“It crossed my mind you’d stood me up.”
She gave him a horrified stare. “I’d never do that. I should have called. Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. It’s fine.” He picked up the drinks menu. “Do you want wine? Or a cocktail maybe?”
“Wine would be lovely. You pick.”
Jax ordered a bottle of merlot, and there was a moment of silence while they both perused the menu.
“How come you’re working so late?” he asked when she closed her menu.
She rolled her eyes. “Demanding client. It gets like this every year around this time. Another couple of weeks, and I should be through the worst of it.”
“There’s more to life than work.”
Indie grinned. “Says the man who’s taken on a project many would run a mile from. Speaking of which, how are the renovations going?”
“Really well. We’re definitely on track to open on New Year’s Eve.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Will ten weeks be enough time?”
Jax shrugged. “It’ll have to be. It’s all I’ve got.” He nodded for the waiter to pour the wine. “And we’re already booked up, which, I have to say, I’m thrilled about.”
“I can’t wait to see it finished. That is, if I get an invite.” She gave him a look that set his insides on fire. She was going to be the death of him—or his savior.
“Your name’s the first on the list, although don’t tell my brothers.”
She made a zipping motion across her mouth. “Not a word.” She took a sip of wine, and Jax couldn’t stop his eyes from falling to her lips. The urge to kiss her was almost unbearable.
“You mentioned your brothers when we first met. How many do you have?”
“Three. Calum and Cole are twins, and Nate’s the youngest.”
“It must be nice having so many siblings.”
“It is. Like all families, we argue a lot, but they mean the world to me. What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”
“A brother.” She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “We’re not close.”
“I’m sorry.”
She lowered her eyes and fiddled with the silverware. “I’m not.”
A few seconds scraped by while Indie stared at her hands. Her eyes eventually met his. “Sorry to be so abrupt but, well…” She sighed. “Our relationship is difficult. Complicated.” She shook her head as though to expel bad memories and gave him a brilliant smile. “So when do you think you’ll be rivaling Hilton?”
Jax laughed, even though Indie’s revelations about her brother niggled at the back of his mind. Something didn’t sit right. As she’d spoken about him, her eyes clouded over and her shoulders drooped, making her look almost defeatist. And a flash of… guilt, maybe… had crossed her face. He realized she was waiting for a response, so he pushed aside his curiosity and filed it away for later examination.
“I’ll settle for breaking even and keeping the investors off my back. At least for the first few years.”
She held her glass up. “I have no doubt you’ll make a success of the business.”
Jax touched his to hers. “I hope you’re right.”
Her lips parted, and she dampened them with her tongue. She set her wineglass back on the table. Her hand crept across the table toward his, and she very deliberately touched the tips of his fingers with hers. The caress was soft and gentle, but it made a bomb go off in his insides.
“I have a feeling that I’ve backed a winner in you, Jax.”
* * *
As they left the restaurant, a gust of wind almost blew them over. Jax managed to catch Indie, and when she didn’t try to back away, he left his arm around her waist. After a few abortive attempts, he managed to flag down a cab. As he closed the door, the noise from the street abated.
Indie gave the driver her address, but something about being in such a confined space made the earlier lightheartedness disappear. She switched between checking her phone and chewing her lip, and when she wasn’t doing either of those, she was staring out of the window. Sensing she wouldn’t welcome the interruption of her thoughts, he left her to it and used the time to send a few emails to his project manager for the renovation.
When the cab pulled up outside her apartment, Indie twisted in her seat.
“Thank you for dinner. I had a really nice time.”
Jax unhooked his seatbelt. “I’ll walk you up.”
“There’s no need.”
“I insist.”
Indie smiled. “I have a feeling not many people get away with saying no to you, Jax.”
Jax paid the fare. “Depends on whether whatever I’m fighting for is worth the effort.” He climbed out, but by the time he’d gotten around to Indie’s side of the car, she was already on the sidewalk.
“Am I worth fighting for?” she said, her chin tucked into her chest as she looked up at him through her eyelashes.
Jax tilted his head, searching her face for signs of humor. There were none. He took a step forward. When Indie remained still, he curved his hands around her face and bent his head. With his lips hovering an inch from hers, he gave her five seconds to reject him. Then he kissed her—softly at first, but within moments, he found he couldn’t hold back. He moved into her body, pushing her backward until she was pressed up against the wall of her apartment building. Her breathing escalated, her breasts squashed against him through her coat. She moaned.
Holy shit. That sound. He’d kill to hear it again.
He slipped his tongue into the seam of her lips. She tasted so sweet, so luscious, so goddamn sexy. His cock thickened and lengthened, and he instinctively circled his hips. When she returned the pressure, he made an appreciative sound in the back of his throat—a noise that seemed to break the spell, because she tore her mouth from his and turned her head to the side.
“Stop, please,” she said.
Jax instantly backed away. His chest heaved, and he felt lightheaded. It had been a long time since he’d had such a strong reaction to a first kiss. It was just as well they were still outside. The biting cold helped dampen the fire in his belly.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, the confident, self-assured woman disappearing behind someone who had more the look of a frightened teenager.
