Dangerous Curves

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Dangerous Curves Page 5

by James, Marysol

“Oh, thank you.” She took it and when she saw that the clasp was broken, she put it in her pocket.

  “I – uh. I stopped by a jewelry place on my way over here.” Jax felt his face flame. “I… I got you a new chain.” He handed her a long, slim box. “I tried to get one as close to the broken one as possible. I hope it’s OK.”

  She stared at him. “You did?”

  “Yeah.”

  With trembling fingers she opened the box and gasped again. “Oh, Jax. It’s beautiful. Perfect, actually.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes prickled with tears. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  They gazed at each other now, and without any warning at all, they smiled at the same time and then totally relaxed.

  “So,” he said. “Can I come in now? Just for a little while?”

  Sarah opened her mouth to answer him, and then froze when she heard movement inside the house. Jax looked at the door as it swung open all the way, and he blinked at the man standing there.

  He was huge, almost as big as Jax himself, and he was mumbling incoherently and gazing down at the floor. His arms were loose and dangling at his sides, and he clenched and unclenched his large hands constantly. His red-brown hair was unbrushed and he had food in one corner of his mouth. He reminded Jax of a kid who’d lived in his neighborhood when he was growing up. The kids had all just called him The Retard – Jax included.

  “Sarah,” the man said in a deep, low voice. “Done.”

  “OK, sweetie,” she said gently and glanced at her watch. “It’s twelve-twenty-six now. You’ve got four minutes to get to your paints.”

  The man nodded, then seemed to notice Jax. He stared at Jax’s boots, then raised his eyes to Jax’s knees, then a bit higher.

  “Boots,” the man said. “Jeans. Belt. T-shirt.”

  “That’s good,” Sarah said. “Honey, this is a friend of mine. His name is Jax.”

  “Jax,” the man repeated. “Jax, Jax, Jax.”

  “Jax,” Sarah said. “This is Noah. My twin brother.”

  **

  Jax sat on the front porch, staring across the street at the mini-thugs still sitting there smoking their stupid little faces off.

  For fuck sake. Get to school, idiots.

  The door opened and Sarah came out now, carrying two cups of coffee. He stood up to accept the one she offered him, then he waited until she sat down before taking his chair again. He didn’t say anything, just waited.

  Sarah sighed. Here we go. “OK, Jax. Just ask.”

  “Is he – what has he got?”

  “He’s autistic,” Sarah said.

  “Like – like Rainman?”

  She laughed. “It’s amazing how many people have that character as their first point of reference. But yeah, like Rainman. Noah’s autism isn’t anywhere near that severity on the spectrum, but he does have some of the same patterns of behavior.”

  “Like what?”

  She leaned back. “The compulsive need for ritual, mostly. Noah needs to do the same things at the same times every day. If he can’t, or doesn’t, and we don’t give him some kind of warning of the change, he… he sometimes gets very upset.”

  Jax stared at her. “He gets violent with you?”

  “Oh. Oh, no.” Sarah shook her head. “No, he’s never been violent towards me, not ever. He just – he throws things, destroys things. Hits himself in the head and face. It doesn’t happen every time his routine is unexpectedly upset, but if it does get started, I’m not strong enough to stop him. So he almost always ends up in the hospital, which interrupts his schedule even more. All in all, it’s best for everyone if I make sure there are no breaks in his routine, especially first thing in the morning.”

  Jax was quiet. “That’s why you were so upset and anxious about getting home by a certain time yesterday?”

  “Yeah. Noah gets up every morning at exactly eight o’clock. Even if he’s awake before then, he won’t physically get out of bed – he’ll lie there and watch the clock. Then he’ll come downstairs and I need to have his breakfast on the table. If I don’t, it can send him in to one hell of a panic.” She smiled. “It’s not the best way to start the day, I can promise you.”

  Jax nodded. “And – and what? Every single day is exactly the same?”

