All of You: Jax & Sky (All In Book 3)

by Callie Harper

  “Looks good.” He kept his hands at his sides, staying a respectful distance away, nothing suggestive in his tone or posture, but damn if I didn’t feel tingly all over. I smiled and blushed, thrilled all out-of-proportion that he’d noticed. But that was the thing about the heart, it just sort-of did what it wanted. If it chose to soar up like a balloon because Jax gave me a compliment, well, that was what it did and no amount of straight-talk would pin it down to the ground.

  “She always looks good.” Ace jumped in as if to my defense. “Now, let’s all have some of this pie! I’ve got one of those…” Ace gestured in the air. “Those flat things? You use with pie?”

  “A pie server?”

  “Yep. Up there, I think.” He pointed to a high cabinet. I wasn’t sure why he would put something like that way up where it was hard to reach, but it wasn’t the first time I’d helped an elderly resident remember the word for something, or retrieve it from an unlikely place. Stretching up, on my tippy-toes, I reached into the upper cabinet, feeling around without being able to see inside.

  “Here, let me.” Jax came to the rescue, reaching easily up and over me to get the serving knife. His body heat sent a shiver down my spine. My eyelids fluttered closed for half a second as I caught his scent, masculine and mint.

  “Thanks.” My voice sounded breathy, like I’d just run a lap instead of standing still. So close to him, my blood pounded like I’d broken into a full sprint.

  It was a small kitchen and to navigate the space, he wrapped a hand along my waist, sliding me to the side as he stood at the counter. He held me a fraction of a second longer than was necessary. But not as long as I would have liked.

  Gesturing toward the pie, Jax raised an eyebrow. “You having some?” Why did everything he said sound suggestive? Must be my hormones on high alert. The man wasn’t offering to lick pie filling off of me nice and slow, taking his time to make sure he didn’t miss a drop. Even if that was where my dirty mind went. His biceps bulged as he cut a slice of pie. That wasn’t fair.

  “Thanks, I’m OK.”

  “I think you need to indulge a little more, Sky.” That low, smoky voice, the sinful smile playing on his lips, maybe I wasn’t the only one with a dirty mind.

  Mouth open, about to respond, my phone went off with a loud ding. I stepped away to check my text message.

  Mike: See you home @ 5 tonight.

  Right. That would be hard since my shift didn’t end until six p.m. I tucked the phone back into my pocket without replying, giving my wedding ring a nervous twist. The text was a good reminder. I should get a move on. Mike would not like it if he could see me with Jax. He figured everyone I saw all day long was either old or female, since all the nurses and aides were women. Jax Branson definitely didn’t fit into either of those categories.

  “You two enjoy the pie!” Briskly, I headed for the door, dismissing Ace’s protests. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to keep making my rounds. But happy anniversary, Ace!”

  Walking out into the hallway, I realized I was shaking. Jax did something to me. Ever since the first time I’d met him, he’d intrigued me. His bar was a favorite motorcycle club hangout, and I’d seen him on his own fierce ride, but he wasn’t a brother. He hung with the Skulls and they all respected him, I could tell by the way Mike had introduced me, but he was independent, his own man.

  I couldn’t explain the effect he had on me. But I bet he could make me cum in about 10 seconds flat.

  Except I was married. It didn’t make any difference that I’d tied the knot during a night in Vegas I could barely remember and my signature on the wedding license probably looked a lot like an X. It didn’t matter that my husband had started spending a hell of a lot of evenings away from home. It didn’t even count that I was beginning to wonder if the man I’d married was not actually a good man after all.

  I still wore the ring. So I had to resist the intense pull of attraction. But just because I resisted it didn’t mean I didn’t feel it.

  There was nothing between me and Jax, and nothing had happened, nothing at all. I repeated it to myself as I continued my rounds. There was no reason to feel guilty. But I did feel guilty. Because I so desperately wished that something would.

  2

  Jax

  I walked toward the two guys, sizing up the situation. Saturday nights were always busy and this was no exception. One of them I knew well, a Skull. The other didn’t look familiar. I didn’t think he was a Reaper, but you never knew. Who would have guessed that owning a bar could feel so much like being a high school principal? If the high school happened to be in the middle of rival gang territory in L.A.

