“You like me. You want to be with me. But, you want me to walk away?”
I knew I didn’t want that, but I had to be honest. “I guess.”
He looked mad as hell as he shook his head. “Lauren, you have no damn clue how I feel about you!”
I jumped, surprised by the tone.
“Baby, sorry. You‘re different from any girl I’ve met. I’ve told you that. You don’t care about all that is my life, or about the baggage, I bring to the table. You actually talk to me about everything except my work.” His lips curled up into a smile.
“But Jackson—”
“Stop. I can handle your baggage, if you can handle mine. I want you. No one, including you, is going to change my mind.” He stepped closer.
“Is that so?”
“I think,” he breathed in and tilted his head, “now is a good time to show you how happy I can make you. I’m going to help you enjoy more. Oh, I can’t wait to explore the different possibilities. I’m going to make you eat something that’s bad for you.” He smirked. “Buy something expensive for you. Force you to enjoy being the center of attention. Every desire you have, I want to fulfill it.”
One of his hands drifted around my backside, while the other cradled firmly behind my neck, as he pulled me close to his face.
I took a deep breath as he brushed his lips along the edge of my mouth.
“Every desire?” I whimpered.
“Every, last, one.” His hands began to explore.
Naughty, salacious thoughts erupted in my mind as I giggled. Not to mention, the sensory explosions my body experienced. I was having a manic, internal war. Mind versus body, and if he continued, my mind would surrender, swiftly.
He caressed my ass and placed wet kisses down my neck and across my collarbone.
I was breathless. “Jackson . . . not here.”
“We can go to my place,” he whispered.
I was very close to surrendering. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He started kissing lower. “Why?”
“We still don’t—” If he didn’t stop that, I was going to burst. I placed my hands on either side of his face and pulled him up. “Jackson. I’m not ready for this.”
He kept trying to kiss me.
“Jackson, um . . .”
He took that opening and kissed me hard. He was very determined to get his point across.
I felt my body weaken, then cave. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in closer. We kissed passionately. Then I felt heaviness weighing down harder on my chest, which made breathing a struggle. The pain was sharp, and my head started to spin. I panicked.
He noticed. “What?”
“I can’t.” Disappointment crossed his face. “I’m sorry. I . . . just can’t.”
His eyes locked with mine. “You don’t have to apologize. I thought you wanted to as much as I do.”
I was afraid to answer, afraid of what would come next. I wasn’t as ready as I thought, and I knew it could be the end.
“Jackson, I want to, but I can’t.”
He was confused.
“I understand if you don’t want to see me again.” I looked away.
Anger flushed his face. “Why would you think that?”
“I stopped the chance for us to . . . you know. I’m not stupid, Jackson. You have thousands of girls throwing themselves at you. Wanting for the chance to—”
“They’re not you!”
“I’m not like them.” I closed my eyes. I didn’t know how to explain it. Sex was too important, too intimate to me. “It’s . . . this is something I value, very much. If waiting is too much for you . . . ?”
He wrapped his arms around me. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. We can take it as slow as you want.”
A lump lodged deep in my throat. I truly didn’t get it. He could have anyone he wanted, with no stipulations—and he was a guy, with needs.
“Since we’re laying ground rules, you need to understand how hard it is for me to keep my hands off you. Expect me to try again, and keep on trying.”
My mouth dropped wide open.
“Don’t be surprised, Lauren. You’re hot.”
“What?” I breathed out.
“Very.” He grinned. “I’ll behave, and give it a try. At least I warned you ahead of time that I will slip.”
“I guess I expect that.”
“Good, because I’m about to slip again,” he added, kissing me.
Zara and Blake walked around the corner. “There you two are.”
I was thankful Blake didn’t see us first. My brother was cool, but not that cool. He would’ve flipped over that display of affection, and Blake and I fighting wouldn’t have stopped him from killing Jackson.
“You’re still mad, Sis?”
His slurred speech made it obvious he’d had a few more drinks.
“Um, yeah! Shouldn’t I be?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight. Hey, what if something happens to me while I’m gone. You would feel bad.”
“You’re trying to use fear tactics? That won’t work, Blake.” I was getting angrier by the second.
“Where are you going?” Jackson asked.
“He’s opening for Cary Baine at some benefit concert in England,” Zara answered, as she glanced at me.
“You’re that good of friends?”
“Jackson, I told you, we’ve been friends with Cary since we were kids, remember?”
“Nice of him to ask you now. Too bad he didn’t ask you before you were discovered.”
“Jackson! Cary has always supported Blake, but Blake insisted on making it on his own.”
“Is that so?”
Blake snapped at Jackson. “Cary is good people, man. He’s family, and I would watch what you say.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it, Blake. When are you leaving?” Jackson asked.
“No harm, no foul. We leave tomorrow.”
Zara grabbed Blake’s arm. “So soon?”
“I’ll be back in a couple weeks. Lauren, I forgot. Cary wanted you to meet him at three o’clock. He has the keys.”