  “It used to be. Over the past few years, I’ve managed to introduce quite a few differences in to his routine. To break up the sameness, and teach him some skills to cope with change, in case we need to go to the doctor, say, or a repairman needs to come in to the house. So, before we used to do the exact same thing every day, but now we do different things every day, but we always do them that day.”

  He cocked his head. “Huh?”

  “OK, like… today is Monday. So, every Monday, Noah has orange juice, Cheerios and strawberries for breakfast. I have to use the orange bowl and plate and cup. Tomorrow, it’s pineapple juice, Frosted Flakes, and orange slices, with the red bowl and plate and cup. And on and on like that.”

  “Holy shit, Sarah,” Jax said. “How the hell do you remember it all?”

  She shrugged. “I take care of him, mostly. If I don’t remember, who will?’

  “So… wait. You take care of Noah? All by yourself?”

  “I have some help on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but the rest of the time, yeah. It’s mostly me.”

  “Your Mom? Dad?”

  “Mom works in a diner and has lots of early and late shifts. And my Dad left a while ago. He… he had a hard time with Noah.”

  “I’m sorry, baby,” Jax said softly. “That’s a lot for you to handle on your own.”

  She glanced at him. “I’m managing.”

  “I’d say so.” Jax sipped his coffee. “And he’s painting right now? You said he had four minutes to get to his paints.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Her face brightened. “That’s something that he loves. On afternoons that we’re here, he paints for exactly four hours, fifty-seven minutes and eighteen seconds.”

  Jax blinked at that. “Why so precise?”

  “Because he listens to the same three classical music recordings, and that’s exactly how long they are when they’re played back-to-back. He’s actually an amazingly talented painter.”

  “He is?”

  She nodded. “Uh-huh. So, when he’s painting, I do my own work. It’s the only chance I get, until the evening. Noah has dinner at six o’clock exactly, then he has a bath and watches a recording of a show he likes, then he goes to bed every single night at exactly eight o’clock. He sleeps like a rock and never leaves his bed. So I can also get some work done after he goes to sleep.”

  “What’s your work?”

  “I’m a freelance designer. I do logos, websites, magazines, promotional materials. Right now, I’m working with a local restaurant and designing everything from scratch: menus, business cards, vouchers, logo, website. Everything. It’s great, and I have the flexibility I need to take care of Noah.”

  Jax was quiet again.

  “Jax? What?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “When?”

  “Yesterday. Why didn’t you tell me why you had to get home by a certain time? Why did you – I don’t know. Act so squirelly when I showed up today? Closed the door, wouldn’t let me in to the house? You still won’t let me in.”

  She looked down. “Yeah. I’m sorry about that. It’s just – I don’t know you, Jax, and I’m always in defensive mode when it comes to new people. People are sometimes… cruel.” She glanced over at the lot across the street, at the kids sitting there. “They say and do terrible things to Noah, and he may be autistic, but he’s not stupid or deaf. He knows when people are being awful, and it hurts him. It hurts me, too.”

  “And you thought I’d say or do something cruel?”


  “No, I never thought that about you,” Sarah said. “But I wasn’t sure how Noah would react to you. He’s not – not good with men. He’s scared of them, quite often. Especially big men.”

  Jax studied her. “Hey, Sarah. Look at me.”

  She raised her eyes to his, saw something in those green depths that she didn’t understand or recognize.

  “Can I ask you out?”

  She started at the dramatic change in topic. “You – what?”

  He enjoyed the look of surprise on her beautiful face. “Yeah. As you may recall, I actually owe you a fruity drink.”

  “Oh, Jax… it’s OK. You can forget about it.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” he asked. “What if I want you to come back to the bar and have your drink? Maybe stay for two drinks? Go for a ride on the bike after?”

  She blinked. “I – really?”

  “Yeah. Really.” He smiled. “How about tonight? After Noah goes to bed at eight?”

  “Not tonight.” She shook her head. “My Mom’s working until ten at the diner and I can’t leave him alone.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “I have a deadline for Wednesday morning. I’ll be working late tomorrow night.”

