“Oh. Well that’s a relief.” I felt Nolan studying me. “What?”
“Jax’s change of . . . well, everything, doesn’t surprise you as much as I thought it would.”
I shrugged.
“Come on, Lucy. Did Jax talk to you about any of this?”
“You’d hate that, wouldn’t you? If your hero brother spilled his life plans to his demonized baby mama before confiding in you.”
“Not fair,” he said crossly. “My offers to help you out have always been shot down. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’d be happy if Jax had talked to you about this.”
“Why?”
“Because at least he was talking to someone. It’s ridiculous that he’s more of an island here than he was all the years he lived in Chicago.”
I exhaled the angry breath I’d been holding in. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve supported Jax no matter what stupid shit he’s done. I know you tried to fix him when no one else was aware he was broken. I know you tried to balance your hero-like worship of him with the harsh realities of what kind of a man he was becoming. I never envied you that, Nolan. And I don’t know if Jax fully realizes everything you’ve done for him. So while you and I haven’t always agreed, I’ve never questioned your loyalty to him and your love for Mimi. I know it hurts you to see him struggle.”
After several long moments, Nolan reached down and briefly squeezed my hand. “That might be one of the best things anyone has ever said to me, Lucy. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Then I bumped him with my shoulder. “It appears you’ll be filling your dad’s shoes after all. Good for you. Nolan Lund, CEO, sounds damn good.”
“Doesn’t it?” He grinned. “It’ll be a while before Archer is ready to retire, and I’ve got a lot to learn before that day finally comes, so I’m in no rush.”
I stayed in the background as each member of the Lund family took their turn talking to Jax. Ash and his sister Dallas spent the least amount of time chatting with him, since I suspected they too knew about this development ahead of time.
Mimi scampered off when Jax’s dad, his uncle Monte and his uncle Ward circled him. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he’d folded his arms over his chest in a defensive posture, but really . . . what could these men do? Jax had made up his mind. And I, for one, was proud of him.
Brady said, “Game’s about to start.”
Everyone scurried to their seats. Even Mimi crawled onto Grandma Edie’s lap to watch the players’ intro.
Jax looked around until he saw me. He slowly ambled over, keeping his back to the room. When he loomed over me, blocking my view, I didn’t really care. And since no one could see us, I placed my hand on his chest and felt his heart racing. I smiled up at him. “Perfect timing for your little bombshell.”
“It went better than I expected.”
“Really?”
“Fuck, Luce, I had no idea how they’d react.”
“Really? You’re a Lund. Aren’t they obligated to support you no matter what?”
He shook his head. “You remember my cousin Zosia? Her dad was my granddad’s younger brother. He hated my grandpa, hated him to the point he threatened to kill him. Jackson Lund conspired with his other brother, and they cut him out of Lund Industries completely. My great-uncle didn’t marry until way later in life, so our cousins Zosia and Zach are actually my dad and uncles’ first cousins. He left the Twin Cities with an old deed to a fishing fleet and made his living that way. I might’ve been set adrift the same way.”
“Your dad and your uncles aren’t assholes, Jax. And you’re not the only Lund not to go into the family business. Walker didn’t. Dallas hasn’t so far. And Jensen won’t have to make that decision for a while.”
Those beautiful eyes burned into me with an intensity that sent my pulse tripping.
Automatically I attempted to retreat, but Mr. Quick-Handed hooked his fingers into my belt loops, holding me in place. “Not so fast. Drives me crazy that you can say such sweet or thoughtful things to me, about me, and then figure it’s acceptable just to run off.” He tugged me closer. “Not. Happening.”
I froze.
“I miss this,” he said softly. “This ease of talking to you. Of being with you. Not just because you said nice things to me instead of nasty.”
“Jax.”
“Have you ever had anything like this with another man, Lucy? The connection, the passion, the sense that this is what everyone looks for in an intimate relationship?”
When I didn’t answer right away, a spark of fear danced in his eyes, which he replaced with that look of cool indifference that I hated.
That jarred me. Hard. My brain started picking out images of other times I’d seen that look in Jax’s eyes. How hadn’t I noticed that aloofness manifested after he’d opened up and he feared I’d go for the quick kill, the nasty remark, the easy shot at hurting him?
And after his infidelities came to light, I hadn’t had a single conversation with him without pointing it—them—out. Not that any of the blame for his cheating behavior fell on me, but I never, ever, ever let him forget how badly he’d fucked up and that I was the wronged party. Even if our discussion had nothing to do with our conflicted past, I’d find a way—or ten—to remind him that he was a cheating bastard.
Ooh, you can get in a really sharp dig right now. Tell him he’ll never find that intimacy with any woman if he continues to use his dick as a judge of depth of a woman’s character.
I opened my mouth.
Shut it.
Broke my gaze from his and glanced down at my hand still resting on his chest over his heart. “No, Jax, I haven’t had that connection since . . .” You went unsaid. “It’s easier on my heart and mind if I forget something like that even exists.”
