Rude Awakening

by Veronica Chadwick

  Jaimee wanted to scream. It wasn’t like she didn’t know with the way things were going her mother would most likely meet Lucas eventually. Still, she wasn’t looking forward to the occasion and she sure as hell didn’t want it to happen unexpectedly. She gritted her teeth as she yanked open a dresser drawer and quickly pulled on a pair of loose-fitting black lounge pants and an oversized pale pink tee.

  The doorbell was sounding by the time Jaimee got downstairs. As quietly as she could she gathered the clothes they’d hastily discarded earlier and started to run them back upstairs. Lucas met her on the first landing.

  “Here, take these upstairs. I’ll get rid of her.”

  He pulled on his pants and after a short pause, his shirt, then tossed the rest up the stairs. The doorbell rang again—three short impatient tones. She didn’t have time to deal with whatever he was going to do.

  “Seriously, Lucas, go back upstairs until I can get rid of her. Please.”

  “Wait,” he said, grabbing her wrist as she turned to go.

  “Lucas, you don’t understand. My mother is a piranha. With all the grace of a born-again Southern belle, she will verbally shred you.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  Karen knocked, her muffled voice calling out. Panic rose, and with it, the beginnings of a tension headache started needling at her temple. Then Lucas kissed her palm.

  “Jaimee, baby, this isn’t you. You’re an intelligent, incredibly strong and brave woman. Don’t give her the power to change that. She can only do to you what you allow her to do.”

  Jaimee frowned up at him and pulled her hand away. “I’m not afraid of my mother, for cryin’ out loud. I just don’t want her to insult you.”

  He returned a frown of his own and crossed his arms. “I think I can handle myself.”

  “Fine then.”

  “Good. Answer the door,” he snapped.

  “I was going to,” she snapped back. She was being snarky, but the whole pep talk thing he was laying on her just rankled. She made her way down the steps and to the door with her teeth and fists clenched. She wasn’t afraid of anything, dammit. She pressed her lips together, unlocked the door and swung it open.

  “What in the world took so long?” Karen gave Jaimee a head-to-toe glance. “Were you taking a nap?”

  Before Jaimee could respond Karen stepped through the door, her sharp hazel eyes locking on Lucas. He casually leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest, his dark mane of hair wild and free, falling over his shoulders. Karen froze, her expression of disapproval deepening to something closer to revulsion.

  God, she hated that expression of disgust on her mother’s face. It was when Karen turned her cold, scornful eyes on her that she realized Lucas was right. A lifetime of doing anything to avoid the look her mother was giving her now had produced nothing but disappointment for both of them. Resentment settled deep inside her and she tensed, straightened and threw all good sense to the wind. Taking a stiff step back, she glanced briefly at Lucas, not missing the slight smile that curved his lips, then met her mother’s gaze with all the confidence she could muster.

  “Momma, this Lucas Grayson. Lucas, this is my mother, Karen Covington.”

  Lucas stepped forward and offered his hand. Karen reluctantly shook it. “I didn’t know you had company. I didn’t see another car.”

  “I live around the corner,” Lucas answered.

  Karen cut her eyes to Jaimee, dismissing Lucas altogether. “I thought it would be nice to spend the evening together. I brought a movie.”

  Jaimee smiled even though she didn’t feel like it. “I keep telling you, Momma, call first. Tonight won’t work. I’m spending the evening with Lucas.”

  Karen didn’t bother to smile. “I don’t mind if Lucas stays and watches the movie with us.”

  “No, we’ll have to watch it another night.”

  Karen frowned and looked from Jaimee to Lucas and back again. “It’s not good for the two of you to be here together alone, Jaimee. Even if you are just friends. Do you know how that looks?”

  “We aren’t just friends and it doesn’t matter to me how it looks.” Jaimee struggled to keep her voice from hitching up an octave. She placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder to encourage her to leave. “Go have dinner with Jason. I’ll call you later.”

  Karen’s tight expression shifted smoothly into that all too familiar scowl of disgust as she shrugged off Jaimee’s touch. “Jaimee Elaine, have you been sleeping with this man?”