  “Wednesday?” Jax was determined to keep asking until she agreed.

  “I – uh.” Sarah hesitated. “Ummm. Yeah, actually. Wednesday would be OK. Mom will be home by about six-thirty and she’s good at putting Noah to bed. So… I guess I could.”

  “You don’t have a car right now… should I come and pick you up here?”

  Sarah thought about her mother’s reaction if a huge, tattooed biker showed up to get her for a date. “Um, no. I can find my own way to the bar. If I come.”

  “OK, then,” Jax grinned. “Wednesday. Yeah?”

  “Oh, Jax… I’m not sure that –”

  He stood up. “I’ll be there from seven o’clock on, so I’ll see you any time after that, OK?”

  She looked up at him. “I haven’t actually said yes, Jax.”

  “Yeah. But you haven’t actually said no.” He headed down the porch steps. “A man can only hope, Red.”

  Chapter Five

  Jax got to Dangerous Curves at seven o’clock on Wednesday evening, feeling nervous. One minute, he was sure Sarah would show up; the next, he was equally certain he’d never see her again. And he didn’t know which scenario freaked him out more.

  Aidan grinned at his boss. “Hey, man.”

  Jax sat at the bar, running his hands through his black hair over and over again. Aidan knew that was Jax’s big tell: the man was a bundle of nerves. “You got all the stuff?”

  Aidan nodded. “Yep. Triple sec, cranberry juice, fresh limes. I even went out and got a cocktail shaker and the right kind of glass.” He displayed it for Jax who blinked at it in astonishment. “It’s called a martini glass. Very elegant, no?”

  Jax nodded back at him, not having a clue what the hell else to do. “Yeah. Nice.”

  “Uh-huh.” Aidan was amused. “So, you think she’ll show?”

  Jax automatically looked at the door. “Dunno.”

  As he stared at it, it opened and he jumped to attention, but slumped a bit when he saw that it was Mac and King. They spied Jax and came over, smirking.

  “What are you two doing here?” Jax said. “You never come in this early.”

  They sat down, looking totally innocent.

  “Just felt like a beer is all,” Mac said. “No such thing as too early for beer, is it?”

  Jax stared at them. “You’re here to see if Red shows.”

  “Oh, is Red coming tonight?” King asked. “We had no fucking idea.”

  Jax looked at Aidan accusingly.

  “I may have mentioned it,” Aidan admitted. “Just in passing, you know?” He smirked. “When I called them this afternoon and said you’d invited her back.”

  Jax sighed then jumped again as the door opened. And slumped again when he saw that it was one of the numerous blondes he’d fucked in one of the crash rooms.

  Dear God. What the hell is wrong with me, anyway? I’m all tied up in knots over a woman I barely know. But Jesus Christ… just please let her walk through that door. Just this one favor, just this one time, OK? Please?

  The door opened a third time, and Jax got to his feet when he saw Sarah standing there. Her curls were wild and fiery, and she was wearing jeans and a loose blouse and she looked fucking amazing. Her blue eyes were brilliant and warm as she gazed across the room at Jax, and when she smiled at him, his heart jumped in his chest.

  Oh, man. You’ve got it bad.

  **

  Sarah watched Jax walk across the bar floor to her, and took a steadying breath.

  You’re just collecting on your bet, girl. That’s it. One drink, then you go. Maybe two. But no more than two. Any more than that, and you’ll end up in serious trouble. ‘Cause this guy? Has trouble written all over his gorgeous face. Dear God, look at those arms and that chest in that tight t-shirt.

  Jax stopped right in front of her, those intense green eyes blazing down at her. “Hey, Red.”

  “Hey, Stud.”

  They grinned at each other.

  He nodded towards the other men. “Come on. The boys want to say hi to you.”

  Jax put one large hand on her lower back and gently steered her to the bar. She smiled at the guys and they stood up to greet her.