“I can’t forget. I don’t want to forget. I dream of getting it back, knowing this time I’d treat it like the special thing it is.”
Maybe I got a little dizzy feeling his hands on me and my hand on the warmth and hardness of him. His scent, his heat . . .
“Mommy?”
Mimi worked her way between us until I stepped back, giving her room. “Yes?”
“Can we go shopping for Jocelyn’s birthday gift after we leave here?”
“Who is Jocelyn?”
“A girl from my class. I got invited to her birthday party this Saturday!”
“I planned to tell you about that,” Jax interjected, “but we got a little sidetracked.”
Understatement. We’d gone off the rails completely. I looked at our daughter. “We’ll have to shop another day after school this week since Aunt Lindsey is coming over for dinner tonight.”
She clapped. “Yay! I’ll get to show her the cheerleading routine Dallas taught me.”
My gaze met Jax’s. “She already learned a cheerleading routine today? I didn’t think I’d arrived that late.”
He grinned. “Dallas called her a little sponge. Said she noticed even at camp that Meems has natural athletic ability.”
“Guess we know where she gets that.”
Mimi lifted her arms. “Come on, Daddy. Let’s go watch the game.”
I wandered to the buffet and filled a plate. But I wasn’t alone for long; both Edie and Archer decided to eat. Coincidence? I think not.
Edie brushed her hand up my arm. “We’re so happy that you could join us today, Lucy.”
“Jax’s invite surprised me, to be honest. But now I know why he insisted on me being here.”
Archer moved in and spooned a pile of beans and weenies on his plate. “So, you had no idea he’d planned this announcement?”
“None. I guess the question is . . . did you?”
He stood in front of me. Archer Lund was a big guy, but not nearly as big as Jax. Both of his sons had inherited his striking good looks. Even at his age—what I gues
sed to be his early sixties—he was a stylish, distinguished man who commanded a room. That kind of power absolutely scared the crap out of me, especially after I’d gone to work at LI. While the CEO wasn’t my direct boss—he was still THE boss. I’d seen him in several roles: the devoted husband, the softhearted grandfather who made time for his only grandchild, the ball-busting CEO of a multi-billion-dollar family conglomerate. I’d never seen him as the flummoxed father, fishing for information on his son, as he was obviously doing now with me.
“Honestly? No. I believed his lack of enthusiasm was from getting acclimated to a different daily schedule, in a different town, with different people. I’d been prepared to give him another six months to let him settle in. I assumed . . .” His eyes moved to Nolan and Jax standing together chatting. “Seems I should’ve been listening to him, watching him more closely than just assuming. I admitted this to him, and to Nolan, so I’m not talking out of turn by admitting to you that Nolan and I have gotten into our own routine over the years, and neither of us considered what it would mean bringing Jax into it.”
I’d suspected Archer had separated me into various roles also: Jax’s former girlfriend, Mimi’s mother and LI underling. But his confession seemed a little personal for his son’s ex-girlfriend, so maybe he’d assigned me another role?
Edie slipped her arm around her husband’s waist. “Which just tells me that some part of you acknowledged that Nolan would be better suited for the job.” She smirked at me. “Literally. His tailor will be a busy man.”
I loved how perfectly Edie soothed her husband and brought humor into a situation that’d caught them off guard. I really hoped Jax understood just how lucky he was to have such supportive parents. But I still felt the need to relay a concern they hadn’t mentioned. “I spoke with Nolan a little about Jax’s plans with the bar and property he owns, because I don’t know that running a bar would be the healthiest option for him. Or for Mimi, for that matter.”
“That occurred to us too,” Edie murmured.
“Nolan believes Jax’s claim that he won’t be more than financially invested. He wants to make it a success and reap the profits.”
Archer smiled. “True Lund business acumen, right there.”
I smiled back. “Who knows? Maybe in a few years when he has more experience to bring to the table, he’ll ask to rejoin LI in some capacity.”
“I hope so.” Archer gave me a one-armed hug. “Damn, lady. You shouldn’t be toiling in PR. You should be putting your brains and common sense approach to work in HR. We could use someone like you.”
That perked me up . . . even when I had no interest in switching departments. I was just happy that the CEO saw me as an adaptable employee. If that was the new role he’d put me in? I’d take it. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely. I’d offer to nose around to see if there are openings, but I’m aware you abhor personal favors, so check into it on your time frame, if you’re interested. I can clear a path for you if you meet any resistance.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Sir. Bah. We’re beyond that.” He waved me off, took his plate and rejoined his brother Ward down in the front seats.
Edie caught me before I could escape. “I’m not wrong in believing that you and Jax are getting along better these days?”
“We are. It’s easier now that he lives here. Now that he’s retired the Jaxson ‘Stonewall’ Lund persona.”
“I agree. And unlike Archer, I have no problem talking out of turn.”
My belly did a little flip.
