by Jill Shalvis
She’d told her sisters about yesterday’s bank rejection. Surprisingly enough, they’d been disappointed. Or at least they’d been kind enough to pretend. They’d agreed to find another lending institution, though Maddie was fairly certain neither Tara nor Chloe expected that to happen. In the meantime, they were going to stick out the month, finish up the bare-essential renovations, and then put the place on the market. Maddie hoped to open the inn and run it until it sold. Hell, who knew, maybe it’d do so well they would miraculously turn it around.
Worst-case scenario, she’d go back to LA and try to get a job through her dad’s connections, but she hoped it didn’t come to that. She was doing her damnedest not to think about it, not yet anyway. A picture of Jax flashed in her mind—the other thing she was trying not to think about—and her heart pinged, but she hoisted her glass of orange juice into the air. “To you, Mom.”
Tara and Chloe looked at her like she was nuts, but she gestured to their glasses, and they obediently picked them up. “I’d love to celebrate who you were,” Maddie said to the ceiling. “But I didn’t know you well enough. So instead, I think I’ll celebrate who we are because of you.”
“I like that,” Tara said. “Here’s to letting go of regrets and even resentments. Here’s to what might have been, and to what we will be.”
“Happy birthday, Mom,” Chloe said quietly, for once her eyes devoid of the mocking sarcasm.
“Happy birthday,” Tara and Maddie echoed.
“Oh, and happy birthday to Jerry, too,” Chloe added, and they all laughed. It was a rare moment of peace and solidarity as they clicked their glasses together.
Chloe knocked her orange juice back and set the glass on the table. “So, Tara, Maddie wants to tell you something—you snore.”
“Excuse me?” Tara’s eyes narrowed. “I do not.”
“Yes, you do. Like a buzz saw. Or a grizzly bear with sleep apnea. Tell her, Maddie.”
Maddie winced. “Okay, well—”
“You did not just compare my breathing to a grizzly bear,” Tara said to Chloe.
“And/or a buzz saw.”
Maddie sighed and reached for her knitting. Solidarity was officially over.
At dawn, Jax gave up on the pretense of sleep and got out of bed. It was ironic that he’d come back to Lucky Harbor to lead the lazy, kick-back life he’d always wanted, and yet it wasn’t in him to be lazy.
Unlike Izzy, who was sleeping like… well, a dog. “Time to get up.”
Izzy squeezed her eyes tight.
“We’re going for a run.”
Jax could have sworn that she shook her head. With a sigh, he got up and ran alone. When he got back, Izzy was waiting for him on the porch. “Did you cook breakfast?” he asked her.
She looked at him balefully, like Dude, no opposable thumbs, or I totally would have.
Jax showered and dressed, then headed into his office, where Jeanne handed him coffee and left him to himself. Three hours later, she reappeared.
“I’m all caught up. I’m going shopping for some lingerie.”
Jax winced. “And I want to know this why?”
“Because maybe you’d like me to pick up a present for somebody.”
“Like who?”
“Like the cute curly-haired Traeger sister. The one you’re in a fight with.”
“What?” He shook his head and stared at her. “How could you possibly know that?”
She smiled. “I didn’t, but you’re all broody and mopey-looking. What did ya do? Don’t tell me, it was something stupidly male, right? Should I get black and lacy, or white and sheer?”
Jesus. “You should mind your own damn business.”
“Well, that’s no fun.” She came close, gave him a sympathetic look, and kissed his cheek. “You could solve it the way Steve solves all of our fights.”
He sighed. “How does he do that?”
“Easy. Just admit you were wrong. His always being wrong really works for us.” She gently patted his arm and left him alone.
But it didn’t feel wrong to want Maddie to see him as more than an escape. It felt… weak and vulnerable, which he really hated.
But not wrong.
Stop thinking, you idiot. He moved through the office and out the back door. The morning was frosty, the cold biting into his skin, reminding him that winter had arrived. Instead of going into his wood shop, he loaded himself and Izzy into his Jeep and went for a drive.
