She had turned to King. “It’s like the first day of school.”
He’d grinned a bit. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“No, really. Noah’s never gone to regular school and back when my husband was around and we had money, we had home help and care and babysitters. Then Sarah took over, as you know, and it’s been Sarah here with him ever since. We had Helen for two days a week, and now we have Garrett who comes every day. But Noah leaving the house, going to a place and staying there for the whole day? That’s never happened, King. Not until today.”
He’d paused. “That’s true, huh?”
Annie had brushed away the tears in her eyes. “First day of school at the age of twenty-five, I swear. I’m scared to death for him.”
“Hey, now,” King had said gently. “He’s going to love it, Annie, and it’ll be good for all of you. You'll be nervous and worried until he comes home this afternoon, then you’ll see how great it all was.”
“Yeah.” She had smiled at him, and a rare flash of beauty had moved over that tired, strained face. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Now, King looked around at the other artists already at work. “So. You want to get started, man?”
“Yes.”
“Did you bring your music?”
“Yes.” Noah unzipped his backpack and produced a cheap CD Walkman. It was battered and beaten up but Noah handled it like it was the most beautiful thing on the planet. King watched as he loaded up a disc, put on the headphones, and turned to stare at the blank canvas.
And just like that, Noah was gone in to his head, in to his own little world. King smiled as Noah grabbed a paintbrush and dabbled it in a bit of water, dipped it in bright yellow paint. He blinked at the white landscape stretched out in front of him, and King would have paid a boatload of money to know what Noah was seeing on it.
He backed up quietly, wondering if Noah would freak out at him leaving. But Noah gave him a quick glance, a small wave, then turned his attention back to the easel. As King watched, Noah made a decisive brush stroke, then another; that was when King relaxed completely.
“Matt?”
He spun at that soft voice, and almost sighed at the sight of Naomi standing there. She was in a dress and high heeled knee-high boots today, and his eyes roamed over her body hungrily. God, what she’d be like to get his hands on – all soft curves and silky smoothness, he imagined. It would be a miracle and a gift to touch her, just once.
“Morning, Naomi. How you doing today?”
She was staring at him with a very serious expression on her face. “I’m fine. Can we talk privately for one minute?”
If they were going to be private, then talking wasn’t what he wanted to do with her, but he nodded and followed her in to her office. She shut the door behind him, then sat at her desk. That serious look hadn’t gone anywhere and now he began to get a bit worried.
“The organization received a huge anonymous transfer in to its bank account this morning,” she said, getting straight to the point. “One million dollars.”
“Wow.” King’s face was carefully arranged in a politely puzzled expression. “That’s amazing.”
“It is. I also can’t accept it.”
He paused. “Why not?”
“Because it’s way too much.”
“Well.” King grinned at her. “I’m sure that the anonymous donor can afford it – otherwise they’d never have sent it, huh?”
“I’m sure that the anonymous donor meant well, but it’s just… it’s so much money. Aren’t they worried about how it will be spent?”
He shrugged. “I suspect the donor did some research in to you and the program, and is fully confident that the money will be put to good use, and that you can be trusted to oversee its spending.”
“How can the donor be so sure?”
He smiled at her now and her stomach fell smack on to the floor. The crinkles around his eyes were simply the damn sexiest things she’d ever seen, and she idly wondered how old the man was. If she had to guess, she’d put him at about thirty-four, three years older than her. He was sheer strength and power and confidence, and she just knew he’d be a master in the bedroom: controlled and wild at the same time.
“Because the donor thinks the world of you… or so I would imagine.”
That stopped her. She caught her breath at the look on his face.
“You – the donor does?”
“Yes. I’m quite sure the donor does.”
“The donor barely knows me,” she said quietly.
“He knows enough.”
She bit her lip, thinking about the depth and breadth of her secrets. The alcoholic drinking, and all the dark and horrible places it had taken her over the years. “He doesn’t know anything really important.”
“He’d like to, though.”
“He – he would?”
“Yes.”
“What – how – what does that mean?”
“Well.” King leaned forward a bit. “Maybe – just maybe – the donor would like to take you for dinner tonight, and find out some important things.”
Holy fuck. Naomi went from cautious flirtation to panic mode in the wink of an eye. She had to shut this down, and now. She stood up, putting even more space between them.
“Maybe he would. Unfortunately, since the donation was anonymous, I have no way of finding out who he might be, so going for dinner is out of the question. Assuming it even is a ‘he’ – it could well be a ‘she’, you know.”
King blinked at her lightning-quick change in mood. “Uh, well. That’s true.”
“Yes, it is. And anyway, mixing business and pleasure is always a mistake, in my experience, and it’s an even bigger mistake when this amount of money is involved." Her whole body was cold with anger and fear. "For example, if the donor gave the organization that much money only because he – or she – expected something from me in return, that would be quite unethical. A real conflict of interest.”
King froze.
“It could almost be seen as pre-payment for services expected to be rendered.” The temperature in the room was sub-zero now. “Don’t you think?”