He tilted her chin up. “I don’t ever want to hear you apologize for saying ‘stop.’ Got me?”
She nodded.
“Good.” He opened the door to the lobby of her building. “Let’s get you out of the cold.”
“It’s okay. I can walk myself up.”
Jax thought about arguing, but given that she’d pushed him away, it wouldn’t reassure her if he insisted on walking her to her door.
As she crossed the lobby to the bank of elevators, he called out to her. “Oh, and Indie?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah?”
“You’re definitely worth fighting for.”
Chapter Six
Indie threw her purse and keys on the coffee table and kicked off her shoes. She left her coat where it fell and padded into the kitchen. Despite sharing a bottle of wine with Jax, she poured another glass—the portion larger than was advisable. She’d probably have a hangover in the morning, but what the hell. She needed something to quell the storm brewing within her.
Her fingers tentatively touched her lips, and she closed her eyes. They’d fit together like a perfectly oiled lock and key. Despite Phil’s warning about taking it slow, she couldn’t stop wondering if they’d fit together so well in bed. She had enough experience to know that finding someone compatible between the sheets wasn’t easy. Since moving to Queens ten years earlier at the age of eighteen, she’d had four sexual partners. She’d enjoyed sex with all of them—to a degree—but none had excited her nearly as much as that one kiss with Jaxon Brook. And that meant nothing but trouble ahead—because he wasn’t hers to keep.
She got butterflies in her stomach as she recalled his voice. You’re definitely worth fighting for.
She sank ont
o the sofa and massaged the soles of her feet. Fifteen hours in four-inch heels wasn’t to be recommended, but the circles she moved in demanded a certain look. Not to mention that her legs looked better in heels. She hadn’t missed the slow appraisal Jax had treated her to when she arrived at the restaurant. That blazing look had been worth every ounce of agony—and then some.
Phil would go crazy if he knew the effect Jax was having on her. In the ten years since Dad had died, Phil had gradually indoctrinated her into his way of thinking. Jaxon Brook Sr. had ruined their father financially, which had been the catalyst for everything that came afterward. Despite endless hours of research, neither Indie nor Phil had ever figured out what her father could have done to Jax’s father that was bad enough for him to dole out such harsh treatment. Regardless of the reason, Phil wanted revenge, and Indie had thought she wanted the same—until she met Jax.
Now… well, she wasn’t so sure. Dad was dead. Jaxon Brook Sr. was dead. What good would revenge do? It wouldn’t bring her dad back. It wouldn’t take away the years of pain and suffering and agony. Phil had been consumed by his need for revenge. She didn’t want to lose herself to it.
She massaged her temples as a headache began to pound behind her eyes. Something told her this desire for payback would end in heartbreak. The question was, whose? Hers? Phil’s?
Or Jax’s?
Jaxon’s dad was responsible for ruining everything. But did Jax deserve to pay for something that happened when he was a teen, something he would have had no control over?
No. She closed her eyes as painful memories of her childhood refused to be silenced. She recalled how her body had jarred with each blow her father landed. But she’d gotten off lightly because Phil would do something to distract him, to take her beating onto himself. And when it came to Phil, her father would really let go, putting his all into each strike.
She shouldn’t have been relieved when the cancer had finally taken him. But she had been. She couldn’t wait to escape from the Bronx to Queens, never imagining she’d end up with a financial degree that would secure her a position in a top Manhattan firm. Of course, she’d had to work hard, make lots of sacrifices, but it had all been worth it.
Sadly, for her brother, things hadn’t gone quite so well. Consumed by his hatred for the Brook family, he’d drifted from job to job, every passing year bringing more anger until she hardly recognized the sibling who had protected her as much as he could from her father’s fists. If only she could get Phil to give up this drive for revenge, he could move on with his life. But deep down, she knew he never would. No, the only way she could help her brother was to carry out his plan. She owed him so very much. And that meant Jax had to suffer.
A swift pain in her chest caused her to wince. She hated this feeling of helplessness, but she had no choice. Phil had to come first. Jax was just a guy she’d never have met if it weren’t for the history between their two families.
Indie planned to quiz him to try to find out if he knew anything. She hoped he did. It would make what she had to do easier to stomach. She’d have to be careful, though. If she wasn’t, he might get suspicious and turn the questioning back on her.
She’d leave it a few days and then contact him. No point in looking desperate—even if that was exactly what she was.
Chapter Seven
Jax waited exactly two days to call Indie—two very long days, during which he thought about her far too much. Even during the days when he was crazily busy at the hotel—which was looking more and more like the images in his head as each day passed—he still found the time to let thoughts of her creep into his mind.
That kiss… it had been something special, something to hold on to. He didn’t believe in instantaneous love, and that wasn’t what this was. But all the same, he had to admit that she invaded his thoughts far more than someone he’d been on two dates with should have.
He called up her number and lifted the phone to his ear.