And found himself at the inn.
It looked deserted. He let himself in, noting that it was colder inside than outside. The heater hadn’t been turned on today. He walked the ground floor, the sanded but not-yet-finished floors creaking beneath his boots as he took in the walls that still had to be painted, and the bathrooms waiting for their new vanities. He felt a surge of frustration.
It didn’t have to be like this.
When something thudded above him, he took the stairs two at a time but found the second floor empty. He hit pay dirt in the attic. The room ran the entire length of the inn. At the moment, it held most of the furniture from the other floors that had been moved to finish the floors. There were tarps everywhere and also stacks of boxes filled with God knew what, dating back to Maddie’s grandparents’ era.
It was the approximate temperature of the Arctic Circle up here, thanks to the icy air and the equally icy glance Maddie sent his way. She was sitting on the floor, holding her BlackBerry as she went through the box in front of her.
“Hey,” he said, risking frostbite by moving farther into the room.
She didn’t answer.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out what pieces of furniture are worth selling to cover this month’s bills.”
Ah, hell. “Maddie—”
“This is a no-talking zone.”
When he didn’t leave, she sighed, her expelled air coming out in a puffy mist, testament to just how cold it was. “Fine.” She jerked her head toward an unidentifiable pile in the far corner. “Can you peek under that tarp and tell me if you see an antique walnut hall bench? I know we had one. Someone’s selling a match to it on eBay for three hundred fifty dollars. If I could get half that, I’d be happy.”
He moved toward the pile. “You shouldn’t be working up here. It’s too cold.”
“Turns out financial anxiety is a great way to keep warm.”
He hated that she was so stressed about money. “Where are your sisters?”
“Drove into Seattle to check out two antique consignment shops to see if they’d be interested in working with us.”
“If you sell all the furniture, what will you use if you reopen?”
She shot him a look that said she was worried about his IQ and went back to working on her BlackBerry. There were two spots of color high on her cheeks. Her eyes were shiny, too shiny. And her lush, warm, giving mouth was tight and grim.
That’s when it hit him. She wasn’t mad at him.
She was hurt. “Maddie.”
“Go away. I hate everyone right now, and I’m pretty sure that includes you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. I really do.”
“I could change your mind about me.”
“I have no doubt, but try it and you’ll be walking funny tomorrow.”
He couldn’t help it, he laughed, and she swiveled her head toward him. “This isn’t funny! I wanted you, and you walked away!”
“I wanted you to want me, not just the—”
“You’re not just an escape, not to me. I’m just a little slower at this than you are.”
He looked into her eyes and saw the truth. Remembering Jeanne’s words, he shook his head. “I was wrong to push.”
“Wow. A man who can say the W word. What else do you have up your sleeve?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to look yourself.”
She arched a brow. “Strip.”
Not much surprised Jax anymore, but this did, and he laughed
again as he willingly pulled off his shirt.
She stared at his chest, then his tattoos. Her eyes went a little glazed, but she lifted a shoulder, feigning indifference.
Indifference his ass.
“I’ve seen you without your shirt before,” she pointed out coolly, then murmured so quietly he would have missed it if he hadn’t leaned in, “And maybe I’d rather see you without your pants.”
“You’ve seen me without those, too.”
“You’d argue with a woman on the very edge?”
He nearly laughed again but recovered quickly, especially since she was still giving him that eat-shit-and-die look. But at least she was looking. And the rosiness of her cheeks was no longer about hurt or embarrassment. Mission half accomplished.
Holding her gaze in his, he tore open the buttons on his Levi’s, held his breath to brace for the cold, then shoved them down to his thighs.
Her eyes locked in on his forest green knit boxers. Slowly, she set down her BlackBerry and then, just as slowly, rose to her feet. “I’m trying to hate you.”
“But you can’t.”