Jesus Christ… is she actually accusing me of giving her the money so that I can get the leverage to fuck her?
He stood up now too. “I am absolutely certain that the donor had no such thing in mind when he – or she – authorized the transfer. I’m sure all he – or she – was thinking about was the good of the organization.”
“Yes. I’m sure too.”
They stared at each other; King furious, Naomi possibly a smidge more so.
“OK, then.” He shook his head, wondering just how the hell he’d gotten her so wrong. Normally, he read people way the fuck better than this; it was his job, after all. “I’ve got to get going.”
Naomi watched him walk towards the door and every cell in her body was screaming at her to stop him. What the hell was wrong with her, implying that he’d handed over that much money to get her to spread her legs? She knew it wasn’t true.
She flashed back to a conversation that she and Mirrie had had many times over the months of her recovery, namely, the tendency for alcoholics to go on the offensive when they feel emotionally vulnerable or exposed. Matt Kingston had a way of making her feel off-balance and unsteady – around him, she felt almost nothing but totally vulnerable and completely exposed.
God, Naomi. Don’t dump your shit on him… he’s done nothing to deserve it.
“Matt?”
He paused, his hand on the door handle, his broad back to her.
“Matt, can you please look at me?”
He turned his massive upper body slightly, but still didn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry. That was – that was unforgivable.”
King turned to face her now, his arms crossed loosely
.
“I – I don’t know why I said that to you.” She felt tears prickle her eyes. “It was cruel and it was total bullshit.”
He saw her eyes brighten and his anger relaxed. “It’s OK.”
“It’s not OK.” Her voice was thick. “It’s most definitely not OK. It was uncalled for and bitchy and so, so awful.”
“Hey, don’t cry.” He crossed the office again. He didn’t touch her, but he stood close enough to inhale her perfume. She smelled of something fresh and green; something pure and bright. “All’s forgiven.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just – you really shocked me, and I’m not good when I’m taken by surprise like that.”
He dropped the game and pretense completely. “I shocked you when I sent you the money, or when I asked you to dinner?”
“Both.” The tears were spilling down her cheeks now. “I wasn’t expecting either, and I don’t always know how to handle these kinds of things. I get defensive in all the wrong ways.”
Gently, he reached out to wipe the tears with his thumb. Her skin was as soft as he’d imagined and he tried to stay focused on the conversation. Not so easy when he was getting tempting glimpses of her breasts as he stared down at her from his towering height.
“Hey, I’m sorry to throw you so badly,” he said. “I honestly didn’t expect anything from you in return, I swear. The money isn't some sleazy form of sexual blackmail, alright? The money is for Callie and Noah and all the others. The invitation to dinner is for me to enjoy your company.”
She averted her eyes, her skin tingling and hot under his surprisingly gentle touch. “I appreciate it, but I can’t accept.”
He dropped his hand. “The donation or the dinner?” he said, his voice now with a familiar teasing note.
She gave a small laugh. “Well, I believe you when you say that the donation was made with honest intentions. So I’ll accept it on behalf of the organization, with gratitude and the sincere promise to use it well. As for dinner…I’m not really seeing anyone right now.”
“Awesome. So you’re free to see me then, huh?”
She laughed again, a real laugh, charmed in spite of herself. “No, I’m sorry. I mean, I’m not dating anyone right now. I’m kind of on a self-imposed time-out from that whole scene.”
“Oh, yeah? How come?”
She stiffened and he saw it, clear as day. He gazed down at her face, every instinct in his body telling him that there was a story here – something to explain her unwarranted attack on him, and her choosing to stay single, and this weird tension in her whole body now.
What happened to you, baby? Someone hurt you, made you not trust men? Especially ones who come bearing gifts?
“I just – I’m just taking a break.” She was back in control now, and she moved away from him. “No big deal.”
King doubted that very much, but he wasn’t about to push. In his experience, forcing the issue with hurting women never did much good, and in fact, could do irreparable harm. So fine, if Naomi was on a break from dating, he’d just take things slow and easy with her. He’d make sure to drop by the Heart Center a few times a week, talk to her, let her get to know him a bit more. And then, maybe in a month or so, he’d ask again.
No rush, man. Get her to relax around you, trust you. Good things are worth waiting for – and this woman is one hell of a good thing.
**
“Shit, Naomi.” Mirrie looked horrified, which was highly unusual for her; she wasn’t taken aback by much. “You actually accused the man of giving your program money so he could get you in to bed?”
“Yeah.”
“And he didn’t kill you on the spot?”
“No.”
“Shit.”
Naomi groaned and covered her eyes with both hands. “I know, I know.”
Mirrie laughed now, a ‘holy-fuck-girl’ kind of laugh. “You seem bound and determined to keep the man on his toes, huh?”
“I guess.” Naomi sighed. “And I’m reminded yet again, and in the most painful and humiliating way possible, that this is why I’m on a dating sabbatical… can you imagine what a nightmare I’d be as a girlfriend?”
“Urgh. Terrifying to contemplate.”
