by Josie Kerr
“He’s made this personal, Meghan—”
Her laugh was short and bitter. “No shit, Jason. It’s always been personal. Everything with Geoffrey Crabtree is personal. He’s convinced that everyone’s out to get him, and Lord pity the person who he’s decided has wronged him, because he’s a vengeful fuck as well. Unfortunately, he’s got enough money and influence to make whoever he’s targeting pay, whether or not it’s warranted.” She stepped closer but still kept her distance. “I didn’t figure any of this out until we got married, and after he showed his true colors, it took all my da had to get me away from him.”
Jason closed his eyes. Damn, he was an idiot, a complete fucking idiot. Instead of getting Crabtree to back off, he’d put Meghan back in the crosshairs. Shit.
“His parents tried to pay me to leave him. They wanted me out of his life because he spent all his time following me and making sure I was where I’d told him I was going to be. When his father put his foot down and told him he either came back to work or be cut off, Geoffrey hired quote, unquote bodyguards to protect me, but the reality was they were isolating me. And then he became convinced that I was having an affair with them—all of them—and that’s when it got really bad. He fired them all, ruined their careers, and hired private investigators to follow me.”
“That’s when his parents tried to pay you off?”
Meghan nodded and sank down into a chair. She motioned for Jason to sit, so he did. He took a chance by reaching across the table to clasp her hand, but she didn’t object.
“He went ballistic, accusing me of turning them against him. Then, one night, he had to go out of town on business, and I literally climbed out a back window and walked across the roofs of the neighborhood houses until I found one that had a fire ladder attached. I walked five miles to a gas station and bought a disposable cell phone and called Da, and he came and picked me up. I hid in the ladies’ room for four hours.”
“Was this so-called payoff the sticking point with the divorce?”
“Everything was a sticking point with the divorce. He contested everything, kept on delaying stuff, then he moved and they couldn’t find him to serve him with the papers. It was a big mess. Da hired the best lawyer he could afford, mortgaged the pub. That’s partially why we’re in the shape we are, even after all these years. It almost ruined him in every possible way.”
Jason gave her hand a squeeze. “You can’t blame yourself.”
“But I do.”
Jason grasped her other hand in his. “After I figured out that this is about you, and not really about Cabbagetown Eats, I wanted to make sure that that fuck knows you are not to be messed with because you have friends who will do anything for you and who have your back. He’s not going to ruin you or your business on my watch.” He sighed. “I’m sorry about what I said about your father. I’m not going to say I didn’t mean it, because I did. You work way too hard, and you’re too hard on yourself.”
“Oh, Jason.” She shook her head, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“How long have we been doing what we’ve been doing?”
She shrugged. “Three years, give or take? I mean, we met six years ago, but you were with that Chelsea woman and I was—never mind what I was.”
“Oh my God, Meghan Sullivan—are you blushing?”
She punched him on the arm. “Shut up.”
“Why are you blushing?”
“Because I . . . I was a little slutty for a while. Okay, I was a lot slutty for a long time.”
“Me, too, girl.” Jason chuckled. “Me fucking too.”
“Are we having a relationship talk?”
“I think we are.”
“Huh.” She chewed her lip. “It’s not as scary as I thought it would be.”
“It was pretty scary there for a bit.”
The side of Meghan’s mouth quirked up in a grin. “Well, what did you expect?”
Jason barked a laugh. “Actually, I expected a lot more yelling. Maybe some thrown dishes.”
“Like Cher and Nicholas Cage in Moonstruck?”
“Shit—exactly!” Jason clasped her hands in his again. “So what do you say? Can we forget about the professional-relationship-only bullshit and get on with us? I mean, within reason, because yeah, we do need to talk about actual professional shit, and pretty soon.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.” Then her face creased. “So do we have to talk about professional stuff right now?”
“Shit, I hope not,” Jason said with a snort. “You blowing up at me was hot as fuck, and I’m feeling the need to get you naked and make you scream your head off.”
She tapped her nail on the table and narrowed her eyes at him. “One entire wall of my bedroom is mirrors. Race you.”
She took off running, with Jason hot on her heels.
Chapter 17
Meghan spent the morning going over the books, and despite the pub being completely closed for a few days, it looked like this was going to be the best month they’d had in a long time—in years, even. She hadn’t done a bit of advertising beyond her usual, but for some reason, a bowling league had decided to make Foley’s Public House its after-game destination, and twice a week, every week, at least four teams descended on the pub, and they weren’t cheap like other groups had been in the past. But the bowling league wasn’t the only reason. Traffic had picked up in general, even early, during lunch, and she’d found herself on duty beside Ronnie more than once, not because of the other bartender’s ineptitude, but because there was simply no way one person could handle the amount of orders. This was a very good thing, especially since Meghan didn’t know for sure if she was going to be able to participate in Cabbagetown Eats. For right now, she and the crew of Land & Sea Renovations were chugging along as if Foley’s was going to be hosting the Perfect Pour and everything was business as usual.
Which, of course, it wasn’t.
