by Tim O'Rourke
How could I refuse that smile? It had an arrogance, but also a certain amount of charm.
I turned away from the door. Crossing my arms, I looked at him and said, "If you make me laugh, I’ll stay – if you don't – then I'm out of here. Knock yourself out, cowboy."
Please be funny, I thought.
Looking straight back at me, he said, "Why did the monkey fall out of the tree?"
"I don't know?" I shrugged.
"You're supposed to say, 'I don't know, why did the monkey fall out of the tree, Jax?'" He smiled again, taking another step toward me as I stood by the exit.
He was within touching distance again. "Why did the monkey fall out of the tree, Jax?" I asked like he told me to.
"Because it was dead," he said, his face as straight as a poker player.
"That's not funny," I said, trying to mask a smile.
"So why are you smiling?" he grinned back.
"Because it was the dumbest joke I've ever heard," I told him.
"Aren't all jokes dumb?" he asked, so close now that I could smell the musky scent of his aftershave. My heart sped up just a little.
"I guess it depends on who's telling the joke," I said, keeping a straight face this time around.
"So if my joke was so unfunny, why isn't the door hitting you in the ass as you run for the hills?" he said, looking into my eyes, then down at my mouth.
Was he checking to see if I were laughing, or was he wondering what it would be like to kiss me? I pushed the thought away.
"So?" he asked.
"So what?" I asked back.
"So are you staying for a while longer?" he smiled, cocksure he knew what my answer was going to be.
"I'm leaving," I said, turning and opening the door. The warm Floridian night air brushed my hair from my shoulders. Then, looking back at him, I added, "You can come, too, if you want."
Chapter Seven
Jax
I raised my eyebrows in surprise. As soon as she replied to my smartass comment, her voice hit me like a slap in the face. She had the coolest accent I had ever heard. What is that? English? Australian? Shit… I have to ask her… I know the English get pissed when you ask them if they’re Australian. And the Australians get even more pissed if you ask if their accent is English. I heard a couple get into it in Starbucks once. It was ugly. And quite amusing. We continued bantering back and forth, and just to keep her talking, I decided to tell her the lamest joke I knew. It wasn’t even funny; in fact, it was so very unfunny that I could see a smirk playing on her pretty puffy pink lips and I couldn’t stop staring at them as that voice bellowed out of them. God, that accent was so awesome. I wondered what it would sound like as she called out my name in the throes of…
She made to leave, and glancing over my shoulders, I saw Trent and Gabe watching me with amusement. I lifted my beer bottle in a wave. Trent saluted me, almost laughing, and I turned around and followed her out, tossing my beer into a nearby trash can. It was then I noticed what she was wearing. A plain pink T-shirt and some denim shorts and… were those sneakers? Wow, who dresses like that in a club?
Not that I cared… her ass looked damn fine in those shorts. Plus I couldn’t wait to see where this chick was taking me.
Holy freakin’ crap! I didn’t even get her name.
I jogged to catch up with her. “Uh… I’m Jax, by the way,” I said, grateful I’d thought of it so I wouldn’t have to flat-out ask her name.
“Mina,” she said plainly. “And I knew yours already. You said it during your lame monkey joke, Jax.”
I scratched my goatee. “So, Mina, where are you taking me?”
She stopped at her car, a small simple blue Mitsubishi sports car, and leaned against it with her arms folded, keys jangling from her long fingers.
“Well, Jax, what did you have in mind?” She was fixing me with an intense stare.
Oh, I think she knew what I had in mind. And it was at this stage of the game where I would normally throw the girl into my truck or onto the back of my bike and whisk her off to my place or hers, and have my way with her. I sound like a damn caveman, don’t I? Ladies love the cavemen...
Except this wasn’t just some girl. I saw this chick all the time; it would be way awkward if I just slept with her and then didn’t call her. And if I did think I’d want to call her again, then I certainly don’t want to go have her in my bed the very first night. As I’m sitting here contemplating this, she had this part hopeful, part amused look dancing in her gorgeous blue eyes. Then she started to bite her lip and I looked at her teeth and wished they were mine.
