I Want You Back

by Lorelei James

  The emotions in her eyes mirrored mine.

  Thank god.

  Before I left the haven of her body, I took a little detour to her chest, kissing and licking and teasing until she squirmed and arched beneath me.

  “Jax, I—”

  “I know whatcha need, baby.” I eased out of her and said, “Hang on.” Then I plucked her up and carried her into our bedroom, where I made good on my promise that the second time would be slower and sweeter.

  * * *

  • • •

  Yawning, after we thoroughly exhausted each other, I stretched out and pressed the side of my face into the pillow. I was too damn comfortable to even reach down and pull the covers over my naked body.

  I’d half drifted off when the mattress dipped.

  Lucy curled up next to me, resting her cheek on my shoulder blade and throwing her leg over the back of mine, pulling the covers over both of us, just like she used to do.

  Her contented sigh echoed mine.

  I just wanted to bask in the aftermath of two mind-scrambling orgasms, and by bask I meant . . . fall into a coma and sleep.

  I’d reached that almost dreaming state when her soft voice tickled my ear.

  “I’m so glad you told me everything, Jax, and there are no more secrets between us.”

  “Mmm.” My brain sort of went back online, and I mumbled, “That’s not true. I have another secret.”

  “You do?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “What is it?”

  “I bought the ice rink.”

  Twenty-one

  LUCY

  You what?”

  Jax had to be kidding.

  I heard him snore. What the hell? He couldn’t just drop this into pillow talk and then nod off.

  Maybe he was half dreaming when he said that.

  I sat up, yanked the bedding away—momentarily distracted by his amazing ass—and poked him in the ribs. Twice.

  “Luce, I’m tired.”

  “So am I. But I will keep poking you. Tell me you’re joking.”

  He turned his head and looked at me sleepily. “No joke. Can we talk about this in the morning?”

  “Nope. Now.”

  A weary sigh escaped him and he rolled to his back.

  “How did you end up buying Lakeside?”

  Jax groaned and said, “Because that Agnes is a pushy old broad who’s been wheeling and dealing her whole life and she suckered me in,” with what sounded like affection. “We had an appointment with her at her mansion in St. Paul.”

  We . . . meaning him and Gabi.

  “We get there and Agnes has this elaborate high tea planned, served in her fancy-ass dining room, on china that belonged to Napoleon or something.”

  I snickered.

  “What?”

  “I’m trying to imagine two ham-handed hockey players lifting their pinkies as they sipped from centuries-old teacups and noshed on miniature French pastries.”

  Jax flashed me his sweet grin. “You have no idea. Anyway, by the last dessert course I’m antsy because Agnes has grilled us on everything from our upbringings to our hockey careers to our favorite movies. While I’m not drinking, Agnes keeps pouring champagne for Gabi, which loosens her tongue, and that wasn’t helping us move things along. Finally some butler dude reminds Agnes she has another appointment so she gets down to ‘brass tacks’—her word choice, not mine. Immediately she turns into this shrewd businesswoman who apparently knew my grandfather, the other Jackson Lund. He screwed her and her husband out of two big business deals sixty years ago, buying up smaller companies they’d intended to invest in. I’m thinking to myself . . . I’m screwed. Then she informs me that ‘Jackson, the unpleasant toad’ had actually done them a favor, forcing them to reevaluate their business goals, and they ended up multimillionaires.”

  “Wow. That’s weird. Then again, the Lunds have been movers and shakers in the Cities for what . . . a hundred and fifty years?”

  “It gets even more bizarre. Agnes believed it was karma that I—Jackson’s namesake—came to her for a favor. To ‘settle the score’ she offered to sell me Lakeside, allowing me to take whatever action I want with the building and the staff. Her price was fair, Luce. Strictly from a financial perspective, I would’ve been an idiot to turn it down. Then that crafty old fox said she’d only sell me the ice rink if I also bought a run-down bowling alley in Rosewood that she’s been trying to get rid of for over a year.