  To hell with it. She was sick to death of this. Lucas was so right. “Yes. Yes, I have. I’ve had sex with him too. And, I want to have sex with him again. Which is why I’d like for you to go home. And call me next time.”

  “You know this is wrong. You know—”

  “Momma,” Jaimee interrupted. “Stop before you say something you can’t take back.”

  Her mother’s face was red, her eyes hard and cold. “I knew you’d turn out like your father,” she whispered furiously. “I warned you, Jaimee, I did. You’ve given Satan an opening to destroy you and your calling.” Karen sighed deeply. “You’ve always been hot-blooded, Jaimee. I thought if I prayed hard enough, if I kept you in church and raised you right you wouldn’t turn out to be like your father. I did everything I could to raise you not to be like this.”

  Shoulders sagging in defeat, Jaimee watched her mother visibly shaking with righteous anger. “Like what, Momma? Go ahead and say it. I know you want to. Go on, spit it out so we can get this over with.” The words were soft, resigned though they held so much pain. Years of pain.

  “A whore, Jaimee, you’ve become no better than a common whore!”

  There it was. Jaimee closed her eyes and exhaled. After taking a moment to steel herself, she lifted her eyes to meet her mother’s hard, accusing gaze and straightened her spine as best as she could.

  “It took me a while to finally realize that your opinion is wasted on me. In the big scheme of things it really doesn’t matter what you think about me or anything or anyone anymore.” It seemed to take insurmountable control to calmly open the door for Karen, but she didn’t show it. She was careful not to show it. “Goodbye, Momma.”

  Karen walked out the door without another word, without looking back. Though everything she’d said was absolutely the truth, there was a sharp, sickening pain that pierced Jaimee’s heart as she watched her mother get into the car. Still, she waited until Karen pulled out and drove away before closing the door.

  She took one, two breaths, then turned to face Lucas. Before she could push past the numbness to form a coherent explanation, Lucas wrapped his arms around her. Without hesitation she returned his embrace, giving him a quick squeeze. She went to let him go, but he held her firm. Enveloped in the warm spicy scent of him, she nearly broke. Nearly. Jaimee bit her lip and tried to swallow the knot of emotion that formed in her throat. No one had ever held her before, really held her. The realization of that harsh fact made her sad. A deep, raw, vacant kind of sad that took her breath away.

  But Lucas held her tightly against his solid warmth and rubbed her back, like he wanted to absorb her pain and offer her strength. In a way he was doing just that. If her “relationship” with Lucas was unconventional and improper, did that make her a whore? Did it even matter if it did? She was right where she wanted to be and that was all that mattered.

  He’d been right, what he said on the stairs. With that one clear, very accurate statement he’d jerked her perspective. Changed her focus.

  She really did believe he cared about her on some level. He had to care. Otherwise he probably would have bolted. Still, a soft warning in the back of her mind whispered to her not to read anything into it, and dammit, she really wanted to read more into it.

  “You okay?” He kissed the top of her head.

  “I will be.” The sound of her voice, thick with unshed tears, made her wince.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not really
, no.”

  Gently he cupped her face between his warm palms and stroked a thumb over her cheek as he watched her, waiting for her to lift her eyes to his. The pounding of her heart, the fear of what she’d see in those rich, penetrating eyes of his. She bit her lip and laid a hand over his, maybe to steady herself, maybe just to make sure he didn’t retreat, and looked up at him.

  “Tell me you didn’t buy into that bullshit.” To her relief there was no annoyance, pity or disgust in his eyes but there was something. Some unnamed something she wasn’t about to try and decipher.

  “No.” Jaimee paused and tried to look away but Lucas held her firmly. “I don’t think I’m a whore. I haven’t exactly been virtuous and I’m thinking God is probably less than pleased with me right now. I’ve known you for what, a week and a half?” She sighed. “Kinda easy maybe, but I’m not a whore.”

  The muscle in Lucas’s jaw pulsed, his eyes darkened, hardened as he searched her face. For a moment Jaimee thought he was going to argue the point. If he did she’d just concede. The last thing she wanted to do was argue, and God, she’d die if he left her tonight.

