“Ah, yes, the hierarchy among criminals,” I quipped.
“You must remember back then, and how Flores Senior operated, he ruled Miami, dictator style. There wasn’t anything that happened in this city without his approval or disapproval. Flores Junior went to his father, told him everything. In an effort to avoid a major political scandal and keep his kid from going to jail, the mayor orchestrated a cover-up. All did not go according to plan.”
“What wasn’t part of the plan—Mom getting murdered or Jason murdering Flores Junior and King? Spare me the details. I’ve heard that story a thousand times.”
“Your mother getting murdered was a fucking travesty. The mayor was hell bent on revenge, he wanted your hotel. He was going to set you up and then take the Magnolia.”
“Set me up? Take the Magnolia? I had to sell the hotel anyway—on his orders. John Wright delivered the letter himself.”
My father nodded. “That’s right. You were able to sell it and leave Miami. I went to the mayor’s office and attempted to get a meeting with him. I wanted to appeal to him one father to another, but he wouldn’t see me. Not at first anyway. John ended up facilitating a meeting between the two of us.”
“John Wright?”
“Yeah, he really liked you—knew you had great potential. John managed to convince Flores Senior to end his act of revenge. The mayor agreed on the terms—you leave Miami and never do business here again. You could have gone to prison just like your brother.”
“Jesus.” I eyed my father. “If you’re looking for some kind of thank you . . .”
“I’m not, I swear. I get that I don’t deserve it. But, Jackson, even though I left, I never stopped looking out for you, Jason and Janessa.”
“Are you still running the side business?”
“No, I had to get out of Miami too—mayor’s orders—which didn’t make my partners in Atlanta happy.”
Saying nothing, I sat back trying to absorb everything that my father had explained to me. I sipped my beverage while he sat quietly his gaze swung to the TV screen above the bar. Government officials like Flores Sr. made my stomach lurch with disgust. Why did everything regarding politics have to be so fucking ugly?
“Was Martin Brockman one of your partners?”
“Not a partner, but he allowed us to switch out the vehicles at his car washes for a small fee. Other times he let us to stash the cars and drugs in an empty wash bay. He’d shut it down for repairs.”
I let out a deep breath. “I don’t want Stevie knowing about any of this. I will tell her when the time is right.”
“You have my word.”
“I don’t need your word. I need your silence.”
My father looked at his watch and stood. “Well, it’s getting pretty late. I should be going.” He signaled for the server to bring the check.
“I got the check,” I said, pulling my money clip from my jacket pocket.
“You don’t need to do that, since I invited you.”
“Thank you, both.” She dropped the check off and then hurried back to the bar announcing last call.
My father picked up the check presenter. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” I said, holding up my hand. “I appreciate you setting the record straight, but . . .”
“But, there won’t be any shared holidays or invites to barbeques anytime soon. I understand.” He tucked a crisp hundred dollar bill inside and then closed the case.
I nodded. “I’m not trying to be rude or cruel and I’m sorry to hear about your failing health.”
That’s all I could give the man at least at this point. If I decided to have a relationship with him in the future, it would be my decision. There was no need for an explanation other than and I wouldn’t be forced into a situation based on guilt.
He extended his hand to mine and I shook it. “Goodbye, Jackson.”
I watched as my father strode out of the hotel, and this time I witnessed him walking out of my life. Swiping my phone’s screen to life, I dialed Archie. “Yeah, I know the connection between my father and Martin Brockman. Keep me updated on their daily whereabouts—for now.”
“IT’S ONLY ME.”
I awoke from a light sleep to those three words. Still in my dress, I dozed off waiting for him to return. Faint light surrounded us but I could see the conflict in Jax’s blue eyes. Wrestling with something heavy—his emotions clear as day painted over his beautiful face. It was much like the day when I met him on his yacht.
“No, the thought of it, please don’t.” The words came out, anguish rolling off his tongue. “This . . . it’s barely begun.”
“I was worried about you,” I said, through a yawn. “What time is it?”
“Almost two.”
I rolled up to lean against the headboard. “Are you okay?”
He shrugged out of his jacket and then tossed it onto the wingback chair. “Yes.”
Liar.
Saying nothing, he begged me to allow him this lie, and I did. When he was ready to talk to me about seeing his father after all this time he would.
The mattress dipped as Jax sat beside me. My fingers drifted over his chest, his muscles tensed under my touch. He inhaled, and pressed his forehead against mine. When he breathed, I wanted to be that air.
“I’m right here,” I whispered, my hands framing his face.
“Good,” he rasped, and his lips fused to mine, his hands pushing into my hair. “Ask me what I need.”
“What do you need?”
“You, just you, you’re the only one for me.”
My entire body vibrated with heat hearing those words. He once said that my body was my own, but in his bed my body belonged to him. It was pointless to deny that this man didn’t have my heart and my soul. I wasn’t falling for Jax, I’d already fallen and all of me belonged to him.
Pulling me up from the bed, he worked the zipper of my dress. The fabric slid down my legs pooling at my feet. The moment his lips connected to mine, I was lost to him. My fingers brushed down the row of buttons on his shirt. He loosened his belt buckle and I pried open his shirt, stilling my hands on his bare chest.
