She couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d done.
If I can fix it maybe then I can stop thinking about him.
Come morning, before she even thought of sleep, she’d go down to that shop and tell them that she’d never meant to cost Jay his job. If they didn’t hire him back, she’d make a fuss about the manager lying to her about sending her car out for someone else to do the work.
Maybe then she could get him out of her head. Maybe then she could move on and forget the feel of his touch. She’d never been haunted before, but that was what she felt. Haunted. Though she knew it was hopeless, she’d give it a shot. She didn’t know what else she could do to keep herself from going crazy.
Chapter 8
Haunted
Jay
When his phone rang, he knew it could only be one of two people. His mother, Leanne, or Mr. Yes. No one else bothered to call. Social media or texting worked just fine with him and the rest of the world.
Being that it was first thing in the morning, it probably wasn’t his mother. She knew his work schedule. Since he hadn’t told her he’d been fired, she had no reason to call him at nine in the morning.
Jay groaned and turned over the annoying buzzing device on his night stand. He’d spent a rough night, unable to get thoughts of The Doll off his mind. He had a term for every single person he didn’t like and that was the alter-ego that finally stuck.
The damn Laya Sanders was like a plague. He’d touched her and she’d done something to him. Instead of feeling better about getting his piece of his chest, he felt worse. He felt like he truly had come down with something. He was fevered, his skin running hot and then instantly cold. He was shivery and sweaty.
He couldn’t stop playing over that instant he’d stroked his hand up her thigh. Lord, her skin was soft. The softest, petal fine skin he’d ever had the pleasure, or misfortune, of touching. He imagined she was soft in a whole lot of other places too. Her gentle hips, her shapely ass, her lush breasts, those far too kissable pink lips. God, she smelled good too. Her sweet scented perfume seemed to be permanently lodged in his nose. The memory of it stirred other more elemental desires. He wanted to know what she smelled like; the true, unfiltered scent of her skin. Would she be sweet or spicy? Soft or ripe?
Fuck.
Jay reached for his damn phone, since it refused to shut up. He’d had way too many beers the night before, trying to drown out his current woes over losing his job and trying to banish Laya’s image from inside of him. He’d never been unable to drink a problem away. Which either meant she wasn’t a problem or she was lodged somewhere so deep inside of himself, not even the alcohol could touch it.
He slammed the bar of his phone onto the on position and brought it to his ear. He recognized the shop number right away. Probably Mr. Yes telling him to come in for his final check. He had a few choice words for the prick, if it was indeed him.
“Hello?” He croaked. It sounded like he’d spent a rough night, though he tried to keep his voice level.
“Jay. Get your ass into work. It’s your damn lucky day. You’ve been rehired.”
“Excuse me?” He was sure that he was actually dreaming. There was no way Mr. Yes would ever call him up and give him his job back. That would be a whole lot of humble pie eating and the guy didn’t know the first thing about being humble.
“You heard me. You’ve been magically rehired. Now get to work before you make me regret my decision.”
“Your decision?”
“Does it matter who made the call? You’re back, but only if you’re here within the hour. It’s your choice.”
“You missed me that much did you? The shop can’t survive without me, can it?”
“Of course it can. You’re so full of yourself it’s disgusting. If it was up to me, you’d have been out of here a long time ago.”
“Then clearly it’s not up to you. The orders come from higher up then huh? Martin himself give you a call?”
Mr. Yes gave another disgusted snort. Jay had the urge to pinch himself and be sure that it was indeed real. He couldn’t believe what the hell was happening. It was more than just his lucky day. There was no way he would have been hired back after what happened. Something had changed.
Or someone. Someone changed their mind. Laya.
“I’ll be there.” Jay clicked off his phone before Mr. Yes could answer. He didn’t need to hear anything more. Worse, he felt like someone had just reached down his throat and pulled his damn heart into it. His mouth was so dry he couldn’t force a swallow. His head pounded violently and it wasn’t just compliments of the ten odd beer he’d pounded back the night before.
The only way he would have had his job back is if Laya had gone to the shop and somehow talked with the owner. Which would have meant that he would have had to be called in. Which almost never happened.
There was no other way. Martin didn’t give a shit about what happened to his workers and Mr. Yes hated him so much there was no way he ever would have had a change of heart. He was right when he said that if it was up to him, Jay would have been ousted years back. No, something drastic had happened.
It didn’t feel like it was a coincidence that it happened right after his conversation with Laya. Right after he’d said his piece and more. He’d taken it too far. He’d said things he had no right saying. He wasn’t sure what it was about her that brought out the worst in him. He’d wanted to let her know that she’d cost him his job and what he thought about that, but he hadn’t meant to sling so many personal insults at her. He normally saved that shit for people he knew, people he trusted, people who should have had his back and didn’t. If someone betrayed him, he wasn’t exactly the forgiving type.
He’d gone too far. He’d cut too deep. He wasn’t proud of himself.
And clearly, he’d left an impression.
She went to the shop first thing this morning and got them to hire me back. How? Why?