Jackson addressed me. “What is he talking about?”
“I’m housesitting while Cary’s gone.”
“Doesn’t he have people to do that?”
I laughed. Jackson found nothing humorous. “Yes. Me. Is that a problem?”
“No problema.”
Right, as if the expression on his face didn’t say, we’ll talk about it later. Oh, and there was a huge problem.
“Could you two excuse us for a moment?” Jackson said. He guided me to a more secluded area of the garden.
I assumed we were going to hash it out.
“Why can’t you tell me why you and Cary don’t like each other?” I wanted to know.
He started to pace around the garden. “I already told you, we worked for the same agency. Something went down, and we ended up on opposite sides.”
“What happened? You guys are friends.”
“Past tense, Lauren. Yes, we were friends, at one point, but Cary couldn’t be trusted.”
I grabbed hold of Jackson’s arm to stop the pacing. “That is not true. And that doesn’t sound like Cary.”
“We don’t see eye-to-eye, okay?” he yelled.
“All right? But, can you understand that he is important to us. To me?”
“What is he to you, Lauren? It seems like a hell of a lot more than friends.”
“He’s family!”
“Family doesn’t get possessive when a member goes on a date. Family doesn’t take it upon themselves to overstep their boundaries when the boyfriend has everything under control. You forget I once knew him. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Covers you.”
Jackson was getting angrier, and diffusing the situation was on the forefront of my mind.
I reached out to touch his cheek. “Jackson, I told you that Cary and I have been friends since we were kids. He thinks of me as his little siste
r.”
“Then should I be more concerned with how you think of him?”
How was I supposed to answer that?
There was no way I could explain my history with Cary without jeopardizing what we could have. “Cary is family and always will be, Jackson. I’m with you.”
“I know, Lauren!”
At that moment, in his eyes, I could see the end for us. “This is what’s going to come between us?”
Jackson positioned himself closer. He placed his hand under my chin and raised my head so that we were face-to-face.
He stared into my eyes. “He will never come between us.”
When I arrived at Cary’s, the doorman directed me to the concierge, who handed me the house keys. I assumed Cary would be there to give them to me, but I was wrong.
His building looked different from what I remembered, but I had not paid too much attention, due to the circumstances. It was newly built, modern in style, and stood out in the neighborhood, as it looked more like a luxury hotel with all the pretentiousness included.
The staff was friendly and kind. The woman at the concierge desk told me about all the amenities offered: private spa and fitness club, two restaurants, a media center, and library. Concierge also provided twenty-four hour service for their residents. With all that, I never wanted to leave.
Cary’s apartment was one of four on the top floor, with private key access. Remembering which one was Cary’s wasn’t too hard, since his had the only blue double doors.
As soon as I entered the apartment, Cary’s soulful music surrounded me. My heart sighed, as my favorite song played in the background.
Putting down my stuff, I walked toward the terrace, opened the door, and felt a strong wind whip by me. It had been raining on and off all day. I loved rainy days, but it seemed more of a tropical storm. The entire south side of Cary’s apartment was windows, and all I could hear was debris hitting them.
As I stepped farther outside onto the terrace, I could see the entire city, even past the bridge. In spite of the weather, and the wall of rain coming in from the distance, it was beautiful. Strings of lightning illuminated the clouds, creating a surreal sight.
Staring into the horizon, while enjoying the soft music, I found myself drifting off. Cary put a lot of emotion into his music. So much so, his listeners could feel everything he was trying to convey.
The scent of spices from the street market below mixed with the moist smell of the rain. It was affecting and aromatic. I was beginning to love Cary’s home already.
“I bought this place for the view. It’s brilliant,” Cary spoke from behind me.
The tension in my body released as footsteps approached. He leaned on the railing.
“You bought it?” I asked.
“It’s a good investment, and I plan to stay for a while.”
I turned to face him. “You’re full of surprises.”
“New Orleans is quite beautiful.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I feel bad disturbing you. You looked . . . relaxed, peaceful.”
“I was. I am. This was a great idea, and a perfect way for me to have some time to myself. Do you know this is the first time I’ll ever be alone in a house for more than a night?”
“You’re always welcome to kick me out anytime, love.” He flashed his signature grin.
“This is my favorite song,” I said, trying not to show him how much it affected me.
“Really?”
“Why are you surprised?”
“Because it’s nothing like the others. I wrote this in one night when I couldn’t sleep.”
“I can tell.”
He scowled. “That bad?”
“Not at all. This one’s different.”
“A-ha. Well, now I know, different is good.”
“Very good.”
“The critics hated this song. One said it put him to sleep.”
“They wanted to hear your normal rock stuff. Didn’t they make fun of the time you collaborated with that folk singer? I do believe you won a Grammy that year for it.”
He stared at me for a moment. “I should hire you as my publicist.”
“Are these songs going on a new CD? I don’t have the song that’s playing now.”