  “How we doin’, guys?” I asked in my well-worn “let’s all settle down” voice. The Skull darted a look at me from the corner of his eye. He knew enough to understand I would not let shit go down in my bar. The other guy, though? He might need an education.

  “You want another beer?” I tried good cop on the guy I didn’t recognize. But he didn’t take the easy way out. Instead, his jaw flexed, eyes narrowing in on the man he intended to harm. Not in my bar, if I had my way, and I usually did.

  “Let’s take it outside, gentlemen.” I caught the eye of one of my bouncers, adding some “what the fuck is taking you so long?” into my glance. They needed to be on this type of thing. Along with my business partner, Tommy, I owned the place. I couldn’t afford to be the guy kicking ass and taking names, which also meant making enemies. I paid people to do that shit. But somehow I always seemed to be the one with my finger on the pulse, sensing the violence before it erupted. Guess I’d been around it long enough to know it intimately.

  I caught the punch before it landed, swiftly grabbing the guy’s arm and twisting it up behind his back while I kicked the back of his knee, making him lose his balance. It helped that he was drunk. Sober and weighing in around 225, I easily had the upper hand. And a lot of backup. Finally kicking into gear, a couple of bouncers took it from there, leading the much more compliant Skull and his nemesis outside where they could do whatever the hell they wanted. At least fifty feet away from my property.

  “Now, what can I get you ladies?” Swooping three pretty young things under my arms, I ushered them toward the bar. I’d learned a lot over the years about diffusing and distracting. Better to have girls happily flirting and drinking than standing and gawking. The last thing drunk guys needed was an audience to show off their prowess. Some people thought gladiatorial displays had gone out of style with the Romans. I knew better.

  I kept them occupied for a few minutes, turning on my practiced skills. To be honest, it didn’t take much. It probably sounded egotistical, but my experience was that if I wore a short-sleeved T-shirt and stood around, big arms crossed over my big chest, it didn’t take long for a woman to start running her hands along my muscles. Add to that the fact that I was the owner, and I basically had it made.

  Funny, though, standing there surrounded by hot girls in short skirts, my mind wandered to that delicious little nurse’s aide I usually saw when I visited Ace. Sky was like a ripe, juicy peach, so fresh, sweet and rounded just right. She didn’t seem to know how sexy she was, her curvy ass and full breasts always hidden in baggy scrubs. She barely even wore any makeup, though she did blush easily. That faint pink flush stealing across her cheeks gave me all kinds of nasty ideas. I’d like to pink her up all over.

  I was careful, though. I kept the brakes on around her. I’d never done anything more than exchange a few casual words when she checked in on Ace.

  She was married. I could see the ring on her finger, plus Griller had introduced me to her when she’d first moved to town. She probably didn’t remember, but I did. Her brute of a husband had brought her by my bar, showing her off like a prize he’d won at the county fair. I’d wondered why such a beauty had teamed up with that beast, especially since I knew Griller wasn’t going to turn into a prince one day. He was never going to learn manners and waltz around with her while a candlestick sang.

&nb
sp; I hadn’t understood the match even before I’d learned how kind and thoughtful Sky was, always helping everyone around her, brightening everyone’s days. She remembered little details about every resident in that home, making each of them feel special. When I saw her in the courtyard or the dining hall, I couldn’t help but watch her like some sort of hulking stalker in the corner, riveted by her easy grace as she laughed, brushing her hair behind her ears, her lyrical voice greeting and chatting. She treated everyone around her right. I had to wonder, was she getting the same treatment from her man?

  But I knew Sky’s business wasn’t mine. She wasn’t my woman to have and to hold. Yet attraction was attraction. You couldn’t fight chemistry, it was either there or it wasn’t. And for some reason it was there in a big way with Sky. Maybe it was the pies. I’d grown addicted, thinking about the soft and curvy woman who’d baked them every time I sat down for a slice, then usually ate half the damn pie in one sitting.

