Wild Child

by A. S. Green

  “I don’t know how you’d know that,” Jax says. His tone is flat and cool; the clear insinuation is that I don’t know him as well as I think. “But this business doesn’t take a break at five o’clock.”

  His words, his patronizing tone…they hurt like a mother and make me feel stupid. Stupid and small. Caveman is gone, and I feel us reeling backward even as I make another desperate lunge to right us. “I know it doesn’t. I just thought it would be good for you to come with us.”

  The tension in the room is palpable now. Nisi is suddenly overly focused on her computer. Mo is pretending to be interested in a collection of pens on his desk. Nick has taken a few steps back, but his arms are folded and he’s watching us closely.

  “I know what’s good for me,” Jax says. What he doesn’t say, but what I hear just as loud, is “And what’s not.”

  I straighten my shoulders, ignoring the saltiness that burns behind my eyes. Any elation I’d felt at catching my first thief is gone. “You’re right, Mr. Sparke. Of course, you’re right. My mistake.”

  To anyone else who’s still watching, Jax’s face looks completely blank. But I catch the tightening in his eyes when I don’t use his nickname like always.

  That flinch…it’s not a lot, but it’s enough to make me think I haven’t lost him completely. Not yet, anyway.

  He turns and exits the room. A few minutes later, my heart has settled and my eyes have cleared. I head for the break room to get yet another dose of caffeine, and I’m almost to the corner when I hear whispered voices. One of them sounds pissed off. It’s Jax. I’m pretty sure the other voice is Nick Spanos.

  “Sorry, boss, but Mo says you haven’t been putting out any signals, and I got to say, that last back-and-forth has me even more confused.”

  “This is me clearing things up,” Jax says.

  “Seriously? Because Nisi says you barely speak to her. You sayin’ Natalie’s your woman?”

  Oh, God. Please say I am. Please say I’m yours.

  “I’m saying Ms. O’Brien’s not going to be your woman. Are we clear now?”

  I cover my mouth with my hand before the sound trapped in my throat gives me away.

  “Whatever you say, Sparke. I like my job too much to get in your way, but man, whatever play you got, now’s the time to make it. A woman like that does not stay on the market long.”

  “I know that. You think I don’t know that? Every day I…” He stops there, and I wait for him to go on. He doesn’t.

  I want to fill in the blanks, because the answers are so clear to me. Every day I miss his touch. Every day I miss his laugh. I miss the fun we had on the road. Remember that, Jax?

  “Just stay away from her,” Jax says. “And maybe take another peek at our employee handbook. No office fraternization.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  “Get your skip?” Jax asks, changing the subject to something more comfortable.

  “Finally.”

  “File your report by morning.”

  “Always do,” Nick clips before coming around the corner so fast he nearly runs me over. He grabs me by the shoulders to stop me from falling backward, then steadies me on my feet.

  “Oh, hey,” I say breezily, blowing a lock of hair off my face as if I hadn’t been listening to that whole thing. Nick does not look fooled.

  When Jax follows around the corner and finds Nick’s hands on me so soon after his warning, his gray eyes dart to mine, then to the back of Nick’s head. I’d swear there’s a rumbling growl coming out of somewhere deep in Jax’s chest, but maybe I’m imagining that.

  A second later he stalks away. So much for staking his claim. Nick must be having the same thought, because as soon as Jax is out of earshot, he says, “You…are a disturbance in the force.”

  “Yeah, okay, Obi-Wan,” I say, straightening my blouse.

  Nick laughs out loud, then says, “Got any sisters?”

  …

  Hoban Korean Restaurant & Karaoke Café is great. Turns out bibimbap is my new favorite dish, and Nisi put Gloria Gaynor to shame. Normally, this is the kind of night when I’d stick around for last call, but it’s been a long day, and I’m so exhausted my body feels like it’s made of sludge.

  Nisi’s kind enough to give me a ride back to the apartment, but we stop at the office first because I forgot my jacket and it’s supposed to be raining again by morning. She waits in the car while I take the elevator up and cut through reception into the command center. I come to a staggering halt when I find Jax, alone, sitting in my chair.

