He backs me up and presses me against the stone wall behind me. His hands plant on the wall on either side of me. “You—”
“I know everything I did,” I say, stopping him before he makes a point that I’ve already made in my head. “And I’m sorry for all of it. The truth is, I’m really deep in this emotionally with you, and I wasn’t running from what was inside that envelope. I was running from your reaction. I decided that I was all in, and you were one envelope from being all out.”
I reach up and stroke his wet hair from his handsome face, and I don’t pull back, not physically or emotionally. “I’m terrified of finding out that my family isn’t worth protecting, that they killed your brother. And that would end us and break me. That’s how all in I am with you. If you walk away—”
He catches my hand and his eyes, those piercing eyes that always manage to see too much, smolder and not with desire. He’s angry, he’s furious even. “I didn’t try to walk away,” he says, his voice low, taut. “You did.” His jaw sets hard. “Twice.”
“I know,” I whisper, and while he holds me, I have this sense that he could let go of me at any moment like I haven’t said enough, like maybe I can’t say enough to fix this. The idea that I’ve lost a good thing, and we are a good thing, guts me, it drives me to confess what I would never dare with anyone else. “I’m used to everyone having an agenda. I’m used to them wanting something from me. I’m used to—” Unbidden emotion wells in my throat, the past month of loss and bombshells punch me right in the throat, but I don’t look away, I don’t hide from him. I push forward. “I’m used to being alone. I’m used to counting on only me. It’s how I survive. This, us, you, Jax, it’s going to take me some time to know I can trust that this is real, but it’s not about you. It’s about me.”
He stares at me again. God, these stares are killing me, his expression unreadable, his energy humming with a rough purr along my nerve endings. I can’t read him and that scares me. I’m coming apart from the inside out with the idea that this is it, afraid I’ve given too much, too late. He’s the one who lost his brother. He should be pushing me away. I’m a Knight. And yet, he isn’t. The certainty that he will now has me ready to bolt, but that’s how we got here, that’s how he ended up in the shower without me. I’m not running again. I’ve bared my soul to Jax. I’ve told him everything, and now he’s my judge and jury. I have to have the courage to wait for that ruling, but I just can’t take it. I can’t take his silence. “Jax,” I whisper, and it’s as if his name on my lips is what he wanted, what he was waiting for.
He drags me to him, our naked bodies molded close, his hand sliding over my hair, and dragging my gaze to his. “No more running.”
Relief washes over me, but it’s marginal, it’s not fully realized. “I don’t want to run, but why aren’t you?”
“If you were anyone else, I would, in a blink I would, but I can’t walk away from you.”
“Why? Because—”
“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t say it. Not if it involves me having an agenda. What part of me being insanely into you, do you not get?”
“I don’t know what happened to your brother. I don’t, but what if my father killed your brother? What if it goes deeper than him? How do we survive that?”
“Together, baby. We do it together. Because you’re not alone anymore. And neither am I.”
My heart swells. My heart is going to shatter for Jax. “We can’t survive that.”
“I have always been a man who goes for what he wants, who fights until I’m bloody, but bloody doesn’t mean I lose. It means I can take the pain if it means we win. Watch and see.” He kisses me and pulls me under the water with him. We hold each other there, but his words radiate through me. He can take the pain if we end up together. I can’t walk away from him either, but I should, I should, because he just told me that he expects me to cause him pain. I probably already am.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Emma…
We don’t end up standing under the water for long.
Jax starts kissing me, and the next thing I know, I’m in the corner of the shower against the wall with him inside of me. If we’d been passionate in the bedroom early, this is more primal, more animalistic. We fuck, and it’s everything, just everything. I can’t find another way to describe what it is that passes between us. When it’s over, we linger, touching each other, kissing each other. He strokes my hair from my face, the way I’m coming to expect, and cups my face. “God, woman, what are you doing to me?”