“I could. With some more time.”
“Then I’ll change your mind,” he said.
“But I’m stubborn, remember?”
“Yes, but I’m very persuasive.”
She nibbled on her lower lip and stared at him, definitely not hating him if her hardened nipples were any indication.
“You’re…” She gestured to his erection. “Um.”
“Yeah.” He was just as shocked as she. It was fucking freezing in here.
“I thought it was supposed to shrink in the cold,” she said, eyes on “it.”
He opened his mouth, then shut it again. She was the only person on earth who could render him speechless. While he stood there, shirt off, pants at his thighs, she stood up and tore off her own sweatshirt.
She wore a pale blue satin bra that barely contained her full breasts. As he soaked in that mouthwatering sight, she unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and shoved them down. “Crap,” she said and glanced up at him. “Okay, keep in mind I didn’t plan on a striptease today. I’ve got to learn to plan ahead.”
If she was talking about the fact that her underwear was a purple lace thong instead of a match to her bra, he could care less. Combined they were going to give him a brain aneurysm.
She tried to kick her pants off, but they got caught on her boot. “And some practice wouldn’t hurt, either.”
He laughed, and she grumbled, turning away from him to bend over to untie her bootlaces.
And abruptly his amusement was gone, replaced by a wave of sheer, unadulterated lust. It was her cute little thong’s fault, the one bisecting her sweet heart-shaped ass and shooting the temperature in the room straight into the stratosphere. “Maddie—” His voice was gruff and hoarse. Probably from blood loss.
She was still fighting with her shoelaces. “Yeah?”
Before he could answer, her cell rang from the floor about five feet in front of her. Shifting gears, she crawled forward.
Yeah. He was going to have an aneurysm. He could feel it coming on.
“Can’t,” she said into her cell, still on her hand and knees. “I…” She shot him a look over his shoulder, her gaze again dipping down to the front of his tented boxers. “Gotta go.” She disconnected with a tap of her thumb. Still staring at him, she paused. “We’re in this freezing attic showing our… parts to each other.”
“Yes.”
“We need to grow up.”
“Maybe. But not today.”
She drew a breath, still staring at his erection. “Yesterday you said you wouldn’t be my escape.”
“That was a stupid statement by a very stupid man who wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“And you’re thinking clearly now?”
“Yes. This isn’t just sex between us. So if you want escape, and you want to use my body to do it, then I’m your willing victim.”
“Magnanimous of you.”
Done playing, he crooked his finger at her in the universal “come here” gesture.
She rose to her feet, took a step, and hit the floor with a heavy thud.
“Jesus.” He surged toward her and dropped to his knees, pulling her up to face him. “You okay?”
She grimaced. “Tell me you have a clumsy dork fetish.”
“Oh, I have a fetish.” Her nipples appeared to be a fraction of an inch from breaking free of her bra. He slid his hands up her ribs, his thumbs rubbing over them. “For you. For everything about you.”
She sucked in a breath.
“We have some more clothes to lose.” He bent to work on untying her shoes, and then his. They kicked them off and then finally lost their pants.
“Maybe we should lose the underwear, too,” she whispered and ran a finger over the front of his boxers, right down the length of him, making him groan and reach for her, just as the doorbell rang downstairs.
“I’m going to shoot somebody,” Maddie said.
“Sawyer hates when people do that. It’s a whole bunch of paperwork.”
The doorbell rang again, and Maddie crawled to the window.
Jax stared at her ass and crawled forward, too, planning on tearing those cute little panties off with his teeth. Then he’d grip her hips and bury himself deep in one thrust. Yeah, and then—
“It’s Lucille,” she hissed. “I can’t shoot Lucille.”
“She’ll go away.” Bending, he put his mouth to her hip, then let his tongue snake beneath the string.
“But she’s—” she whispered, slapping a hand to the window when he nipped at her with his teeth. “Oh, God.”