“Hey, Jax.”
Excitement squeezed his insides. “Hey. Have I called at a bad time?”
“Not at all.”
A couple of seconds scraped by. He could hear her breathing, slow and steady. “About the other night—”
“I had a really good time,” Jax cut in.
She let out a soft laugh. “Despite me freaking out on you?”
“You didn’t freak out… much.”
She laughed again. “I’m glad you called. How are things going at the hotel?”
“Good. Really good.”
“I’d love to see how it’s coming along.”
“If you’re free tonight, I can show you what we’ve done.”
“I am free tonight.”
“Great,” he said. “Shall we say eight?”
“Sounds good to me.”
* * *
Jax sneezed as he cleared away the last of the debris from that day’s work. He rubbed his eyes. The floor was still a little dusty, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. In the absence of furniture, he’d tossed cushions and warm blankets onto the floor, and a bottle of wine was chilling in an ice bucket beside the hearth. The recently fitted wood-burning stove threw much-needed heat into the room. He’d dotted the space with candles, their flickering light casting the room in a soft glow that was far nicer than the stark temporary lighting the builders had installed until the renovation was complete.
When Indie knocked, he strode into the hallway and drew back the door. She was standing outside, a heavy coat almost drowning her frame, a thick cashmere scarf around her neck, and a hat tugged low over her ears. Outside, the snow had begun to fall even more heavily, and a bitterly cold northerly wind tossed around the last few remaining leaves. Winter had definitely arrived early this year.
“Come in.” He stood back and beckoned her inside. He closed the door behind her. “Here, let me take your coat.”
“Thank you.” She shrugged out of the long black overcoat. Underneath, she’d dressed in a cream cashmere sweater and skinny jeans that hugged her hips and made his fingers prickle with an urge to explore. She’d left her smooth toffee-colored hair trailing down her back, where it fell in waves almost to her waist. He longed to run his hands through it.
“Shall I take these off?” She pointed at a pair of knee-length black leather boots that gave him all sorts of ideas.
“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he said, thinking that if—no, when—he got Indie into his bed, he was definitely going to request at least one session with her wearing those boots—and nothing else.
“Great.” She let out a relieved sigh and grabbed hold of his shoulder for support as she tugged them off. She placed them upright by the front door. “They might look nice, but they are a bitch to wear.”
He chuckled as he led the way into the living room. Indie’s sharp intake of breath had him glancing over his shoulder.
“Oh, wow,” she murmured, her head twisting this way and that, taking it all in. Her eyes eventually cut to his. “Jaxon Brook, you old romantic.”
“Too much?”
She shook her head as she came farther into the room. “No one has ever done anything like this for me before.”
“You’re worth spoiling.” He lifted the bottle of wine from the cooler. “Drink?”
“Yes, please.” Indie sank to the floor and pulled a blanket over her knees. “I love the fireplace.”
“I do too. It cost a fortune, but it’s definitely been worth it.”
“This will be the main living space, then?”
He nodded. “Back there”—he pointed—“I’m planning on having a library for those who want a bit of peace and quiet. And on the far wall will be a bar area.”
He handed her a glass of wine, and they clinked glasses.
“You seem so passionate, so driven about this project. Why a hotel?”
Jax grinned. “I’m not sure. I like the idea of being around people, new folks coming through every couple days. The buzz of it all.” He sippe
d his drink. “Running a hotel wasn’t always my passion, but sometimes when life happens, you either have to go with it or rail against it. In my opinion, the latter only leads to bitterness.”
She stared into the distance as though his words had resonated with her, and then she returned to the present, her head bent to one side. “What was your passion?”
A sadness washed over him, but he brushed it aside. He’d grieved years before. No point dragging it all up again. “Acting. Stage acting, to be precise. When I was younger, I was accepted to Juilliard.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Wow. You must have been good to get into Juilliard. What changed? You didn’t like it?”
“I had to give up my place to look after my brothers when my parents died.” His heart tore a little more, as it always did when he thought about how much he’d lost. How much they’d all lost.
Indie cursed. “Oh God. I’m so sorry.”
“I still miss acting, but there wasn’t a choice. At least, not for me. Family is everything. Keeping us together consumed my every waking moment. It’s what my parents would have wanted. Thankfully, Dad left us okay financially, so I didn’t have money worries.” He grinned. “Not until I bought this money pit.”
Her eyes twinkled as she laughed with him, but then her face turned serious. “I’m sorry you had to give up your dreams—that your parents died, leaving you with so much responsibility at such a young age.”
He brushed off her sympathy but not unkindly. “It was a long time ago. What about you? You mentioned a brother. What about your parents?”
A swirl of emotions crossed Indie’s face. Dismay, hurt, anger. Jax’s curiosity ramped up before she schooled her expression and shrugged nonchalantly. “My mother died when I was very young. I don’t remember her at all. Dad brought my brother and me up. He died of cancer when I was eighteen.”
“We were both orphaned at a young age, then.”
The Blame Game: A Brook Brothers Novel Page 5