What am I doing to him? What is he doing to me? What are we doing to each other? We should both be running in the other direction, but here we are. Wet and kissing like we haven’t just kissed away the morning.
Finally, we suds each other up and laugh for no real reason, just like we did back in San Francisco in the hotel shower. It’s one of those raw, real moments that pulls me closer to him, one of those raw, real moments that we need right now. A moment that brings us back to all the good things about me and him, of which there are many. He makes me smile. We make each other smile. I don’t smile that often, and I get the impression that Jax doesn’t either. I don’t have to wonder why. His mother left. His father died. His brother is dead. And in death, there is coldness, so much coldness.
Eventually, the water is cold, too, and Jax turns it off, grabs a towel overhead and hands it to me, before opening the shower door. Jax immediately hands me a smaller towel for my hair. I grab it and drop my good towel into the water. “Great,” I murmur.
“I got you,” Jax says, giving me a wink, the words packing a punch with about ten potential meanings, the moment somehow heating my cheeks, which is silly when I’m naked, wet, and he was just inside of me.
His eyes warm, his lips curving in a satisfied smile. He’s pleased and with his pleasure comes a realization. With any other man I’ve known, this kind of satisfaction would become arrogance, dominance. With Jax, it’s intimate, warm, charming. He’s pleased, not with his ability to control me, but with our ability to connect on this level. And so, I’m pleased, too.
He disappears outside the stone walls of the shower, but the warmth of our bond stays with me while I quickly dry my hair and wrap the towel around my head. Jax reappears in the doorway with a low-slung towel at his waist, holding another towel for me. I step out of the shower to stand in front of him, and I’m surprised when I’m instantly draped in terry cloth. Jax uses the edges to pull me closer, giving my naked body a heated once over, and then tucks the towel together above my breasts. I’m suffocating in this man, and I love every second. Leave me here and let me drown.
Our eyes lift and collide, and the punch of awareness between us doesn’t just steal my breath; I swear he steals the rest of my heart that still might have been safer to hold onto. I don’t even try to pull it back though. Warmth radiates in the depths of his stare and washes over me, and it is clear that there is something happening between us, something I have never known before, but I want to know it with him. Not only do I melt all over again for this man, I dare to think that he feels everything that I do.
Of course, the insecure part of me, the part that has always been a Knight, with no real identity, wants to reject that idea, to protect myself. But Jax wins this self-doubt versus satisfaction push and pull. Right here, right now, with him, is one of those moments in time that a little girl imagines she might one day feel, but the adult woman dismisses as a fairy tale. But then I am standing in a castle on the ocean. Unbidden, my minds adds, a castle where his brother died.
It’s a horrible thought that ends with his cellphone ringing. My heart lurches with that call, and I grab Jax’s arm. “That might be Savage. Before you answer, just remember that together doesn’t mean you and Savage. Whatever we find out about our families, or whatever is in that envelope, might have consequences. Please, let’s deal with you and me, first.”
“We’ll take it one step at a time, together. Let’s see what he has to say.”
On the surface, it’s a good answer, if you look beyond the absence of agreement. “No running, we agreed,” I say. “No secrets either. I offered you my father’s paperwork. You have to be just as upfront with me. I need to know—”
“I have been just as upfront with you.”
“You didn’t want to tell me about the envelope.”
“But I did. I would have, even if you hadn’t overheard my talk with Savage.” His hands settle on my neck, just under my hair, and he tilts my gaze to his. “I didn’t want you to be scared in my home. I want you to want to be here.”
“I do. I do want to be here.”
“And I want you to keep wanting to be here. That’s all. I wasn’t hiding anything. I was protecting you.”
“Protect me by being by my side, dealing with all the facts. When I said that I’m used to being alone, that’s true, but what’s also true is my ability to handle shit that gets thrown at me. I can handle whatever is in that envelope.”
“And yet, you tried to run.”
“I’m standing right here now, Jax.” My voice lowers and vibrates, as I add, “I’m standing right here.”
