I clicked the Google icon on my computer, ignoring the email I was halfway through. I started with checking out living room furniture, and then clicked on bunk beds—there was some cool stuff out there for boys. They didn’t have a dog. Beck needed a dog. If I couldn’t be there, Mela needed a dog too. Something that would bark…alert her if there was someone near. Who was I kidding? She had better ears than a dog.
Already down the rabbit hole, I clicked on Google earth. Found her small town and then guided the mouse over the mountain to where I knew my girl lived. The roof of her cabin was still covered in snow, but smoke billowed out the chimney. I grinned…at my fucking computer screen. This was as close as I could get at that moment—but damn it felt good just to see the cabin.
That cabin. That cabin would fit inside the smallest wing of my house. One of my three cars cost more than that cabin. Any one of my ridiculous toys probably did as well. And I’d sell every single one of them if it would get me back to them sooner. That cabin felt more like home in the ten days I was there than my actual home ever had. Only twenty-seven hours since I’d been back in Denver, and I ached to return to her. I needed her in my arms. I had lost my motivation and reason for being…but not anymore.
***
“Where the fuck have you been?” Dalton asked, punching me in my chest at the bar.
“Lost,” was my only reply as I straddled the barstool.
“Care to explain?”
Dalton had been my best friend since fourth grade. After law school, I chose the government—he chose the defense. I made ends meet—he made a mint. That was Jackson Winslow in a nutshell. Never was I one to compromise my morals or ethics for a job. Criminals were criminals and it was my job to make them pay. Just ask my father.
I retrieved the subpoena from my sport coat pocket and handed it to Dalton.
“Your dad?” he asked, opening the folded paper.
I nodded at TJ, the man tending bar. He knew my drink and he knew it well. Within a short minute, a bourbon and diet coke slid my way.
“Jesus,” Dalton hissed, handing me back the official paper. “I’ve looked at everything, man. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
Both of us stared up at the Bronco’s game on TV as we sipped our drinks.
“Do you know how fast I’ve blown through that money? What do I have to show for it?”
He chuckled. “A nice fuckin’ car. A nice fuckin’ house. The work you had done on your goddamn perfect face.”
I laughed with him as I shot back my drink and motioned for another. The bourbon hugged my throat all the way to the pit of my stomach. He’d made fun of my looks since we were in high school.
“Ok, maybe you didn’t have work done on your face but you should.”
“I’ll get on that.”
The mood changed again. That’s how my life had been the past six months since my father’s indictment on securities fraud.
The next drink of bourbon was just as smooth.
“So where’d you disappear to?”
A slow smile crept over my face as I said, “I met someone.” I bumped his knuckle with mine. “Look at me,” I said, the seriousness of my tone catching his attention.
His brow furrowed. “What’s up?”
“This can’t go anywhere.”
“All right,” he nodded.
“I’m serious. I…can’t risk bringing my fight or my shit to her doorstep.”
“Come on, buddy. Have I ever let you down?”
Him saying buddy made me think of Beck…God, I missed that boy. And Dalton was right. I trusted him with my life. Period.
“I spent ten days with Mela McKinley.”
I watched as his memory searched for recognition. “Senator McKinley? Son was killed? The missing Columbian beauty?” He air quoted how she’d been referred to in the media.
“Yep.”
“She ran away with her kid, right?”
I nodded. “Beck,” I said softly.
The Chiefs scored and the entire bar let out a collective sigh of groans and accompanied profanity. Bronco fans were not used to losing. My box seats sat vacant tonight.
“Did she know who you were?”
My chin dipped to my chest. She had no clue who I was.
“No.”
“Sooo.” He dragged the word out.
“So, what?” I asked, scraping my fingers through my freshly cut goatee.
“What did you learn? Does she know the good senator is in prison?”
This time, I clawed at my hair and yanked, wanting to pull it out. I was so irritated with myself.