Her eyes, identical to Jax’s, searched mine. “Something to keep in mind, sweetheart. You’re the only woman Jaxson ever brought home to meet the family. You’re the only woman he ever lived with. You’re the only woman he’s ever let see the real him beneath that hockey mask. I’ll never condone his actions with you—any of them—but people do change. It’d be sad if they didn’t. It’s sadder yet to go through life believing no one can ever change. There are no absolutes . . . except change is inevitable.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek, then walked away, leaving me with a whiff of her jasmine perfume and a boatload of questions.
Since everyone was watching the game, I settled in the back of the suite, picking at my food, letting my mind return to the time I did believe in absolutes, and how Jax had reacted when I shared mine with him . . .
* * *
• • •
Jax greeted me with a kiss on the cheek for our fourth date.
A lingering kiss where the soft brush of his longish hair tickled my face and I got a lungful of his enticing scent.
“Thanks for meeting me here, but I would’ve rather picked you up.”
I pointed at the restaurant sign boasting fresh baked goods. “You chose Perkins, a pancake and bakery restaurant, for our date. There’s no way I want you to see me shoveling in breakfast food and then witness me ordering half a dozen muffins to go after the meal. Driving separately means I can sneak back and load up on baked goods after you’ve driven off.”
“Sneaky.” He kissed me softly. “But what if I have plans after we finish eating?”
I shrugged. “You’ll still have to drop me off here when we’re done.” Because I’m not going home with you tonight went unstated, but his expression said he’d heard my message loud and clear.
Placing his hand in the small of my back, he directed me toward the entrance. “What’s your favorite kind of muffin?” His lips touched the top of my ear. “And saying, ‘A stud muffin like you, baby,’ won’t offend me.”
“Dream on.”
Since it was only late afternoon, we scored a window booth seat. A few members of the senior set were the only other patrons. I’d been surprised when Jax had suggested this place since it catered to families during the day and the bar rush crowd late at night . . . until I remembered he’d mentioned his love of breakfast for dinner during one of our epic text conversations the past week.
The waitress appeared. “What can I get you to drink?”
Jax and I said, “Coffee,” simultaneously.
He ordered the Perkins famous “magnificent seven” breakfast—two eggs, two pieces of bacon and three pancakes—and I opted for a waffle, bacon and hash browns.
I stirred two packets of sweetener and one creamer into my coffee. “What’s on the agenda tonight, stud muffin?”
Laughing, he picked up my hand and threaded our fingers together. “Just your average date. Food. Conversation. Groping under the table.”
That’s when I felt his other hand on my knee.
His faked innocent look cracked me up. But I managed to keep a straight face. “In your delusional dating timeline, the first date we talked, the second date we held hands and hugged, the third date we kissed, so the fourth date jumps to us touching each other’s naughty bits?”
“Only if the mood strikes you to—”
“Stroke you?”
Jax squeezed my knee. “You’re sassier than usual tonight.”
“You bring out the best in me.”
“I think you meant to say I bring out the beast in you, baby.”
I laughed.
“God. You are even more beautiful when you laugh.”
“Slathering on the flattery? You really want to get to third base tonight, don’t you?”
“I’m just happy to be here with you. It’s been a long week.”
The ghost tour was the last time we’d been together, although we’d been texting like crazy. “Your out-of-town trip was successful?” He hadn’t told me where he was going, and I hadn’t asked.
“I guess. It seemed like a waste of time and something that could’ve been handled over the phone.”
That’s when I pounced. “Level with me, Jax. You’re some kind of investment banker.” I still had no clue what he did to earn a living. It’d become more of a joke between us,
but in some ways, I liked that I didn’t know, because I’d gotten to know Jaxson in a different way than I had other men. We talked about everything but how we spent our workdays.
“An investment banker? Seriously? Do I look like I’ve got a stick up my ass?”
I opened my mouth and he stopped me before I gave him an honest answer.
“Try again.” He shrugged. “Or don’t. Because you’re not gonna guess right.”
“Then I give. No, wait. You’re a commodities broker.”
He blinked at me. “Lucy Q, I don’t even know what the hell that is.”
“Me neither, but it sounds rich and fancy. That type of job would totally explain the car you drive. Maybe I’ll call you Mr. Rich and Fancy until you get annoyed and confess to being a car salesman, just to shut me up.”
He snorted. “Not a car salesman either.”
“Yeah, you smell too expensive to be hawking cars—even luxury models.”
Another slow, sexy blink from those arresting eyes made my heart race. “How does one smell expensive?”
“Your cologne is a custom blend, isn’t it?”
Surprisingly he nodded.
“I knew it! I’ve never smelled anything like it. Wearing a custom blend signals your need for exclusivity, which equals you’ve got the ka-ching to afford that privilege.”
“You’ve sniffed a lot of guys, have you?”
I tapped my nose and then his. “Careful, Mr. Rich and Fancy, or I might suspect you’re jealous that my nose has been in a lot of different guys’—”
“No need to finish that sentence,” he supplied.
I Want You Back Page 9
