Even though she was small, I let out an “Uff” of surprise at the solid hit she’d landed.
Immediately she started babbling. “Daddy! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I couldn’t slow down—”
“It’s okay. But from here on out keep that speed down until you’ve learned forward stops, okay?”
She nodded.
“You and your mom can head to the changing room.”
And like her mother, Mimi opened her mouth to argue, probably to tell me she wasn’t a baby and didn’t need help getting undressed. But at the last second, she nodded again and carefully walked across the mats to the locker rooms. Lucy took her hand and they turned the corner.
As soon as they were gone, Gabi, our crabby rink guide from earlier, skated toward me.
“I thought your daughter would be more advanced,” she said without preamble.
“She’s eight. How advanced could she be?”
She shrugged. “Some people start their kids when they’re like three.”
“Then hockey is the parent’s choice not the kid’s. I didn’t assume she’d love hockey just because I did. Her wanting to try it just came up.”
“She’s lucky we have openings. Usually we’re full. All leagues, all ages.”
When I researched this place a little deeper last night after Lucy had gone to bed, I noticed the eight-year-old age bracket was the only one without a full roster. I’d wait to see if my suspicions were correct about that.
“I sent all the enrollment forms to the email address on your application. Bring them filled out when you come to skills class on Wednesday afternoon.”
“No problem.”
“You should remember that parental observation means observation only. No coaching from the stands.”
Her brusqueness started to bug me, especially since Margene had been so helpful and friendly. “What level do you teach?”
“Why? Are you afraid you’ll get me as your daughter’s coach?”
“Afraid? Not hardly. I’m just curious if you’re coaching younger kids or older. If you’re part of the community skate or the club skate.”
“I’m assistant coach to the fourteen-year-old club skaters. I also assist with the newbie classes.”
“So you will be working with Mimi.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “I assist with the open eight-year-old class, which is boys and girls, not the closed girls’ eight-year-old class.”
“We’re putting Mimi in the open class, not the girls’ class.” I smiled at her shocked expression. “Thanks for all your help, Coach Gabi. See you Wednesday.”
Even after my short conversation with Gabi, I still beat Mimi out of the locker room. Once she emerged, yawning and holding her mother’s hand while Lucy carried her equipment bag, I couldn’t help but pick her up and carry her out to the car. Pretty soon Mimi would be too big for a “daddy carry,” so I’d take it every chance I could.
We’d barely turned out of the parking lot and Mimi was sound asleep. Poor kid. It’d been a rough couple of days for her and she needed a nap.
I looked at Lucy. “Should we let her sleep? Or will that mess with her schedule?”
“If she’s that tired then she needs it.”
“Agreed. You want me to just drive around aimlessly? Or did you have a specific destination in mind?”
“I want to see the bar you own.”
Shit. “Why? It’s not open on Sunday.”
“I wasn’t asking you to swing by because I need a cocktail, Jax. I just want to see where it’s located.”
“Sure, if you’d rather drive through the city and not alongside the Mississippi River, leaf peeping at the beautiful fall foliage . . .”
“I’ve already done that. I want to see the place where you’ll be spending so much time.”
I should’ve been more prepared for this since I’d owned the building for almost three years.
This is just another secret you’ve been keeping from her, and she’ll be pissed off about it. And maybe freaked out because it is sort of fucking creepy that you bought—
“Jaxson.”
Her sharp intonation brought me out of my merry-go-round of thoughts. “Sorry.”
“What were you thinking about just now?”
“Wondering if I had my building keys so I could take you inside if you changed your mind.” Christ. Lying came so easy to me.
“A drive-by is fine. So chop-chop, Lund. Get a move on.”
I laughed. “You’ve been waiting all damn day for the chance to say that to me, haven’t you?”
“Yep.”
We didn’t talk during the drive, which cranked up my nervousness.
When we turned the corner, Lucy’s back snapped straight. I inched past the first building on the block and parallel parked in front of the second building.
Lucy didn’t look at me when she said, “You’re joking.”
“Not even a little.”
“But this is . . .”
“Mine. My building. My business.”
“It’s the same sign.”
“I didn’t change the name either.”
She stared out the window for the longest time before she spoke again. “Who knows about this place?”
“In my family? Everyone. But no one, not even my business partner Simone, knows the real reason I bought it.”
“Why did you buy it?”
“Because I could.”
“Don’t be flip. Not now.”
I sighed. “You’re really gonna make me say it, Lucy?”
“You’re goddamned right I am, Lund,” she snapped.
“Because this was our secret spot. It was the first place we were together and the last place I remember being happy before everything went to hell in my life. I thought it might be a talisman. If I owned it then maybe I could own my life again. Maybe I could find my way back to a happier place.” Maybe I could find my way back to you.
I paused to breathe. “Fucked-up logic, but true. I thought I could buy happiness.”
The wait for her to say something was excruciating.