  Crowd dispersed, conflict avoided for at least the time being, I took my favorite post, standing behind the corner of the bar where I could survey all the action. The bar was packed. I guess you could say it was a rough crowd. To tell the truth, I knew a lot of bad guys. Some people might say that made me one of them. I didn’t see it that way.

  Over in the corner, I spotted a guy pawing at a woman like she was puppy chow and he was a mangy mutt who hadn’t had a meal in a week. I’d give him a minute to settle down. Then, if he hadn’t stopped, I’d see to it that he did.

  I loved owning a bar. I swear I did. But sometimes I wondered if I’d picked the wrong location.

  I’d moved back to Cavallo four years ago, mostly to be near Ace. He was the only family I had left in what I guess could be considered my hometown. I’d moved around a lot in my 27 years, starting off in Cavallo, then doing time everywhere from Massachusetts to Florida, where my father was last we spoke, to Texas where my mother was shacked up with her latest boyfriend. But Ace had come through for me when no one else wanted to, back when I was 16 and fresh out of juvie.

  Ace had taken me in, under the condition that I cut out all the bullshit. Somehow, he’d made me listen to him. I’d straightened out, gotten my high school diploma, and then roamed around some until Ace had himself a heart attack. When that happened, I’d moved back to Cavallo. I figured after all he’d done for me, the least I could do was check in on the guy from time to time and be there if he needed some help.

  I was glad I’d come back to Cavallo, gratified that I co-owned Ace Bar and Lounge, but those damn motorcycle clubs kicked up a hell of a lot of drama. Some days I felt like I was in a housewives reality show only much more bloody. Sometimes I thought about what it would be like to run a bar someplace mellow and chill. Maybe a vacation destination where people just wanted to relax.

  Looking over at the mangy mutt, I saw he’d gone from bad to worse. The woman now had a seriously pissed off look on her face, but his hand kept trying to dive on up her skirt. With two fingers, I signaled to a bouncer over in the corner. He stepped in, broke it up and then, reluctantly, headed over in response to my demanding look.

  “Hey, boss.” He sounded a hell of a lot like a kid that had been sent to the principal’s office.

  “You know what I’m going to say.” I kept my eyes on the crowd.

  “Yeah.” He looked all hangdog.

  “I need you on shit before it starts. Not just responding when I tell you.”

  “I know.” He agreed, though I could tell there was a “but” coming.

  “But?” I prompted. Better to clear the air than let things fester.

  “But we’re a biker bar, boss.”

  “We are a bar that is open to one and all, including bikers. We are not a biker bar.”

  I was getting tired of explaining that. It wasn’t that I looked down on bikers. Hell, my ride was parked right outside. I cruised around on my chopper with the best of them. With my shaved head, leather jacket and tattoos plus my sheer size, I was sure most people assumed I was in a motorcycle club, myself.

  But that was the thing. I’d never much liked the labels other people put on me. Thug. Wrong side of the tracks. Criminal. Just because I felt right at home among all that, didn’t mean it defined me. Joining a motorcycle club and pledging allegiance to someone else’s bloody code of tribal honor would never be my choice. I lived life on my own terms, even if that made me a lone wolf.

  §

  Late Monday morning I got a text.

  Zeke: headin your way tonight

  Aw, shit. Zeke was coming to my bar? The man had some balls. Skulls owned west of L.A.; Iron Reapers owned the east. Skulls hung out at Ace Bar and Lounge. Reapers did not. But Zeke never did what he was told. And I had to admit, it was part of what I liked about him.

  Zeke and I went way back. We hadn’t seen each other in a few months, not since around Thanksgiving and here it was early February, but that didn’t matter. We could go a year or more and get right back into a groove. It was like that with people you’d known since you were kids, especially if you’d gone through some shit together. Zeke and I had both done time in juvie when we were 15. He’d had a longer sentence than mine, but the nine months we’d overlapped we’d shared a cell. He’d had my back, I’d had his and we hadn’t stopped since.

