by Selena Scott
She straightened out the collar of his sweatshirt and scowled at his neck. “Your receptionist mentioned other women who have come to see you at the clinic. And I just… I don’t know. I wanted us to be on the same page about exactly what’s happening here.”
“You were jealous,” he said in amazement.
She frowned and didn’t answer.
He dipped his knees so that she’d have to look him in the eye. She narrowed her eyes and frowned at him.
“You were,” he repeated, still amazed that she was possibly caring this much.
She shrugged. “Whatever. Like you’ve never been jealous of something that had to do with me?”
“Kaya, I’m currently jealous of your freaking sweater. Jealousy is a way of life for me when it comes to you.”
She cracked a smile. “So, who is she?”
“Who?”
“The supposedly pretty woman who visits you at work.”
Jackson screwed up his face and looked into the distance, genuinely trying to figure out who she might be talking about. “Gabriel said a woman visited me at wo—Oh! I remember now. A couple of years ago I… spent the night with a woman down in Denver but I accidentally left my cell phone charger at her house. She dropped it off, like, a week later when she was up in Boulder for business. That was the last time I ever saw her. We didn’t even exchange contact information.”
He looked back at Kaya’s expression and couldn’t even begin to interpret the myriad emotions that played across her features. Jealousy, sure. But also a sort of pleased expression. Fear, anticipation, trepidation, nerves, confidence. All of it was there for him to see.
“Jackson?” she whispered, leaning her weight into him and playing with the strings of his sweatshirt.
“Yeah?”
“You know I’ve never done that before, right?” She cleared her throat. “I’ve never slept with anybody.”
Hot and cold infused his body at once, even though this wasn’t news to him. “I know,” he said softly, stroking a hand over her hair.
He’d never forget the moment, two years ago, that he’d walked in on Kaya proclaiming to Sarah and Natalie that she was still a virgin. Before that, he’d sort of hoped, in a tortured way, that she’d had some high school or college experience. At the time, he’d assumed it would save his sanity to know that while she was incredibly off-limits to him, there were men that she was fair game for. He’d thought it would help him deepen that line in the sand that was so important to him. He’d even had the crazy thought that things might be easier for him if she brought a man around.
But then he’d discovered that she was a virgin, that she wasn’t interested in dating, and he’d known he was truly screwed once and for all. Because suddenly it was like he’d been wearing glasses that were intentionally foggy where she was concerned. He’d never let himself look very closely into her personal life. But now he had all of this crystal-clear information and he couldn’t forget it. He’d paid attention after that. As much as it had pained him, he kept his ears perked up for news of a boyfriend or dates. He’d paid attention to her in a way that his exhausted heart could barely afford.
Her face screwed up into a look that was somewhere between stubbornness and chagrin. “It’s not that weird, you know. Twenty-five isn’t ridiculously old to—”
He cut her off with a soft kiss to her lips that he couldn’t talk himself out of giving her. “I never said it was weird. Honestly, I think it is perfectly you. You always do everything at your own pace.”
For the first time since she’d entered his house, her expression softened. And it hit Jackson why. She’d been jealous of the other woman and she’d been self-conscious of her lack of experience. And now that he’d soothed her about both of those things, she was starting to melt toward him. She tied his sweatshirt strings in a big bow and then pulled them free.
“You were very cute today. In your office. With that puppy.”
He held in his smile. “Occupational hazard. The cuteness of the animals reflects well on me.”
She pursed her lips. “That wasn’t it. You were sweet with the puppy, sure. But also with the man. I just liked seeing you at work.”
Thinking of his work made him think of everything else that had happened to him that day and a wave of dread rolled through him. He knew it was going to be the hardest thing he ever had to do—
All thoughts were quickly wiped from his head when she went up on her toes and opened her mouth against his. Reason was immediately erased, along with his grip on reality. All there was, was the warm silk of her mouth. The flavor of her tongue. Her warm hands on the sides of his face. This kiss was different from all the others. There was a familiarity there, a comfort, because they’d done it before, but he could also taste the sharpness of all the emotions she’d come in here with. They were fading, but still present. He was suddenly overcome with the need to wipe them all free for her. He didn’t want her jealous or self-conscious. He wanted her satisfied and confident and completely clear on the fact that when it came to women, she was completely it for him.
He let his hands slide down her back, over her backside, and down to her thighs. He picked her up and turned them around so that she rested on the counter, her legs around his waist. Her arms had clamped themselves around his neck in the process so when he breathed it was into her and when she breathed it was into him. His head tilted and so did hers.
His heart beat like a bird trying to free itself from his chest. He put his weight, his energy, all his focus into this kiss. Somehow his hands ended up on the bare skin of her back, her heat scalding him, beckoning him, punishing and rewarding at the same time.
He tore his mouth from hers and kissed his way down her neck. He bit at her pulse point, sucked at the hollow under her ear. The weight of her head fell into his hand and he knew she was completely boneless against him. She was losing the battle to stay on this plane of existence just as much as he was. He was drunk on the weight of her in his arms.
