Hold Me Until Midnight

by Christina Phillips

  Considering it had been almost four-thirty before they’d arrived at Jackson’s place, he was probably right. Wouldn’t have minded him trying, though. She took a long swallow of coffee. “That’s so good.”

  He opened the box to an assortment of freshly baked pastries and pulled her against him. She sighed and snuggled into his warmth. She could get so used to this.

  Somehow this seemed like a really big deal, as though they’d moved onto another level of their relationship.

  Maybe she was just fooling herself. But he’d gone to her ball and hadn’t cared if people assumed they were together.

  She might’ve fallen for Jackson against all her best intentions. But maybe it wouldn’t end with her getting her heart broken. If she gave him enough time he’d see they had so much more than whatever he thought this was.

  “This is kind of strange.”

  “What is?” She helped herself to an almond croissant. It was light and warm and she’d never tasted anything so perfect. Or maybe that had something to do with the company.

  “This.” Jackson waved his coffee in the general direction of the baked goods. “Breakfast in bed. Is this a date?”

  She choked on her croissant. Had he really just said the D word? She hadn’t expected him to leap to that conclusion so soon. It had to be a sign that she wasn’t the only one who thought they could have a future together.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never had a breakfast date before so I guess it can be, if you want.”

  “Okay.” That’s all he said, but it was enough. She took another sip of coffee and tried not to obsess over a simple four-letter word.

  But she couldn’t help it.

  She wanted Jackson in every aspect of her life. Not just for hot sex. She wanted to show him off and let everyone know that he was hers.

  There was one sure way of doing that. To invite him to an Ashford family party, where only close relatives and official partners were welcome. The Fourth of July party her dad gave would be the perfect opportunity.

  Something had definitely shifted. Even her stupid fear that he’d be finished with her after she screamed his name during sex had finally disappeared.

  She could agonize over it all morning. There was only one way to find out for sure whether he was ready to face her family now that he was no longer only her fake date.

  …

  Jackson gave Scarlett a sideways glance. He liked having her in his bed, sharing breakfast. He wouldn’t mind doing it more often. How the hell do I tell her something like that?

  “Do you have anything planned for the fourth?” Scarlett licked some stray flakes of pastry from the corner of her mouth with the tip of her tongue.

  She has no idea how sexy she is.

  It took him a couple of seconds to focus on what she’d just asked him.

  The only plan he had for the holiday was the usual afternoon trip with his brothers to visit their gran. It had become an unspoken tradition. But he sure as hell was free if she wanted to do something in the evening.

  “Why?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing really.” She brushed a few crumbs off his shirt. “But my dad’s back from his honeymoon next week and we’re having this welcome home party. I thought if you were free you might like to come along.”

  Being invited to lavish Ashford functions was starting to become a habit. While he had no great urge to spend any more time with the same crowd who’d been at the wedding, he did want to spend the time with Scarlett.

  “Sure.” It was hard to maintain his sense of cool when Scarlett gave him one of her gorgeous smiles. “What time?”

  “The barbecue starts about four, so anytime before then would be great. Say about three?”

  That fucking sucked. It didn’t matter what he did now, he was screwed. That was the exact time he and his brothers were due at their gran’s.

  Chapter Sixteen

  A few nights later, Jackson walked into Murphy’s and scanned the crowded pub for his brothers. They’d made this their local hangout several years ago, an unspoken tribute to their mother’s Irish ancestry. Not that Jackson really remembered his mother. She’d died when he was eight.

  He remembered the god-awful rows between her and his father, though. And the violence. Nothing had ever been proven, but he and his brothers knew in their gut that her life with their brutal father had killed her.

  That fucking bastard. Jackson’s chest tightened as the memories clawed through his mind. He shoved them away. His father wasn’t worth getting riled up over. Not now. He, Alex, and Cooper had moved on from their past. And while they might have all flouted the law and played with fire as teens, thank God for their gran’s steady presence in their lives.

  She was their rock. And once their father was out of their lives she’d laid down the law all right. She might have been as poor as dirt but she made sure they all treated her like a lady.

  They might’ve earned money illegally and treated her to luxury items they’d traded on the black market. She was fine with that. But they all knew where she drew the line. And that line was no man ever raised his hand in anger against a woman.

  She’d suffered watching her daughter tied to a man with no backbone. But she’d made it clear her grandsons weren’t following him down that path.

  As if she’d needed to tell them that. None of them had ever wanted to follow their father anywhere.

  He caught sight of Cooper slouched over a table in the corner and made his way over. “Alex not here yet?”

  “Nah.” There was a weird note in Cooper’s voice as he read a text on his cell.

  Jackson dragged his mind away from Scarlett and the Ashford party in a couple of days to frown at his brother. “Trouble?”

  “It’s just Scott.”

  Cooper and Scott had been friends forever, and Scott’s baby sister had hit it big on some soap a few years back. Jackson had no idea why a message from Scott would distract Cooper. “Is he okay?”

  Cooper turned his cell off and tossed it onto the table. “Yeah.” He picked up his beer and took a long swallow from the bottle. When it became obvious that line of conversation had died, Jackson made his way to the bar to get himself a beer. He ordered a second when he saw Alex pushing his way through the crowd.