He didn’t know how she’d done it, but he knew that he himself now had some of that humble pie to eat up. He rarely apologized to anyone about how he chose to live his life. He didn’t feel like apologizing to Laya, but he did owe her. Unfortunately he was in her debt.
Equally as unfortunate, the prospect of contacting her again was far more exciting than it should have been.
Chapter 9
Crazy
Laya
What the hell am I doing? I must be crazy.
When Mark phoned and told her that the same client from the day before wanted a repeat shoot at the same warehouse, she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t shocked. She had to wonder what kind of game Jay was playing at.
The ‘shoot’ was later in the day than before, which probably meant that he’d got his job back, like the shop promised would happen when she’d gone in and complained. They were as surprised to see her there as she was to be there. They must have wondered about her change of heart. They probably assumed she was as spoiled and entitled as Jay did. Maybe they thought she got off on messing with people.
If only they knew. That’s not at all what I get off on. Just thinking it brought a wicked rush of heat to her face. One glance in the rear view mirror confirmed that her cheeks were bright red.
She knew what she was doing this time. She wasn’t blindly walking into a set up again, yet there she was, on her way to meet with the one man she swore she never wanted to see again.
Hopefully he sucks it up and isn’t too proud to say thank you. Not that she expected he would. Jay didn’t seem like the kind of guy who thanked anyone for anything. He seemed like he’d been raised rough. He worked rough too and though that kind of lifestyle wasn’t etched into his features like it was with some people, she had a feeling it left an imprint on the guy’s soul.
What the heck do I know about his soul? I’m being ridiculous.
She pulled up in the same spot as before. All the air she’d carefully sucked into her lungs when the warehouse came into sight, evaporated in a long rush. The sound
was like a choked gasp. She resisted the urge to check her makeup in the mirror like she normally did. Her lipstick could be smudged all over her chin for all she knew. She couldn’t look. She couldn’t act like she cared.
Just get out and get it done with.
Her little pep talk didn’t work. She sat, frozen, in the driver’s seat for a few more long minutes. Just like before there was no other car in the parking lot. Like a sixth sense, she somehow knew that Jay was already there, inside, waiting for her.
She ignored the fact that the thought was also more than ridiculous. She couldn’t just sense another person. She wasn’t connected at all with Jay. In direct contradiction, her leg heated up right in the place he’d boldly touched her the day before.
Finally, because she couldn’t make herself leave since she was already there, because she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t find out what Jay wanted, and because she was desperate to do anything that would get him out of her tortured thoughts, Laya climbed out of the car.
She shut the door behind her. A click of the key fob put the locks down with a dull clunk. She’d worn more sensible clothing. Clothing that covered every inch of her skin. Jeans, a black blouse with full length sleeves and tall riding style boots. They were worn in and scuffed. She’d purposely chosen an old pair. When she’d picked her clothes, she’d been entirely too careful to pick ones that were equally as well used and worn in, ones that weren’t expensive like some items in her wardrobe.
She wasn’t trying to prove to Jay that he was wrong about her. She really wasn’t…
The warehouse doors gave way with the same squeal of rusty hinges. The floor was just as dirty. The dust motes danced in the same slanting beams of sunlight. The only difference was that this time Jay was already there.
He stood just off to the right of that beam of sunlight, like a dark angel who preferred the darkness to the light.
Please. Let’s get real here.
He was wearing a pair of faded jeans, stained with dark splotches, probably oil and grease and ripped up. His black t-shirt was far too tight fitting and outlined every single muscle in his shoulders, chest and abdomen. The cotton looked well-worn and impossibly soft. So soft that Laya found herself itching to touch it. Or maybe what was below it. Would the fabric be warm from the heat of Jay’s body?
His gaze flew to her face and she knew she was blushing again. She couldn’t help herself. Though she’d worn makeup, she knew that it was a dead giveaway that she was uncomfortable. Hopefully he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. She’d die of mortification if he knew that she was attracted to him.
There it is. The truth.
His lips parted as though he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. She’d either struck him speechless or he was well aware of what he was doing to her with the current look on his face. A look that said he’d rather have her flat on her back, screaming in pleasure, then standing twenty feet away, looking like she was going to bolt out the door at any given moment.
What would those lips feel like tracing the outline of her body? Her curves, her breasts, her… she cut that train of thought off right in its tracks, but the throbbing between her legs was undeniable evidence of the damage her mind had already done.
“You came.” Jay dragged out that word. Came. He made it sound dirty, lustful, burning with sexual energy.
“I… yes,” she stammered. “I needed to see what you could possibly want from me.”
“You came to hear me suck it up and tell you that I’m eternally grateful to you for getting me my job back, just admit it.”
Laya swallowed hard, hoping it wouldn’t be audible. She shifted from one foot to the other, realizing just how uncomfortable the boots she’d picked out actually were. She remembered, that she’d stopped wearing them and thrown them to the back of the closet because they’d been worn so often the plastic at the heel was sticking through. It chaffed the back of her right foot unmercifully.
“Alright, I’ll admit it. I wanted to hear you say that you got your job back. I wanted to hear you say thank you.” She paused and the silence swirled heavy and thick between them. “Are you thankful?”
