by Kerri Ann
His endearing smile lights up the room. “So what brings you back, Whiskey?”
“I found this lovely lady in the elevator when I was heading out for a coffee. You’d spin back, too.” Looking over my shoulder, looking all imposing, Jamieson gives me a soft smile. “How about you girls blow this popsicle stand and get some air? It’s high time we had guy time without your meddling.”
And that’s the cue. “Come on, woman. They need a dick swinging moment. All that brotherly grunting and farting while we get sunshine.”
The look on Circe’s face suggests she’s more than happy to leave for a bit of air. Stepping to the side of her bed, I grab up one of the two wheelchairs and push it to the side, locking the wheels.
“Mind grabbing a sweater for me from the cupboard? The rest of the hospital is cold,” Circe asks.
Nodding, I grab a sweater from the closet while Circe takes a seat on the edge of the bed.
Slipping on her sweater, I help her into the chair and we start for the door. “Take your time, girls. We boys will be just fine watching porn and eating pork rinds.”
“I’m sure you’ll be itching to hear all the juicy stories about the sexy orderlies we abuse on the way through,” Circe deadpans.
“Be good, Siren.”
“Wyatt, there’s no use in attempting to be a good girl now.”
As I pull the door open, I back out with Circe. The looks from both the Crown men speaks volumes. One I hope to turn down a notch or two.
CARLI
I’ve told Circe as much as I can, but only enough that I don’t feel like I’ve lied to my best friend. We’re sitting in the chapel, just around the corner from their room in the quiet space, alone. I ran down the story of my sisters, my father, the family, and the obligations I despise.
I’m expecting scathing unhappiness, attitude full of epic ‘fuck yous.’ At least that she’s pissed I kept it to myself. But so far, nothing. She listened without a word—no criticism, and not an ounce of disappointment crossed her face. And bit by bit, as I told her the story, I expected her to shout, or rail at the injustice of keeping her out of the loop. Then I half expected she’d rise out of her wheelchair and kick my ass. But again, she didn’t. And this is why I love my girl. No judgement.
“So let me get this straight…” She pauses, straight-faced and serious. I stay quiet and wait on her to finish her thought, which seems to take forever. “We didn’t have to eat boxed pasta?”
I giggle, surprised that’s all that matters to her. “That’s all you got out of my confession?”
“It’s important to categorize your priorities, Car. Salads, ice cream, expensive beers. Not once did I have boxed garbage in that list, but it made it to the top ten way too often.”
True. It did.
“Well, I guess it goes like this. I always knew you had secrets and I had mine. You didn’t bug me for mine, and I’m not about to bug you for yours, even if I think you’ve yet to tell me the whole story.” Opening my mouth to defend myself, she cuts me off. “Look, Car, I know you’re not giving me all of it, and I know you well enough to know that you’re trying to keep me safe. So how about you tell me what’s going on with you and Whiskey instead?”
“What?”
“Please. Like I don’t see what’s going on.” Laughing deep, she coughs as her still damaged body hitches to grab air. Once she composes herself, she continues. “Do you think I’m blind, woman?”
“Nothing is going on. I saw him in the elevator on the way up.”
She squints her eyes at me. “Right. And my racer means nothing to me.”
“Circe—”
“Look. Yeah, I get it, Carli. He’s sexy, broody, growly, grouchy, systemically the epitome of man candy from top to bottom. Fuck, Crown men only seem to come one way—addictive. Your life is a train wreck and it isn’t awesome, but just do me a favor and don’t lie to me about him. Even the way he looks at you, I’ve seen it before. I’ve been on the receiving end.”
“You do get it, I guess.”
“Then don’t lie to me. What’s going on?” Dog on a bone. She won’t relent until I give her something. Freaking best friend.
I think about it before I answer her. Is something going on? Am I lying when I say nothing is? No, I’m not. “Nothing is happening with Jamieson and I. He’s everything you said, but we’re not a thing.”
“Then why do you call him Jamieson?” She smirks knowingly. She’s got me.
I waffle on the idea of him being something, but being around us both all the time, I guess she sees what’s going on. “Yeah. He’s sexy, he’s dangerously gorgeous, and he makes me need Jai, but we’re not looking for love.”
