by BJ Harvey
“Well, then, I guess you don’t need help painting today,” my father announces.
I turn my head to meet the far-too-amused eyes of my dad.
“Rick, why have you sto—ohhhh,” my mom says, coming up behind him. I look over his shoulder and find my mom covering her mouth and giggling but—I note—not looking like she’s moving anytime soon.
“Ah… hi guys,” Ronnie says, snort-laughing the words.
“Hi, Ronnie. We’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” Mom says.
“Um, love you lots, guys, and all, but do you think we could continue this conversation when I’m dressed?” I ask.
“Nice tushie, Jaxon,” Mom says. “I haven’t seen it since you were a kid, but once a good butt, always a good butt, right?”
“Mom…” I groan.
“You get that from your father. He has a nice, tight ass. Especially when I—”
“Mom!” I shout.
“Woman!” Dad growls, and through all of this, what does the woman beneath me do?
She laughs. And laughs. And she’s still giggling about it twenty minutes later when I rejoin them all downstairs in the main house after cleaning myself up.
Watching them, one thing rings true.
She fits, and as long as she wants to fit and whatever life may throw at us, I’m not letting her go. Mom always told us kids, “When you know, you know.”
Well, I knew the moment I first met Ronnie.
All that’s left is to let her know.
That’s the fun part.
18
Ronnie
The last few weeks have been so busy, I’ve barely had time to think about anything other than school, the wedding, and—of course—the man currently sitting next to me. He’s not a man easy to forget.
All that’s left to do for my intro to photography class is to finish putting my portfolio together and hand it in next Wednesday. Then, in two weeks’ time, we all fly to Vegas for April and Jamie’s joint bachelor and bachelorette party.
Today, Jax has decided to up his game—his words, not mine. I think he’s done more than enough—and he’s taking me out on a surprise Sunday outing. What I did like this morning was the look on his face when I gave him a frame with a picture of the two of us in it from our paint-covered photo shoot. When he unwrapped the gift, his eyes went wide then soft. Then he placed the frame on my nightstand, rolled over on top of me and pressed his palm to my cheek, looking at me like I was his entire world. That is a moment I’ll remember forever. It’s also the moment I made my decision that Jax never had to chase me because he’d always had me. I just need to find the right moment to tell him.
Between dress fittings, maid-of-honor duties, organizing the bachelorette weekend, and the guys working long hours renovating the Barbie Dream House to get it finished either before or just after the wedding, it’s been hard to spend quality time together without being interrupted or having to multi-task.
That’s why I’ve been looking forward to this surprise date for the past week, since Jax told me that my Sunday was his. Like I would ever complain about him wanting to spend the day with me. When it comes to us, I don’t care what we do, as long as we’re doing it together.
We’re driving downtown in Jax’s truck. He hasn’t given me any clues about what we’re doing or where we’re going. All I knew was to dress comfortably and be prepared to be out all day.
I decide it’s time to pull out the big guns. Leaning over from the passenger seat, I slide my hand over his jean-clad thigh and slowly glide it up towards the Promised Land. I’ve taken to calling it that because Jax wasn’t joking when he said sex was off the table. There’s been a hell of a lot of kissing and groping, but our sleepovers have remained strictly PG…maybe M… but definitely not X-rated.
I love that he’s still determined to win the chase before we take things all the way again.
What woman wouldn’t like that kind of restraint and only slightly wavering resolve? He wants to earn the right to claim his woman once and for all.
“Beautiful, I love your hands on me, but if you don’t want me to wreck the truck, you might wanna stop,” Jax says roughly.
I love the effect I have on him. It can be just words in a text or whispered in his ear and his voice will turn low and husky, which does it for me more than he probably knows.
Inching closer, my fingers brush over the inseam of his jeans. I wish I could press my lips to his neck and let my hands roam all over his body without risking an accident. It would all be a lot more fun without clothes, but I’ll make do while he has to concentrate and isn’t in a position to distract me with moves of his own.
His hand covers mine, his lips twitching as he moves it to a safer location, resting on top of his thigh.
I sigh. “This date, where are we going?” I lean back against the seat and study his profile, something I like to do when he’s not watching. It’s almost creepy the number of times I catch myself doing it. Even though I watched him for near-on a year whenever I’d go with April to BBQs, birthdays, or just her house, knowing he knows I’m watching him now, knowing he’s mine to touch and kiss and soon do all the things with, makes it different.
I also appreciate the way he has been hands-off with anything related to our photography class. He’s more than happy to answer any questions I might have, and he even let me play around with his super-duper expensive Canon and lens around the house. It’s refreshing having someone support my passion, and believe in what I’m trying to do—live my best, most fulfilling professional life.
“Ronnie? Where did you just go?”
I shake my head, not realizing I’d been daydreaming. “Sorry. I kind of went off on a mental tangent.”
“And where did that take you?”
“I was thinking about how you’re letting me be me.”
“I kind of like the me you are.” He lifts my hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss there before returning it back to his leg and giving my fingers a squeeze.
“I like the me I am now too. I also like you. And the flowers.”
“They reminded me of your perfume.”