I cleared my throat and smiled. “How about coffee?”
Her face registered a small bit of shock, but then a smile lit up her pretty features. “Well I only drink tea, but sure, we could find someplace open late, if you want.”
I nodded and led her over to my truck. I had to help her in, as it was jacked up pretty high, but she managed fine. I noticed she didn’t have a purse.
“Did you lock your car, Mina? This place gets pretty rowdy when it’s late… no pun intended.” I smirked.
She looked at me confused, not getting my “Rowdy” joke so I cleared my throat. “I mean, you don’t have a handbag or anything…”
“Oh, I have this,” she said, pulling a small folding wallet from her back pocket. I noticed she had her phone in her hand.
“Uh, okay.”
I rumbled out of the parking lot and found a Denny’s Restaurant about five blocks from the club. I knew they stayed open as late as the bars did, so I pulled the Ford into the lot. I jumped out of the truck and she stayed in it. What in the hell was she doing?
Shit! She wants me to open her door. I truly am a damn caveman.
I rushed around and opened it, and she gave me a playful smile. “You American boys… no manners at all.” I could tell she was joking. And really, how could I argue with that?
Once we were seated and had menus and water, I looked up at her. She was staring at me, her hand resting on her iPhone. I looked down at it, then back up into her anxious face.
“Well, I think you should know that we American boys do have manners. My dad taught me well. I just don’t… date a lot.”
At that, she almost looked as if she wanted to laugh. Why was that funny? One night stands don’t count as dates. Not that she knew anything about those.
“Is that so?” she asked in that beautiful accent of hers.
I smiled. “So where are you from, Mina?”
“London.”
I had to keep her talking. “Really? Are you an exchange student or something?”
Her face grew more serious. “No. Just a student. No exchanging happening here.”
I thought her comment was very odd so I looked at my menu. I wasn’t hungry but thought maybe I should order something to eat so I could put something in my mouth instead of having stupid things coming out of it. I don’t know what it was about being this girl’s company, but she kinda had me all tongue-tied, which made me feel a little uneasy.
Chapter Eight
Mina
I don't know why, but Jax seemed a little nervous. Perhaps nervous was the wrong word. Edgy – that was the word I was looking for. He had looked down twice at my phone. Did he know that I had it on and was recording short snippets of him and our conversation? No, he didn't know, I was sure of that. He would have been more than just edgy if he knew I was recording him. He would’ve been as mad as hell – just like my mother had been. He ordered two shakes and I watched to see if he checked out the waitress’ arse as she flounced away. He didn't, he was looking at me. Good. It made filming him easier.
"Expecting a call?" he said, staring back at me from across the table.
"Huh?" I mumbled.
"You haven't let go of your phone since we got here," he said glancing down at it then back at me. His dark eyes were like wells – easy enough to fall into. His little goatee was black and coarse-looking. I'd never kissed a guy with a beard before, and
I couldn’t help wonder what it would feel like to be kissed by him. Would it feel rough? Would it make my skin tingle? I crossed my legs beneath the table and pushed the thoughts that were creeping around the edge of my mind away.
Cupping my hand around my phone, I placed it into the pocket of my denim cutoffs. I smiled at him, trying to hide my annoyance that I'd had to stop secretly filming him. But I couldn't risk getting caught. Not again – not ever. I'd been caught once before and ended up living five thousand miles away for home because of it.
"So what's London like?" he asked.
"Wet," I said without thinking.
"Now I could say something funny about you being wet," he said with a mischievous grin. "Do you want to hear it?"
"No thanks," I blushed, already regretting what I had said.
"So what's London like when it's not wet?" he smiled. The waitress arrived, placing the shakes on the table.
"Busy, like any other city, I guess," I said, lifting the shake and slowly drinking through the straw.
