by BJ Harvey
I laugh. “Are you actually gonna make it on the cruise this time?” When Joey tried to go away last year, he broke his leg four days before he was due to leave. The time before that, he got shingles.”
“Young folk these days. Laughing at an old man’s misfortune.”
“Laughing with you, not at you. There’s a huge difference,” I reply.
“Right. Now tell me this is just a social call, and I won’t believe you. So what’s up?”
“Portfolios are due in four days for Intro to Photography. I’ve just had a visit from a student requesting an extension, which I have denied due to the lack of a compelling reason to give her one.”
“Let me guess; she tried it on?”
My eyes bug out and I literally stop dead in my tracks, halfway to my destination. “Should I admit to being shocked that you guessed correctly? I mean, is this a common occurrence in the world of academia?”
“Yes, and no,” he sighs. “The freshmen are very timid when they attempt it. The seniors can get quite sneaky and can vaguely intimate it, but nothing overt is ever said.”
“Oh, this is definitely a senior.”
“Right. So unless you took her up on the offer—which I know you’d never do—you’re calling to cover your ass?”
“It gets worse…”
“Jax. Do I have to drag this out of you? There’s a bottle of Belvedere with my name on it.”
“She saw a text from Ronnie pop up on-screen just as she was leaving.”
“Hmm,” he says, humming down the phone. “Was it incriminating?”
“Not in the way you’re thinking. But it was more than obvious that she means something to me.”
“So this is you using your get-out-of-jail-free card?”
“I don’t want this to blow up in my face.”
“Good. Because it won’t,” he says, unequivocally. “You’ve done everything right. I haven’t had any complaints and until I do, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“It’s not me who will get burned here, Joey, and we both know that.”
He goes quiet, and if it wasn’t for the low hum of jazz music in the background, I might’ve thought he’d hung up on me.
“I never thought I’d see the day that Jaxon Cook fell in love. I bet you glow with that shit too, don’t you?” he muses, and I burst out laughing, earning curious glances from students as I pass by.
“So don’t worry until you tell me there’s something to worry about?” I ask, needing confirmation that I’m stressing over nothing. There’s far too much to do in the next two weeks before Vegas, then the four weeks after that before the wedding. There’s also the house, not to mention the decision I need to make about the permanent contract I’ve been offered to continue working at the college that’s sitting in my messenger bag.
The four-day break in Vegas can’t come quickly enough.
“Yep. Don’t worry until I’m worried. Just get through your final classes and then sign that damn contract for me so I can relax in the knowledge I will have a full teaching staff for the fall semester. Then I can go cruising, you can go send the bachelorhood of that big brother of yours off in style, and hopefully, if Veronica’s portfolio is as good as I’m anticipating, she’ll have her own graduation to celebrate.”
“Fingers crossed.”
“Somehow, I don’t think she’ll need it. That woman of yours has one of the best eyes I’ve ever seen, other than yours.” Damn. It still feels good whenever he dishes out praise, mainly because Joey Blackman doesn’t placate or blow smoke up your ass. He calls a spade a spade.
“Should I tell her that?” I tease.
“Don’t you dare,” he growls.
I round the corner and stop outside Bryant’s office door. “I knew you’d say that. Don’t worry, Joey, your secret admiration for her is safe with me.”
“Go away, Jax. You’re keeping me from a well-earned drink. Finals are coming up and that always makes me grumpy.”
“You’re grumpy anyway. Finals week just gives you an excuse.”
“Goodbye, Jax.” He ends the call before I can continue riling him up. It’s one of the perks of having Joey as my mentor. He loves me regardless of the shit I say to him.
My hand goes to turn the handle of Bry’s office just as the man himself swings open the door, his eyes wide when he sees me.
“Well, fancy seeing you here. I was coming to see whether you wanted to grab a drink. I’ve had a shit day and going by the look on your face, you have too. One drink before we get our tiling on?” he says, arching a brow.
“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all afternoon.”
“Care to share?” Bry asks as he locks his door and we make our way off-campus.