He bit at her skin again, soothing the hurt with his tongue. She buried her face in his shoulder.
“Jackson,” she moaned, the heat of her breath making goosebumps rise up all over him. She’d never moaned his name before and it damn near killed him to hear it. He gripped her even tighter, tilted her head back further, took her mouth in a kiss so deep it was almost obscene. He took from every corner of her mouth, their teeth clacking as he groaned into her mouth.
The doorbell rang. The food had arrived.
“Fuck,” he growled, balancing his forehead against hers and breathing very hard. He finally wrenched his eyes open to see her looking at him in complete and utter bemusement. Her eyes were wide and blurry, her lips kissed to perfection, her color high, her hair even messier than usual, the collar of her sweater pulled to one side.
He could have died right there, a happy man.
The doorbell rang again and this time his cell phone started to vibrate in his pocket. The delivery guy was obviously eager to drop this food off.
It wasn’t until Jackson stepped back from Kaya that he even realized how tightly they’d been clinging to one another. He felt like he’d just peeled off his own skin and now there was no boundary to his body. Stepping away from her, he felt as if he could just float off into nothing. She wobbled a little on the counter and he helped her hop down, steadying her.
“Choose something to watch,” he told her, brushing a piece of hair back behind her ear. “I’ll get the food.”
But apparently, she didn’t follow directions well. Because as soon as Jackson swung open the door to get the food, her arms snaked around him, her front pressed into his back, as if she didn’t want to separate herself from him for even as long as it took for him to retrieve the food.
The delivery guy’s eyes took in their show of affection with a rather bored pair of young eyes, counting out Jackson’s cash after he handed it over. But the kid’s expression became a lot more interested when Kaya actually peeked around from beh
ind Jackson.
Jackson had to fight the urge to push her head back behind him, shielding her from the gaze of the horny delivery kid. “Have a nice night,” Jackson said, closing the door in his face and dragging Kaya to the couch in the living room. Still she showed signs of wanting to stay right there next to him, so he sat her down, figuring she must have been as dazed from that kiss as he was. “Stay here. I’ll get drinks. Anything you want in particular?”
“Wanna share a beer?” she asked absently as she started digging through the takeout bag. “And grab some napkins?”
Something tugged in his chest. “Sure.”
And so it was just a minute later, when Jackson came back with one beer for both of them and extra napkins, that he realized just how much of a fucking dumbass he’d been for the last few hours.
He stood there, wordless, and just looked at Kaya. She’d unpacked the bag, setting out all four of the sandwiches on the coffee table. She’d wrapped herself in one of the afghans he never used and set out two of his couch pillows for them to use as a makeshift tabletop while they ate. She’d flicked on the lamp next to her and was surfing the menu for something good to watch.
“Ooh! Indiana Jones. But we’d have to just jump in in the middle. Sound good?”
“Yeah,” he said quietly, realizing just how much of a goner he really was. Because it wasn’t just the mind-numbing kiss that had utterly wrecked him. It was having her in his space, ruining his living room for all time. If he were to kick her out of his life, he’d have to move now. He could never live in a house where she’d curled up like a shrimp on his couch.
What an idiot he’d been.
He realized, all at once, that he’d been very close to making the same mistake he’d been making for years.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Something was off with Jackson and Kaya couldn’t tell if it was because he was feeling as royally off-kilter as she was. There had been something new in that kiss in the kitchen. Something that hadn’t been present in any of their other times of intimacy. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but it was majorly freaking her out.
She wolfed down her sandwich, half the fries, all her salad, and then most of her bowl of chocolate ice cream that Jackson had gotten up to get for her.
When she finally set it aside and looked up, he was blinking at her. “You can really eat.”
“You knew that already,” she said, shifting so that her feet went up under her, hidden from view.
He was sitting in the corner of the couch, reclined partway back, one of his elbows up on the arm of the couch and his hand buried in his own wavy hair. She was sitting in his space, almost touching him, having scooted over to be closer when he got up to get the ice cream. He hadn’t seemed inclined to complain about it when he’d gotten back to see it, but now the credits were rolling on the movie and he still hadn’t made a move on her and her confidence was faltering.
“I’ve never had a front row seat before.” He turned his head into his hand and scrubbed over his eyebrows. “God, why is everything you do so fucking charming to me? Seriously, I could watch you do your taxes and be into it.”
Kaya couldn’t help but preen into the compliment like a bird warming her feathers in the sun. But still, she paused over the conflict in his eyes. He’d sat far away at dinner, shifting position a lot, sighing, barely paying attention to the movie. She’d known he was nervous. He looked like a man at war with himself.
“Jackson,” she reached out and took his free hand between both of hers. His hand went so fast, so willingly, that again, she couldn’t help but relish the compliment of it. She could sense, on every level, how badly he wanted her. She studied the back of his hand for a second, the slightly cracked knuckles, the wide, clean fingers. Then she flipped his hand over and traced one of the lines. He visibly shivered. Then, and only then, did she let her eyes trace up to his. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
He dropped his eyes to her fingers tracing pictures on his palm. He looked almost pained. “I’m about to do something that I really don’t want to do.”