  I blinked at him. “You own the ice rink and a bowling alley?”

  “The papers I signed would attest to that,” he said dryly.

  “Who knows about this?”

  He scratched his chin. “Me. Gabi. Agnes. Her butler/personal assistant guy. And now you.”

  I poked him in the ribs. “I’ve made it to the short list?”

  Jax’s eyes softened and he reached up to touch my face. “You’re at the top of all my lists from here on out, Lucy.”

  I moved closer and kissed him. Twice. “What happens now?”

  “Staff meeting on Tuesday. Dennis is gone. The other instructors will be informed they’re on notice. Lakeside will be making changes for the next year. Not sure exactly what, except Gabi is reinstated and she’ll take over coaching Mimi’s team. I’ll still handle the skills class and I’ve got a few other ideas, but Tuesday’s the big day.” He brushed my hair away over my shoulder. “Will you come to the rink on Tuesday? Work your PR charm with the parents and kids while I’m dealing with the coaches?”

  “Jax. I don’t know anything about running an ice rink.”

  He chuckled. “Funny. Neither do I.”

  “I’m serious. This is your business.”

  “No, baby, this is our business. Now that we’re officially a couple, I want us front and center at Lakeside, not just me. All that means is we can tout it as a family-owned business.”

  “I won’t have to do anything like manage ad budgets and submit wage increases to payroll? Because I’m already taking on a ton of new responsibilities when Lennox goes on maternity leave.”

  “I just want your public support, even if in private you tell me I’m crazy for letting an eighty-five-year-old woman bully me.” He caressed my arm. Those rough-skinned fingers sent tingles rippling across my flesh. “And I’ll actually have a real office at Lakeside. No more sharing a closet space with Simone at the bar or borrowing the conference room at Chris’s office.”

  “Makes sense you’d have your base of operations there since you’ve spent most of your life in an ice arena.”

  “Hiring competent managers also means I won’t be stuck behind a desk. I want oversight in these businesses I’ve invested in . . . not being forced to make day-to-day managerial decisions. I have more important things to do.”

  “Like?”

  “You.” Jax flipped me onto my back and stretched out over me. “That will take up a lot of my time.” He pressed his lips to the corner of my jaw, then he started a meandering path of kisses down my neck. “A lot, my Lucy Q, so you won’t need to question what’s my number one priority.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Early on Sunday morning, after Jax and I had made love for the fourth time—the man was insatiable—we’d had a detailed discussion about our expectations going forward, both as a couple and as a family.

  Neither of us saw any reason to keep the truth of the change in our relationship from our daughter, because it wasn’t temporary. Jax wanted me to move in immediately, and I agreed there was no need for a transitional period. Intimately existing in the same space, both of us being present in Mimi’s life every day, we were both eager to make that our new normal.

  We skipped the Lund family brunch and the invite to watch the Vikings game at Walker and Trinity’s place. Jax picked Mimi up from his parents’ house and took her out fo
r ice cream so they could talk about their issues from Saturday. I could’ve gone with him to serve as a buffer in case things got tense. But they needed to find their own way to sort out conflict, especially now that things were about to change in Mimi’s world once again.

  Mimi was shocked to find me moving things from my bedroom into Jax’s bedroom. She was even more shocked when we admitted we’d fallen in love again and the new apartment was where we’d all live together as a family.

  Was Mimi happy about that? Not at all.

  Several of the hurtful things she’d hurled at us were aspects of becoming a three-person family unit that Jax and I hadn’t considered, including Mimi having to share her Daddy time with me, after she’d just gotten Daddy time, if we would be kissing all the time which was gross, if Daddy would make her do chores, if I’d let her watch cartoons before and after school, if she’d have a babysitter when we had Mommy and Daddy date nights like Calder’s mom and dad did, how would she choose who helped her with homework or who she read books with every night, and it wasn’t fair that she’d only have one bedroom when she used to have two.

