Dirty Disaster

by Addison Moore

  I give a quick hello to the secretary and hop into the elevator as I make my way to the penthouse floor where I fully expect to find Jaxson sitting on his steel throne.

  My heart palpitates unnaturally as the doors whoosh open, and a modern, not modest by any means, whitewashed enclave awaits with bodies bustling to and fro as if this were a New York conglomerate and not a blip on the map of Oak Grove. I head toward the row of offices and can’t help but note the new sparkling granite floors, the stainless steel desks with their new age design. There’s a minimalist atmosphere here in general, and the entire scene looks far more polished than I ever remember it. That last time I visited was the day I helped Conner move his boxes up to his office. It was Thanksgiving weekend, many moons ago, and I made sure that Jax was nowhere near the facility. Jaxson and I have made it a fine art to avoid one another, but not today. Today is all about finding that bad boy and teaching him a lesson.

  “Poppy?”

  I turn to find both Conner and Jaxson dressed to the nines in dark inky suits, but it’s the suit on the left—Jaxson’s to be exact—that has my ovaries popping like a Fourth of July grand finale.

  “Mother of God,” I whisper.

  “What are you doing here?” Conner comes over and offers me a quick embrace, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off Jaxson in that navy Italian masterpiece with the gold tie I’d love to use to kink things up a bit.

  “Pops?” Conner waves his hand over my eyes. “Shit. Tell me you’re not swooning. I’ll have to kick his ass all over again if you are.”

  “Of course, she’s swooning.” Jax breaks out into a sexy grin akin to any big bad wolf worthy of his granny eating salt. Wait, that did not sound right. Of his Poppy eating salt. I bite down on my lower lip so hard, I nearly draw blood to keep from giggling. “I’m glad you stopped by. I was just about to call you.”

  “Really?” Heart stops. Dies. Jaxson Stade, love of my life, was about to use those seven magical digits to tap me on the technological shoulder to tell me he loves me. Okay, so maybe not that. But still. Communication efforts were underway. It’s a start.

  “Yes, really.” His brows twitch, and I melt under the duress of those violently blue eyes. When God made Jaxson, he might have dumped a little too much testosterone in the mix because Jaxson has the power to turn any girl into an ovary popping puddle. I swear, I hate this part of me. I used to be strong—attack with my words and then run the hell away was my MO around him for so long. But I can’t help the fact I’m weak as water. When Jaxson Stade pours out all of his attention on you, he has a way of making you feel like the only woman on this lonely planet. “My mother is here.” He nods toward the boardroom. “Let’s go in and say hello.” His arm finds its way around my shoulder as he gives a little wink.

  Conner steps in and flips Jaxson’s arm right back off of me. “Why don’t you head in first?” he grunts at his best friend. “We’ve got a little family business to tend to.” My brother offers me a strange combination of a frown and a grimace.

  “Will do.” Jax bounces his finger off my nose before heading into the room just down the hall.

  “What family business?” I try to peer over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Jax through the wall-sized window that leads to the boardroom.

  Conner steps over to make sure my view is completely blocked. He was this way when we were kids, too. Always making sure he wasn’t being ignored while acting like an ass. “Have you lost your freaking mind?”

  “No, I haven’t lost my freaking mind. I’m trying to lose my freaking virginity in the event you haven’t noticed,” I tease while jumping up to catch a glimpse of what’s going on in that boardroom without me.

  “What?” Conner squawks while stepping in front of me with his refrigerator wide girth, and I give up all hope of sneaking a glimpse of my childhood crush in a zoot suit.

  “I’m kidding. I lost my virginity ages ago to Tommy Macintosh in the back of that old VW he used to have.”

  “Geez!” Conner covers his ears half-heartedly. “Would you cut it out? Are you trying to kill me? Is that what this is about?”

  “No, I’m not trying to kill you. Don’t flatter yourself. This isn’t about you. It’s about me.” And our mother, I want to add but don’t. “I’m happy.” In a revenge-fueled kind of way. “Besides, that’s Jaxson Stade back there. Any girl in town would be glad to claim him, and he’s all mine. You should be happy for your little sister,” I bleat out that last sentence like a threat.