He watched me suck some of the drink up into my mouth. He was watching my lips again. I shot him a stare and he looked from my mouth and up into my eyes. I thought I saw him blush – just a little – but it was there all the same. I knew what he was thinking. I knew what he was imagining my mouth doing. I didn't need a camera to see that.
"I get the impression you don't want to talk about home much," he said, slurping up some of his shake and looking at me over the top of his glass.
"There's not a lot to say," I lied. I missed my home very much.
"Running away from something?" Jax asked.
"Sent away," I said without thinking. I wish I could've taken that back already.
"Sent away by whom?" He didn't miss a trick.
"Forget it," I said, sipping from my straw again.
"You can't ask me to forget something like that," he said, sitting back in his seat and looking at me. "You have me intrigued."
"I'd really rather not talk about it," I said, folding my arms across my chest.
"Was it some kind of guy trouble?" he smiled.
"Why does it have to be guy trouble?" I stared at him.
"Is there any other kind?" Jax asked with a grin.
"I guess not," I half-smiled, not really wanting to. I was fast discovering that Jax had the habit of being able to make me smile when I least wanted to.
"So it was a guy then?"
"Okay, so it was a guy," I sighed. "Happy now?"
"Why would I be happy?" Jax frowned.
"That you were right," I said back.
"I didn't mean to pry."
"Yeah, you did," I said, looking down at my shake.
"Why would I want to pry?"
"Because if I'm hung up on a guy, that suggests I’m the clingy type." Then, thinking of the constant stream of women I'd seen him lead into his house as I'd sat and secretly watched him, I added, "Guys like you don't like clingy."
"How do you know what sort of girls I like?" he asked, putting his shake down.
How did I answer that?
"I sat and watched you check out at least six women during the short amount of time you were in that bar," I said, hoping that this was a reasonable enough explanation.
"So you were watching me?" he asked.
"I didn't say that," I said.
"Yeah you did – you definitely said you were watching me."
"It might have been what I said, but it wasn't what I meant," I said, wanting to squirm in my seat. Jax was staring at me again with those dark eyes of his. Was he enjoying watching me look uncomfortable? I wish he would stop looking at me like that.
"So what did you mean? You must have been watching me if you know exactly how many girls’ asses I looked at." He wouldn’t let it go.
"Don't flatter yourself, Jax. I couldn't care how many girls you were mentally undressing," I said, trying to regain some ground. "I recognised you from the coffee bar, and..."
"So what were you doing in Rowdy's anyhow?" he cut in.
"I was meeting a friend there..." I started to lie again.
"What? Wearing a pink T-shirt, denim hot pants and sneakers? Rowdy's isn't the kind of place you dress like that," he said.
Was he growing suspicious of why I was really in the bar?
"I didn't know there was some kind of freaking dress code," I snipped back. Having a simple shake with Jax was starting to feel like some kind of interrogation.
"Who was this friend anyway?” Jax asked.
"Why do you want to know?"
"Won't he be just a little bit pissed that you've just got up and left...?" he said, starting another line of questioning.
I pushed my shake aside and got up. "Who said I was meeting a HE? Or are we back to the guy thing again?" Before he had a chance to say anything, I added, "Can you give me a ride back to my car now? I want to go home."
Reaching the door to the diner, I felt Jax grip my arm. "Hey," he said. “I didn't mean to upset you."
"So what did you mean?" I said, pulling my arm free and gripping my phone in my hand. "It felt like you were interrogating me."
Looking at me, Jax said, "What I meant was, if I was the guy who had arranged to meet you at Rowdy's tonight, I would have been pretty pissed off to discover that you had left without me.”
His comment took me off guard and I wasn't sure how to respond. I looked away. "Why?" I asked.
"Because you look good in those hot pants," he smiled.
"They're denim shorts," I said, looking at him.
"Yeah but you make them look hot," Jax grinned.
"Give me a break," I said, both of us knowing that he had made me smile again.
Chapter Nine
Jax
Wow, this British chick had serious attitude – and I liked it. I mean, she was pissing me off for a bit, but I think she was testing me, playing hard to get. And anyone who knows me knows I love that. To a point, anyway.