  Seconds ticked by while Jaimee held her breath, waiting, teetering on a kind of edge. Finally he tilted her face and kissed her so softly his lips barely brushed over hers and yet it made her toes curl. “No, you’re not.” His warm breath fanned her lips. “You’re an angel.”

  The hard plane of his cheek beneath her palm was warm and rough with stubble. “You have so overestimated me.” Her laugh was soft. “But thank you.” And she meant it. She so meant it. Lifting herself up on her tiptoes, she kissed him hard and grasped the back of his head. Cool, thick hair sifted through her fingers as she tilted her head and aggressively nipped at his bottom lip while she clutched a fistful of his hair and tugged gently to bring him closer. With a groan, he took away her control of the situation as he grasped her waist and yanked her body against him, pulling her off her feet. Complaining was the furthest thing from her mind.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The small bar was packed to well over capacity. The hedonistic throng of sweaty, pheromone-laden bodies pressed together on the dance floor didn’t seem to care much. Lucas sat stiffly in the back corner booth. His lukewarm bottle of beer was all but forgotten as he watched the people move to the music as though they were one undulating body.

  The events of the night before played through his mind for what seemed like the millionth time. After Karen had ripped Jaimee’s heart to shreds, he had spent the night trying to heal it to some extent. Waking up this morning with Jaimee’s soft, naked body snuggled up to him, her head resting on his shoulder, her hand lying over his heart was soul shattering. She had been truly angelic. While she slept peacefully, his fingers had explored the silky softness of her relaxed brow, her pretty pink cheeks, her full, sexy-sweet lips. Kissing her awake had been achingly sweet. His chest tightened with raw emotion when she lifted her sleepy eyes to his, smiled and said “Thank you for staying.”

  That emotion stayed with him and made him feel restless all through the day. Now as he sat across from Michael Butler, all Lucas could think about was keeping Jaimee safe. He just wanted to get her through this entirely fucked-up ordeal as whole as possible.

  “I want to bring her in.” It was time. Besides, he had a better chance of keeping her safe if she was aware of Edward Zachary’s intentions. They’d intercepted a call between Marshall and Zachary and knew they were getting restless and would move on Jaimee soon. With or without approval he would do whatever it took to protect her. Whatever it took.

  “Not yet.”

  “Let me rephrase.” His steady gaze met Michael Butler’s across the table. “I’m going to bring her in.”

  Michael took a deep breath, his brows furrowed. “Grayson, you’re no longer objective.”

  “It’s not about objectivity. She’s in some serious shit now. Marshall’s got nothing to lose. He’s going to do what he has to do to save his ass. I want her in protective custody.”

  “Your protective custody, right?”

  The question didn’t deserve an answer in Lucas’s estimation. “She’s not stupid, Butler. She can handle it. She’ll be more helpful to us if she knows everything.”

  “Look, you’ve slept with her, made her believe you cared for her. Which means—”

  “Fuck that.” Lucas fought to rein in his anger.

  Michael took a draw from his bottle, set it aside in disgust. “Which means, my friend, she’s gonna be hurt, and pissed off, therefore…uncooperative at best.”

  “I told you she’s a smart woman. Once she’s briefed, she’ll understand and she’ll cooperate.”

  “I would have thought you of all people would know women better than that.”

  Butler’s calm, confident debate was setting his teeth on edge. “I know this one. She’ll be livid and she’ll cooperate.”

  “Yeah but she doesn’t know you. And when she does…” Michael lifted a brow. “Ah, I see. You more than care, you’ve fallen in love with her.”

  Lucas stilled, his scowl deepening. That’s impossible, he told himself, all the while trying to analyze just what it was he was feeling for Jaimee. His protectiveness concerning her was a built-in drive he had for all women, although his need to keep Jaimee secure was fierce and all-consuming. She made him feel, made him think about the future. And family. Had he ever really thought of his life past the job before?

  “Hey, man, this situation isn’t at all unique. Hell, it happens on occasion, it’s inevitable. But I’m gonna tell you right now, it never ends happily.” Michael leaned forward. “Like I said, when she finds out the truth she’ll hate you, especially in this situation. You’d best accept that and prepare yourself for it.”