Grinning from ear to ear, Circe scratches the skin under her casted arm. “Carli, I want you happy. And if he makes you run for Jai, that’s impressive in my books.” She touches my arm, her face serious. “No one said love was in the works. It’s easy to see you two have a connection.”
I don’t answer her because I don’t need to. She’s made her point.
“So?” I ask.
“It’s entirely up to you. You sound like family obligations are about to take you home, and I can’t join you there. If Jamieson is important, even a smidge, tell him you’ll be away. He’s a Crown. That stubborn bastard won’t let you out of this hospital without knowing why you’re a mess.” As I’m about to interject that I’m not, Circe holds up her hand, halting me. “Look, he’s gonna track you down somehow, trust me on that. Now, lover, I’m tired, and I want to curl up with my racer.”
Rising off the bench, I push her toward the exit as I muse quietly about what she’s said. It’s funny. I pushed her into the arms of Wyatt. Bumbling around after the interview all that time ago, Circe was the woman using a pink pocket rocket to get off with. Now our conversations about her and the wild racer’s sex life have actually had me trying out new things myself. I didn’t know men like him existed, other than in books. The way Jamieson crowds me, how he grips my hair like a harness, I see that they both seem to have the dark, dangerous sex down pat. I’m not afraid of him, I just don’t think he needs my baggage. He’s carrying enough for a month-long trip without my fucked up shit.
JAMIESON
“You talked to Doll?” Wyatt asks me.
“Not in a few days. Not since the house arrest started. You?” It’s been a wild few days.
China has been locked in the mansion. She has the full run of the house, Cassidy and Ciccero to cater to her every need, and a cop to keep her safe. At least he might have a better chance than most to keep her out of the media. It’s only been a few days, and I’m sure her antics will occur at some point. Disaster follows that girl. She’s got weeks of incarceration to go, eight to be exact, and Risen Mason has his work cut out for him.
“Yeah. I talked to her when Risen arrived. She’s a lucky fuckin’ kid. You or I would have been in Lompoc. Doll ends up under house arrest and doesn’t lose her license or the right to ride professionally.”
Raising his casted arm, I know what he’s thinking. No races for Wyatt. We haven’t talked about it, but it’s pretty obvious that he’s done professionally. I’ve seen the X-rays, and if he can hold a throttle, it’ll be a miracle.
We always avoid that particular mess, riding around it with conversations about China and the girls instead. And when I say girls, I mean just that. Circe is terrific to him, for him, and it’s made his recovery better than I could have imagined.
Then there’s Carli.
What can I say about her? There’s something about her that I can’t shake. Her sass and sarcasm ignites me. Every time she’s in my space, I want to strip her bare and punish every inch of her. I want to carry her caveman like, proving she’ll never find someone else that can make her melt like I do.
Minutes later, as the girls wheel back in, Circe beams at seeing my brother. Helping her back to the bed, Carli chews on her lip. The wheels are spinning at a high rate in that mind of hers.
Breaking the
quiet, Circe says, “The room doesn’t smell so bad. I guess you couldn’t get pork rinds on short notice?”
“Potpourri. It’s amazing what you can do with flowery shit,” Wyatt chirps off, grinning. It’s nice to see that coming from my brother. Wyatt has always been ‘off.’ Circe turns him into a different guy altogether, and I’m so glad for that. I’m glad he’s happy.
Turning my attention to Carli, I see her wheel Circe to the edge of the bed. Watching her help her friend in, I find something strangely stoic about her. She’s not said a word, not even taking a moment to play with Wyatt and his sarcasm. If there’s one thing I’ve noticed about Carli, she loves to banter.
I try to get a rise out of her. “No orderlies to molest out there, Carli?”
“No.”
Wow. Worse than I imagined. She’s not even playing with me. Looking at Circe, she raises her eyebrow at me. Yeah, even I understand that look. ‘You need to talk,’ it says.
“Carli, you hungry?” I ask. “I think these two need some rest.”
Finishing tucking her friend back in, she pushes the wheelchair aside, trying to delay the inevitable, ignoring me. Grittier this time, I say, “Carli.”