  But the real kicker was when Mimi said she never wanted us to have another baby, because we’d probably love the baby more than her and forget about her.

  In the midst of her selfish concerns was real fear that she’d become less important in both of our lives. That’s when we realized we needed help to make this new family dynamic work. Family counseling sessions brought to mind broken families—not families that had been renewed like ours, but neither Jax nor I were willing to sacrifice Mimi’s happiness for our own. But neither were we willing to let an eight-year-old call the shots.

  Thankfully Jax’s counselor understood the stress the situation would put him under and set up an appointment for us with one of his colleagues.

  Mimi had been quiet since Sunday night. She watched her dad and me together with equal parts suspicion and fascination, because we hadn’t bothered to hide our happiness. There were no half measures with Jaxson Lund in public or private. In front of our daughter or behind our bedroom door.

  Lucky me.

  Tuesday I showed up at the ice rink after work to support Jax when he spoke to the staff. I’d almost made it to Jax’s new office at the end of the hallway, when I heard someone call out, “Lucy?” behind me. I wheeled around and faced Gabi.

  “What’s up, Coach Welk?”

  “Can I talk to you about something?”

  “Sure.”

  She jammed her hands in her back pockets. Then she blurted out, “I want you to know I’m not looking to screw around with Jax. I’d never do that. I’m not like that.” She paused to breathe. “I know it must seem like we’ve spent a lot of time together, but it’s all been business related . . . well, except for when he took me to Snow Village so maybe I could jump the line on the waiting list for an apartment. Besides that, even when we played hockey Saturday night, Jax has been one hundred percent professional with me. In fact, he’s the one who insisted that everyone stop calling me Gabi and start referring to me as Coach Welk. I have no interest in him romantically, okay? If he and I end up spending work time together, it’ll only be about work. You have my word.”

  I tried to keep my face blank. Where was this coming from? I couldn’t imagine that Jax had suggested she state her intentions to me. Had someone else brought it up with her? Because it seemed too specific to be a random convo. “I appreciate your honesty, Gabi, but can I ask why you’re telling me this?”

  Confusion distorted her expression, followed by disgust. “Because Jax’s brother was a real dickhead about it Saturday night. He said I’d better figure out where I stand, because the last place he’d ever let me stand was between you and Jax. Then he spewed a bunch of other stuff, but I was so mad I didn’t hear it all. But his warning about me getting too cozy with Stonewall was loud and clear.”

  That dumbass. I’m sure he had good intentions, but he’d gone about it the wrong way. Nolan had no business trying to circumvent a problem that wasn’t there. Not only that, it made Jax look like he needed help keeping his pants zipped. I guessed that Gabi hadn’t said anything to Jax, because she and I wouldn’t be having this discussion if she had.

  I smiled at her, which freaked her out, because she took a step back, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry. This is just a bizarre conversation, so bear with me, okay?”

  She nodded.

  “First of all, it takes guts to be proactive instead of reactive, and I appreciate that. Just from the little I know of your history at Lakeside, I understand why you’d want to deal with any issues right away. I’m happy and relieved that Jax has a person like you on his team and on his side through the upcoming changes. Maybe I should be jealous because you and Jax have hockey in common. But there’s no question in my mind that you and Jax are friends. And I’m grateful that he has a colleague who understands that part of his life.

  “That said . . . Jax and I have waded through some rough waters to get to this point, so he won’t do anything to screw this up. Neither will I. We are a solid unit.” I smiled at her again. “I appreciate your candor. Between us? Feel free to tell Nolan to mind his own business next time he decides to tell you what to do.”

  Gabi grinned. “Oh, I will, believe me. I wasn’t sure how my boss would react to me giving his brother a piece of my mind.”

  “Better that than giving him a piece of your stick.”

  She blinked at me. “What?”