Without meeting my gaze, she said, “I need some air,” and bolted out of the car.
Eleven
LUCY
After I scrambled out of Jax’s car I felt ridiculous for saying I “needed some air” like a Victorian maiden with a case of the vapors.
But I had to take a moment to think.
I continued down the sidewalk at a decent clip. As I bypassed a couple, I offered a friendly smile that must’ve looked as fake and as panicked as it felt.
Just ignore the woman racing down the sidewalk, with no idea where she’s going except away from her ex, who just informed her that he’d bought the bar they’d once considered theirs. That’s not unusual at all. Neither is the fact the man also bought the apartment building she lives in and is taking the entire top floor. Totally normal, right?
God. Didn’t Jax see that this situation was more than a little fucked up? I had a right to freak out.
Except did he freak out when he discovered you’d applied to work in his family’s business?
Whoa. That thought almost brought me to a dead stop. I hadn’t even considered how Jax might’ve reacted when I took the job at LI. What would be the mature reaction in this scenario? Believe Jax’s claim that he’d bought the bar to remind himself of the good times with me?
True, we’d had lots of good times in Borderlands when we were a couple. Drinking. Dancing. Laughing. Mooning around in our own little world where no one recognized him. I hadn’t understood his need for privacy until I learned who he was.
Stopping, I glanced up at the Borderlands sign. The big reveal had happened right here in this bar, a decade ago. But that night was still as vivid in my mind as if it’d happened last night . . .
/>
* * *
• • •
And we meet again . . .” I smirked and sang, “at a place where no-body knows your na-a-ame . . . Including your date.”
He smiled. “I’ll spare your ears and not sing the next verse from your modified rendition of the Cheers theme song.” He clasped my hand in his and said, “We’re back here.”
After we sat down, I looked around the dive bar. Didn’t seem like his kind of joint. “Do you come here often?”
“First time.”
“I feel overdressed.”
“You shouldn’t.” He leaned over and kissed the corner of my mouth. “You look fucktacular.”
“Fucktacular?”
“Uh-huh.” His mouth migrated to my ear. “The definition of that word requires a physical demonstration, which I’d be happy to show you.”
I shivered. The heat from his body, his breath, his words . . . the man wreaked sexy havoc, and I couldn’t wait until he unleashed himself on me fully.
“Jax—”
“I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?” He retreated and smiled down at me. “Feel like drinking something other than beer tonight?”
I feel like drinking you down until I’m drowning in you. Until you’re seeping into my pores and filling me back up again. And again.
Those startling blue eyes narrowed. “Hold that thought.”
“Even if it’s urgent?” I said huskily. “Or dirty?”
“Hold it close and tight and hard, especially if it’s urgently dirty.”
I giggled. Giggled. God. I never giggled.
“You, my beautiful Lucy Q, stay put. I’ll be right back.”
I remained standing so I could watch the muscles in that high and firm ass of his shift and pull against his jeans as he strode away. Then I felt like a perv and glanced around the bar to see if anyone had been watching me lust after my man.
Your man?
Yes, my man, I retorted to my snarky subconscious. So what if it was only the fifth date. So what if I didn’t know his last name. For the past month and at least for tonight, that hot, hunky man was mine. I’d unlock my neuroses tomorrow.
It wasn’t long after I’d seated myself that Jax returned with two clear glasses.
That’s when I noticed the bartender carried an ice bucket and set it on the table next to Jax’s chair. The bottle had already been uncorked, so he didn’t stick around.
“Champagne? What are we celebrating?”
Jax brushed his lips over the shell of my ear. “Us.”
Oh damn. That was really sweet.
He sat and reached for the champagne, filling my flute first and then his.
I lifted my glass, waiting for him to say something else sweet, or funny, or sexual, but he appeared at a loss for words, so I jumped in first. “To dirty cars, annoying cell phone conversations, to food and art and fun . . . all the things that have made us . . . us.”
“Perfect.”
We touched our glasses together and drank. “Wow. I wouldn’t have thought a place like this stocked good champagne.”
“I think it’s been gathering dust since the building was finished last century.”
I laughed. “It’s very well aged then.” I drained the remainder and held my glass out for more.
“Do you get tipsy from champagne?”
“Yep. That’s the fun part of drinking it fast.” I swallowed another mouthful. “I like how if fizzes on my tongue and then that fizzy sensation spreads throughout my body. No wonder they call it bubbly. That’s how I feel when I drink it.”
Before I took another sip, Jax moved my hand off to the side and leaned in so we were nose to nose. “I want to taste that fizzy, bubbly happiness on you, Lucy. Take another drink but don’t swallow.”
My internal temperature jumped to the combustible stage. Without breaking our sexy eye-fuck, I brought the flute to my lips. But I didn’t tip it up and drink right away. Instead I traced the rim of the glass with the tip of my tongue.
Jax was so close to me that I felt his deep growl vibrate down my throat.