“No, Dalton. She saved my fucking life and was guarded as hell. Trust me that woman didn’t want to be found.”
I gripped my glass tumbler so hard I was sure it would shatter in my hand.
“And what did I learn? I learned that who’ve I’ve been isn’t who I’ve gotta be.” I paused, finishing my drink. The burn diminished quicker. “Christ, Dalton, I’ve been a mess the past couple of years. I’m lucky to still be the U.S. Attorney for Colorado and you know it.”
The hands sliding down my chest caught me off guard, and I spun quickly in my seat. Rhylie Ramshaw, in her tight, black dress and spiked heels squealed—a noise that made the hair on my neck stand.
“Mr. Winslow. Where have you been?” She wedged closer to me and pinched my tie in her fingers.
“Ms. Ramshaw,” I said, prying her fingers off my tie. Every guy in the bar was checking her out. And two weeks ago—yeah. But not now. She didn’t hold a candle to Mela. “It’s good to see you. How is the publishing world?”
I knew she was chomping at the bit to do an article on me, my family or my father. Sleeping with her wasn’t one of the best decisions I had ever made but it was in the past.
“Always looking for the next big cover story,” she laughed. “I, however, will take something or someone to tie me over until I can get that.”
She winked and lifted my tie as her eyebrows shot up at the same time. There was only one woman I wanted to tie up. And I would, this weekend. My mind was made up in that second. I smiled to myself. Instead of two weekends…I was going back in one.
“Your smile suggests we are a go,” she said, and I suddenly panicked, looking at Dalton.
What the fuck? This was new to me. I shook my head until Dalton rescued me.
“Not tonight, Rhylie. This man is my ride home.”
“That’s fine. Maybe we could all go home together.”
Dalton slapped my back, paid our tab and pushed me to the door.
“No.” That’s all I said.
“Wait. What?” Rhylie asked, shocked as she followed us. The minute the three of us stepped outside, the photographers started clicking. It had become a daily thing for me. Five years ago, I had become the heir to a fucking fortune and paparazzi gold. Today, I was the son to a soon-to-be convicted felon—who would spend the rest of his life in prison—even more golden now.
“Jackson!” One of the reporters shouted. “How does it feel to go from millionaire playboy to prison boy?”
“Hey, Jackson!” Another one shouted. “Will you give any of the money back to the people that your father screwed over when you go to prison?”
“He’s not going to prison, dipshits,” Dalton scoffed. “Learn the law. Check your facts.”
As the flashes flickered and the lenses snapped, Dalton and I walked with Rhylie in tow until I got her to her car. She loved this shit. Her name in the trash magazines was exactly what she wanted. I hit the top of her car so she could drive away.
I had no business driving. After Dalton and I slid into my McLaren, the doors closed and we sat in the silence. The paparazzi stood at the windows. Though they were there…it was quieter in the car.
“I’ve know you a long time, Winslow. That was officially the worst exit strategy I’ve ever seen in my life with Rhylie.”
“I know! I’m sorry.”
“I’ve never seen you deny a woman sex, buddy.” He chuckle
d.
I sat thinking about his words. They were true. But, I’d never found a woman that I wanted to resist. Until now.
“Yeah. That’s different. Sex is sex.”
“And you want more with this Mela?”
“I do,” I said, swallowing.
He started laughing.
“Wow. That shit’s gonna blow up the magazines. I can see the headlines now—Millionaire playboy prosecutor love drunk for missing beauty.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I laughed. The bourbon kept me numb. “I don’t give a shit what they say. She is all I want. They can write that in their papers.”
Something flickered inside Dalton’s eyes. “Why are we just sitting here?” he asked.
“I downed three bourbon and cokes in less than an hour. The last thing I need is a DUI.”
“Then trade me places,” he demanded and started scooting across what little console area there was, forcing me to go on top.
The paparazzi snapped shot by shot of us doing this and I could only imagine the damn headlines. We laughed so hard we could barely move.