With our clothes discarded, Jax wrapped his arms around me guiding me back onto the bed. My head hit the pillow and his mouth was on me immediately. Licking, sucking and nipping at all the right spots. He palmed my breasts, rolling my nipples between his thumb and index finger. I groaned, letting my eyes fall closed.
“I want you in my bed every night,” he whispered, the hot tip of his cock nudging at my entrance. His fingers dug into my hips as he slammed inside me. I cried out feeling the delicious ache of him filling me and spreading through my body. The way I felt when I was with him, it consumed every part of me.
“Take all of me,” I whispered.
His hips shifted and he drove into me, thrusting deeper. My arms found their way over his thick shoulders and I hooked my legs around him drawing him closer. We rocked together, moans of pleasure filled the space between us.
I flipped through memories of the past months—our conversations, the cooking class, our first kiss. He was sexy, and caring, and powerful and a bit mysterious. Jax had secrets, could I handle it if he never wanted to tell me those secrets?
He snapped his hips in a furious rhythm pulling me back into our moment. My gaze met his, his eyes seared into me.
“That’s better,” he groaned. “I like it better when I’m watching you watching me fuck you.”
“Oh, Jax,” I gasped, as he hit a new spot deep inside me. My fingers dug into his shoulders as I arched into him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, slamming his hips into mine.
Crests of my impending orgasm built low in my core. He caught my nipple in his mouth, quick and rough I moaned as he sucked harder making me burn with need.
“Ah.” My voice shook. “Right there.”
Dipping his tongue inside my mouth, I felt my insides clenching
and tightening as he kissed me. My nails dug into the muscles of his shoulders.
“Fuck, Stevie, what you do to me.” He breathed hard pounding into me.
I screamed his name as my insides exploded when his dick pumped into my sweet spot driving me home. Jax rocked into me hard, a litany of profanity spilled from his lips. My pussy tightened around his cock and he growled into my shoulder unleashing his own orgasm.
I tilted my head, finding his lips and getting lost in his soft kiss.
And in that moment it was clear, so obviously crystal clear—I never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again. Only him, only ever him.
This may take me down.
Jax’s fingers glided up and down my arm. The sight of him lying next to me, his skin bathed in the early morning light, still seemed unreal. We’d spent the night together many times over these last months, but there were times I feared I’d wake up to a reality where this had all been a dream.
“About my father,” he murmured. “When did you first meet him?”
My nails scratched up his chest. “I was wrapping up my shift at the country club one afternoon and he came in the restaurant with my dad. It was about three in the afternoon and I know this because the kitchen had just closed, so they could prepare for the dinner crowd. I think your dad was a little embarrassed that my dad brought him to a restaurant in the middle of a shift change, but when they paid, James left me a huge tip. Why do you ask?”
“I’m just trying to piece things together.”
The cold, heavy ache of trying to understand what Jax must have been going through hit me in the chest. Minutes slipped by, and the strange echoes that lurked in this suite occupied the quiet. I didn’t know if I should press on, remembering that Jax isn’t one for answering questions at length. Given the colossal subject matter and limited time he’s had to process seeing his father after all this time left me searching for the right words.
Jax expelled a deep breath. “He told me that he was dying.”
I shifted, glancing up at him. “How do you feel about that?”
“As much as I hate what happened to our family, I don’t wish the man ill. He is my father after all and if I’m being honest, there is a heavy weight there.”
“Yeah, I get it.” The words came out of my mouth, but did I really understand what Jax was feeling? All these years I wanted my father to go away and leave me and my mother alone.
“I never spent time or money looking for him and I could have. Apparently Jason found him and I guess from what my father said they worked together for a few years before Jason was arrested.” He scrubbed his hands down his face. “I’m glad that Janessa and I weren’t part of that Dennison family reunion.” He leveled his gaze in my direction. “There are things that I need to tell you, about my past.”
It was my turn to take a deep breath. “Okay, like what?”
“For starters we’re staying in the hotel that I once owned.”
My brows lifted. “This was The Magnolia?”
“Yeah, and I was forced to sell it by order of the mayor. I was told in no uncertain terms to leave Miami and never do business here again. An unfortunate side effect of my brother’s crime, at least that was what I believed at the time. My father paints a deeper story, one that could have ended in me going to prison.”
“What?” The question left my throat in a loud squeak.
“Apparently, Mayor Flores was hell bent on revenge. He wanted my hotel and he was going to set me up for a crime.”
I rolled my eyes. “What kind of crime exactly?”
“Murder, drugs, extortion, prostitution,” he replied with his arms outstretched. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Well, for the record, I am very glad that you were not sent off to prison.”
He laughed, it was a miserable laugh. “Yeah, you and me both, but as it turns out, it seems that my father was the one who convinced Mayor Flores to end his act of revenge.”
“No way,” I said, rolling up to my knees.
“They had a chat and the end resolution was that neither my father nor I do business in Miami ever again or until he was no longer running things here.”