  This was going to be fun. He’d already spoken to their gran and been secretly taken aback at how okay she’d been about his change of plans for the fourth. Then she’d completely shocked him by suggesting he bring Scarlett to visit her sometime.

  Like that would ever happen. Only problem was, he hadn’t been able to get the idea out of his head since. He had the weirdest feeling the two women would get on well, despite their wildly differing backgrounds.

  He handed Alex his beer and they sat opposite each other, either side of Cooper. As Jackson took a swig, he thought how symbolic that was. Cooper, despite being the youngest brother, was often the buffer between him and Alex.

  “About tomorrow,” Alex said. “I’ve asked Ella to join us.”

  Jackson choked on his beer. Had his big bro finally seen the light there?

  “Ella always spends the holiday with her mom.” Cooper slung Jackson a look that clearly conveyed they were on the same wavelength when it came to Alex and Ella.

  Alex frowned. “I know. That’s why her mom is coming along too.”

  “Are you fucking mad?” Cooper said. “Ella’s mom drives gran up the wall.”

  “I’ve cleared it with her,” Alex said. “She’s fine if it means Ella will turn up. It’ll give you a chance to spend some time with her, Cooper. She was saying the other day she’s hardly seen you in weeks.”

  Cooper grunted in a noncommittal manner. Jackson mentally rolled his eyes and finished his beer. Alex wasn’t just blind when it came to Ella. He was also completely delusional if he thought she was interested in Cooper in that way.

  Jackson might as well get it over with. “I can’t make it to gran’s.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t make it?” Alex
placed his beer back on the table.

  “I mean I can’t make it.”

  “It’s just for a couple of hours, Jackson. Reschedule your other appointment.”

  Not happening, unless he didn’t turn up at the Ashford’s until after six. “No.”

  “Doesn’t sound work related to me.” Cooper leered at him over his beer. “Sounds like your dick leading you astray again, J.”

  Jackson ignored his brother’s remarks. Alex, on the other hand, shot Cooper a sharp glance before refocusing on Jackson.

  “You still seeing that Ashford girl?”

  Alex looked perfectly relaxed, except for the flicker of emotion in his eyes. And it wasn’t anywhere near the juvenile mockery Cooper tended to display.

  “What if I am?”

  “Thought you decided to finish things with her.”

  I never said that. It irritated the shit out of him that his brother thought he had the right to dictate his affairs.

  But mixed in with the irritation, the old guilt surfaced. Guilt that Alex had taken the fall for him twelve years ago. Guilt that he, Jackson, hadn’t been strong enough to stand up to their father for both himself and Cooper.

  It was the reason he couldn’t—wouldn’t—tell Alex to fuck off and mind his own business. Because Alex had sacrificed too much in the past trying to protect him and Cooper.

  “No.” That was all he said. That was all he needed to say, because it said it all.

  The following morning he’d just stepped out of the shower when the doorbell rang. It was only six. Who the hell turned up on a person’s doorstep at six in the morning?

  With a muttered curse, he pulled on a pair of jeans and slung a towel over his shoulder before he went downstairs. He’d bought the house a couple of years ago and while it was a long way from the refined estates Scarlett was used to, the neighborhood was far less bloody than the one he’d grown up in.

  He pulled open the door…and was confronted by two burly goons in black suits.

  “Jackson Grayson?” said the one on the left, but Jackson wasn’t fooled. They knew exactly who he was. As did the man sitting in the back of the sleek black limo parked on the road outside.

  “That’s right.” Jackson looked back at the speaker. If pushed he was sure he could take on the pair of them and come out on top.

  “This way.” The goon swept his arm in the direction of the car. “Mr. Ashford would like a word with you.”

  Jackson knew what that meant. At least he knew what it meant in his world. Maybe it didn’t necessarily mean getting the shit kicked out of you in the world of the Ashford’s.

  He wouldn’t bet on it though.

  He grabbed his keys from the side table and sauntered toward the limo. One of Ashford’s thugs opened the door for him, and Jackson took a deep breath and got in.

  The scent of leather and polished wood assaulted him. There would be no covert knife in the ribs here. It would ruin the upholstery.

  “Thank you for agreeing to see me.” Ashford gave him a cold smile. Scarlett obviously got her looks from her mother because Jackson could see nothing of her in this man.

  “Sure.” Like I had a choice. If Ashford thought he could intimidate Jackson with his flashy car and second-rate bodyguards, he was mistaken.

  He waited for the other man to finish with his probing look, which was clearly designed to unnerve him. Not going to happen. He just wished Ashford would get on with the threats and get it over with. What would his angle be? Stay away from my daughter if you don’t want a couple of broken legs?

  It would take more than a few broken bones to keep him from seeing Scarlett.

  “I understand my daughter has invited you to the party tomorrow.”

  Jackson didn’t bother to respond. Ashford flicked non-existent dirt from his suit pants, and for a second, the gesture reminded Jackson of Scarlett.

  “I suggest you tell her you’re unable to attend.”

  Irritation flared through him, even though he’d known the demand was coming. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because I can make it worth your while to stay away from Scarlett for good. Name your price.”