Snapping her head up at my tone, her eyes speak volumes. “Yeah, I could go for lunch.”
I turn to my brother. “I’ll check on you two in a bit. Do you want me to bring anything from the house?” I hadn’t planned on popping over there, but if he needs something I’ll grab it. Plus, it’s a good excuse to check in on Doll.
“Nah. But I could do with pork rinds now that—”
Smacking him on the shoulder, Circe cuts in. “You’re not eating that! I have to sleep in the same room, Wyatt Crown.”
“Woman, you are not stopping me from eating bad food. This body has been a temple for far too long. I want to make it an amusement park for a bit.”
“Oh, it’s an amusement park, Wyatt.” Giggling, Circe tries to hide her blush.
Fuck me. “That’s my cue. Come on, Carli. I don’t think either of us need to see his rollercoaster.”
Stepping to the door, holding it open, I patiently wait for Carli to say her goodbyes. For some reason, it seems final, and I intend to find out why.
CARLI
Giving Circe a quick hug, I almost cried. I’ll miss her so much. She’s been a part of my life when I needed her the most. I hate losing her. Then, when she whispered into my shoulder for me to tell him, it put things into perspective. Fucking friends!
Where do I start? And why? What can I tell Jamieson to get him off my back so I can leave without drama?
Fuck.
Shit.
Man, I’m cursing a lot.
Walking out of the room, leaving Circe and Wyatt, I said nothing more to Jamieson. Standing beside him at the lift, waiting for the elevator to open, I’ve thought about what to say.
“Hey, I have to leave. You won’t see me again, probably ever, and I’m doing it to save my sisters the pain of marrying some haggard old men that will turn them into geisha concubines.”
I wonder why it matters so much that I’m even considering telling him anything? A few chance meetings, and a driving need to ride his rollercoaster does not constitute a conversation about my past, present, or future.
As the doors open and we enter. Once Wyatt and China’s lives are back to normal, he’ll be back at his hills, whoring out his cock to the masses, and I’ll be in Japan, far, far away.
As the elevator ticks down floor by floor, slowly counting down the minutes like hours, gives me more time to war with myself.
Shifting forward, hitting the button on the wall, the emergency siren rings out. Taking a deep breath before speaking, I blurt out, “Jamieson, I’m leaving.”
Confused, his eyes narrow. “The governor needs you full-time now?”
He thinks I mean Chris. “No, not Chris. I quit his employ. I was just coming to say goodbye to Circe. I’m leaving the US.”
“What’s going on, Carli? Tell me what’s happening. Maybe I can help you?” he growls out, staring at me like a petulant child. I know it’s out of care and worry, not because he’s pissed.
“Yeah, not on this one, big boy.”
“Carli, look—”
Touching the edge of his face, I caress his chin. “This isn’t something you can do for me. Trust me, I’ve tried to avoid it for years. This isn’t a job for the burly snowboarder. Your Crown money can’t fix it. I have to do it. I hate it immensely. Actually, I despise it, but no one but me can do it. I have others that are depending on me. You know what it’s like when family calls, you drop it all.” God, I hate this. “Whiskey, you’ll be back on your hills in no time. You’ll forget about me in the time it takes to get off on a blowjob.”
“I doubt that, Katana.” Turning so that we’re now face to face, he grasps my ponytail. He’s testing my resolve. I was going to leave, erasing the thoughts of him and his growly voice, his towering size...his everything from my mind, because nothing in Japan could possibly compare to Jamieson Crown. He’s going to make it absolutely impossible to compare anything to him.
With barely a whisper, I look up into his sweet, chocolate eyes. “I have to go. I don’t have a choice.”
“You’re not telling me much, Carli, but it’s easy to see you’re afraid to go.”
“Yes.” Am I ever.
“Tell me what’s going on. Let me in.” With his body pressed against mine, his dark, sultry eyes pinned on my teary ones, I want to, but I can’t.
“I’m afraid to do it alone. I’m afraid in general. But to involve you is unfair. Respect my decision, please.” He has enough going on with his own family.
“Carli,” he says on a whisper.