His expression softens. “I know, baby.”
“Do you? Because—”
“I know,” he repeats, and his phone has not only stopped ringing, it’s started all over again. “I better grab the call.”
I nod, and reluctantly, it seems, he steps away from me, snatching up his pants from the side of the tub and removing his phone. Folding my arms in front of me, I hug myself, waiting for where this call might lead us. The truth is that the light in the sea of loss and pain has been Jax. I’ve been living in hell, and he’s pulled me back into the light. I dread the envelope. I dread what someone knows that I don’t know. I suck in a breath, holding it, as I watch Jax answer the call, waiting for what feels like the end.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jax…
At the sight of Jill’s number on my caller ID, I’m instantly on edge again, which is why I don’t turn around to face Emma. The timing of this call, right after me finding that envelope, does not sit well. “This is Jax,” I answer.
“Why do you always do that?” she demands. “I know you see the caller ID. I know you know it’s me.”
I rotate to face Emma, who’s kneeling next to her suitcase. Her eyes find mine, a question in their depths that I answer by saying, “It’s early, Jill.” I watch a mix of relief and disappointment flicker across her delicate features. She’s worried about what’s inside the envelope, and she’s both relieved that I don’t have bad news and disappointed to remain in the dark. Her apprehension drives my irritation at Jill, which as of late, has grown exponentially. “What do you need?” I ask.
“Do you know how rude you sound?”
She’s right. I do, and while I’d normally apologize, I can’t shake the feeling that she’s guilty. Of what I don’t know, but she’s pushing my buttons. As if proving that point, she makes a disgusted sound. “I could say a few things to you but I won’t, considering Kent Sawyer’s here.”
At the name certain to cause problems for me and Emma, I rotate and exit the bathroom, removing myself from Emma’s astute inspection. “How the hell does he know that I’m here?” I ask, grabbing the remote by the bed and opening the blinds, an overcast morning limiting the light spilling into the room.
“I have no clue, and if that question assumes that I told him, I didn’t. Maybe Brody did. He’s been off his rocker since he got here yesterday.”
“Brody deals with his retail locations.”
“It’s a small town, and they’re both in town a day earlier than expected. That feels off to me, but you know, you don’t seem to value my opinion these days, so ignore me. He’s presently in the library, sipping the coffee I had delivered to him from the kitchen.”
I scrub my jaw. “Buy me twenty minutes.”
“I already did. I told him you’re at the plant with an inspector. As far as he’s concerned, you might be hours.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I repeat, and hang up, tossing my phone on the bed. This isn’t an accident. Someone, maybe Jill, knew Emma was here and set me up.
“Jax?”
I rotate to find Emma already dressed in black jeans and a black turtleneck sweater, her hair wet and loose at her shoulders. Her bare feet display pink painted toenails that actually have my cock twitching. Toenail paint is turning me on. Considering my present state of undress and the visitor waiting on me, my gaze jerks to Emma’s bare face, and she’s more beautiful than ever. I’m falling in love with her. I can’t deny it. I don’t want to deny it.
I close the space between me and her, catching her fingers with mine. “I have an unexpected visitor, a business meeting. I have to dress and go handle this. Then, there’s a place down the road my father used to take us for breakfast; I’d like to take you there.”
Her fingers tighten around mine. “I’d love to go to the place your father took you, Jax, but what am I sensing in you right now?”
She sees too much. She sees what no one else sees in me. “That I’m fucking crazy about you?”
“Jax—”
“It’s Kent Sawyer, Emma.”
She draws in a breath and lets it out. “Oh.”
“Oh? That’s it?”
“What am I supposed to say? We both know you know that he was the architect behind a failed hostile takeover a few years back. He’s our enemy, and your enemy’s enemy is your friend.”
I cut my stare because I want to deny the truth, but I can’t do that anymore than I can lie to her.