Oh, hello, sexy beast. That was the first time I’d ever caused a man to make that desperate, greedy sound, and I really, really liked it.
Was there anything better than this powerful feeling of being wanted?
I tipped the glass and filled my mouth.
Then Jax’s lips were on mine as he curled his hand around the front of my throat, holding me in place. His coaxing kisses had me parting my lips, and he slipped his tongue into my mouth.
Cold fizzes of sweetness dancing on my tongue gave way to a deep suctioning pull that I felt between my legs as Jax sucked the champagne from my mouth into his. After he swallowed, he spoke against my lips. “Mmm. Sweet, wet and sticky.” His kisses were deceptively erotic, a soft glide of his lips across mine, punctuating each word as he maintained his hold on me.
Maybe the champagne had gone to my head, because I heard myself say, “Now I’m sweet, wet and sticky somewhere else.” I nipped his lower lip. “One guess where that might be.”
“What do I get if I guess right?” he murmured as his lips toyed with mine.
“A taste of that too.”
He groaned. “Jesus. We have to stop. I’m about to fuck you right here.”
“Offering the patrons of Borderlands a live sex show? We’d never be welcome in here again.”
“It’d be worth it.”
I laughed softly. “Your challenge for me tonight was to experience something new. So bring out the exhibitionist in me, baby.”
His mouth crashed down on mine.
This kiss was pure lust and I reveled in it. In him. In this moment.
Jax broke the kiss.
My eyes flew open and clashed with his.
“This passion is us too, Lucy.”
“I know.”
Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, and he gifted me with a lingering smooch before his hand fell away from my neck.
He refilled our glasses, and I was surprised to see we’d almost killed the bottle.
“Drink up. Then we’ll dance.”
I peered over his shoulder. There was an open area ringed by tables, and music was coming from somewhere, but I’d be hard pressed to call it a dance floor. “Jax. I don’t think—”
“What will they do? Throw us out?” He tugged me to my feet. “I’d rather get tossed out for lewd behavior, so I’ll let you choose.”
“Dirty dancing it is.” I poked him in the chest. “For now.”
He granted me that sexy grin.
The first song was a soulful, bluesy jazz ballad probably from the ’80s. We swayed together, adjusting our feet and hands and body movements. By the time the second song started, we were in sync. By the third song—yet another soulful slow piece, I had my arms twined around his neck and I felt a hard ridge pressing into my stomach.
“You move really well, Jax. Like you’re aware of what every part of your body is doing at all times. So I’m thinking you might be a stripper.”
He chuckled. “Would it bother you if I was?”
“Nope. I’d just demand a private show because your ass would look outstanding framed in one of those fancy silk jockstrap thingies. Do you have one?” I asked hopefully.
“No way. But I do have to wear a cup nearly every day.”
“I think the time has come, Jaxson, to tell me what you do for a living.”
He lowered his head and trailed his lips down my neck and then back up to my ear.
I held my breath, dizzy from lack of oxygen and from the drugging kisses he bestowed on me.
Finally he murmured, “I’m a professional hockey player.”
“For real?”
“For real.”
“No wonder you have such a fucktacular body.”
“No?”
“That’s not very convincing.”
“I’ve never dated an athlete, let alone an elite athlete.” Then something occurred to me and I yanked on his hair. Hard.
“What the hell?”
“That’s for humiliating me at shuffleboard, Mr. Professional Hockey Player.”
Jax chuckled. “Yeah, that wasn’t nice, but it sure was fun.”
When the song ended, I untangled myself from him.
He kept his hand on my ass as we returned to our table. Then he set his hand on my thigh after we sat down. The man excelled at multitasking; he poured more champagne as his fingers crept up the inside of my thigh in a sweeping caress.
I snapped my knees together, trapping his hand.
Jax’s gaze met mine and he raised one eyebrow.
“I’m loud when I come. I figured you needed to know that before you found out at the same time as the twenty other people in this bar.”
Leaning closer, he brushed his mouth below my ear. “And I thought you were being prissy.”
“Just because I don’t fuck on the first date doesn’t mean I’m prissy about sex.”
“Even if you were prissy, I’d make it my mission to coax out your inner bad girl.” He twisted his hand and pried apart my knees, sliding his fingers up my thigh until he reached my panties. “Have I told you how much I dig that you always wear skirts?”
I shook my head.
“Easy access is sexy.” He sank his teeth into my earlobe. “You’re sexy. Christ. I don’t know how much longer I can keep my hands off you.”
My throat was bone dry. I wasn’t sure if it was the champagne or him that had gone to my head. When his stroking fingers slipped beneath the elastic of my panties, I tilted my pelvis forward, giving him better access. Then I turned my head and met his hot and hungry gaze. “I’m willing to chance getting kicked out of here for lewd behavior if you are.”
“For real?”
“For real. But before I let you hike up my skirt and bang me against the nearest wall, I need to know your last name.”
I Want You Back Page 18