  “I’m not happy. I’m weirded out. You’re right. That’s Jaxson Stade, the boy you practically grew up knowing as your second brother. Hell, he’s my brother. And my brother and sister can’t do things like that together.” Conner softens with a pained look in his eyes as he walks back to his office, and I don’t stop him. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. And I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”

  What’s gotten into me? I shake my head. It’s clear something has gotten into him. Yes, Jax was close to both of us, but it’s clear Conner is the only one who saw him as a spare sibling. My hormones were too devout in worship to see him that way. But he’s right. I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into.

  I take a deep breath and step into that office, fully expecting to find Jaxson’s sexy self preparing his mother for the steamy show to come, when I step right into a dark-haired vaginal touting vixen instead—Larissa.

  “Well, if it isn’t Ms. Yeast Infection herself.” I force a tight smile. “If you’re looking for a good ointment to cure that rash, I hear there’s a sale at Walgreens on that tutu cream you tried to peddle.”

  “You know—you’re still not funny, Montgomery.” She flicks me in the face with the stack of papers in her hands and walks out the door in those six-inch stilts she’s trying to pass off as heels.

  I step in to find a shocked Debbie Stade staring right back at me.

  “Poppy, is that you?” Deb honks so loud my name traverses around the cold sterile room like an echo chamber. She swoops on over in her chic pantsuit, her hair carefully coifed and sprayed to a menopause bob perfection.

  “Alive and in the flesh!” I head over to Jax without hesitation. I might have started on this road to deception with hesitation, but I’m all aboard the Jaxson Express, or at least I’m hoping to be before midnight. Sadie is right. What is wrong with ending my dry spell while I’m in between jobs? Hopefully soon, I’ll be back in L.A. getting coffee for my new, requisitely tyrannical boss while pretending to be important to my friends and family back home. Okay, so it’s not that bad, and if I had a new job, I’d be more than happy to play barista.

  “I just couldn’t stand to be away from this one another livelong minute!” I wrap my arms around Jax Stade in a suit and die a thousand GQ deaths. His chest expands as he takes in a breath, and I’m mesmerized by the way the fabric of his smooth shirt stretches over that rock-hard chest of his. Jax was on the track team back in high school, and the swim team, and the football team—and let’s not forget his love of baseball in the spring. He’s an all-around competitor, whom I might have called Jock Cock a time or two, but only because I was teasing—and drooling. I’ve always been fascinated by the things this boy could do with his body, right up until he started doing the entire cheerleading squad. That sort of killed my fascination—and thus, my fascination sort of turned into a bona fide fear for the general hygiene of his balls and our future children he was housing in there. Although that dream eventually faded just like our friendship.

  “Come here, you.” Jax lands his palm over my cheek and plants a slow lingering kiss right over my lips. He pulls back, and I’d swear on my life that the chuckle he’s giving is entirely due to the fact my cheeks have ignited a deathly shade of garnet.

  “I still can’t believe this is real.” Deb pulls the three of us into an awkward embrace. “Did your mother mention anything about the POTS gala?”

  “Yes!” I give a little enthused hop. “And we’ll be there with bells on
.”

  “Bells!” She claps up a storm. “Wedding bells, I hope.” She gives a little wink as she cinches her purse over her shoulder. “You know as happy as I am for you both, I’d like to think that my Dalton is smiling down on the two of you twice as hard.” Tears glitter in her eyes as she brings her dead husband into the mix, and my stomach clenches. It’s all fun and games until someone drags a dead body into the room. And in this case, it’s Jaxson’s father. He was a great man, and I cried as hard as Jaxson did the day we lost him.

  Jaxson pulls me in close as he looks to his mother. “I’d like to think so, too.”

  She shakes her finger at her son as she heads for the exit. “A lot of people thought the two of you belonged together from the start, but he believed in you like no one else.”

  “Oh,” I whimper without meaning to.

  “I’ll catch you two later. Don’t behave now—you hear?” She gives a wicked cackle as she closes the door behind her.

