by Jill Shalvis
“Through a window. The flames were blocking the door, and the window was painted shut. I broke out the glass with a chair.”
He was probably holding her too tight, but he couldn’t let go. She smelled like smoke and ash, was filthy from head to toe, and she’d never looked better to him. “Chloe and Tara?”
“Chloe had an asthma attack. That’s who is in the ambulance. Tara rode with her.”
Weak with relief, Jax sat on the rock wall and held her in his lap, opening the blanket she had around her so he could get a good look at her. She wore only a T-shirt and panties. Her arms and legs were streaked with dirt and soot. Her knees were scraped and bleeding. Gently he took her hands in his and turned them over. She had a few cuts on her palms.
The thought of that stuck window had his blood running cold. A couple more minutes and it would have been too late. With as much care as he could, he wrapped her back up in the blanket and looked at the EMT. Jax had gone to school with Ty Roberts, and they sometimes played flag football together on the Rec league.
“She’s refusing to be taken in,” Ty said.
“It’s just a few cuts,” Maddie murmured. “That’s all.” She was back to watching the inn. The firefighters had a good handle on it now. The flames were nearly gone.
Ty looked meaningfully at Jax and then to the ambulance. He wanted to take Maddie in.
“Maddie.” Jax made her look at him. “Let me take you to the hospital. We can check on your sisters and get you cleaned up.”
“Not until it’s over.”
So they sat there and watched the blaze. When the flames were completely out, Sawyer spoke to the fire chief, then came over. “When the cottage caught fire, the wind carried sparks to the inn’s roof. That’s how the second floor ignited. They were able to contain it there.” He squatted beside Maddie and ducked his head until he could see into her eyes. “They’re not going to let you go in there until tomorrow. It’s okay to leave. I want you to get into the second ambulance and go get checked out.”
“No, I’m fine, I—”
“You’re going,” Jax said, willing to out-stubborn her. “I’ll take you.”
Maddie opened her eyes when the Jeep came to a stop. It wasn’t quite dawn, and the sky was still inky black.
Christmas morning.
For a minute she sat still, remembering the panic of waking up choking on smoke, the flames licking at the bedroom door, and watching Chloe fight for air…
God. Chloe was okay, or she would be. At the hospital, they’d learned she was being held overnight for smoke inhalation. Tara was staying with her, and Maddie could have, as well, but Jax had stepped in. “She’s coming with me.”
Four simple words that had filled Maddie’s head while the nurse had cleaned and dressed her wounds—no stitches required, thankfully—and then given her a pair of scrubs to wear.
She’d been too numb and tired to argue with Jax.
No, that wasn’t true. She was tired, to-the-bone exhausted, but she could have still argued. After all, she had no reason to go home with him.
Except she didn’t want to be alone in a hospital chair.
She wanted to be held.
She wanted to feel safe.
The Jeep’s heater had been on her full blast as they left the hospital, but she was still shivering. She felt like her teeth were going to rattle right out of her head. Jax had driven with his left hand, keeping his right hand on her, rubbing up and down her thigh, squeezing her icy fingers with his warm ones.
The passenger door opened, and she jerked.
“Just me,” Jax murmured, having exited the Jeep and come around for her. Crouching at her side, he unhooked her seat belt and held her for a moment, fiercely, before lifting her into his arms.
“I can walk,” she said, even though she made no attempt to do just that.
“Pretend you still believe I’m that superhero.”
With a sigh, she looped her arms around his neck and pressed her face to his throat, breathing him in. The scent of him filled her, and her burning throat tightened.
She already missed him. Letting out a shuddery breath, she kept her eyes closed as she heard him open his front door and make a low comment to a sleepy Izzy. A few moments later, he let her feet slide to the floor.
Because she was still barefoot, she could tell she was on tile. But this tile was deliciously warm thanks to his heated floors.
Keeping one arm around her, he leaned away for a beat, and she heard the shower go on. “You’re shaking,” he said.
“I think that’s you.”
“Maybe.”
She opened her eyes and found his, dark and shadowed with concern.
“Do you know how fast that fire moved?” he asked. “How much of a miracle it is you all got out?” He ran a hand over his eyes. “Christ, Maddie. If you hadn’t woken up when you did…”
Her heart caught at his raw voice. “But I did,” she whispered, reaching for him. “I’m okay, Jax. Look at me. I’m indestructible, apparently.”
“Resilient,” he said and tilted her face up, looking at her from fathomless eyes. “Strong and giving and resilient.”
She thought about the things that meant so much to her and could count them with the fingers on one hand. Her sisters. The inn.
Jax.
And all of it was in jeopardy. “I’m still mad at you,” she whispered.
“I know.”
She pressed a hand to her heart, which ached more than her cuts and bruises, and then to his. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Today. Whatever it is.” Words failed her past that. She wanted comfort, and she wanted to feel alive, and she knew he could provide both.
“You need to get in the shower and warm up.”
“With you.”
