Housekeeping

by Summer Cooper

  “I adore you, Jessie. I don’t ever want to lose you.” Jax said behind her.

  Jessie turned in his arms, pleased, the woman forgotten. “Do you, Jax?”

  “I do. I know you aren’t ready for the living together, commitment ring type of relationship but I’d like to make sure you know, it’s heading in that direction.” Jax looked into her eyes, brushing her hair out of her face before stroking her cheek once more.

  “I think we can talk about that at some point down the road.” She said with a smile, kissing him deeply, her passion stirring once more.

  “You can go to her if you want.” Jax’s words as he broke their kiss stung Jessie and she pulled away.

  “What?” She asked, startled.

  “If you want to join Camelia and her men, you can. I want you only to feel pleasure here and if that means going over there, then go and know I’ll enjoy watching you.”

  Jessie could only stare at him. He’d only just spoken to her about commitment and now he was telling her to go and fuck someone else? Maybe she wasn’t as big a girl as she thought. Not twenty minutes ago she’d have jumped at the chance but Jax’s words had changed things somehow.

  “Ah.” The only sound she could get out for now.

  “Or you can stay with me, whatever you’d prefer.” He spoke with a smile, pulling her to him once more.

  “I think I need to go home, actually. My head is pounding for some reason. Do you want to stay? I can call a cab.” She offered, getting up to dress.

  Jax knew he’d said something wrong but didn’t want to push her. This was new ground for Jessie, and even if she wanted these new things, that didn’t mean they weren’t still confusing to her at times. And maybe her old thoughts on relationships was kicking in.

  Jessie remained silent on the ride home and kissed him goodnight, pleading for him to go home tonight.

  “I’ll call you in the morning darling. I just need to sleep this off.” Jessie watched as he left, heading over to Liam’s house.

  Liam that had abandoned her after their first night truly together. He wouldn’t come outside to answer her knocks on his door, he didn’t answer her texts, and if he saw her come outside when he was out he went in. The rejection stung.

  Jessie went to bed that night confused and unsure of how to fix it all. But there had to be a way.

  Jessie called Megan a week later, at her wits end about how to fix it all. She’d returned Jax’s text but was evading him on plans for meeting up. Megan was there in twenty minutes.

  “Here’s some ice cream, I’ve brought some chocolate, we’re going to watch some movies, you’re going to cry, and then we’re going to talk this out. I might order a pizza or two as well.” Megan said with a grin, pulling Jessie into her living room.

  They decided against a movie and Jessie spilled the entire story to Megan, even telling her about her attraction to Camelia.

  “Wow, she sounds hot. Can I come too? But seriously, what’s the problem besides Liam freezing you out? Are you afraid Jax is going to do the same?” Megan probed, her questions sounding harsh but her face confused.

  “I suppose I am. Why would he say that then throw me away?” Jessie sniffled into a tissue.

  “Because he’s not you dork! Don’t you get it? The man adores you and it sounds like Liam does too but he has some issues that made him pull back. Jax wants to see nothing but you being pleased, and if that happens to get him off at the same time, then what’s the problem? He’s not turning into a caveman and grunting at anybody that sniffs around you? I thought that’s what you wanted?”

  When Megan put it like that Jessie saw her own problem, the skewed thinking that had led to the current situation.

  “So you’re saying that Jax only wants me to be pleased, and if that means fucking other people then it pleases him too?” Jessie wanted to be sure.

  “Alright, imagine Jax is with this Camelia, and he’s getting off hard fucking her. How do you feel?” Megan asked in her blunt way.

  “Oh. Wow. I see now.” Jessie did too, the images Megan’s words created in her mind were hot. She didn’t feel jealous, she felt warm, aroused, and eager to see it in real life.

  “There you go. That’s what I’m here for.” Megan said, satisfied. The doorbell rang and she went to answer it, knowing the delivery man was on his way. She came back with a flounce in her step and two pizza boxes in hand.

  “Now, you can either sit in here making yourself fat with me or you can go out there and set those two straight.” She said, putting the boxes on the coffee table.

  “What?”

  “Jax and Liam are outside making like calendar cover models and washing their bikes with no shirts on.” Megan said casually, taking a bite of pepperoni pizza. “I’d go outside if I were you.”

  Jessie shot from the couch with a wave to Megan, her heart pounding with nerves. What if they both just walked away? Then stand up and make them listen.

  Jessie marched out and stopped before the men, her hands at her hips and her “don’t mess with me” face on.

  “Now listen to me. I’ve made a complete idiot of myself but I have something to say. Liam, you are important to me, no matter if you want a full-on relationship with me or if you just want to boink my brains out occasionally. You are my friend and if you never speak to me again, I’ll come over and fill your garden with shrimp that will eventually make you have to leave your backyard. And you!”

  She turned to Jax, his face a picture between confusion and joy.

  “You deserve an apology. You have one. Now, if you two would like to boink me silly, I’d appreciate it. If not, please tell me now so I can go inhale a pizza with Megan.”

  She couldn’t look at either as her speech ended, too nervous about their response.

  “So you want me to be your friend or you’re going to terrorize me?” Liam asked, a tickle of laughter in his words.