  I bury my face in my hands a moment. “I’m sure your father would be rolling in his grave if he knew what we were up to.”

  “Are you kidding?” He gives my shoulder a quick rubdown. “He’s probably cheering us on from the sidelines. He always thought those two were trouble. He used to call them—”

  “Lucy and Ethel.” I nod. “But he was wrong. They are way worse than that.” I glance around the room. “Did I interrupt anything?” The enormous table behind him is laden with trays of crudités, still heaping with ignored carrots that line the periphery like little nubby fingers, and mounds of untouched broccoli. “A carbohydrate intervention perhaps? When did Stade Steel outlaw donuts?”

  He lets out a laugh, and his fingers dig into my side before brushing over my left boob.

  “Sorry.” He winces as he holds his hand up like a thief. “You do realize that wasn’t a cheap ploy to land on second base.”

  “I don’t see why not. Your body is practically programmed to round out the bases on opening night. So all things considering, I guess I’m okay with it.”

  His watery blue eyes steady into mine. “You still okay with this?” He gives my finger a tug when he says it.

  “If it brings an ounce of emotional distress to the women who have specialized in giving us emotional distress all our lives, I say we walk to third the next time those two are in the room. What is third base, anyway?”

  “Come on, Eight Ball. You do realize your other nickname in school was practically third base personified.”

  “If you’re talking about Pop Top, that nickname was exclusive to Jugs Larissa Magee, and why the hell are you employing her after she tried to pants me in the middle of the quad on homecoming day?”

  Jax softens into me, that smile of his wanes just a bit, and there’s a veiled look of sadness in his eyes. It’s easy like this with Jaxson, and I’m not sure what could possibly pain him about that. Then it hits me.

  “I’m so sorry.” I press my hand to my chest. “That was totally insensitive of me. I know how much the passing of your dad still affects you. It affects me, too.” My voice crawls down to that deplorable level reserved for talking to infants and small furry pets—and apparently, family grief as it were.

  “It does?” He tips his head and gives that lazy smile that makes my thighs quiver.

  “Yes, it does. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that my employing Larissa offends you. I should have known you’d breeze back into my life one day, fully amped to unleash vengeance on our mothers, and it would bring you right here to my boardroom.” His eyes bear into mine with a look of wonder. “What has you back in Oak Grove? Are you a permanent fixture, or should I prepare for heartbreak?” His left eye comes this close to winking, and my sweet spot pulsates on cue. I love it when he does that. It’s been his odd physiological response whenever he’s attempting to veil the truth. But, wow, is it hot as a kiss from the sun. I’m pretty sure having routine orgasms around the boy you lusted after religiously isn’t the best idea, considering he’s setting the orgasmic bar pretty high. Those California nights are about to get longer and far lonelier once my feet touch down on L.A. soil.

  “Prepare for heartbreak. I have a new job starting a week after we collectively dash our mothers’ hearts.” God—I am such a liar! Although I’m hoping something will materialize for me in that regard. I guess it’s not really lying. I’m sort of tossing positive energy out into the universe.

  “New job.” That pained look comes to him once again. “I’m glad to hear you’re doing great out there.” He takes a deep breath, and that enormous chest of his rises and falls. “So I have you all to myself for the next few weeks.” His tongue does a quick revolution around those cushion soft lips as if he were readying to eat his favorite meal, and my eyes linger on the gloss left in his tracks.

  “All to yourself,” I muse. My breathing becomes labored as the air seems to thicken unnaturally. Jaxson steps in closing the gap between us, and the warmth of his body radiates over me. There is something simply intoxicating about a man in a suit, but there is something downright delicious about Jaxson in a suit that makes me punch drunk with lust on a level that I can hardly stand.

  He reaches over and hitches my hair behind my ear in a move so sweet it makes my legs clench in an effort to keep my ovaries from attacking him.

  “Come on, Eight Ball,” he whispers in a seductive way that only Jax knows how to do. “I’ll give you a quick tour of the building.” He threads his arm through mine and nods. “For my mother’s sake.”