I tossed a twenty on the table and led her back out to the truck. I made sure to open the door for her, knowing what she expected. She had a death grip on that iPhone of hers and I wondered if she maybe had another guy she was with or talking to, the way she was so protective of it. Some people are just glued to their phone I guess.
She didn’t say anything on the drive back to Rowdy’s, and when we arrived, the parking lot was still full and I felt a bit disappointed that we hadn’t spent much time together. I got out and opened her door, and offered her a hand to help her out. Her skin felt warm and soft under my calloused mechanic’s hands and it made me smile.
Being the gentleman I was trying to prove I was, I walked her to her little blue sports car, and as we reached it, she fumbled with her keys a bit, then hit the fob to disarm its alarm. The parking lights lit up as she did so, and I noticed one of them was out.
“You’re gonna need to replace the bulb on your left front parking lamp,” I said lamely.
Oh, my God why am I talking about her stupid car?
She grinned. “I’ll keep it under advisement.”
I stepped closer to her to test the waters. She didn’t shrink back from me, but I did notice she kept looking behind me. I had noticed her doing this in Denny’s, too. I didn’t want to turn around to see what she’d been looking at. I had to pretend I didn’t care.
I licked my lips and looked down at her. “So, uh, do you think I could get your number?”
She grinned up at me. “Hand me your phone and I’ll put my number in.”
I slipped it from my jeans pocket and placed the phone into her soft hands, purposely letting mine linger on hers a little too long. She held my gaze, then eventually flicked her eyes down to my phone. She seemed to have to fumble with it a bit, as it was an Android device and not an Apple. Mina eventually figured it out, and after a few smooth keystrokes with her long, tanned fingers, she smiled triumphantly and handed it back.
I glanced down at the phone and chuckled. “Just Mina, huh? No last name?”
She
shook her head. “No… unless you know more than one Mina?”
Okay, I’ll play. “Maybe I do.”
“Well you don’t have any of their numbers in your contacts. I’m the only one,” she said playfully, biting her lip again.
Damn, I wish she’d stop doing that.
“So what is it?”
She looked confused. “What is what?”
“Your last name? Let me guess. Devonshire? Cambridge? Holmes? Cooper?”
She rolled her eyes then laughed. “I’ll never tell.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I suddenly crushed my lips to hers. They were soft and warm, and pressing my body against hers, I felt her stiffen up. I lightly ran my hands along her bare arms and I could feel goose bumps pop up at my touch and it made me smile. I lightly snaked my tongue into her mouth and then felt her wrap her arms around my neck.
I turned my head slightly to the side, intent on devouring more of her mouth, when she made a noise in the back of her throat and began to shake. I pulled away, slightly alarmed, and looked at her. She was giggling.
“What?”
Reaching up to touch her mouth, she rubbed her lips. “Your goatee tickles.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you like being tickled?”
Ignoring my remark, Mina removed her arms from around my neck, slowly running them down my chest and over my shirt. As they came to rest at her sides, she jingled her keys again and said, “I’ll be seeing you later, Jax.”
She maintained eye contact with me as she got into her car. I watched her drive off.
I walked back to my truck. Climbing in, I looked at the flashing lights of the club. It was only eleven, and I still had my hand stamp and could probably go in and party some more, but then Trent and Gabe would know I struck out.
Can’t have that…
I wasn’t much in the mood anyway, so as I drove off towards home, I thought about Mina. She was quite different from any girl I’d met. She was a good kisser, even though my goatee tickled her. I’d like to know if she was ticklish anywhere else, I smiled to myself. I could certainly listen to her talk all day long with that wicked cool accent of hers. I had so many questions to ask her, but she seemed to get defensive with most of them. I figured I’d better tread lightly. It seemed she’d been screwed over by some guy in England. I briefly wondered at this, wishing she’d have given me more detail, but decided I probably shouldn’t bring it up again, as she seemed hurt by it. We all had stuff that hurt us. I knew that all too well.