  “Hey, sweet thing.” Mac gave her a hug and Jax fought down the sudden urge to beat him senseless. It occurred to him that Mac had seen Sarah vulnerable and hurt in a way that none of the rest of them had, and that gave the two of them a kind of bond. Jax was fiercely sorry that he hadn’t been able to be there for her in that way, when she’d needed it so badly.

  Mac pushed Sarah’s hair back off her face. “Let’s see you.” He gently touched the bruises under the makeup, removed the bandage to look at the stitches. “You look good. Any pain? Dizziness? Nausea?”

  She shook her head. “None.”

  “Really?”

  “I swear.”

  Mac gently put the bandage back on. “OK, then.”

  King gave her a nod. “Listen, I’ve got your car over at my garage, and I figure it’ll be ready by tomorrow. Me and one of the boys will drive it over to you. Jax says that afternoons are good for you, between about one o’clock and five o’clock. Yeah?”

  She stared. “I – sorry, what? You’ve replaced the tires?”

  “Yeah. And we did a few other repairs that needed doing, just while we were at it.”

  She looked worried. “Oh, King. I don’t think I can afford…”

  He waved his huge hand. “It’s all on me.”

  That stopped her. “It is?”

  “Yep.”

  She regarded him, took in the warmth in his steady gray eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “Yep.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly. “I really appreciate it.”

  He looked embarrassed and drank some beer. “So, me and Chris will drop it off around two-ish. That works for you?”

  She nodded.

  “OK, Sarah.” Jax’s hand was on her lower back again. “Let’s go sit in a booth. Aidan will bring you your drink.”

  She looked over at Aidan. “You even got the fancy glass, I see.”

  “You bet your sweet ass I did.” Aidan winked at her. “No way I was serving you your victory drink in a fucking beer mug.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jax said. “Come on.”

  He took her to the booth farthest from the bar and sat her down. He debated for a second, then slid in next to her. Sarah sucked in her breath as that large, muscular body settled just inches away from hers.

  “This OK, doll?’ he asked.

  “Yeah.” Her voice sounded hoarse. “It’s fine.”
r />   He glanced down and saw the necklace dangling between her perfect breasts, the new chain glittering on her warm skin. And that one small glimpse was enough to make his cock harden mercilessly and his breath catch. He reached out slowly, not wanting to scare her, and touched the chain. “You’re wearing it.”

  “Yes.” She looked up at him.

  Their eyes met and held. Sarah felt a tightening in her pussy, a fluttering that she’d never felt before. Good God, he was just so… male. So huge and hot, and she just wanted him to wrap those arms around her. She knew they’d feel wonderful.

  Oh, no. You’ve got it bad, girl.

  **

  Two hours and two Cosmopolitans later, Mac, King and Aidan approached the table. Jax saw them coming and shot them a quizzical look.

  “Sarah?’ King said. “Can we talk to you about something?”

  Jax suddenly knew what it was about, and he closed his eyes briefly. He’d have preferred to put this conversation off until another time, but he knew King. The man wanted to take care of this business, and the sooner the better.

  She looked up at the men. “Uh. Sure.”

  They sat, and Jax moved closer to Sarah. She was pressed right up against his body now, but she didn’t seem to mind, he was happy to notice. He rested his arm on the booth seat behind her, feeling like he almost had it around her shoulders.

  “We want to go and pay Dave a visit,” King said.

  Jax sighed. King was a man of very few words, and he was fond of getting right to the point, but Jax thought that maybe he could have introduced the whole topic a bit more tactfully.

  Sarah looked across the table at King, totally confused. “Dave Townsend? My ex?”

  “That’s the fucker,” King said. “Where is he?”

  “OK, wait… I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” She shook her head. “Are you saying that you’re going to… beat him up?”

  “For starters.”

  She looked around the table. “All of you?”

  They nodded. She looked shocked.

  “Listen, doll.” Jax’s voice was gentle. “We look like hard asses, I know, and in some ways, I guess we are. But the fact is, we can’t just stand by and watch a woman get beat on. Dave hurt you – bad. We want to make sure he understands that it’s not OK to treat women like that.”

 

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