  His head is tipped back, and he’s staring up at the ceiling as if it were a starry sky on Little Bear Island and not an industrial array of pipes and air-conditioning ducts.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, looking to see if there’s something up there that I’m missing.

  He swivels around in my chair to face me. He’s wearing black basketball shorts and running shoes. There is a vertical line of sweat running down the center of his frayed Gold’s Gym T-shirt. God, that’s sexy.

  Then my eyes land on the jagged scar that pokes out from under the hem of his shorts. Every time I imagine what caused it, my stomach makes a lunge for my throat. I push it down.

  “Seems you’ve gone and become best buds with everyone,” he says, pulling me out of my head. “Record timing. Even for you.”

  I shrug and walk closer. “I’m friendly, and my moods aren’t all over the board. You should try it sometime. Besides, I’m not going to sit in some stranger’s apartment all by myself while you figure out what you’re going to do about me.”

  “What I’m going to do about you,” he says, echoing my words in barely more than a whisper. He leans forward, elbows to knees. A muscle tics along his jaw. “Was Spanos out with you tonight?”

  As soon as the question leaves his lips, his eyes drop from mine to the floor. Nevertheless, I narrow my own eyes at him and cross my arms. I don’t have the energy for this. “Nope.”

  “He didn’t go?” Jax looks up, his face brightening by a slight margin.

  “Oh, he came with us. I meant nope, that’s not happening.” I won’t allow him to play these games.

  “Good.” He exhales and rubs his hand over his newly returned beard. “You’re too good for him.”

  I shake my head because he’s still misunderstanding me. “What I meant is that this lead-in to some sort of jealous rant when you’ve barely looked at me since we left New Orleans? That is not happening. Not gonna fly.”

  “I look at you. Jesus, I look at you all the time. I have to leave the room just to give my eyes a fucking break.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got to call bullshit on that.”

  “You think you know what I’m dealing with?” He stands and moves closer. His tone is beginning to flare in a way I now recognize. It’s a sign I’ve come dangerously close to a nerve.

  “A little,” I say, proceeding with caution. “Not everything. But only because you’ve got it buried deep. You don’t let anyone in.” I put my hands on my hips, getting down to business. “That’s why practically your whole workforce is out having a good time while you’re sitting here, all by yourself—at midnight with all the lights blazing.” I glance around the room for emphasis. “Someone might think you’re afraid of the dark.”

  His head jerks, almost imperceptibly, and I pause to consider all the lights he’s kept on during our trip. Fuck, how much truth was in my careless statement? I exhale and let my hands fall from my hips. “What’s in your head, Jax?”

  His face clouds, but he doesn’t look away. “My head is not a good place to be.”

  “It’s probably better with a little company.” I glance toward the exit. Nisi is outside waiting for me. I should probably go.

  “It’s not,” he says, bringing my attention back to him. “Or…it hasn’t been. But that’s why I was sitting in here. I was hoping you’d come for this.” He takes my jacket from the back of my chair and hands it to me. “I wanted you to know…it’s different.
Having you here. It’s harder to pretend.”

  “You were pretending in New Orleans?”

  “I can be someone else on the road. Usually someone who doesn’t exist. With you…with you here with me, I want to be someone I used to know. Me… Christ. I can’t believe I’m saying this.”

  “Just say it.”

  “I want to say…please, don’t rush me. Believe it or not, I am trying.”

  That’s all I can ask of him, because I know it’s asking a lot. “What’s changed to make you want to try? And please tell me it’s not Nick Spanos.”

  “It’s Spanos.”

  “Jesus, Jax.”

  “And Murray. And Morales. All those guys. Even Janeesa.”

  It takes me a second to remember he means Nisi. Crap. I need to go. She’s going to be pissed I’m taking so long.

  “You’re always laughing with them. Touching them on the arm…” His pulse beats visibly in the hollow of his throat, and I watch—fascinated—as it picks up its pace.