  Michael was probably right but he had to take a chance, had to do everything in his power to make Jaimee believe in him. Whether it was love or not, he didn’t want to think about being without her. And the longer he kept the truth from her the more damage would be done. The more probability he’d lose her forever. There was no way in hell he would give up the one glimmer of happiness that he’d had in ages. She was his now and if he had to move heaven and hell, he’d do what it took to keep it that way.

  He met Michael’s gaze. “As an agent. I’m telling you, the longer we keep her in the dark the more danger we’re putting her in.”

  Michael sat back in the booth and sighed deeply. “Yeah I know, but we can’t bring her in yet. Soon, but not yet, there’s too much riding on this. And as a friend, I’m telling you to separate your heart and your dick from the situation and think this through. You’ll see I’m right.”

  “You fucking bastard. You’re using her as bait,” Lucas growled through clenched teeth.

  Michael scowled then and returned Lucas’s heated glare. “You’re wrong. Shit, Grayson. She’s in it, she’s fuckin’ in it. Turner put her in it, I didn’t. I know that sucks but that’s the facts we have to deal with. This situation is riding a fragile fuckin’ line.”

  Lucas narrowed his eyes and sat back, assessing Michael with cold fury. “I’ll go so far as to say your argument has…some merit. That’s all you’re getting. She gets hurt, Butler, I’m coming after you.”

  The corner of Michael’s mouth tilted. “Do your job, Grayson, and she won’t get hurt.”

  “I want The Pope brought in on this.”

  Michael’s brows rose “Now look…”

  “Fuck you, Butler. Get The Pope on board.”

  Michael studied Lucas’s gaze, his lips thinned as he finally nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Do it.” Lucas controlled the urge to clench his fists as he slid out of the booth and stood over Michael. “Call me in the morning before twelve and tell me he’s on his way or to hell with it. I’ll pull Jaimee in whether you approve or not.”

  Lucas didn’t give Michael a chance to respond as he walked away. Let the fucking Bureau pick up the bill. He made his way out of the crowded bar to the SUV. Was he on anoth
er plane than the rest of the agents working this fucking case? Or was Michael right? Had he let his feelings for Jaimee color his perceptions? If anything, the fact that he loved her—and yes goddammit he loved her—should only sharpen his resolve to wrap up this case with Jaimee as whole as possible. However, his focus had shifted from taking down The Collective. It had narrowed and sharpened to one very vibrant woman.

  Slamming the car door behind him, he punched the dashboard, rattling the sensitive electronics as he punctuated the strike with a colorful string of profanity that would have had his mother scowling up at him in stern, tight-lipped disappointment. The violent growl of Metallica thundered from the sound system when Lucas started the engine. Leaning over he pressed the volume button up, filling the vehicle, enveloping himself in the rage of the music. It was a good fucking thing Turner was dead. If he were alive now he would kill the fucking bastard with his bare hands for putting Jaimee in this situation.

  Anger and frustration made sleep elusive. At twelve a.m. Lucas still sat at his desk listening to Jaimee breathe deeply as she slept. He called her, talked to her, promised to see her soon but he couldn’t go to her tonight. His thoughts and emotions were too volatile, too on edge. The realization that he loved her shook the foundation of everything he believed about himself. At the same time it gave him peace. It soothed something inside that he didn’t even know was raw and aching.

  Jaimee’s soft whimper seemed to brush over his skin, igniting his senses. This damned constant throbbing erection was driving him mad. He stood and ripped the earphones from his head and threw them across the room with a roar. Somewhere along the way he’d become a sappy, love-crazed horn dog. What had happened to him? Finding himself so in need of her was disconcerting to say the least. Jaimee consumed him, his heart, his mind, his body and it was distracting him from his objective. Damn Butler. He was right.

  He rubbed his hands over his face and took a deep breath. For the sake of them both he had to get a grip and focus on completing this assignment. When everything was said and done with Zachary and his minions either dead or behind bars, then he could focus on Jaimee and work on winning her trust back.