Everything was actually better, which made Meghan nervous, and when she got nervous, she got snappish and short-tempered, and worse, weepy. She hated to cry, absolutely hated it, especially when the tears were the result of anger. The whole anger-tears-anger thing was an endless cycle: she’d get angry, then she’d cry, and then she would get angry because she was crying. Rinse, repeat, ad nauseam, until she got the hiccups, and then it would be thirty times worse.
Okay, she needed to stop thinking about being nervous, et cetera, or she was going to work herself up into the very state she dreaded. She closed her eyes and took some deep, cleansing breaths: in through the nose, out through the mouth. Repeat, and repeat again.
When she opened her eyes, Jason was leaning against the doorjamb of her office, a bemused grin on his handsome face.
“What do you want?” Her tone implied she was a lot crosser than she was, which was not very, actually. Just seeing Jason perked her up considerably, though that expression on his face could mean anything.
“How long are you going to slave over that hot spreadsheet, babe?”
Meghan rubbed her face. “Just until you guys get to a stopping point.”
“I sent the guys home an hour ago.”
“Really?”
He nodded and sauntered into the office to lean on her messy desk. Meghan squirmed in her chair, instantly aroused by his tight white T-shirt and tensed triceps. His rumbly, deep voice gave her the good kind of shivers, and the way he was looking at her? She could feel him undressing her with his eyes.
“Anything special you wanna do today?” He was suspiciously nonchalant. In fact, all the guys on the Land & Sea Renovations crew were acting a little weird today.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why would I want to do something special?”
Jason blinked. “You don’t know what day it is, do you?”
“It’s Thursday.”
“Look at the date, babe.”
“I’m not your babe,” she groused even as she turned back to the computer and looked at the date in the lower right corner of the scr
een.
Jason’s face softened. “Happy birthday, darlin’.”
“I can’t believe you remembered,” she whispered and then, after waiting for a few beats, in a normal voice, said, “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it was my own friggin’ birthday.”
Jason chuckled. “Let me take you out tonight, even just for dessert . . . or something.”
The way he said “or something” made her shiver again.
“It doesn’t have to be a late night if you don’t want.” For once, cocky Jason Richards looked unsure, and that might have been the most adorable, sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
“Okay, I’ll let you take me out, but only on one condition.”
He stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. “And what’s that condition?” he asked, his bravado returned.
“Surprise me.”
☆☆☆
After she’d told him she would let him take her out, Meghan sent Jason home so they could each get ready for their evening. Jason made some quick phone calls and then showered, shaved, and dressed up enough for him to get an enthusiastic thumbs-up from his neighbor, a spry octogenarian with a deceptively dirty sense of humor.
He pulled into the back parking lot of Foley’s, hopped out of the truck, and rang the bell of Meghan’s apartment. She was down in less than a minute, and hot damn, she’d outdone herself tonight. In a black micro miniskirt paired with a backless halter top and sky-high stilettos, she was dressed to kill—at least, she slayed him.
She looked at him head to toe, and one eyebrow arched up. “You sure clean up nice. Makes me want to get you dirty.”
Instant. Hard-on.
Then she died laughing. “Oh my God. The look on your face!” She hooted some more.
He growled and pulled her close. “Don’t tease me about being dirty, woman.”
She’d stopped laughing, but her eyes danced with humor. “I’m not teasing,” she whispered.
“If I hadn’t made reservations, I’d put you over my shoulder and we’d head right back up those stairs.”
“Good things come to those who wait.” They stared at each other, the tension thick, and then she snorted. “That might have been a little much.”
“Just a little.” He nodded and then gave her a wink. “Let’s go before I decide to blow off those reservations.”
He helped her into the truck, and they were on their way. He couldn’t keep his hands off her thighs during the fifteen-minute trip to the restaurant or during the spectacular meal Nolan served them. All that bare skin was just too much to resist.
During dessert—a shared piece of the most insanely tall lemon coconut cake he’d ever seen—Jason got up the nerve to run his finger down the ridge of her spine. Her gaze went hot as she wrapped her mouth around the fork. She ran her finger over the fly of his jeans and went on to cup his erection.
“Where to next?” she asked, her voice husky and full of promise.
Jason touched her hair, then her cheek, with a finger, drawing it down her throat to the bare hollow between her breasts. He saw her nipples peak. He called for the check.
“It’s a surprise, but, um, something I think you’ll really enjoy.”
“Your place?”
“Nope.”
Her mouth snapped shut, and she seemed almost pouty. “What?”
Jason grinned at her and signed the check. “You said to surprise you. I’m surprising you.”
Meghan looked at him with slanted eyes, making her look even more feline than usual. “You’re being very coy, Richards.”
“Just doing what the birthday girl told me to do.”
Meghan muttered something about how typical it would be for him to finally listen because it would make her crazy, and Jason couldn’t resist kissing her. She went soft against him, and once again he considered abandoning the rest of the evening.
“Now who’s being a tease?” she asked, breathless from his kisses.
Jason huffed a laugh as he helped her out of the booth, then led her out of the restaurant.