“I’m so fucking glad I’m in the back,” Dalton laughed.
Tears streamed down my face when for a moment we got stuck, my head smashing against the top of the car.
“And my exit strategy was bad?” I asked.
The car parted the paparazzi as we made our way through—still laughing.
“I pulled out just fine, man.” Dalton laughed.
Chapter 17
MELA
My best friend, my lover, my everything
“Beck. Slow down just a bit. You’ve been sick. Remember that, buddy,” I cautioned Beck as he did the box jumps quicker than me. Mine was a 24-inch box. His was six inches, but damn he landed it every time.
“Burpees are next, right Mommy?”
“That’s right.”
I plummeted to the ground, did the push up and shot back up. Nineteen more.
When we got done with the WOD for the day, sweat drenched us both.
“What got into you, Tiger?”
Beck beamed after drinking from his water bottle. “I want to be like Jackson!”
A genuine smile stretched across my face. “And you will, if you keep working that hard.” Hearing his name did strange things to my body.
For seven days, I’d thought about his touch, his lips, his tongue, his smile. Seven more days. He said he’d come back. In all the time he was here, he hadn’t let me down. I’d wait. One more week. If I was honest with myself, I knew I’d wait even longer.
That afternoon as Beck worked on writing his ABC’s, we both heard the hum of an engine at the same time. His eyes darted up to mine and before I gave any indication, he jumped down off the barstool, grabbed his backpack and ran straight for the hideout. He did his job, so I did mine by being locked in and ready to go.
Without reservation, I opened the door bearing arms. My eyes froze…my heart melted when Jackson took off his adorable goggles. Here he was in jeans, again. His perfect smile made me go weak in the knees.
“Are we gonna have to go through this every time?” he teased as he trotted up the porch. “Frisk me, baby.” He held his hands out to the side.
I bit down on my bottom lip. “You came back,” I whispered.
Taking the gun from my hand, he slid it into the back of his jeans.
“Did you doubt I would? And I’m a week early by the way,” he winked before both his hands cupped my jaw. His mouth covered mine. His was cold from the trek here—mine was hot. Fire and ice came together. I moaned into his mouth as the kiss deepened. How did I ever live without him? This was crazy…irresponsible—our connection. For four years, I’d lived in a bubble protecting my son, and in an instant our bubble had been burst with the presence of this man. I worried if I was thinking clearly as the three soft pecks he always ended our kiss with tasted better than ever.
“I missed you. And Beck,” he said breathlessly. “Did he hide?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“May I?” he asked, tilting his head in the direction of the cabin. He wanted to get Beck out of the hideout. I smiled.
“Of course.”
When they came around the corner, Beck sat atop Jackson’s shoulders. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him so happy. His wide eyes lit with excitement.
“Mom! It’s Jackson!”
Delight filled my heart as the two of them joined me in the kitchen. Beck had a hold of both sides of Jackson’s face. He’d trimmed his beard when he returned to civilization but still looked every bit as handsome. For a moment, I got lost in the blue of his eyes.
“You ok?” he asked.
I nodded. “Sometimes, I think it’s a dream. And I wonder if you’re real.”
He moved in so close that I couldn’t move. Beck’s feet framed my face. “Every morning when I wake you up, I’ll remind you how real it is. And when we aren’t physically together, I’ll wake up and tell myself that it wasn’t a dream. Over and over again.”
My chin quivered—emotion overwhelmed me, but he quickly dipped down, dropping a kiss over my mouth.
“Eww,” Beck squealed. “You two kissed.”
I giggled glancing up at Beck—my cheeks filled with blood as he covered both his eyes trying to block the image. Regardless of our laughing, Jackson back stepped away.
I didn’t expect this. The level of comfort I felt with him in our home. We’d gone from him being my hostage, to being my caretaker, to being my lover, to leaving and now back again in less than a month. This was all so crazy. So unexpected. So perfect. So not what we needed. So everything that we needed.