My lips part. “Even Alistair, the man I was supposed to marry, would never have bought me flowers because they reminded him of me,” I say, swallowing hard as my voice breaks. “He’d buy me things, but they’d be an afterthought. There was no feeling behind them. Our dates were perfunctory, a means to an end. There would be charity dinners and benefit galas, dinners for the law firm, and family meals, but most of them were where my father was the center of attention, not me, the woman he was supposed to marry.” Thinking back, I wonder how I didn’t stand up for myself and my own happiness sooner.
“I would never do something because I thought you’d expect it. I didn’t even do it to sweeten you up.” His cheeks blush, and by God, it’s endearing. “I went to the florist and looked through all of the bouquets until I saw that one. It was all yellows and reds and it smelt like summer. It was you,” he says. We pull to a stop at a red light, and when he turns toward me and our eyes meet, his face softens. “God, you’re beautiful when I say something you like.”
“I look different?”
“Your features go soft and you take my goddamn breath away.”
Oh, fuck. Woman down.
“You know what I’d really like?” I flex my fingers on his thigh. We sit there, staring at each other. I match my breathing to his, and the air turns thick. He quirks a brow.
“S.E.X,” I whisper.
He chuckles and shakes his head, squeezing my hand and returning his attention to the road as the light turns green. “No can do, Barbie. We’ve got places to see and things to do.”
“What about people to do and places to do it?” I watch a sexy smirk curve his lips.
“So not going there while I’m driving. I’m already hard and you being so close, thinking about me when you’re all I can think about, is making it near impossible to concentrate on anything other than kissing and doing other things that aren’t on the
schedule today.”
“Schedules should be flexible,” I say, leaning closer to whisper, “just like I am.”
“Fuuuck,” he curses, banging the back of his head on his seat a few times.
I sit up straight, deciding he’s had enough torture for one car trip. “Okay. Let’s talk about something else other than sex, kissing, the way I smell, and how flexible I am.”
“Not helping.”
“Okay. How’s the studio design going? Are we getting closer to painting?”
His brows lift. “I told you I would take care of that room we messed up,” he says, reminding me of that mind-blowing gesture and even better afternoon. The photos I took came out even better than I could have imagined, and Jax has given me permission to use whichever ones I want. Thankfully none of them show our faces but that makes them all the more intimate. I’ve done a few different studio shoots with a bunch of random models since starting Jax’s course, but that one will forever be a firm favorite.
“I know. But I love painting,” I say. He quirks a brow, his lips tipping up. “I definitely enjoyed that kind of painting, but I mean it. I’d love to help you guys wherever I can. I change my color scheme in my condo at least once a year.”
“I like your condo. It’s you.”
“It’s very me. But different colors give me inspiration, so when the mood strikes, I change it up.”
“You want to help me pick colors for the pink lady?”
“Oh my God, are you serious? I’d love that. We could do blue–greys downstairs and move lighter upstairs. Then there are the bathrooms, where we could. . .”
Jax starts laughing. At first, it’s a chuckle, but the more I get lost in all the options and color combinations, the more he loses it.
“What?” I ask.
“So fucking cute,” he murmurs, flicking the turning signal and driving into a parking garage wedged between two city buildings.
He parks the truck and turns the engine off, then spins in his seat to face me. “Come here,” he says, reaching over and releasing my seat belt before grabbing my hip and sliding me closer. Then my face is in his hands, and he’s brushing his lips against mine in barely-there touches before opening his mouth and caressing my tongue as he deepens the connection. It’s a slow-burn kiss, one that I feel warming me up from the tips of my toes all the way through my body.
When we finally pull apart, the windows are starting to fog up and Jax’s eyes are blown. “We need to get out of here before we give the security cameras a good show.”
I pout and he grins, but I know he’s right.
“Okay then,” I say, moving back and putting some much-needed distance between us. “Where are we going?”
“Circus school,” he says, like that’s an everyday activity.
My eyes go wide. “Say what now?”
He chuckles. “There’s a company that does circus classes and training, and they have a taster session on Sundays for anyone who wants to come along and give it a go.”
“Okay…”
“And they have silks. I remember you mentioned you had always wanted to have a go on them.”
I smile at him, biting my lip as a lump grows in my throat. I reach up and rest my palm against his jaw. “Those silks take years of practice and a lot more flexibility than I have, but I can’t wait to have a look. Thank you.”
He leans into my hand. “You’re welcome. I told you, I like putting that look on your face. The look that says you really, really like me.”
I nod, my lips stuck in a permanent beaming smile. “That’s because I really, really do.”
“Good. And hopefully after today, you’ll never forget it.” He leans forward, giving me a hard and fast kiss before letting me go and reaching for the door handle. “Now, let’s get going. Who knows? Maybe I can go to clown school if this photography/teaching/house-flipping gig doesn’t work out.”
I giggle. “I think you’d make a great clown. You’re already halfway there.”
His head jerks back. “How?”
I nod down to his shoes. “Big feet.” My smile is lascivious, and his eyes dance at the implication.