☆☆☆
She was about to die of anticipation. She hadn’t been so excited about a birthday in years. Jason was being secretive, and while that normally would drive her crazy and make her angry, right now it was just making her crazy—crazy hot. It didn’t help matters that he looked good enough to eat, with his dark jeans, white dress shirt, and a pair of lace-up oxfords. Who would have guessed Jason Richards owned lace-up oxfords? Not her.
As they made their way north of Midtown Atlanta toward Buckhead, Meghan figured they’d hit a club, have some drinks, and do some dancing, which she was definitely up for. That night felt like one in which anything could happen, and she welcomed it. Then Jason turned the opposite direction of the Buckhead club district. She looked at him in question, and for the first time that evening, he seemed a little nervous.
“I had this scheme to do this for your birthday last year, but then your dad’s health took a turn for the worse and you had other things to deal with.”
Meghan’s first thought when he turned onto a side street and headed into what looked like an abandoned industrial park was that this place would be an ideal dumping ground for a serial killer.
“It gets better,” he said with a chuckle, reading her mind.
“It couldn’t get much worse. Jaysus.”
He turned again, and suddenly they were at the barrier of a well-lit parking garage. Jason took a ticket and wound his way through a maze of spaces until he found one near what was obviously the entrance of some sort, judging by the huge guy standing by a steel and glass door.
“Where the hell are we, Richards?”
He turned to her. “Illusions.”
She stared at him for a moment. “You’re serious?”
He nodded, that unsure look on his face. “Yeah. We don’t have to go in. We can—”
She sealed her mouth over his both to shut him up and to give her time to formulate an excuse to not go into the club.
“Wow.” Jason cleared his throat and gave her a shy grin. “You don’t want to go in, do you?”
She slowly shook her head. “No, I don’t. I’m sorry.” She took his hand. “You know, if things had worked out last year, I’d have totally been game. But now . . .”
Meghan sighed. How could she possibly explain what she was feeling when she wasn’t completely sure herself?
She didn’t have to answer, because Jason patted her on the thigh, then started the truck and headed out of the parking deck.
“Do you want to spend the night?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I want you to spend the night with me, though.”
That sweet smile reappeared on Jason’s face. “I’d love to.”
Chapter 18
They pulled into the back lot and Jason put the truck in park. Emotions swirled through his head. Had he offended her by taking her to a swingers’ club? If he had, it couldn’t have been too dire, because she wanted to spend the night with him. He was actually thrilled that she wanted to stay at her place. He felt privileged that she’d invited him into her private space because, as far as he knew, no one had ever been in the Sullivans’ apartment.
That initial invitation had marked the beginning of a new stage in their relationship, not that they’d talked about it. It just kind of happened, and neither of them seemed to be in any hurry to discuss these changes. In fact, when opportunities to have a conversation would arise, one of them would change the subject and the other wouldn’t try to redirect it back. He wasn’t sure what that meant.
That was a lie, actually. He damn well knew what that meant: they were both scared shitless about this shift. But that didn’t mean they were unhappy about it, either. Well, Jason knew for sure he wasn’t unhappy. Hell, he couldn’t remember a time he’d felt more content about being in a relationship, not that he’d had many to compare with.
“Jason?”
When he turned to look at Meghan, her face was scrunched up in the
funniest confused expression he’d ever seen.
“Sorry, Meghan. I think I was having a moment,” he admitted with a quiet chuckle.
She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Don’t worry—I had my own moment earlier.”
“In the parking deck?”
She nodded. He blew out a breath, relieved. “I might have packed a bag, just in case.”
“ ‘Always be prepared’? Isn’t that what they say?” Her grin was infectious.
“That’s the Boy Scouts.” He ran his hand down her bare back. “I didn’t tell you earlier, but you look hot as fuck tonight.”
Meghan’s grin turned impish. “Remember that night Ryan busted us?”
Hell yeah, he remembered. Ryan had caught a shirtless Jason enthusiastically fingering a fully clothed Meghan while she leaned against the side of his truck. He had no idea how she’d convinced him to take off his shirt, but she had.
“Do you remember what you told me right before?” she whispered, her breath hot on his neck.
“That I wanted to take you, spread out on the hood?” he responded, his voice equally quiet.
Meghan raised her skirt to expose a bare hip. Jason swallowed hard. He knew she was braless from the way her breasts swayed under the thin blouse, and he began to suspect she was completely bare under that tiny skirt.
Hot damn.
“Still interested in doing that?” The skirt skimmed higher, giving him a glimpse of the closely trimmed hair that covered her mound.
“Oh, hell yeah.” He caught her mouth in a hot kiss, and in a matter of moments, they were wrestling in the front seat. Jason had a firm grip on Meghan’s bare ass while Meghan’s hands had found their way under his shirt to pluck at his nipples. She broke the kiss, pushed him away, and, with a wicked grin, popped out of the truck. Jason fumbled with the door latch in his haste but finally made it to the front of the vehicle. Meghan leaned back, her elbows on the hood and her legs splayed.
Jason began to unbuckle his belt. “You want me clothed or . . . ?”
He saw her lick her lips. “Or.”