  “Umm . . . isn’t that a hockey saying? Something to do with part of your hockey stick getting in on the action?”

  “You mean the phrase ‘he got a piece of that’? That’s from baseball.”

  I sighed. “I suck at hockey lingo.”

  “You ever want a crash course on it, hit me up.”

  “Thanks. I may need to do that if Mimi sticks with it.” I bumped her with my shoulder. “Sticks with it? Get it?”

  Gabi rolled her eyes.

  “Come on, that has to be a hockey pun.”

  “It was, it just wasn’t a good pun. Later, Mrs. L.”

  She walked off before I could correct her that Jax and I weren’t married.

  I walked through Jax’s open office door and saw him leaning over his desk. “You’re looking all official and owner-like.”

  “Shut. The. Door.”

  Terse words. That’s when I noticed Jax wore his brooding face. “What’s the matter?”

  “Shut the damn door, Lucy.”

  Fine, Mr. Crabby.

  Turning, I pushed it closed, rather than slamming it, and found myself pressed chest first against the door, watching Jax’s hand as he twisted the lock.

  He’d twined his other hand in my hair and pulled slightly in a lover’s signal to expose my neck to him, which I did without hesitation.

  His mouth brushed my ear. “That hallway has great acoustics,” he murmured, “which means I can hear everything.” He nuzzled my neck and repeated, “Everything.”

  Why was he telling me this . . . Oh. Crap. He’d heard me talking to Gabi.

  “You don’t have any idea, do you, what it meant for me to overhear that I have your full trust, when you didn’t have a clue I was listening? To hear you tell Gabi that she’d never be a threat to our relationship because you are that fucking confident in us and in me? Christ. I’ve never been so relieved. So humbled.” He kept rubbing his lips back and forth across that same section of skin until gooseflesh broke out. “And so turned on. Fuck, woman. I need to show you that I’ll never take that trust for granted.” He planted soft kisses from below my ear across the underside of my jaw. “I need to feel you, soft and wet and warm all around me.”

  “Now?”

  “Right now.” He dragged more kisses down my throat. “Please.”

  From the heat of his mouth, of his words, of his body pressed against mine, I’d start
ed to drift to that sensual daze that Jax could invoke with little effort. And the please . . . I loved that as much as I loved right now.

  My soft moan was all the encouragement he needed.

  Jax rucked my skirt up to my hips, hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of my tights, then shimmied them and my panties down my legs to the tops of my boots. “I love that you wear skirts.”

  I knew he loved hobbling me, only allowing my legs to spread so far, forcing a tighter connection and less movement on my part, since I tended to be squirmy.

  “Unbutton your blouse,” he said against the curve of my shoulder, “then put both hands on the wall.”

  And I loved his commanding urgency, his rapid breath flowing against my skin.

  Behind me, I felt his hands yanking down his sweats and boxer briefs. Then his mouth was gone from my skin for a moment when he ditched his long-sleeved T-shirt.

  My fine motor skills vanished entirely when I heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper, followed by the heavy weight of his erection nudging me.

  Apparently my clothing removal wasn’t fast enough. Jax tugged my blouse free, peeled it down my arms and chucked it on the floor. My bra quickly landed next to it.

  Then his muscled chest was as hot and heavy as a sun-warmed rock against my back. I hissed in a breath when his right hand dove between my legs and his left hand impatiently swept my hair aside so he could sink his teeth into the nape of my neck as he impaled me.

  “Oh god.”

  “Gotta be quiet so no one can hear how much fun we’re having,” he whispered, moving my hand to a better position on the wall to brace myself.

  That fizzy, flipping, buzzy sensation overtook me when he started to thrust.

  Yes, definitely fun, but so much more than that. “Jax.”

  “You can touch me all you want later,” he growled into my ear.

  We’d become attuned to each other so fast it’d scare me if I dwelled on it. Instead I blanked my mind to everything except how Jax made me feel—alive, desired, beautiful.