“Well I am the bigger twin, remember?” He closes the door and rounds the back of the truck to help me out of the passenger side. I’m still laughing when he reaches me.
Two hours later, you can’t wipe the grin off my face, and if his look of stunned wonder is anything to go by, Jax has a new appreciation for circus arts.
If I was excited about our day date before, I’m buzzing now. “What’s next?” I ask, walking hand in hand down the street towards the parking garage.
He glances my way, his lips twitching. “I’m not sure I can top that now.”
“There are plenty of ways you can top that.”
He drops his head and groans, moving our joined hands to my hip and pushing me up against a building. He crushes his mouth to mine and kisses the life out of me. I’m in a haze when we finally pull apart, his eyes full of heat when they meet mine.
“Are you hungry? I thought we could take a walk and get a hot dog in Millennium Park.”
“That sounds perfect.” I thread my fingers into his hair and tug his face down, giving him a soft, slow kiss this time. “Lead the way.”
Thirty minutes later, we’re standing by the Bean, having just demolished a classic Chicago hot dog each while watching swarms of tourists walking around and under it, cell phones in hand, in selfie heaven.
I pull my phone out of my purse. “I want to take a photo with you,” I say, shaking my phone in front of him.
He screws his nose up. “Not exactly the kind of equipment a professor of photography should be encouraging a student to use.”
I shoulder bump him. “C’mon. You’re not my professor today. Unless you want to role-play later, of course,” I say, loud enough to earn a gasp from a middle-aged woman I knew would be eavesdropping. “But only if you bring that hard wooden ruler again. That leaves a mar—”
He covers my mouth, his eyes wide as he shakes his head. “I’m starting to think you don’t know how to behave in public.”
“You have no idea how bad I can be.”
A sexy smile curves his lips. “I look forward to many years of finding out.”
Straight out. No second-guessing. Not a sliver of doubt in his expression when he says it. Years.
God, I’m totally head over heels for Jaxon Cook.
One year, ten weeks after first laying eyes on him. Ten weeks, one day since I laid a trail of breadcrumbs and hoped he’d follow my lead. Six weeks of surprises—him—and chasing—him again—and I can’t even try to play hard to get because it’s taking everything I have not to give myself up to this.
He doesn’t have to work hard because he’s already in so far in there I don’t ever want him to get out.
“Ronnie?” he asks, knocking me from my thoughts. “You disappeared on me again.”
I run a hand over his shoulder and bring it to rest on the back of his neck. I meet his amber eyes and decide then and there I want to spend a lifetime looking into them. I want to make babies with his eyes so I can spend a lifetime looking at them too.
I want it all, and I want it all with this man.
“This may freak you out, but I vowed to live my life with no regrets.” I lift up on my toes to bring us closer. I quickly flick my cell camera on and hold it up between us.
He looks to the camera, scrunching his brows together in adorable confusion. “What is it, beautiful?”
I take a deep breath and on the exhale, I say my truth. “I’ve fallen in love with you,” I whisper, pressing my thumb down to snap photo after photo of his wide eyes, his parted lips, and then the hungry kiss he gives me after the words leave my mouth.
It’s the best kiss of my life, so good I’m forced to wrap my arm around his back to stay standing. When he lets me up for air, he drops his forehead to mine and we stand there, just breathing each other in.
“I love you too. It’s crazy, it
’s fast, but it’s so damn true.”
I kiss him again. This time, it’s soft and slow and full of meaning.
Then he jerks his head back and quirks a brow. “Did you just take photos of my reaction?”
“Yep,” I say, beaming up at him.
“You’re one of a kind.”
“I know. And so are you.”
He tilts his head. “Why’s that?”
“Because I could never fall in love with someone who wasn’t.”
He bites his lip, his eyes so warm and bright. “Ronnie. . .”
“Now can we take a photo with the Bean?”
He nods, shooting me what can only be described as a panty-melting grin. “Only if I can do it while kissing you. Fair’s fair.”
I hand him my phone without a second thought. “Deal.”
Suffice to say, Jax’s plans for the rest of the afternoon are all but forgotten. His promise was to only be inside me again once he knew he’d won the chase. Which leaves only one question left to be asked, which I do as soon as we’re sitting back in the truck.
“Your place or mine?” I ask.
“But we still have a few things left to do on our date.”
“I have one thing I want to do and that’s you. So, your place or mine?” I ask, leaving no doubt in my determination to end the date early. “You’ve definitely won the chase. Now it’s time to claim your prize.”
“Your place it is.”
19
Ronnie
We hold hands the entire drive back to my condo. I didn’t dare start something in the truck. I’m so on edge, I’m likely to spontaneously combust, and if I’m reading Jax’s body language correctly, he’s struggling too. So much has led us to this moment and now that it’s here—now that we’re actually going to do this—I’m kind of nervous. I’ve never had sex with a man I’m in love with. Is it different? Does it feel different? I’ve had good sex, bad sex, and absolutely regrettable sex, and then there was the one time I had absolutely unforgettable, mind-blowing, life-altering sex with Jax… will it be just as good this time? What if we’ve built it up for so long, denying ourselves for a big, giant over-anticipated disappointment?