“Let’s get a beer in our hands first. I definitely need alcohol for this conversation.”
Then I remember I never responded to Ronnie’s text, and now I don’t know what to say or whether I even should say anything to her about this. There isn’t even a this to explain right now. This might be nothing, and she’s got her portfolio to finish and two finals next week in other classes. She doesn’t need the distraction. I’m the study break, not the study brake.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and send a reply. But even being told not to worry doesn’t stop the little niggle of doubt in my gut that’s telling me it won’t be the last we’ll hear from Chelsea.
All I can do is try and put her out of my mind for tonight.
Easier said than done. But the cold beer certainly helps.
21
Ronnie
I wake up to an empty bed. Jax’s side is cold, meaning he’s been up for a while. This isn’t unusual though. Between end-of-semester grading, finals, and early starts at the house on his days off, he often gets up early. Since the Pink Lady is so close to completion, I offered he move in with me temporarily, especially since we’ve been spending near on every night together anyway.
We have nothing to do today except catch a plane, so there’s no good reason for him not to be lying next to me. Except after disappearing outside for a long phone call last night, Jax told me something urgent had popped up and, along with Bryant, he’d fly out on Friday morning to meet up with the rest of us. It’s disappointing and has dampened my excitement a bit, but I know he wouldn’t do it unless it were important.
The whole group of us—sans Cook twins—are due to fly out of O’Hare at lunchtime for an epic four-day weekend without work, school, tradesmen, or children to wrangle. It’s an adults-only vacation with booze, strippers, and debaucherous sex with my boyfriend. What could be better?
The plan is to fly together, but separate once we get there: guys in one limo, girls in the other. Since the couples in the group are sharing hotel rooms, we’ll meet up at night. Jamie, Cade, and Jax all said they weren’t sleeping alone if their ‘women’ were within grabbing distance. They earned glares from all three ‘women’ for using the caveman term, but when Jax leaned my way and whispered, “I waited weeks to get to do everything I want to you. If you think I’m going to Sin City for three days and not sinning with, on, and in you, then you really don’t know the man you love,” I damn near combusted on the spot before conceding instantly. Who wouldn’t want to sin with Jaxon Cook?
It was hard leaving him and Bryant behind at the airport as Abi and Cade, Jamie and April, Ezra, Cohen, Gilly, and myself made our way through security. After getting pulled aside for not one but two pat-downs and an explosives check. My phone vibrates in my back jeans pocket.
Jax—Enjoy the pat-downs.
I gasp and snap my head up, searching left, right, and behind me, half-expecting him to be standing there watching me. More like wishful thinking. God, I’ve got it bad for that man. I’m filled with a need to sass him just to get back on an even keel.
Ronnie—What did you do?
Jax—Do you think so little of me?
Ronnie—Maybe…
Jax—I just know that if I was your TSA agent, I’d be taking a few liberties.
>
Ronnie—I’ll be taking my own liberties on myself tonight in my big, empty Vegas hotel room.
Jax—Is video calling on the table?
Ronnie—I’ll take that request into consideration.
Jax—Have a safe flight, beautiful.
Ronnie—I’ve got Co and Ezra flanking me. They’re my personal bodyguards apparently.
Jax—Good. I might have threatened bodily harm if anything happened to you.
Ronnie—As a strong, independent, modern woman, I should be offended.
Jax—But really, you find my protectiveness super-hot and you’ll show me just how much tomorrow?
I giggle and shake my head, earning weird looks from my two escorts.
“I bet Jax is being an idiot. That’s probably why she’s laughing. She’s wondering why she didn’t go for the youngest, better-looking Cook brother,” Co says with a smirk. Damn, that look is gonna get some woman in trouble one day.
“I don’t think so, young Cohen. A woman like Barbie here is looking for a suave wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing kind of architect,” Ezra counters, seeming to put his imaginary hat in the ring too.
Ronnie—You might wanna fire your bodyguards. They’re arguing over who is better than you.