“I know, right? Just about the last thing in the world I should be doing is getting involved with a man.”
“No. The last thing is drinking.” Mirrie grinned. “Getting involved with a man is a damn close second, though.”
They both laughed.
**
Sarah stared at the laptop screen, overwhelmed by frustration. She knew that she knew this, knew that she’d been damn good at it once upon a time. But fuck her if she could remember how the hell to use Photoshop.
Come on, come on. This isn’t even that complicated…why can’t you get your head around it?
She moved the mouse around, pressed some code keys, saw that she was making an even bigger mess. She grabbed her empty mug now and hurled it across the kitchen. It shattered against the wall, and she stared at the glass shards in horror as she realized what she’d just done. Then she heard the pounding footsteps coming up from the basement and she shut her eyes.
How the hell do I explain this to him?
“Sarah!” Jax stood there now, wearing just a pair of black sweat pants. His tattooed, muscular chest was gleaming with sweat and he was panting. She’d clearly interrupted his workout and she tried to look like a sane person, not a raving lunatic who wrecked things because she’d forgotten how the hell to crop an image. “What happened? You alright?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I just – I broke the mug.”
He stared across the room at it, then turned back to her, one dark eyebrow raised. “You broke it from all the way over here?”
“I – I…” She looked down, ashamed and angry. “I threw it.”
“OK.” His voice was low and calm; the perfect tone for placating the crazy lady, she figured. “Why’d you do that?”
“Because I’m fucking useless!” she said. “I can’t remember anything about the software I need to do my job! How the hell am I supposed to work when my brain is so fucking broken that I can’t even design a simple ad?”
Jax took a deep breath. He’d been waiting for this moment, and he still had no real idea how he was supposed to handle it. “Sarah… Mac told you that you need to take it easy on yourself, right? That you’ll have to relearn lots of things, and wait for others to come back to you.”
“How long am I supposed to wait?” she said. “Weeks? Months? Years? And what, Jax – I’m just going to live off you the whole time that I sit around and wait?”
“What do you mean, ‘live off’ me?”
“What do I mean?” Her voice was rising now. “I mean, I live here in your house, Jax, rent-free. I have zero income, so I can’t even buy the goddamn groceries… you pay for literally every little thing, including my toothpaste and tampons. Do you have any idea how fucking humiliating that is for me? Do you?”
“No,” he said quietly.
“You paid all my medical bills, you’re paying for Noah’s private care provider, you’re paying for my lawyer and my physical therapy, you’re giving my Mom money, you’re handing Naomi half-a-million dollars… and there’s no end in sight to any of it. I’m just – I’m a goddamn gold-digger, living off my rich boyfriend.” She was shouting now. “I’ve been taking care of Noah since I was four years old and working to help my family since I was eighteen, and now I’m this useless nothing who can’t do anything remotely productive, except when I’m lying flat on my back.”
“OK.” Jax’s voice was hard. “You just about done?”
“For the moment.”
“Listen close now. You paying attention?”
She nodded, her arms crossed tight against her body.
“First, you don’t earn
your keep around here by fucking me, and I can’t believe you even said that to me out loud. You shake that idea out of that head of yours and I mean right the hell now. We clear?”
She looked away.
“Sarah? We clear?”
“Yeah.”
“Next, you’re no goddamn charity case, so stop acting like one. You’re the woman that I love, and that makes you my family. And if that’s what you are, then Annie and Noah are my family too, and I take care of family. End of fucking discussion.”
“But –”
“I’m not finished talking yet. Next up, whatever you think you’re taking from me, I can promise you that it’s nothing compared to what you’re giving me… and no, I don’t mean sex. I mean love, baby, and total forgiveness and understanding. You think just anyone would be able to look at my life and all the shit I’ve done, and still see any good in me? You think just anyone could know that I planned to kill their ex, and then forgive me for that? See the man that I’m trying so fucking hard to be?”
“Jax...”
“Still not done, doll. I know that you’re not used to letting someone else take care of you, but you’d better fucking learn how and I mean damn quick. Because I’m not going to stop taking care of you, no matter how many mugs you throw across the room. You hear me? I love you, and you’re the most important thing in my life, and you’re mine to take care of. It won’t be like this forever – it’s just for now. So, let me, Sarah. Let me, just for now.”
Something inside of her broke and Sarah covered her face and sobbed, hard enough to make her whole body shake. Jax crossed the kitchen in two steps, caught her in his arms. She was almost hyperventilating and he ran his hands up and down her back, trying to calm her.
“Shhhh. Baby, breathe, OK? Just breathe for me.”
“I – I’m sorry… Jax, I’m so, so sorry…”
“Nuh-uh, none of that.” He stroked her hair. “No apologies… all I need right now is for you to come back to me.”
She held on tighter, inhaling the musky scent that was pure Jax. She couldn’t see, couldn’t think, couldn’t even stand unaided; all she could do was cry and hold on to him. She lost all track of time, stopped caring about anything except being in Jax’s arms – and being forgiven.
Hard Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 2) Page 5