For the first time in two weeks, the grass was visible through the snow. The sixty-degree temps melted the snow that had brought us together over the week he was gone. Always happy to see the snow go, a small part of me was sad—it was symbolic of our beginning.
After dinner, Beck colored while Jackson helped clean up. The tension between us was palpable. Heavy. The dishwater was hot, but when his hands slid into the sudsy water with mine…the water only grew hotter. His body pressed up against mine from behind. My back curved perfectly into his chest. His fingers intertwined with mine, sliding together through the soapy water in the most sensual way. Our hands made love in the water as I finished a fork and dropped it into the rinse water on the other side of the sink. Nothing remained in the water except for suds and our hands.
“Jackson,” I whispered. “I need to know…something…anything about you. I know nothing.”
I spoke into the air in front of me. But his mouth was buried in my hair, a rumble next to my ear.
“What do you wanna know? Ask me anything.”
“I don’t know. There is so much,” I panted. “Who caused the gash in your side? Are you dangerous?” I paused. “Are you in love with anyone?” Question after question flooded my mind. “When do you have to be back?” Seriously, it was like diarrhea of the mouth. The questions just exploded out.
He pulled his hands out of the water and grabbed the dishtowel. Then, slowly, he back stepped with a lazy grin pulling at his lips. “That’s a lot of somethings.”
He tossed the towel my way and I dried my hands. If I scared him off then he wasn’t worth it…right? Right.
“Question 1. Who caused the gash? My father.”
His blue eyes stared directly at me. Measuring my reaction? I fought hard not to react.
“He…got into some trouble. Given my position in the state of Colorado, I had to ethically recuse myself of any involvement in the case. Yet the case against him still had to move forward. I’d become aware of some information that would help the federal case and was torn between my professional obligations and my familial obligations. One night, he was…not of good mind.”
Jackson spoke articulately and with grave consideration of his word choices. It was clear he was being very cautious of what he said.
“I told him I couldn’t sit by and let the information go unknown.” Jackson shook hi
s head. “I think he panicked. What I had on him would extend his sentence, undoubtedly. When he pulled the knife…”
Jackson sat back with his eyes closed. The silence lingered between us. With reservation, I padded toward him until I was able to take his hand in mine. His eyes shot open, maybe not sure what to do with my presence, yet he squeezed my hand.
“I don’t think he meant to. I mean, he meant to but not…not.” There was a small break in his voice. “I know he loves me.”
Quickly, I nodded affirmation of this. “Of course he does, Jackson. Of course. So, did he get in more trouble because of hurting you?”
“You’re only the second person I’ve told,” he whispered, clearing his throat. “I had a friend do the stitches. And it wasn’t long after that I took off…just wanting to get lost.”
“That’s when I found you?” I smiled.
With his thumb, he drew down my face. “No, baby. That’s when you pulled two guns and kidnapped me.”
Laughing, I tried to shove him away, but he took hold of my elbows and kept me in place. His eyes were dark…serious.
“Question 2. Am I dangerous? I’m not sure what you mean by dangerous. I’d never hurt you intentionally, if that is what you’re asking.”
The word intentionally stuck out to me. There seemed to be a risk of unintentional hurt. I wanted clarification but I decided to let it go.
“Ok.” I wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Question 4,” he said tucking my hair behind my ears. “I need to be back in a couple of days. If that’s ok.”
I swallowed. God, how I wanted to spend a couple of days with him. Beck would love it too.
I took in a deep breath. “Did you come back just for sex?”
“Question 5. Yes. It was really, really, really good sex.” His face was stone cold serious, but when his left eyebrow cocked high on his forehead, I accepted the challenge.
“Jackson,” I whispered. “It really wasn’t that good…I’ve had way better.”
I’d never heard a man growl before, but when his left upper lip pulled into a snarl—a savage growl ripped up his throat. Darting down, his shoulder jutted into my hips as he shot upward taking my entire body with him.
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