Pressing his forehead to hers, he let out a slow breath. His hands, when he lifted them to her, were careful on her body as he stripped her out of the scrub top, taking in each and every one of her cuts and bruises. Then he slid the bottoms down her legs and paused at the sight of her Supergirl bikini panties. “Did I ever tell you,” he murmured, dropping to his knees to press a kiss to her bruised hip, “that I’m pretty convinced you have your own superpowers?”
Bending her head to take in the top of his, she gave him a shaky smile that she knew didn’t make it to her eyes. “What are they?”
“The power to get past all my walls…”
“Jax.” She closed her eyes as he hooked his thumbs in the sides of the undies to slowly drag them down. She gasped when her world tilted as he picked her up and deposited her into the shower. He stepped in behind her and, without a word, washed her hair and then her body, quickly and efficiently.
She could feel him behind her, hard and aroused, but his touch remained gentle and soothing. It was just as well. With exhaustion sneaking up on her again, she could do little more than lean against him.
The next thing she knew, the water was shut off, and he wrapped her in a big, soft towel. He redressed her cuts, drew one of his own big, soft T-shirts over her head, and placed her on his bed.
She heard him move to the door. “Jax—”
“Sleep.”
“ ’Kay.” She listened to him moving around the house for a while. His phone rang, and she heard him quietly telling someone he had her.
He had her.
It was true, she realized. He had her heart and soul…
No. That wasn’t right. He’d held back from her. Was still holding back…
Or was that her?
God, she was so confused, and tired…
“Sleep,” he said again, back in the room now, running a hand down her arm.
She caught his fingers in hers. “Stay,” she said, tightening her fingers on his.
“Always.” The mattress dipped beneath his weight, and then she was carefully scooped up against his big, warm body. Their legs were entangled like it was the most natural thing in the world, as if they’d been sleeping together for years. His touch slid
over her like a soothing balm, making her ache from deep inside, making her shiver for more. “Just for tonight,” she whispered, snuggling in, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear.
Just for tonight.
Another lie, of course. She’d fallen for him, just as she’d fallen for her sisters, for the inn. And she was losing them all, one by one. She felt the sting of tears against her closed eyelids and, to hide them, buried her face into his throat.
His hands slowly stroked over her body, tender but sure. She knew he was offering comfort, but she took more, pressing in closer, anticipation humming through her. They were on their sides facing each other, and she drew a leg over his. Rocking her hips, she let the very tip of him, velvet over steel, slide into her.
He groaned roughly and tightened his grip on her, holding her still. “Maddie. You’re hurt—”
She impaled herself, and, with another groan, he rolled her beneath him, filling her so entirely she saw stars. Bending low, his lips rested on the strong pulse in her throat, and she both felt and heard her name on a whispered breath.
Restless, she ran her hands down his back, digging her fingers into him, urging him on. Lifting his head, he held her gaze prisoner as he began to move within her, long, slow, delicious thrusts, a mind-blowing grinding of his hips. On the edge, her eyes began to drift shut in sheer, numbing pleasure.
“No, look at me. Feel me. Feel us.”
Opening her eyes, she looked right at him. She saw her life, her heart echoed in his eyes, and she burst in a kaleidoscope of colors and emotion, unlike anything she’d ever felt.
When she could breathe again, he was waiting for her, still hard inside her. His forearms were alongside her face, his hands cupping her head. “I love you,” he said, honest and sure, more a vow than a confession as he thrust into her and came, sending her spiraling again.
It was the last thing she remembered before sleep claimed her.
Twice she woke them both up with nightmares, hyperventilating and caught up in the sense of being trapped. In between the dreams, she tossed and turned.
Jax would have fought her demons for her if he could, she knew that by the way he spent the hours holding her close. It was close to noon before she woke up fully, and she opened her eyes to find Jax watching her.
“It’s gone,” she said, voice still a little hoarse. She knew her eyes were puffy and red, and that her hair had to be as wild as ever. “It’s Christmas, and it’s all gone.”
Propping his head up on his hand, he used his other to tug her in close. “Yes.”
Closing her eyes, she swallowed hard and pressed her face into his chest, her scratched-up arm gliding up to hook around his neck. She felt her tears wet both of their skin, and he made a low sound of regret. “You’ll rebuild,” he said.
She shook her head.
“There’s fire insurance on the property.”
It wasn’t the words that set her off. It was the reality that he’d always known more about all of this than she did, even though it was her life. Not his fault, not her fault, she got that. It was no one’s fault, but it didn’t make it any easier.
Worse, even if they rebuilt, they’d still sell, because that’s what her sisters wanted. Majority rules.
It devastated her.
As did knowing that walking away meant walking from Jax, too. She rolled out of the bed and began jerking on clothes. His clothes.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You just remembered you’re mad at me.”
Mad? More like confused as hell. She turned to the door, wearing his sweatpants, a Henley, and her heart in tatters on the sleeve.
“Maddie.” He snagged her hand in his, halting her progress.
“I’m going to call a cab to go to the hospital.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I’ll take you.”