Jay snorted. Those heavenly blue eyes remained trained on her. His far too fabulous, far too soft looking lips turned up in a mocking sneer. “I don’t know if thankful is the right word. I could have found a job anywhere else.”
“In that case, I’m sorry I went. I’m sorry I came here too. Have a good afternoon.” Laya spun, intent on getting the hell out of the warehouse before the swirling heat inside of her could crawl up her throat any further. She felt like there was absolutely no air in the warehouse. She was combusting internally and nothing could be more mortifying.
“Wait.”
She turned slowly, hating that she let Jay command her. “I’m not just going to jump because you say so,” she growled.
“No, of course not.” His sneer was gone. The mocking light in his eyes had faded. He looked, for just an instant, unguarded, beautiful, almost boyish. It was entirely too charming and completely disarmed her.
She nearly panicked. She needed that layer of anger to protect herself. “Well, what then? Are you going to thank me? Apologize maybe for the things you said? Admit that you were wrong? I assume guys like you don’t just admit that you’re wrong about anything because you never think you are in the wrong.”
She was rewarded with a laugh. A laugh of all things. The sound echoed through the empty warehouse, rattling off the walls, coming back at her. Surprisingly the acoustics in the place were astoundingly good for making a rich laugh seem that much richer.
“Maybe I was wrong about you. I thought a princess like you had been locked up in your tower for so long that you were completely out of touch with the real world, but I’ve rarely had someone read me so well.”
“I call bullshit when I see it.”
That laugh came again, bold, deep, wonderful. “It sounds weird when you swear. Let me guess that you don’t do it often.”
She shrugged. “There isn’t any need to be vulgar, although I could see how you have trouble believing it.”
He grinned at her, that bad boy, disarming grin that revealed surprisingly even, white teeth. He had the kind of smile that could easily destroy a person. The kind that drew attention wherever it went. The kind of smile that would look good on a billboard or an ad for toothpaste or dentistry.
“That’s right. Swearing is what makes using the English language so enjoyable.”
“Really?” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Go ahead then, I’m ready to hear your apology.”
“An apology and a thank you?”
“Obviously it’s far too much for you.” She dropped her arms and instead placed her hands on her hips. She knew it was a bossy stance, but she couldn’t help herself. “Seriously, you don’t have to bother. I know you wanted to meet with me today to thank me for getting your job back. You’re welcome. I didn’t feel right about getting you fired, even before yesterday. I didn’t want you to be right about me. I’m not like that. I’m not some stuck up little bitch. I know what I have and I’m thankful for it. I don’t take it for granted and I never have.” She wasn’t sure why she was standing there trying to explain or justify herself to him.
Jay seemed caught off guard. “I… I did come here to thank you. I could have got a job somewhere else pretty easily, but I know those guys at that shop. They’re good friends. One of them has been my best mate since we were kids. He’s dating my sister.”
“Oh…” It seemed a strange thing to say. Strangely personal.
“Yeah…” Jay seemed to realize it as well. “Get ready for it because I’m only going to say this once. I am sorry for misjudging you. Or at least for saying what I did. It wasn’t kind. I don’t know the first thing about you. I was just pissed off.”
“I know.”
“Really?” He raised one blond brow. “What else do you know?”
“Nothing.�
� Laya stumbled back a step. She really had to go. To get out of there. To distance herself from Jay and the way he was suddenly staring at her. He had that look on his face again, the kind of look a larger animal got right before it devoured its prey. He looked like he enjoyed the thrill of the hunt far too much. She didn’t want to be his prey. She didn’t want to be devoured.
Liar.
And that was exactly the reason she needed to get the hell out of there.
She did turn and walk quickly towards the door. She tried to keep from running, but her pace was so fast it could have been termed a jog. She was almost there, the door in sight, when Jay caught up with her. She’d heard him coming and could do absolutely nothing about the fact that he was at her back. And then he sidestepped around her, blocking the door, much the same way he’d done that first time.
He was so close, so impossible broad, looming huge over her. The darkness clung to him, the shadows like a cloak. He looked so damn good cloaked in black, shrouded in mystery. She breathed in and scented the sharp tang of the shop. Motor oil and maybe welding fumes. She’d actually taken shop class in high school. If Jay knew that, he’d fall over dead. She’d tried welding so she knew what the scent of it smelled like on her clothes and hair after.
“I want to know,” Jay breathed. “I want to know if you thought about me. Is that why you got my job back? Truly?”
“I… no, of course not.” She shook her head vehemently, far too roughly. She felt like a kid caught in a huge lie, obvious for the wildness of it.
“You did. You did think of me.” Those blue eyes darkened impossibly. His lips parted and when he took a step forward, she didn’t take a step back. She could feel the heat of him radiating towards her. She knew he was going to touch her again and was thankful she’d covered all of her skin.
Except even that backfired on her as he reached out and caressed her jawline, slowly, infinitely softly, with all the care in the world. He touched her the way a familiar lover would, a lover who was still filled with the newness or illicit meetings and dark nights of wild passion.
Forbidden Soulmates_A Steamy Hot Revenge Romance Page 5