  “Jax,” I say on a sigh. “Why should that bother you?” Doesn’t he know he’s the only one I want to touch? “Don’t get me wrong. I want you to care. You know how I feel.”

  “It would be easier if you didn’t feel anything for me.”

  I seriously doubt that. Not feeling for him would leave a wide-open chasm in the middle of my heart. He has always been the one man who made me feel alive…powerful…more myself. Without him… Well, I already know who I am without him. I’ve lived that for six years, and I don’t want to do that anymore.

  He raises his hand to touch my cheek, but then he lets it fall away.

  “If you want to be with me,” I say, my voice sounding a little hoarse, “please, just be with me.” Please don’t fight us.

  He closes his eyes and bows his head. “If I thought I could be with someone right now…” He looks up. “Trust me. I’d be with you.”

  “Jax.” My eyes are burning. It doesn’t help that his look shiny, too.

  He heads for the hallway. I watch him go, holding back the sob that wants to erupt past my lips.

  Just as he reaches the corner, he stops and pivots back to face me. His body seems to vibrate with indecision. “Do you need a ride to the apartment?”

  “No.” I sniff, then loop my jacket over my arm. “Nisi’s outside.”

  Another conversation, this one silent, passes swiftly between us.

  Me: Should I tell her to go? Am I’m staying with you?

  Jax: I don’t want you to follow me, but God, I wish you’d try.

  “Good night, Jax,” I say, this time out loud.

  Something changes on his face. He strides so quickly back across the room toward me that his speed causes me to gasp.

  “Natalie,” he says, and then he wraps one arm around my waist and pulls me into him. The raw force of it makes my back arch. His mouth crashes down on mine in an all-consuming kiss that wipes every thought from my head. Yes!

  One of his hands slides up my spine, cupping the back of my head while he finishes the kiss, holding on to my bottom lip a second longer. His sleepy gray eyes hit mine, but this time they are full of surprise, and the joy in them lights me up from the inside.

  He slides his cheek along mine until his lips are at my ear. “I’ll get my shit sorted. I promise.”

  When he pulls back, his eyes lift suddenly to something behind me. His face goes stony and then, just as quickly as he came to me, he’s gone.

  As I watch him go, the world shifts silently but surely under my feet. I put my hand on the desk to steady myself. “Fuck,” I whisper on an exhale.

  “You can say that again,” Nisi says, and I whirl around at the sound of her voice.

  “What are—”

  “Sorry. You were taking longer than I expected, so I thought maybe you couldn’t find your key card.”

  “Did you hear any of that?” I ask. I hope she didn’t. I don’t need anything to set Jax back any further.

  “More like saw, and girl… Something has got to be done about that man. He’s dressed himself up like a powder keg, and you’re standing there with your hair on fire.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Natalie

  The Next Morning

  I wake up thinking about numbers.

  I realize a second later that I was even dreaming about numbers. At first it doesn’t make sense. The swirling, nonconsecutive mess of them. They started on a calendar and then flew off into the wind, like so many plastic bags swirling out of the back of a garbage truck, serpentining in the air. It takes me a few seconds more to make sense of it, and then it’s like, Shit! Shit, shit, shit!

  I pick up my phone and open the calendar, counting days. No. How? Fuck. Shit. No.

  I’m sometimes late, but never this late. I missed a whole period and didn’t even notice. It has to be the stress of new surroundings, new job, new people messing with my cycle. Jax and I only had unprotected sex that one time, and it’s not like I’m sixteen. Teenagers get pregnant on the first time.

  I get out of bed and run to the bathroom to check things out. Nothing. Not even a spot. I have this weird idea that if I put in a tampon, my body will react to the suggestion. Maybe all it needs is a reminder. Yes, it’s crazy, but that’s where I’m at.

  As I sit on the toilet, I open the cupboard under the sink to see if Melinda keeps her supplies in there. My eyes, however, don’t land on the familiar blue box but rather the smaller one next to it. Melinda must have had her own scare once, because right there, inches from my fingertips, is an open box of pregnancy tests, with one of the two tests missing.