  “Oh, right, for her sake.” I swallow hard as the girth of his body relaxes against mine. Jaxson strides us down the hall and shows me off like a brand new sports car. I’d be remiss if I didn’t note the fab way every single female on the floor drops her jaw in our honor, but the most noteworthy jaw drop is the one we’re experiencing now as we come upon Larissa as she chats stereotypically by the water cooler while her nipples peer out for a chance to peek at Jaxson themselves.

  “What’s this?” Larissa bounces the girls right over as she demands explanation.

  “The cat’s out of the bag.” I wrap an arm around this steely handsome man by my side. “Our mothers are finally getting what they wished for—the two of us are—” Just as I’m about to spear Larissa in the heart with an icicle in the shape of Jaxson Stade’s most prized member, he clears his throat.

  “Having some fun,” he interjects.

  “Really? Having some fun?” She steps back, looking a little affronted by our effort to have a good time. “Finishing one another’s sentences?” Her mouth opens wide. If Dalton is truly looking out for us, I’d appreciate it if he sent a giant red-eyed horsefly to zoom right down her throat. It would totally be worth the projectile vomiting that would inevitably ensue.

  “We’d better go.” I give Jax a tug in the opposite direction. “He was just about to lead me to his lair. Rumor has it, he’s really good at bending the masses over his desk, and there are just some things that a girl needs to find out for herself. Toodles!”

  A dark laugh thunders from his chest as he navigates me deeper down the labyrinth that is the penthouse floor of Stade Steel.

  “Why did you tell her we were just having fun?” I resist the urge to smack him as he opens the door to an office the size of my apartment back in L.A., and I forget to take my next breath. Glossy dark wood floors and walls adorned with oversized canvases that practically span to the ceiling greet us. An enormous white sofa and a full black granite bar sit in the corner. The desk itself is a testament to the product Stade Steel rolls out by the bolt with a large black leather seat situated behind it.

  His hands come up over my shoulders as he offers an impromptu massage. “Because that’s what we’re having, isn’t it? Fun?”

  “Fun,” I whisper as I turn around to face my childhood friend as the dangerously gorgeous man he’s turned out to be. His eyes are fastened to mine, his expression serious, and there’s just enough dark stubble shadowing h
is cheeks to give him that rough around the edges look that he practically invented. “Is that what you want? To have fun with me, Jaxson?” My throat is so dry I can hardly get the words out.

  The idea of a laugh rumbles from him as his thumb finds his way over my cheek with a quick sweep. “Yes, Poppy. I plan on having just that—a lot of fun with you.” He says fun like it’s a dirty word, and dear God Almighty, I’m hoping it will be.

  Fun. That’s the last thing I expected to have on my trip back to Oak Grove.

  It’s the last thing I expected with Jaxson Stade—but deep down, it’s exactly what I hoped for.

  Jaxson

  Days float by with Poppy by my side. It’s a surreal feeling to have her here, to have her near me at all. But I realize it’s all for show, each outing we partake in is well-orchestrated to either directly or indirectly involve our mothers. First, there was bowling, which she beat me at legitimately, and I’m still pretty ticked about it. Next, there was a bar crawl at Starry Nights with friends. And let’s not forget that each time I picked up Jensen from daycare, Poppy was right there making sure we went for hot chocolate right after. I think Jensen is starting to like Poppy just as much as I do. And I do like Poppy. I’ve always liked her. And yet there’s something about this revelation that saddens me.

  What the hell is there to sadden me about hanging out with Poppy? Yes, things were great when we were kids, but that gray zone we entered once puberty hit threw us off track. Something went wrong that I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s not like we were together. We dated other people. And then, like a spear to the heart, it hits me. That right there is the tender spot that never truly healed. Poppy might have dated other people all those years ago, but tonight Poppy Montgomery is dating me—and unfortunately, this hot date involves my mother.

  The doorbell rings, and I head straight over to find Poppy’s smiling face on the other side of the glass. I thought since my mother will be glued to the television tonight watching her favorite standby, Ice Skating with the Stars, Poppy should come over for dinner and a movie. That way my mother gets to watch the real show firsthand, and I get to reap the benefits.