Her stomach dropped and her hands stilled. “What’s that?”
He let out a long breath and then moved his body around to face her, one of his knees drawn up onto the couch. He was careful not to remove his hand from hers. “I’m going to tell you the truth about something.”
“How come you don’t want to tell me?”
“Because I’ve spent years practicing keeping secrets from the ones I love. Always telling myself that it’s what’s best for them. But I promised you I wouldn’t do that anymore. That I would at least try to grow. So, here I am. About to tell you the truth when my nature is telling me to kick you out of the house for your own good.”
On instinct, she huddled closer to him. She didn’t want to be kicked out of the house and she naturally wanted to make this whole thing easier for Jackson. She sensed immediately that her closeness was both making things easier and harder on him.
He closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the couch.
“Why don’t you start from the beginning,” she suggested.
He nodded, his eyes still closed. “Ben Woodrow came in today.”
“The officer that Gabriel mentioned?”
“Yeah. He’s the one who responded to the scene last year.”
“You mean when Natalie and Race…”
“Yeah. He’s been coming to see me for a year.”
Little by little Jackson unloaded the story onto Kaya. At first, she was swept away by the shock of it all. For years, the Durants were the only shifters she’d ever thought she’d know about. To know that there were others out there and they were interacting with Jackson, well, it was a huge surprise. But little by little, the shock wore off and she became aware of a different feeling, a realization. As Jackson tugged on his own hair and sighed and told her the story, she realized that he was straight up confiding in her. This wasn’t just getting something off his chest. He was processing. With her.
She was freaking elated. Dizzyingly so. Terrifyingly so. She’d been telling herself for a while now that maybe Jackson couldn’t change. The kissing thing would be fun while it lasted, but it would never go further than that. Now, though, sitting here, listening to him work this shit out with her, she was acutely aware that she ran the risk of having serious feelings for this man.
His torn expression tugged at her heart as he finished his story.
She looked back and forth between his dark eyes. “Jackson, are you… are you considering going back?”
Slowly, very slowly, he nodded. “I am.”
“Wow. You’d be, like, their personal veterinarian?”
He let out a long sigh. “I’m the closest thing most of them will ever have to medical care. If a shifter has any sort of serious injury, they’re often reported to the police in emergency rooms. It’s too risky to go. They’d rather die from infection than be outted to the feds. But with me, they wouldn’t have to worry about that.”
“Wow. Holy smokes.” She pulled her blanket-covered knees up to her chin and stared off into the distance. “You’re going to actually be able to interact with other shifters. Hear their stories, help them live healthier, more fulfilling lives.” Her eyes filled. “Jackson, you’re going to be able to actually help shifter-kind in a substantial way.”
“I know,” he said gruffly.
She still stared off into the distance, her thoughts racing. “I’ll bet so many of them will have been through rough times. I’m sure they haven’t been eating well. Do you think any of them would benefit from talking to a nutritionist? I mean, caring about nutrition is probably a luxury if you’re running from the government. But still, you never know. Oh! You know what? I was just reading about this food waste prevention program that allows people to pick up leftovers from restaurants in the area that the restaurants aren’t technically allowed to serve anymore. They haven’t gone bad or anything. Most people drive them to shelters to help feed homeless
populations, but do you think Ben and Shelly have enough food for all the shifters they’re housing? Because if they’re paying for all that out of pocket, it could get very expensive. This might be a great way of easing the burden a little bit. I could definitely do that at least twice a week.”
She looked up at him when he placed one finger over her lips, drawing her chin over so that she had to look at him again. His voice was low and gruff when he spoke. “Are you saying that you want to help? Be involved in this?”
She blinked at him for a minute and then shook his hand away. “Jackson, most of the people I love the most on this earth are shifters and all I can do is watch as the world treats you all like shit. Of course I want to help.”
“But Kaya, if you were caught, God forbid, who even knows what kind of charges they could bring against you for knowing and not notifying the police? I mean, we could be talking serious jail time.”
He looked so truly destroyed by the idea of anything bad happening to her, Kaya’s breath momentarily stalled in her chest. “I run the risk of serious jail time just by eating Sunday dinners at your mother’s house. Just by being friends with Seth and Raph and Bauer. I risk serious jail time by making out with you in your kitchen or snuggling up to you on this couch. And none of those things are actually good for mankind. This is something worthwhile. This is something that could actually help people. If Ben and Shelly don’t need help with food then we’ll find some other way for me to help out.”
Jackson shocked her by suddenly leaning forward and dropping his head down, scraping a hand over the back of his head. “Fuck. I am such a fucking idiot.”
“What? Why?” She tugged on him. The vehemence in his voice freaked her out a little bit.
He looked up at her, his expression just wrecked. “You were totally and completely right, Kaya. All this time I’ve been doing what I thought was best. I thought I was keeping you safe by treating you terribly and completely robbing you of your ability to choose what it was that you wanted. I just made the decision for you. Without even pausing to think about what your choice would really have been. And made myself, and probably you, totally miserable in the process. I am such an idiot.”