  For a second he stared at Ashford in disbelief. Did he seriously think he could buy him off simply by writing a fucking check?

  “I don’t want your money.” He ground the words between his teeth. You can shove your fucking money up your—

  “Scarlett has the Ashford name, but she wields no power. You’ll get nowhere if you insist on continuing this… liaison.”

  Don’t fucking lose it. “I’m not with Scarlett because of her name.”

  Jackson’s hands were fisted, and he forcibly relaxed his muscles. If Ashford’s intention was to make him lose his cool, he was well on the way to achieving his goal.

  Don’t give him the satisfaction. He exhaled a long breath and flattened his palms against his thighs. It wasn’t the thought of being mashed to a pulp by the men in black if he smashed his fist into Ashford’s smug face. It was not being able to look Scarlett in the eyes again if he raised his hand against her father.

  “I gather you’re opposed to some redevelopment work that’s being proposed in Heyward Street.”

  “What?”

  Ashford gave another of his cold smiles. “I can make it go away, Grayson. Permanently.”

  Ashford’s words acted like an icy shower. Jackson leaned across the space between them, until his face was just inches from Ashford’s.

  “I don’t need your help to make my problems go away.” His voice reminded him of his brother Alex. “And I’ll tell you this for nothing, Ashford. It disgusts me that you think you can use Scarlett in this way to get what you want.”

  He turned and got out of the car. Then he looked back at Ashford. For a second the mask slipped, and the hint of a smirk touched Ashford’s lips.

  It was enough to crack Jackson’s icy calm, and again he had the suicidal urge to resort to the violence that had once ruled his life. I am not my fucking father. He didn’t need to use his fists to settle a debate.

  Jackson strangled the rage and offered him a mirthless grin.

  “See you tomorrow, Mr. Ashford.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Scarlett surreptitiously checked her watch again. It was almost four. Hadn’t Jackson agreed to turn up at three? She couldn’t remember now. Maybe she had just suggested he arrive at three. But the barbeque was about to start and she had the mad urge to text him to find out where he was.

  She managed to resist. He’d said he was coming, and he would.

  “More champagne, Scarlett?” Edward thrust a flute in her face and she backed up, irrationally annoyed that he’d interrupted her thoughts. “Your father thought you looked a little pensive over here on your own. I told him I’d take care of you.”

  Edward smiled in that way he had that made her want to slap his face. She wondered how her family and her dad in particular would react if she ever did such a thing.

  “I don’t need taking care of.” She gave him a perfunctory smile, and good manners forced her to take the flute of champagne from him. What the hell was he even doing here today?

  Edward laughed, as though she had said something amusing, and brushed a curl back from her face, his finger lingering on her cheek. She tilted her head away from him and took a sip of champagne.

  Fuck off, asshole. If only she had the nerve to say that to his face.

  “Of course you do,” Edward said, oblivious to her subtle signs that she didn’t want him anywhere near her. “You need a real man in your life, not a steroid enhanced goon.”

  Scarlett gripped the Waterford crystal stem so tightly it was a miracle the glass didn’t shatter. She didn’t know which part of Edward’s statement to take issue with first. His pompous presumption that he was a real man or the dismissive dig at Jackson.

  Who most certainly didn’t need steroids to enhance any part of his body. The more she thought about it, the more pissed off she got.

  �
�Jackson,” she said with quiet dignity, “is not a goon, Edward, and I don’t like you speaking about him in that way.”

  Edward gave an unconvincing show of looking astonished. “Are you still seeing him? Your father’s under the impression you’ve split up.”

  They hadn’t spoken about Jackson since the wedding, but he’d know Jackson was invited today. It didn’t make sense her dad would think they’d split up.

  Edward, you are such a jerk face. What would he do if she said that out loud?

  And then she saw Jackson strolling across the lawn toward her. Her heart gave a strange little leap against her ribs, and warmth seeped through her chest. It was ridiculous and completely magical and she didn’t care if Edward saw her besotted smile.

  “Hey, babe.” His sexy drawl as he reached her side caused delicious shivers across her skin. “Haven’t missed anything, have I?”

  “Of course not.” She resisted the urge to fling her arms around his neck and eat him in full view of her entire family. Instead she gave him a demure kiss on the lips. “Now you’re here, it’s only just getting started.”

  Jackson slid his arm around her waist. Then he focused on Edward, who looked as though he’d just chewed on a chili.

  “You want something?” Jackson’s voice was even but Scarlett caught an undercurrent of something deadly in his tone. She frowned up at him, but he appeared to be waiting for Edward’s response.

  “Actually,” Edward said, but Jackson interrupted him.

  “Actually, I’m not interested in what you want.” He turned to Scarlett. “I need a drink.”

  “Sure.” She wound her arm around him and led him toward the bar beside the pool. Why couldn’t she so succinctly tell Edward where to go? Jackson had once told her she was too nice. She’d been insulted at the time, but now she could see his point.

  People like Edward didn’t take subtle hints and polite rejections. Even her little dig at him at the ball hadn’t dented his ego. He needed to be told how things stood in no uncertain terms.