Stay with Me

by Jules Bennett

  KISSING LIVIE

  “I don’t know how to play this game,” she admitted. “We both want different things and I’m used to getting what I want.”

  Her floral scent hit him in just the right, or wrong, way. Arousal churned deep in his gut and he hated that he had this strong of a pull toward someone so hell-bent on stealing his life.

  “Ironically, I’m used to getting what I want too.”

  That was all the warning he gave her before he crushed his lips to hers. He was done listening to her talk, he was finished with this conversation that was obviously going nowhere. He’d wanted to kiss her for years and now that she was right in his face, why the hell not . . . ?

  Books by Jules Bennett

  WRAPPED IN YOU

  CAUGHT UP IN YOU

  LOST IN YOU

  STAY WITH ME

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  stay with Me

  JULES BENNETT

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  KISSING LIVIE

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2018 by Jules Bennett

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4201-4496-3

  eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4497-0

  eISBN-10: 1-4201-4497-9

  Chapter One

  Get it, get out, get the job done.

  The mantra Olivia Daniels lived by had taken her from small-town girl to kick-ass city woman—stepping over men on her way to the top. So many from this tiny suburb of Savannah said she couldn’t, wouldn’t make it when she set out at eighteen to start her adult life in a big city. She’d intended to prove them all wrong and she was one promotion away from having all her goals met.

  Olivia had certainly never planned to return to Haven, Georgia, ever again . . . yet here she stood at the very same place that held so much of her past.

  Glancing around the open airfield, Olivia squinted behind her sunglasses at the bright morning sun. The hangars, if that’s what people called the old rusted metal heaps, sat next to another building that was just as run-down. The main building had mostly been wasted space, save for the small room her father had used as his office.

  With no paved lot and barely a functional sidewalk connecting the main building to the first hangar, it was clear this place could use a fresh start—or a wrecking ball. Gutters dangled precariously, the office roof looked as if it were made of sandpaper versus shingles, and the windows were so grimy it was unlikely anyone had seen in or out of them in the past decade.

  The only positive thing Olivia could say is the “landscaping” didn’t look as mistreated—if wildflowers counted as landscaping. There were tulips and daffodils popping up as far as the eye could see, which was pretty far considering this dump was in the middle of godforsaken nowhere.

  So what if Haven was her hometown? She wasn’t one to look at the world through rose-colored glasses—and even if she were, she doubted that they could help this heap.

  A twinge of guilt coursed through her at her initial thoughts since leaving so long ago. This had been her father’s life. Literally. He spent every single day at this airport, leaving Olivia and her mother mostly alone. He claimed it was for the income, but they hadn’t had much, so she always figured he’d just rather avoid his family.

  Olivia couldn’t afford to get nostalgic and from her first impressions, nothing here was going to change her mind. She was going to make this quick and painless, make this business deal and get back to Atlanta before anyone knew she was even in town.

  She was used to getting what she wanted, not because she fell into it, but because she busted her butt and worked hard to prove she deserved it. Right now, she was laying eyes on her next acquisition, if one could call it that. Too bad someone else currently owned the other half.

  Get in, get out, get the job done.

  Olivia repeated the reminder—she wasn’t leaving today until she got the deed in full.

  Pulling in a deep breath, Olivia straightened her pale pink suit jacket and headed toward the office. When she reached the back door, she rehearsed her speech once more.

  Confidence and preparation were key to any good negotiation. Olivia learned early on that the only thing that beat tenacity was being prepared to face your nemesis.

  “Livie Daniels.”

  She came to a dead stop. Who the hell called her Livie anymore? So much for that mental pep talk she’d just given herself. She wasn’t ready to be thrown into the past with the simple drop of a name she had so long ago altered. Livie no longer existed . . . not even in Haven.

  Shielding her eyes from the sun, Olivia put her hand over her forehead and turned toward the hangars. And just like that, nostalgia hit her as her past sauntered toward her outfitted with broad shoulders, a greasy T-shirt, equally greasy jeans, and a crooked smile.

  Jackson Morgan.

  Holy...

  Where had all those muscles come from? He’d been thirteen and hanging around the airport with her father when she’d left. A gangly teen with an awkward overbite.

  He was neither gangly nor overbiting now.

  Breathe, Olivia. He’s just a man. Offer the money and get out.

  “Olivia,” she stated when he was within just a few feet.

  He tipped his head. “Pardon?”