  “That’s right buddy. I might even get myself a dog and throw it’s leavings in your backyard.” She promised, though she’d never do it and he knew it.

  “Right. And I can, what was the term, boink you, whenever I like?”

  “Also correct.”

  “And I have an apology from you?” Jax finally found his voice.

  “You do. I went full dumbass on you and I shouldn’t have. I know better. But for a moment I forgot I knew that.”

  “Does that mean we’re together?” Jax asked.

  “It does. And it also means we will be having sex. With Liam, with Camelia, whoever we like. As long as we’re together. That’s my only stipulation, we have to be together. Mainly because the idea of watching you makes me incredibly horny so the real thing must be off the chain.” Jessie said with a silly grin on her face.

  “What about living together?” Jax asked.

  “We’ll get to that. I like things the way they are for now but it won’t be long before I need you beside me every night.”

  “Hey, are you three going to go boink in Liam’s house? If so I’m going to watch this movie and get fat on my own. If not, send my bestie back so she can save my waistline."

  All three laughed at Megan’s humor and the tenseness of the past weeks. Jessie walked into Liam and Jax’s arms and found her heaven.

  “I don’t know what I can promise, but I will always be your friend Jess. And I’d love to boink you silly.”

  “Good, because I’d love to be boinked silly.”

  “You’ll want to boink him even more when you find out he’s just been hired as fireman. Why do women love fireman so much?” Jax pondered, following them into Liam’s house.

  “They’re hot, duh.” Jessie said with a laugh as the door closed and her passion surged.

  She may not have started out looking for a relationship but she’d found it. With two of the best men she had ever come across.

  The End

  More Romance Stories

  Part I

  Just You

  Billionaire Second Chance Romance
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br />   Chapter One

  “I don’t care what you have on tomorrow night,” Cara hissed into the phone. The voice chattering back from the other end was a drawl, disaffected and bored. “No—no, no, no—Craig. Craig, please—“

  The sound of the click echoed down the line, and her shoulders slumped. She replaced the receiver, shaking, and then let herself lean against the wall. There were tears starting to form in her eyes, and she had nearly worn out her ability to keep them back. She pressed her hand over her mouth, and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep from making a sound.

  “Cara?”

  Oh, God. No one could see her like this. Cara whirled away from the door and fumbled with her apron, acting as if she had come in here to change.

  “Cara?”

  “Uh-huh?” Her voice sounded a little strained, but she might have pulled it off.

  There was a pause, and she knew Lexie was looking her over. The night cook at Bell’s Diner was young and supermodel pretty; blonde-haired and blue-eyed. She looked about fifteen…but she was one of the most clear-eyed, observant people Cara had ever met in her life. There was no point in trying to fool her. “You have a customer, sweetheart.”

  Cara managed a laugh. She knew Lexie humored her by acting like every other world-weary diner chef out there, and humor was just what she needed right about now.

  “Are you okay?” Lexie asked, more softly this time.

  “I’m all right.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’ll be okay.” Cara turned around and wiped her eyes; no use in pretending. “Is my mascara running?”

  “Nope.” Lexie smiled and disappeared. “I’m going to go start cooking. This guy always gets the same thing. Give him decaf.”

  “Thanks.” Cara smiled after the girl’s retreating form. Four weeks on this job and she was just getting used to the dizzying array of people that came in. When she came out to see a tailored suit and a copy of yesterday’s Times, graying dark hair peeking out from above the pages and a Rolex glittering on the man’s wrist, she hardly gave it a second thought. There were only two kinds of people who came in this late: drunks, and stockbrokers.

  She supposed he might be both. That would liven up the night somewhat. Without tips, she was practically working this shift for her subway fare.

  “Decaf?” She asked lightly, pasting her diner-waitress smile on her face.

  Her smile faltered when he folded his paper and looked at her, assessing. She had expected someone portly, or run-down, but this man looked to be in the prime of his life. The salt and pepper in his hair had clearly been earned with time, but the man wore his suit like he’d been born in it, the polite cut failing to disguise well-muscled arms and broad shoulders. His skin was caramel, his sharp jawline free of stubble, and his eyes were somewhere between black and brown.

  “Yes, please,” he said politely.

  Cara had to force herself to take a step, and then another. She seemed to have forgotten how to move; her fingers were clenched around the handle of the coffee pot so tightly that she was worried she might break it, and she knew she was staring like a fool. So this man was one of the most attractive people she’d ever met in her life. He was a customer. He was a rich customer. No one needed her staring like a teenager.

  “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before,” he observed as she poured. His tone made it clear that he remembered nearly every person he saw.

  “I’m new here.” Cara managed to jerk the pot up just in time to keep the cup from overflowing. “I don’t usually work this shift.”

  Don’t usually, but didn’t have much choice, she thought. How many months in a row had it been since the child support had shown up? And Craig, she thought bitterly, didn’t even have anything to spend the money on. He lived with his parents and talked about clubs and champagne.

  But it was no use thinking about that. And no use thinking about Darren, sleeping in their neighbor’s apartment because Cara couldn’t get the thought out of her head that someone might break in while she was gone. She tried not to let her smile flicker.