  I stare at the box for a second, then decide there’s no way. I’m only a little over two weeks late. There’s no way I’m going to waste a test on nothing more than a premature concern. Tests are expensive. I pick up the box and read the label.

  It can be taken as soon as the first day of a missed period. But I haven’t truly missed my period, right? It could still come this afternoon. Or even tomorrow. Tomorrow isn’t horribly late, all things considered. I take out the remaining test and tear open the packaging. I’m going to have to buy a replacement box.

  Or…I could take it tomorrow. I probably couldn’t pee again this soon anyway. But I suppose I could try. I turn on the faucet and let the water run, looking for inspiration.

  It must be nerves, because I’m peeing again. Not a lot, but a little. I’m taking the test. It’ll be negative. I’m going to feel so stupid for being nervous about this.

  When it’s time to look, I do it with one eye closed. It looks like a minus. I open the other eye to make sure. Yeah. I think that’s a minus. Phew.

  I pick up the box and read the instructions again. Then I walk into the kitchen to look at the test stick under different lighting, turning it at different angles to see it better. Is that a… Maybe it’s still too soon to know for sure? Maybe I didn’t pee enough?

  No, if it were positive it would be more obvious. It’s definitely a minus.

  There’s a knock at my door, and I quickly shove the test into the box and drop it into the open kitchen garbage.

  “Coming,” I yell. I wash my hands at the sink, then tug at the bottom of my sleep shorts. I check the peephole. What the hell? It’s Jax.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Jackson

  I can’t believe I’m here, but I’m here. Standing outside Natalie’s door at seven fucking thirty in the morning, hand raised. I flex my wrist back, readying to knock again, but hesitate. It’s early. I have no good explanation for being here this early. But I’m doing this—maybe I should have rethought showing up in sweaty running clothes. That’s how she found me last night. She’ll probably think I slept in them.

  But I’m here, so I rap my knuckles against the door.

  At first there’s nothing. Then the soft shuffle and creak of floorboards. There’s a second when I’m sure she’s looking through the peephole (at least I hope she has the common sense to do that), then the door slowly opens. I le
an against the frame, partly because I’m trying to look casual, partly because I’m undone by the subtle scent of gardenias.

  “Jax,” she says, and my body gets that same little shiver it gets every time she says my name. “Is everything okay?”

  I lift the paper bag in my left hand and step into her apartment, making her take two steps back. “Why would you think it wasn’t?”

  “You don’t look like you’ve slept, and you’re sweating.”

  “I ran here, but then I stopped for these.” I set the bag on the counter.

  She glances at the bag, but only briefly. “What are you doing here?”

  It’s a legitimate question. This is my first visit to her temporary apartment, because that’s the kind of asshole I am.

  “Here,” she says. “Let me get you a glass of water. What’s in the bag?” She peeks inside, seeing chocolate. Glazed. Even a bear claw. She looks up at me with her eyebrows raised.

  “Didn’t you know?” I ask, repeating her words from several weeks ago. “All the best days start with a doughnut.”

  Her eyebrows pull together, then she says, “Okay. What’s really going on?”

  I don’t answer straightaway, because I’m still working on the answer to that. Instead I comment on the obvious. “You’re not ready for work yet?”

  My eyes travel down her body to her shapely legs that extend out of the most minuscule pair of cotton shorts. They should be a crime in all fifty states.

  “It’s only seven thirty,” she says, glancing behind her at the digital clock on the stove.

  “Get ready.”

  “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

  “Natalie,” I say, placing my hands on her shoulders and smoothing my palms down the length of her arms. “This is me trying.”

  She tips her head to the side at the sound of her name, probably appraising my level of sincerity. “You mean, we’re going to walk into work together?”

  My lips twitch. “Maybe.”

  “Okay. Give me a second to get dressed.”

  I eat one of the doughnuts while she bangs around in the bathroom. Then I wipe my hands on a paper towel, which I bunch up and take to the open trash can by the end of the counter. It takes me a second to interpret what I’m seeing at the bottom of the otherwise empty can.