He drove her in silence, not saying a word until she went to get out of the Jeep. Taking her hand in his, he brought it up to his mouth and kissed her bandaged palm. “You used to be afraid of me, and I understood that. But now it feels like you’re afraid of what you feel for me. Of what I feel for you. And that I don’t understand. Not one bit, Maddie.”
Her eyes misted, and she shook her head in denial, causing him to pull her over the console and into his lap, nose to nose. Though he was careful not to hurt her, he wasn’t gentle. “You think you’re losing everything,” he said, running his hands up her arms. “But it’s not true. You have the power to stop this, Maddie. To not give up. Make a stand. Make a stand and take what you want.”
Chapter 25
“Remember, it’s always better to be the
smartass rather than the dumbass.”
PHOEBE TRAEGER
Maddie sat on the dock at the marina, each exhalation a little white cloud in front of her face as she watched the sun make its route across a quiet sky. Behind her was the burned-out shell of her dream. In front of her, the Pacific Ocean was rough and churning this morning, matching the pitch in her stomach.
She dropped her head to her bent knees and squeezed her eyes shut. She’d just left the hospital. She was supposedly grabbing breakfast for her sisters and then going back to pick them up. But she needed a moment to herself, so she’d come here first. She felt empty and exhausted and defeated.
And sad.
So damn sad. It wasn’t the loss of the cottage or her things. She’d survived far worse.
Jax loved her. Her. He wanted her to make a stand. Take what she wanted.
But it wasn’t that easy, not for her.
It could be, said a little voice. Angrily, she swiped at a tear, then went still when she heard footsteps. Someone steady on their feet, but not trying to sneak up on her.
Jax.
She felt the weight of his jacket as he wrapped it around her, surrounding her with warm leather and his scent.
Lethal combination.
He crouched at her side, eyes dark and full of so many things she couldn’t put her finger on a single one of them. His familiar easy smile was nowhere in sight. The lines etched around his eyes and mouth spoke of exhaustion and worry.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered.
“There are some things that need to be said.”
“Jax—”
“Not by me.” He looked over his shoulder at someone and nodded.
More footsteps sounded. Tara. She walked past Jax, and the two of them exchanged a long look. Jax’s was warm and encouraging, but Tara’s was guarded and tense, and dread filled Maddie. “What’s going on?”
Tara sat next to Maddie. She was wearing scrubs and smelled like some odd combination of hospital disinfectant and smoke, but other than that, she appeared no worse for wear from the fire. “We need chairs out here, sugar. This is beyond undignified.”
Maddie looked at Jax, who gave her a tight smile that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. Then he turned and walked away. She opened her mouth, but Tara reached for her hand. “He brought me here. Said it was time. He’s been telling me that for weeks now, but I think he’s about done with subtleties.” She sighed. “So am I.”
“Oh, God.” Maddie stared at her, afraid to breathe. “This isn’t the part where you tell me you’re sleeping with him, right?”
“Oh, Lord love a duck. No, I’m not sleeping with him—not that he isn’t one fine man. One really fine hot man, but honey, he’s yours. He’s been yours from day one.”
Maddie started to shake her head, but Tara squeezed her hand. “I know you’re upset with him. He was holding back information you feel he should have shared, and you’re right. You’re one hundred percent right to believe that when you’re in love with a man, he should definitely tell you he’s holding the note on the property that you consider your home, except—”
“Wait a minute.” Maddie could have used some oxygen from that cute EMT about now. “No one said anything about love.”
Tara rolled her eyes. “… Exceeeeept,” she said. “It wasn’t his place to tell
you. He’d made a promise.”
“But—”
“I know. In a relationship, you share things, but as it turns out, he was protecting someone.” She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was very quiet and halting. “He was protecting someone you know.”
“Who?”
“Phoebe. And…” Tara shook her head and slumped as if the weight of the world was heavy on her back. She covered her face with her hands. “Me. I lied to you, Maddie. From the very beginning, I lied right to your face, and then I pulled a double punch by going to Jax and begging him to keep his promise, to keep this from you and Chloe.” Shame laced every word that tumbled from her mouth.
Maddie stared at her, floored. “But… why?”
“Because I couldn’t handle the truth coming out, not if I had to be here again. God, it hurt to be here again, still does.”
“You couldn’t handle what coming out? And what do you mean ‘again’? You told me you’ve never been here before.”
“No. You assumed that.” Tara rubbed at her chest absently, as though to soothe an unrelenting ache, and cleared her throat. “I should start at the beginning.”
“Okay.” Maddie nodded, heart pounding. “That’s a good idea.”
Tara stared out at the water. The air was heavy with sea salt and the acrid scent of burnt wood. It was chilly, but Maddie wasn’t feeling a thing past the icy ball of hurt in her chest.
“A few years back,” Tara said. “Someone near and dear to Phoebe needed money. Phoebe didn’t have any, but she wanted to help. She mortgaged the resort property.” Her voice seemed distant, as though she was trying to remove herself somehow from the words she was saying.
“To Jax,” Maddie said. “He lent her the money.”
“Yes. He’d grown up here and had always been kind to her, and he’d recently come back to town and had been known for helping out financially when anyone needed it. She needed it.”