“Jax,” she urges softly, and I force myself to look at her.
“Emma—”
“If I thought your family killed my brother, I’d damn sure align myself with your enemies. I like that you fight for those you love. All I ask is that you let me fight with you.”
“I am fighting with you. I could have hidden this from you.”
“I know that, I do, and it matters to me that you didn’t. I don’t doubt my father could have done this, but my brother is a good man. Please don’t make him pay for my father’s sins.”
“And if he isn’t, Emma? What if he’s involved?” She tries to free herself, but I hold onto her hands. “Don’t pull away,” I order softly. “That solves nothing. We do this together, remember?”
“I know that.”
“Then we have to face the tough questions. We have to decide what comes next, together.”
“I’m not going to help you destroy my brother.” Her voice vibrates with emotion. “This can’t work if that’s your plan.”
“Is that what you think? That this, us, all of this, means so little to me that I’d do that. Damn it, Emma. You’re right. If that’s what you think of me, this can’t work.” Anger starts to burn in my chest. I release her. “I need to get dressed.”
I step around her, and she doesn’t even try to stop me. Of course, she doesn’t. No matter how hard I try to make us one, we’re North and Knight in her mind. Fuck. In my mind, too. I’m full of shit every time I say this doesn’t matter.
I enter the bathroom, and I don’t stop until I’m in the closet where I drop my towel and start to dress. “Are you going to tell me that you didn’t align yourself with him to ruin us?”
I take that well-deserved punch and pull on my pants before I turn to face her. She’s right. I did. Her family killed my brother. “I’m fighting for my family, Emma, just like you are for yours, but for me, everything changed when I met you. I told you that. I meant it. You need to decide if you believe that or if you don’t.” I grab a shirt, hang it on a standalone rack and start unbuttoning it.
Emma steps between me and it. My hands come down on her arms. “I need to get rid of him. That means I need to get dressed.”
“My brother is all I have, Jax.” Her hands settle on my chest, heat radiating off her palm. “My mother took off. She’s always h
alf gone. My father was never there for me. Now he’s gone. My brother was it for me. I don’t want to lose him and—and I think I’m going to lose him.”
I catch her chin in my fingers and drag her gaze to mine. “You have me. You don’t know that yet, but you will. You have me. Whatever happens, this doesn’t end any other way.” I turn her and walk her into the corner, next to a line of my suit jackets, and I make damn sure she knows how serious I am. I say exactly what I’m thinking. “I didn’t bring you here to plot against you or your family. I brought you here because I need you with me. Now that you’re here, I don’t want you to leave. I want you to move in with me. We’ll fly back and forth to San Francisco if we have to, but move in with me.”
“We just met. Like literally just met.”
“I knew from the minute I kissed you, hell, the minute I met you, that you were like no other woman before you, Emma. I don’t want our families to have the chance to divide us. That means we stick together, but don’t answer now. Think about it while you’re here. Just know that’s what I want.” I brush my lips over hers, and the sweet little sound she makes tightens my groin. “I want you,” I say. “I want you so fucking badly it hurts, and when I say want, I mean want, Emma. Really fucking want. You matter to me, woman.”
She swallows hard. “You matter to me, too,” she whispers. “So much that it scares me. He’s my brother, Jax. If he was involved, he doesn’t deserve my support, but I don’t want to lose him.”
“I know, baby.” My hands settle on her hips. “I know. Look, Emma, I have my own version of demons. Things that fuck with my head, just like you have yours.”
“I know that. I’m not trying to make my world more important than yours.”
“Our world now, Emma. Let me go take care of Kent, and we’ll talk all of this out. We need to decide together, if A, B, or C, happens, here’s what we do. Fair?”
“That is about as perfect as this gets. I don’t want to fight like this again.”
“And that’s why we’re going to talk this out.” I kiss her and step away, grabbing my shirt and slipping it on. She stays leaning on the wall, watching me.
One Woman Page 7