first thing his sleep-deprived brain noticed, followed by the savory scents of various breakfast meats.
God, this woman knows the key to a Texas boy’s heart.
He found her standing at the stovetop. From his vantage point, he couldn’t tell what she was cooking, but the inviting aroma tickled his nose and made his mouth water. “Smells great in here.”
She didn’t turn around. Simply offered him a quick “Morning” as she continued monitoring the sizzling pans in front of her.
He caught a glimpse of the spread already taking up residence on the counter. There were chafing dishes marked Bacon, Sausage, Salmon Cakes, Grits, Oatmeal, Eggs, and Fruit, accompanied by a large bowl filled with yogurt cups on ice.
“Morning,” he responded. “Looks like you’re expecting an army.”
She offered him a wide grin and the sight of it relaxed the knot sitting in the pit of his stomach, untwisting it one complicated loop after another. Maybe I haven’t screwed things up as badly as I thought.
“With you and your men added to our ranks, and your dad’s security consultation firm coming, I figured variety and volume were called for. You or your men didn’t mention any food restrictions. In case any of you are vegan or lactose intolerant, I used soy milk in the oatmeal and plant butter in the grits. I put everything in separate chafing dishes with designated serving utensils on the off chance any of you might have food allergies. I can whip up some avocado toast, too, if any of you want it.”
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