“Give me a minute and you’ll be saying ‘Oh, Jax.’ ” He slid a hand up the inside of her leg, not stopping until he hit lace. “Spread your legs, Maddie,” he said, kissing the back of her thigh.
She did just that, and then her other hand hit the glass, and then suddenly she stiffened, but not in a good way. “She sees me,” she hissed. “She thinks I’m waving to her.” She dropped to her knees and stared at him. “She knows you’re here. Your Jeep’s here. And I’m in the window without a shirt.”
“She’s a hundred and ten. There’s no way she could see you clearly.” He kissed her neck. “She’ll go away.”
“No, she won’t.” She batted at his hands as he went for the hook on her bra. “The last time you and I were seen together, our kiss on the pier was the talk of the town. This can’t be the talk of the town. This,” she said, giving him a poke with her elbow, “is just for you and me.”
He blew out a breath and sat back on his heels as she pulled her jeans back on, covering up that sweet ass, jumping up and down a little to work them over her hips. Her breasts jiggled, and he watched as first one and then the other nipple struggled and then managed breakaway status. Damn.
She grabbed her sweatshirt and yanked it on, inside out, covering the best view he’d had all week. “Crap.” Yanking the shirt back off, she fumbled to right it, then noticed he was just standing there. “Get dressed!”
“Can you be this bossy when we get to a bed? Cuz it’s turning me on.”
She threw his shirt at him. “Hurry up! You’re coming with me!”
“Yeah, now, see, I’d kind of hoped you’d be the one coming by now.”
She groaned. “Stop teasing me!”
Lucille talked for eight minutes. Maddie lost track of what the conversation was about, struggling to nod and act as if she was following along—for eight long minutes. And for each and every single one of them, she was overwhelmingly aware of the big, tall, silent man standing behind the door, just out of view from Lucille, radiating heat and a sexual frustration that undoubtedly matched hers.
The old Maddie had gone with the flow. Had allowed others’ needs to come before her own. “Lucille,” she said suddenly. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”
Lucille looked puzzled, but she nodded. “Okay, dear. Just come by when you ge
t a chance, and we can finish talking about the project.”
“Sure thing. I will, I promise. The, uh, project sounds really worthwhile. A great project, as far as projects go.”
She shut the door and closed her eyes. She felt Jax come up behind her, exuding testosterone and pheromones, the only project she was interested in.
A hand brushed aside her hair, and then she felt his mouth on her neck. Her head dropped back to his shoulder as his arm came around her, his hand running up her belly to cup her breast.
“I’m taking you home,” he said in a thrillingly rough voice, his thumb brushing over her nipple before he took her hand firmly in his. “To my place.”
She opened her mouth to say “Hell, yes,” but he pushed her out the door ahead of him, barely giving her time to grab her purse, his big body giving her the bum’s rush.
“Jax—”
“This,” he said in a repeat of her own words, “is a no-talking zone.”
“Lucille at twelve o’clock!” she hissed, jerking her head toward the yard, where Lucille was making her way to her car. Slowly.
“Shit.” Jax yanked Maddie back inside as they watched Lucille finally get into her car.
“She’s killing me,” Jax muttered.
It took Lucille even longer to turn her car around and pull out. And then Jax was tugging Maddie down the steps, his long legs eating up the space, forcing her to run to keep up. Izzy loped alongside, ears perked up at the hope that something fun was about to happen. A laugh escaped Maddie, half nerves, half anticipation, and one hundred percent hunger.
At the Jeep, Jax pressed her up against the door and leaned in to kiss her, possessive and deep, as if he had to convince her that she wanted this as badly as he did.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she plastered herself even closer. “Drive fast,” she said and licked the rim of his ear.
He shuddered, then practically shoved her into the Jeep. They drove in silence across town, the only sound being her own heartbeat drumming in her ears. She was so worked up she nearly hit the roof when he touched her thigh. “That was anticipation,” she said. “Not… you know.”