“Working on it. I played around in the studio one day and put these together.”
“I like it.”
“It’s yours.”
“Huh, well, I really like your place—can I have that, too?” I chuckled.
“Greedy, aren’t we?”
“Yes, but the view is the best feature. Not saying the rest of the place isn’t nice. I may have to paint this view.”
“Did you bring your stuff?” He looked over at my bags.
“I should’ve. It’s been a while. My paints are probably dried out by now.”
“You know, my favorite childhood memory was the summer when you would paint that run-down old church while I played Grace.”
“I forgot you used to name your guitars.”
“Every one of them.”
“That was an amazing summer.” I sighed.
Cary took my hand. “Don’t stop painting. You always underestimate your talents, Lauren. Please don’t let this one go unused.”
I looked down at our joined hands before he released it.
“Um . . . piano?” I asked, as a new song came on.
“Something else I was trying.”
“Why don’t you play more?”
“Why don’t you paint more?”
“Time, I guess.”
“I play sometimes during rehearsals. You should hear my drum solo.” He started mimicking playing the drums, and we both laughed.
“It must be nice to be able to play everything.”
“Not as though I had a choice with Dad.”
It started to thunder.
“I thought you had left town already.”
“You thought I would leave without saying goodbye?” He almost sounded hurt.
“When they gave me the keys downstairs—and a lot of information, by the way—I assumed . . .”
“Assumed I wouldn’t be here?”
“You’re busy.”
“Never too busy for you, love.”
The air around us changed, as we looked in the other’s eyes. I didn’t want him to go, but it was inevitable.
“You’re going to be late.”
He sighed. “Yeah.”
We walked back inside and into the kitchen.
“You’re set up in the guestroom suite. It’s the last door down the hall from here. It’s larger than the one you were in before, and quite nice.”
“I didn’t realize you had two guestrooms.”
“I have three.”
“You were expecting a few guests?”
“I told you to visit anytime.” He winked. “The place will be serviced every day, meaning do not clean. Someone will ring daily to pick up your dry cleaning. I asked Chef Marcel to prepare breakfast for you daily. He’ll contact you regarding what you want for lunch and dinner. If you prefer to eat in the restaurant, he can arrange that. Anything you want, it’s yours. Everyone knows who you are, and will be available. I left all the information here with a list of contact numbers. Did I miss anything?”
“Cary, this is too much.” I waved my arms around the room. “I can clean, cook, and do stuff myself.”
“You’re my guest, enjoy it.”
Enjoy. My newfound word.
He reached for his bag and guitar as we walked to the double doors.
“I’m going to miss you, Cary.”
“I’ll be back soon.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Ruben will be staying close. Nothing changes.”
“I wouldn’t expect it to. I need a date anyway for a party.”
“What party, Lauren?”
“Primal Darkness post-production party. Shooting finishes this week. They’re throwing it next weekend to celebrate.”
“You’re going?”
/> “Of course. The nice thing is I don’t have to work. They’re using another caterer for the event. A reward to Ashley for doing an exceptional job, so we can enjoy the party.”
“Be careful.”
“Okay?”
“I wish Blake and I could be there.”
“I’ll be fine. Jackson will be there.” Normally, I would have laughed at Cary’s expression, but it turned sour. “This . . . thing between you and Jackson has to stop, Cary. I spoke to him about your history, and he gave me some lame excuse about how you worked for the same agency and something went down. You were friends, Cary, and now you’re mortal enemies?”
“There’s more to it, Lauren.”
“Then tell me! What happened to make you both hate each other?”
He scowled. “I’m going to be late. We’ll talk about it later.”
“I doubt that. You two seem to evade the question, rather than tell me the truth.”
That pissed him off.
“I didn’t lie to you!”
“I’m not saying you lied, Cary, you evade.”
He stepped in closer. “What’s going to happen when Jackson leaves?”
“Now you are evading by changing the subject.” We stood, eyeing each other. “We’re going to stay friends, Cary. Even when he goes back to L.A.”
“As if that’s going to work.” He rolled his eyes.
“Weren’t you running out of here?” I looked at the doors.
“Now who’s dodging the subject?”
“Cary, you’ve made it clear how you feel about Jackson and me. And recently us.”
He grimaced.
“You need to remember I went into this relationship with Jackson knowing it could be temporary. Actually, I’m surprise it lasted this long. Anyway, he’s filming another movie in Spain over the summer, and he asked me if I wanted to come with him. I told him I would have to . . .” I stopped. “Don’t give me that look. I’m going to think about it.”
His frown grew, and he became angry. “You’re thinking about going to Spain with him!”
I wasn’t going to fight with Cary, especially before he left the country.
“You’re going to be super late.”
He looked at his watch and opened the door. “Yeah, I have to go.”
I nodded. “We can talk about it later. Starting with you telling me your history with Jackson.”
The Devil has a British Accent: Book One: Jackson (White Carpet #1) Page 21