“So your dad was here in Miami the same time that you were?”
Jax nodded. “Not only was he working for a chemical supply company, he was running drugs from here to Atlanta and Jason ran a crew for him.”
I blew out a breath. “Wow. This is so much to absorb.”
“Tell me about it.”
There was a long silence as I tried to wrap my head around everything Jax had just told me. I thought back to the few times I saw James in Kennesaw. How on Earth does the past collide with the present in such a weird way?
Jax’s phone played a musical score from The Phantom of the Opera. I covered my mouth with the blankets to hide my smile.
“I didn’t know that you loved musicals.”
He tossed back the covers and stood. “I do,” he answered. “Is that weird?”
“Not at all, I like a man who appreciates the arts.”
Jax leaned down pressing his fists to the mattress. “And I appreciate you listening to me this morning.”
“Thank you for being honest with me.”
He stared at me for a long moment and then brushed his lips to mine. Our kiss deepened, his tongue licked mine, teasing me until my body was drowning in need.
He pulled back from our kiss. “How did I get so lucky to have you walk into my life?”
“As I recall, you walked into my life, Jackson Hart.”
“I guess I did, it was good luck for me that you had car trouble that day.”
Me too.
Two days before Christmas
“WELL,” I SAID TO STEVIE as I lifted her suitcase from the trunk of my car. “Have a safe trip back home.”
“Thank you,” she replied, pushing her sunglasses on top of her head.
“Are you sure that you don’t want to take my jet?”
She chuckled grasping the handle of her luggage and propping it upright. “I can’t show up in Kennesaw on a private jet. Paying for my first class upgrade was generous enough.”
“I will miss you,” I whispered, tucking her close to me.
“I’ll miss you too, but I will be back the day after Christmas.” She pulled back from our embrace to straighten my tie. “You have a safe trip to Montana.”
She rolled up to her tiptoes and kissed me—hot and needy and not at all appropriate for public. I heard rumblings from people and a few whistles of appreciation. Stevie smiled against my lips, and then pushed back from our embrace. I watched until she disappeared through the crowd of people. My heart was heavy with an ache that I couldn’t describe.
I arrived back at my office just after four in the afternoon. Slumping into my chair, I began checking my emails. Somehow over the last months, Stevie had taken up permanent residence in my life and I didn’t mind one bit. She was great at her job, the kind of fun that kept me feeling young, and very good in bed. Beautiful, educated and strong, the list was miles long.
Everyone slowly drifted out the office as I shifted focus to the reports in front of me. Ingrid walked in just as I opened the progress report for the Chicago property.
“Mister Hart, Miss Edgerton is here to see you.”
I don’t remember scheduling a meeting with Carol. I glanced at my calendar, my entire afternoon was free. “Send Carol in.”
“Uh, sir.”
“It’s not Carol,” Carol’s sister, Trina interrupted as she strode in wearing a sleeveless green blouse and black pencil skirt. “Close the door, Ingrid.”
Ingrid swung her gaze in my direction and I nodded. When she shut the door, Trina settled into one of the chairs opposite my desk.
“You’re looking well, Trina,” I said, rising from my chair. “May I offer you a drink?”
She smiled. “Sure, my usual.”
“A vodka rocks, then?” I asked, confirming because I’d honestly forgotten.
&
nbsp; “How sweet of you to remember,” she cooed.
As I poured her drink, I wondered why she was really here. When I decided not to seek a political office, we parted ways. Trina was very nice, a straight shooter, but our relationship was never romantic. Our arrangement was of mutual benefit, her philanthropic work was given more attention and I had a pretty, Good Samaritan on my arm at events. We introduced one another to people and shared contacts. Trina respected our careers and there were zero complications to keeping our relationship casual.
I handed Trina the glass and sat on the corner of my desk. “What brings you by?”
She leveled her gaze at me. “My sister tells me that you’re seeing someone.”
This was a surprise. I’d never known Carol to spread office gossip. “And if I am, how is it any of your or Carol’s concern?”
“Carol says she’s very young.” Trina licked her lips before taking a drink.
“You know what they say about age, it’s only relevant to cheese and wine.”
She shot me a knowing glance. “I’m intrigued, Jackson. It’s only a matter of time before the public finds out that you’re sleeping with a pretty young thing.”
“We’ve been in public and no one cared,” I shot back.
“Not that you know of.” She waved a hand in the air. “I know you, Jackson Hart, and you have dreams of a political career. What do you think the voters will think of your—twinkie?”
I narrowed my eyes. “If it comes to that, I think that they would see that she’s a lot more than her age.”
Standing, Trina swallowed a drink and then placed the glass onto the coaster. “I hope so, Jackson, I really do.” She tucked her Prada clutch under her arm and smiled. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Trina.”
After she left, I let my eyes fall closed as I scrubbed a hand over my jaw. “Time for a drink.” Her words replayed on a loop as I poured some scotch into a tumbler.
Carol had been my most trusted employee. Hardworking, dependable, and she knew her boundaries—or so I thought. Working with Carol had never been an issue, until now. Who I date and who I sleep with is my business.
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