  “My name is Perry,” the customer told her, and Cara nodded.

  “Cara.”

  “A beautiful name.”

  “Thank you.”

  A ding sounded from the counter, and Perry smiled over at the plate. “Bless Lexie, one of these days she’ll have my food ready before I even get here.”

  “You know Lexie’s name?” Cara asked, rendered curious by this turn of events.

  “I make a habit of knowing everyone’s name,” he said gravely. “And Lexie’s eggs are better than Jamie’s. But he makes better pancakes.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Cara said, at a loss for any other words. She wove her way behind the counter and brought the plate out. “Ketchup? Hot sauce?”

  “Hot sauce, please.”

  Please and thank you. So he was one of those stockbrokers. The kind that said they weren’t too rich and privileged to remember people’s names. People like waitresses and cooks. People less than them. And wasn’t everyone going to be impressed now?

  Cara set the plate down in front of him with rather more force than was necessary.

  “Thank you,” he said, so mildly that she had to grit her teeth.

  “Anything else I can get for you?”

  “No, thank you.” His eyes focused on hers. “Are you all right, ma’am?”

  “…Ma’am?” Cara asked him. Too polite. He was mocking her.

  “It seemed overly familiar to call you by your name.”

  “I see. Well, if there’s nothing else I can get for you—”

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” He asked, his forehead creasing. “Have I said something to offend you?”

  “No,” Cara snapped. “You haven’t. Please enjoy your food.”

  Back in the kitchen, she leaned against the wall and groaned softly. She was never going to make it if she couldn’t be polite to customers.

  “What was that about?” Lexie asked, looking over from where she was scraping the grill down. She was relentlessly neat, so much so that she threw a sponge towards Clara and gestured to the countertops. “Help me out.”

  “Sure.” Clara began scrubbing.

  “So…” Lexie prompted.

  “He’s just one of those ones who mocks you the whole time.”

  “Really?” Disbelief rang in Lexie’s voice. “He’s always been so nice to me.”

  “Doesn’t he seem a little… too nice? Like he’s just doing you a favor by talking to you?”

  “Not really.” Lexie shook her head. “And even if he was, wouldn’t that be…kind of better than everyone else we have in here? I mean, so he says nice things and tips well. Doesn’t matter if he thinks he’s better than us. The rest of the people who think that, say rude things and don’t tip at all, see what I mean?”

  “There is that. But I don’t think I’ll be getting a good tip.”

  “What did you say… ?”

  “Nothing.” Cara shrugged. “It was how I said it.”

  “He’ll tip well, anyway. He always does. Lord knows he has the money for it.” Lexie shot a glance over her shoulder, and shook her head at Cara’s uninterested expression. “Doesn’t anything interest you these days?”

  “Not really, no. I’m too tired.”

  “Well, look alive — that’s Perry Hammond, and he’s worth seventeen billion dollars.” When Cara only raised an eyebrow, Lexie snorted. “And it looks like he’s pretty taken with you. Even tired, you look like a million bucks.”

  She was probably right. Cara’s curls, when they behaved themselves, tumbled fetchingly in a waterfall of auburn, and her blue eyes were very bright in her heart - shaped face. She was not tall and stately, as many New Yorkers seemed to be, but she had a sweet smile and a sprinkle of freckles over her tiny nose. She was, she admitted, very pretty.

  Not that it ever did her much good.

  “Well, I’d need to be seventeen thousand times as prett
y to be on his level,” she told Lexie wearily.

  “Well, don’t say I don’t ever set you up.”

  “I won’t.” She dropped the sponge in the sink and washed her hands. “I suppose I should go see if he needs anything.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Lexie said encouragingly.

  “Don’t. I’m just going to get him some coffee.”

  “You could at least try—” Lexie was saying as the door swung shut.

  “Can I get you anything else?” Cara asked. She was trying to keep her voice pleasant, but it was remarkably difficult. What was it about this man that set her on edge? First he looked like a stockbroker, then he looked like an athlete, then he was too polite by half, and now she found out he was a billionaire. He set her on edge, and she couldn’t figure out why.

  “No, thank you.” He slid a fifty onto the table and stood. His food had been eaten, the silverware placed neatly on the plate; the coffee mug piled on top with a used—but folded—napkin. “I hope you have a good night, ma’am. I hope you know I did not mean to offend you.”

  “Uh-huh.” She couldn’t seem to say anything else, so she only watched while he hesitated, before nodding his head and leaving, expensive shoes tapping on the laminate flooring.

  It was such a pity when the jerks were handsome.

  “Hello, ladies.”

  “Mr. Smith.” Cara turned at the voice and smiled, this time a bit more sincerely. The man who owned the diner was kind, very forgiving of her mistakes, and observant enough to call out the riff-raff who took liberties with the waitresses.

  “I see Perry was here,” he said now, eyes fixed on the fifty. “Good man.”

  Cara refrained from rolling her eyes, and Mr. Smith looked around himself before heaving a sigh.

  “I, uh…I have something to tell you. Lexie, could you come out here a moment?”

  “Sure thing, Mr. S.” Lexie walked out, wiping her hands on a pristine white towel.