  Those eyes were just as striking blue as she recalled. A lock of coal black hair hung down on his forehead. The rest of his thick hair seemed just as unruly. Totally the opposite of anything she’d ever considered her type since she left Haven and had her heart broken by a country boy.

  So the tingling in her belly had to be from hunger, that’s all. She refused to get her feathers ruffled over an attractive man. She also refused to allow anymore hick-like sayings to creep into her head.

  “Nobody calls me Livie anymore.”

  Jackson shrugged. “I didn’t get the memo, text, or however you communicate with those city folks—to me you’re Livie. But none of that changes the question. What do you want? I assume you’re here to see me, considering I’m the only one around.”

  She star
ed, trying to find some semblance of the quiet, awkwardly thin boy she’d last seen when she lived here. “You look quite a bit different than I remembered.”

  “Military,” he replied, as if that one word summed up everything.

  Angling her body so the sun was at her back, she dropped her hand to her side. “Is there somewhere we can go to get out of this heat and discuss the property?”

  “Oh, there’s nothing to discuss unless you want to help fix faulty air controls on a Cessna Skyhawk.”

  “Not without my socket wrench.”

  The sarcasm flooded out of her before she could stop herself. Damn him for baiting her.

  Olivia was not going to explode. Pasting on a practiced smile, she crossed her arms over her chest. The sooner she could resolve this situation, the sooner she could get back to Atlanta and climb that last rung of the ladder at her firm . . . which was a whole other issue she didn’t have the mental capacity for right now.

  “You know full well why I’m here, so let’s not play games.” When he said nothing, she went on. “I’d like to talk to you about selling this property, Jackson.”

  “Jax.” He took another step forward, then another until he stood close. Too close. “Nobody calls me Jackson anymore.”

  Obviously, they were not getting off on the right foot if he was already throwing her words back in her face.

  “Anyway,” she trudged on, trying to ignore those soul-piercing eyes. “I’m sure you’re aware—”

  He swiped a fingertip down her cheek.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” she jerked backward, but ended up teetering in her heels.

  In an instant, Jackson—or whatever he wanted to be called—snaked an arm around her waist and caught her . . . his hand landing on her ass.

  Olivia’s breath caught in her throat as his hand remained firmly on her backside. Flattening her palms on his taut chest, she extracted herself.

  “Get your hands off me.”

  His abrupt release had her stumbling back a few steps, finally catching her balance. Infuriating man.

  “What were you doing?” she demanded.

  “You had something on your cheek.” He propped his hands on his narrow waist and appeared to be biting back a smile. “What were you saying?”

  If he thought mocking her was going to get him anywhere, he was dead wrong. The city had been good to her but it had been hard—she’d worked with men who thought they could best her simply because she was a woman. She learned early on to never back away from a challenge.

  “With acreage this size, the land is worth more if we can tear down these buildings and sell the empty space.”

  Jackson shifted his stance, his eyes holding her in place. “Are you that detached from everything outside your perfect world?”

  “Excuse me?” How dare he talk to her like a child? And after he’d manhandled her with those filthy hands no less.

  “You heard me. You can’t just drive your fancy car in here, expect me to bow to your wishes, and be on your merry way.”

  Okay, so this wasn’t going like she’d hoped. Why was Jackson treating her like a spoiled princess? She was fully prepared to make him an impressive offer—and he wasn’t even open for a discussion. Who didn’t like money?

  “Listen, I understand your livelihood is wrapped up in this place.” Appealing to his softer side should pay off— if he even had one. “But, in the end, this would be the best scenario for you and for Haven.”

  One dark brow lifted. “And I’m sure you’re not getting anything out of this?”

  “Money, of course.” But beyond that, Olivia wanted closure on this town once and for all.

  “This is my life,” he countered. “If you want to make money off this land, then I suggest you come up with some miracle on how to revamp the airport, because we sure as hell could use it. I want this place to live up to its full potential like it used to be. The concrete is all cracked, the buildings need new roofing, I won’t even get into the plumbing issues in the office area.”

  Olivia opened her mouth, but closed it when Jackson turned on his booted heel and walked away. Really? Did he think he’d just ended this conversation? She was not leaving here without a firm resolution to her issue.

  And just like that, the walls came down. Olivia could play hardball all she wanted, but at the end of the day Jackson had something she desperately needed. Not just for financial gains, but for her to keep her sanity. Otherwise, she might just crumble, something she swore she wouldn’t do when her past came back to haunt her in the form of this half ownership fiasco.