  Funny how going through hell with someone could form a lifelong friendship. I could count on one hand the friends I’d trust with my life. Actually, I didn’t even need all five fingers for Zeke, Liam, Chase, and Ian. What did we all have in common? Nearly dying together. Back in juvie, Zeke and I had fought for each other like animals locked in a pen.

  As for Liam, Chase and Ian? One night had bound us together, changing the rest of our lives. We’d had no clue it was going to, of course. We’d been 14, dumb as fuck with all the arrogance of early adolescence. Ian and I had stolen a boat and not thought twice about it. What could go wrong? It was a harmless joyride. Liam and Chase had agreed, hopping on board without a moment’s hesitation.

  Growing up, my dad worked construction and my mom cleaned houses. My family hadn’t exactly gone boating. I’d had no clue how lost we could get once the sun went down and a storm hit. It never even entered my mind as a remote possibility that a wall of water the size of a two-story building could appear out of nowhere and smash our boat in two.

  That accident had sent me spiraling down, literally and figuratively. Thank God all of us had lived, but not all of us had walked away like I had. Ian was in a wheelchair for life. The sight of him trapped under a fallen, fiery mast would haunt me until the day I died. I’d landed in juvie not long afterward, and when I’d gotten out neither my mom nor my dad had wanted anything to do with me. It turned out when you stole a boat and sank it, then got caught dealing pot, plus breaking and entering, your parents got pretty pissed off.

  But not Ace. He’d taken me in when no one else would. I swore I’d never forget what he’d done for me as long as I lived.

  I took a shower and decided it was a good time for a visit. Mondays I usually took the whole day off, working out then heading over to see Ace. But with Zeke stopping by, it looked like today I should visit first, then head over to the bar. I needed to be there to keep things running smooth.

  Outside the front entrance of the Cavallo Canyon home, a woman was selling flowers. I had a crazy impulse to buy some roses. But not for Ace.

  That was why I didn’t buy them. What would Sky think if a big, gruff guy like me showed up bringing her flowers? She’d probably freak out, maybe get mad. She’d likely flash her ring at me and hop on the phone to that husband of hers. Then he’d cause a scene. I could handle him. I’d already done it once or twice at my bar when he’d gotten too drunk for his own good.

  But I had enough sense to stop myself from doing it. Even though, walking up the stairs, I still pictured Sky’s face, all rosy and happy, looking down at the flowers, then up at me. Logic didn’t seem to figure in too well when it came to Sky. It didn’t make sense that I looked for her
as I walked down the hallway to Ace’s apartment. Or that when I knocked at his door, I hoped she’d be the one to open up, getting all flushed and shy when she saw me.

  No Sky in sight, Ace and I had a good visit, like we always did. We played some Gin Rummy out on his patio, enjoying the sunshine and people-watching. Ace was quite the popular guy, enjoying the attention of more than a few of the local ladies.

  “What’re you laughing about, old man?” he asked me after he got two women in their 70s giggling like school girls over his compliments.

  “Just admiring your game, Ace.” I chuckled, marveling at how smooth he was. I did all right with women, but I mostly attributed that to being big and strong. I’d learned as a teenager the power of bulking up, in more ways than one, and I’d been hitting the weights ever since. But suave pick-up lines? That was Ace’s department, all the way.

  “You’re looking for Sky,” he observed, catching me glancing around again.

  “No.” My protest convinced no one.

  “Yes, you are, and if I were your age I’d be doing the exact same thing. Now read ‘em and weep.” He laid his cards down in sets, throwing the final card onto the table to signal victory.

  I shook my head, disgusted with myself for multiple reasons. Only a low down dawg lusted after a married woman. I should be ashamed of myself. I was ashamed of myself. It stopped me from doing anything more than looking around for her and then, once I found her, looking at her. She had to think I was a little soft in the head the way I stared at her. I’d seen her at least two dozen times over the past year Ace had lived there, but I never said much. Because the things I thought about saying to her weren’t the kinds of things I should say to another man’s wife.

  Ace and I hung out until around four. Then I excused myself, explaining how Zeke was planning on heading up to the bar tonight.