Barely two seconds later, Cohen’s phone starts ringing from his pocket.
“Yes, Jax?” he says.
“Mmm hmm… right… I see…” he says, nodding with the phone up to his ear. His grin widens. “Ever think Ezra and I said that shit because we knew Ronnie would tease you with it? That woman likes ribbing you almost as much as we do.
“Right… yep… Already said we would…” He looks down at me and winks. “Okay. Yep. No one will touch her. Not unless she asks nicely.”
“Oh, God,” I say, covering my mouth to stifle my laughter. Ezra just chuckles, clearly not giving a shit if Jax hears.
“Yes, Jax. Stop worrying your pretty little head about it and let us go to our gate. Bye, twin one. Say hi to twin two,” Cohen says before ending the call and sliding his phone back into his pocket.
“You’re terrible,” I say with a laugh.
Co leans in. “I’ve got many a reference saying I’m far from bad.”
Sheesh. Is it getting hot in here?
He straightens. “But I never miss an opportunity to mess with Jax. It’s far too much fun.”
I shake my head and send one last text.
Ronnie—Love you. And yes, I think a video call sounds like a very good use of my hotel bed tonight. Especially if I’m a little drunk. Drunk Barbie might do some dirty, dirty things while thinking of Ken.
Then I turn my phone off straight afterward because any reply Jax sends me will be punishment. Besides, what did he once say about anticipation?
Once we step out of the airport in Vegas, we’re escorted in two Hummer limos to the Sovereign Hotel. Ezra’s called in some favors with an ex-girlfriend who now owns the hotel with her husband.
Once we’re checked in and have found our rooms, we all meet up in Jamie and April’s penthouse suite before the guys say their goodbyes. Jamie and Cade make Jax’s absence all the more conspicuous with the particular way they farewell their women.
“So, what’s on the agenda?” Gilly asks once the men have left.
The second we walked into the rather large living area of April’s room, Gilly and I set about getting the champagne poured for April and the two of us, and fetched orange juice for Abi. Then we all made ourselves at home on the huge L-shaped couch that’s so soft, I’d quite happily live on it forever.
“April has to get changed,” Abi announces, looking over to me and shooting a conspiratorial wink.
April’s head snaps my way, her eyes narrowed in her best mom glare.
I point my finger. “Oh, don’t you try and sass me, future Mrs. Cook. You agreed to a Vegas bachelorette weekend, so you have to go along with anything we have planned for you,” I say with a proud smirk. If only she knew.
With a loud sigh, her shoulders slump, and although she may seem to be against the idea, I know my best friend better than anyone. She didn’t get a good send-off the first time she married and this time—her last being single—I’m not letting her get married without some good old-fashioned raucous fun.
I stand and rub my hands together, Abi chuckling quietly opposite me, putting her hands up and feigning innocence when April swings a glare her sister-in-law’s way.
I bend down to pick up the innocuous brown paper bag I brought with me from Chicago. “Oh, this is gonna be fun if Ronnie has been shopping,” Gilly says, almost sounding gleeful.
I look down at my big sister and grin. “You have no idea just how much fun we’re all gonna have.”
Gilly’s eyes flash with fear before she quickly lifts her champagne glass to her mouth and takes a hearty sip.
I reach into the bag and look up to give April a knowing smirk, then pull out a French maid’s uniform, complete with a golden bride-to-be sash and gold tiara with a short white veil attached. What sets it apart from other ensembles is the thirty different penis decals I’ve had sewn onto the fabric, the plastic phalluses I’ve glued to the front of the crown, and the little cock key-rings tied to the hem of the veil.
“What is that?” April asks, her eyes bugging out as she takes in the outfit hanging from my hand.
“It’s your cock-stume,” I declare in a happy, uber-proud-of-myself voice.
“You expect me to wear that in public?” Her voice has a high shrill by the end of the question.
“It’s the Vegas way,” I say with a shrug, staring at Abi and waiting for her to back me up.