  Olivia marched right into the open hangar where she’d seen Jackson disappear. Nobody walked away from her—ever. That was a life lesson she learned long ago and made her into the business shark she was today.

  Blinking against the sudden change from bright sunshine to a darker space, she glanced around the near-empty area. One plane sat near the closed bay door. She recognized the plane . . . she’d learned to fly in that Cessna.

  Pulling in a deep breath, she forced herself to focus, but the door to the cockpit was open as Jackson leaned inside.

  She was not looking at his butt in those worn jeans. She refused. But, damn it, that’s all she could focus on and he . . . well, now he was just fighting dirty.

  Smoothing a hand down her pencil skirt, Olivia prepared for battle.

  * * *

  Jax gritted his teeth as he checked the panel once again. He didn’t have the time or the patience for some city slicker who thought she could come in and take charge . . . no matter what their past entailed.

  Clearly, Olivia—“don’t call me Livie”—wanted to keep a personal detachment. Fine, he could play her game. But he wasn’t about to let her just sell this place out from under him. He had too much to lose if the airport was taken from him.

  After she’d hightailed it out of town in her little sporty car and a whip of her short blond hair, Jax truly didn’t think he’d ever see her again. Unfortunately, life happened and she was back for the first time since she’d been eighteen . . . with a more expensive flashy car and much longer hair in a paler shade of blond.

  That punch of lust to his gut wasn’t going to be a problem. There was no way he’d be persuaded by another beautiful woman ever again—he’d learned that lesson the hard way.

  Just because she came strutting in claiming she now owned half, that meant nothing as far as he was concerned. Obviously, she was ignoring how this partnership came to be.

  Livie Daniels was all business wrapped in a perfect, curvy package. That pink suit was a nice touch . . . if he found city chicks to his liking. Jax was rather amused at how she thought she could talk down to him like he had no idea what she was doing.

  That whole “better for you and the town” speech had been a nice touch, but he’d been a senior airman in the United States Air Force. She’d have to do better than that if she was going to try to get on his good side.

  “Excuse me.”

  Of course she’d followed him. Someone like Livie didn’t like being told no. Well, she better get used to it because he wasn’t selling his half. Ever. No amount of money could compete with loyalty and family—and Paul Daniels had been like a father to Jax.

  Not only had he told her no, he’d ignored her, so that probably didn’t make her happy either. Too damn bad. He didn’t have time to cater to a pampered princess . . . no matter how sexy she looked in that suit wrapped over her curvaceous body. She was still trouble in stilettos and he had other things that needed his immediate attention.

  Slowly Jax eased out of the cockpit, reached up and curled his hands around the wing, staring at her across the way. It was all he could do not to smile at the streak of grease across her cheek.

  She hadn’t had a thing on her when he’d swiped earlier, but he’d been in a mood and couldn’t resist the petty maneuver of messing her up. He’d seen that bright red Beemer pull onto the grassy lot, had taken one look at her face, and known the prodigal daughter had
returned.

  The thirteen-year-old boy inside him didn’t have to remind him how he’d had a silly crush on someone five years older than him, how he’d always felt awkward when she looked his way or flashed a smile. He was well beyond that kid now—and had the life lessons to know better than to get sidetracked.

  Livie Daniels in all her perfection and class was an instant reminder of the last time he’d let lust guide his judgment. Never going down that path again.

  She returned his stare as she crossed her arms over her chest. Okay, time to draw this little meeting to a close. As much as he enjoyed the scenery, they were not going to come to an agreement right now . . . maybe never. And as long as he never agreed to sell, then she was at his mercy.

  “I realize you don’t want to be tied to this place,” he started. “Believe me, I don’t want you here either. But we both own an equal amount, so you’re going to have to get along with me.”

  Her mouth dropped open on a gasp. “Excuse me? I’m buying you out. We don’t have to get along or even be friends.”

  When she threw out an impressive number for his half, Jax raised a brow and whistled. He immediately thought of what he could do with that much cash, but instantly pushed pipe dreams aside. Selling his soul came at no price. He was proud of this life he’d created. Carrying on a legacy started by a man who meant everything to Jax was worth more than any amount of money offered.

  Now more than ever, Jax knew life wasn’t about cash. He had a daughter to look out for and to pass on the lessons he’d been taught—lessons in loyalty and love were priceless.

  “Nice, but no thanks.”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” she scolded, as if her words would hurt him. He was immune at this point in his life.