But before I let his heat and magnetism get to me, I back away. “I’m afraid, yeah. I can’t even fathom how much my life is going to change and…” Clawing at my shirt, I shout, “I hate every second of it, but my sisters can’t be left alone with this. It’s not fair to them either.”
Hitting the emergency button hard, Jamieson turns back to me while the carriage descends, then kisses me softly on my forehead. “We’re going to get lunch, Carli. You’re going to tell me what’s going on and I’ll listen. I’m a good listener. Promise me you’ll give me the benefit of the doubt?”
“You haven’t listened yet, Crown.”
“You haven’t told me anything yet, Katana. Until you give in, I’ll keep it up.”
Shit.
CARLI
“It’s my turn to choose where we eat,” Jamieson growls out as the doors open.
“And if you want me to come with you, there’ll be more than dead animal available, Crown.”
“Fine.” He smirks and wraps his arm around my shoulders, tucking me into his side. It’s warm, inviting, and I like it more than I should.
“I’ll make sure there’s at least one vegetable.” Pulling out his phone, tapping away one handed, we direct ourselves toward the carpark.
“I’m gonna need to be drunk to get through this, Jamieson.”
Laughing, his chest shifts against me. It’s nice. “I didn’t think you knew how to laugh.”
“Not been much to laugh about, but you make me lighter than most.”
Can’t disagree. There haven’t been many chances to laugh when there’s more funerals than fun. Approaching his SUV and unlocking the doors, I notice a lovely scrape across the back bumper. Hopping in the passenger’s seat and belting myself in, I’m itching to rib him for it. The need explodes from me. “Why don’t you race cars?”
Starting the overheated car, he cranks the air conditioning. “What?”
“Why don’t you race bikes or cars like the rest of the family?” Looking more confused, I decide to save him the brain embolism. “By the shape of your bumper, you have the rub’n is racin’ bug.”
“Har, har, Carli. Not my driving skills. Someone else scarred the rental. I drive quite well.” He grips the shifter and smiles. I know his intention wasn’t to express his car
skills, it’s about his other skills.
Leaving the US. Leaving the US, I recite to myself. Shit. Leaving before I find out his skills will be a travesty. Honestly, how are little Japanese men supposed to even compare to a man like Jamieson Crown? Yep. It’ll be hard, long, dangerous, and definitely worth the memory. Jamieson freakin’ Crown. Even saying it makes me want to memorize his features for future Jai escapades.
Looking at him as he drives down the road to whatever place he’s chosen, I catalogue him. Today he’s wearing a short black T-shirt. The cuffs are slightly rolled up, showing off his colorful tattoos that flex as he steers, bending and blending like waves in the ocean. Small nicks dot the surface of his arm, his neck, and through his rough stubble in varying degrees of repair. Some are at least decades old, where others are as recent as months ago. The thicker beard and mustache around his mouth is trimmed, lush, and soft. I’ve wanted to feel that bush between my legs, to chafe the skin so I remember it indefinitely. Even thinking on it, goosebumps rise and my core squeezes.
Rubbing my arm to remove the evidence of how he affects me, Jamieson asks sweetly, smiling that enigmatic grin. “Is the AC too low? Are you cold?”
Ha-ha. “No, not at all. I had a chill is all. I’m fine, thanks.”
Checking his phone as a text comes in, Jamieson smiles. I love how the corners of his mouth turn up when he grins. It’s scrumptious.
“What?” I ask. “Did the restaurant have a fresh kill they’re gutting?”
“No. I just made sure you’ll have things to choose from. We’re good.” He’s sweet and gleeful, thinking he’s found something I’ll be happy with. How nice is it that he thought to call ahead?
I could find myself...
No, Carli.
Shake it off. You can’t fall for Crown because he does sweet things like making sure there’s something for you to eat. Because he’s adorably gorgeous in a rough, rugged way. You can’t fall for Jamieson. There’s no way around it, you have to leave. He’s what would keep you here and your sisters in trouble. They don’t deserve awful, old, ugly Japanese trouble. I’m the only one who can save them that fate. No one else will worry about them, no one else will make sure they’re not turned into slaves.