“I wore something equally fabulous for my bachelorette party, and I was in Chicago.” She waves her hand toward the short, tight, dick-centric dress still in my hand. “That’s probably mild by Sin City standards.”
April’s expression tells me she’s still not convinced.
“We’ve all got cock-stumes too,” I say. It’s not a lie; we do. They’re just not as overtly penis-centric as the bride-to-be’s.
Her eyes dart from Abi to Gilly, and finally, to me before she lets out a loud sigh. She downs the rest of her glass then leans forward to grab the champagne bottle off the coffee table for a top-up.
If it’s good enough for her, then it’s good enough for me. I follow suit, downing the rest of my drink and holding the flute out to April, Gilly following suit.
“You’re actually on board with this?” Abi asks, quirking a brow at her soon-to-be sister-in-law.
April shrugs, a smile tugging at her lips. “A few more of these and I’ll be up for anything. Besides, this will definitely be my last bachelorette party, so why not go out with a bang?”
“That’s later. I’ve already told Jamie he’ll get drunken, dirty sex. You’re welcome, by the way.” I wink at her.
Her head jerks back. “Why?”
“Just wait till you see the presents we bought you to help with the drunken, dirty sex. Why else did you think my grumpy big brother was grinning so much?” Abi asks.
“I just thought he was happy,” April says with a giggle.
“Oh, he will be… and so will you. Therefore, you’re welcome,” I repeat, holding up my glass in the air for a toast.
“To grumpy men, hot professors”—I nod to Abi—“hot doctors and…” I turn to Gilly, the only single one in the group. “And hopefully hot men we find this weekend?” I say enthusiastically, earning a snort from my sister.
“To drunken, dirty sex,” April says, clinking her glass around the group.
We all take a sip before the bride-to-be stands and grabs her outfit from the couch beside me.
“Where are you going?” I ask, knowing it’s far too early for us to hit the bars yet. Then again, two bottles of champagne won’t last long between the three of us either.
She shoots me a glassy, amused look, her lips quirked on one side. “I’m going to get all cocked-up of course. As you said, this is the last time I’m doing this, and I’m g
onna do it in style. Cock-stume and all. Viva Las fucking Vegas, baby,” she calls out as she grabs her French maid outfit and walks out of the room, swinging her hips like she owns the place.
One thing is for sure. Tonight is gonna rock.
By nine o’clock that night, the three of us who can drink have definitely done the night in drunken style. We met up with the guys half an hour ago, after cocktails, mechanical bull-riding, and a hilarious trip on the high-roller Ferris wheel. Now, we’re stumbling back to the hotel, a greatly amused Jamie holding up a giggling April, Cohen on my arm keeping me upright, and Ezra doing the same to my rather flirtatious sister. My fuzzy mind is focused on one thing—getting back to my room and putting on a video show for my absent boyfriend.
I wave a smirking Cohen off at my door and shut it behind me, kicking off my shoes and pulling my Vegas bachelorette-party-worthy dress over my head before dropping down onto the bed starfish style. I rummage through my purse and pull out my phone, throwing my bag onto the floor before rolling onto my stomach. As I bring up Jax’s number, my eyes drift out to the dazzling lights of the Strip through my window while I wait for the call to connect.
“Hey, beautiful,” he answers.
“Ken,” I say with a sigh.
He chuckles, and I swear I get instantly wet at the sound. “Sounds like you’ve been having a good time.”
“I’d be having more fun if you were here,” I say with a grin, thoughts of exactly what I’d do to him if he were here flashing through my mind.
His voice drops low and deep, just how I like it. “Is that right? You did promise me a video call…”
“I did, and I’m already naked and spread-eagled on the bed too.”
He groans and I feel that everywhere too. Even seventeen hundred miles away, he turns me on like no other man. It’s good to know I do the exact same to him.
“Turn on your video,” he says gruffly. “I wanna see you.”
I pull the phone from my ear and find the right button on my third attempt. When the camera turns on, I’m met by a close-up frame of the gorgeous gaze of the man I love.