Secret Heat

by Morgan Fox

  He tossed his bag to the chair in the corner just as his door burst open. “Stop being a dick,” she shouted, locking onto him like a fierce bear would its prey.

  “Oh, I’m a dick? Then what does that make you?” He closed the distance between them. “I was there for you, and what did I get as a sign of thanks? Your ass running from me as fast as you could.”

  “I wasn’t running from you,” she argued. “I was trying to help you.”

  “By crushing my nuts in a vice?” He laughed. “Wow, sweetheart, you really know how to give it to a man.”

  “Will you let me explain?” she grumbled, fisting her hands at her sides.

  Frustration looks good on her. “What’s to explain? I see everything perfectly. What I don’t see is why the hell you were so eager to join me on this joy ride.”

  “I wanted to be there for you like you were there for me.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “Did you expect me to walk away from you like you did me, too?” He leaned his face in close to hers. “Forgive me, but I’m not that much of an asshole.”

  She reared back and slapped him. “Forgive me for caring enough about you to ensure that you didn’t lose your job because you were fucking the help. Forgive me for wanting you to succeed in life where you deserved. Forgive me for putting your needs above my own. I sure the hell won’t make that mistake again.”

  She turned from him and before she could clear the room, he snaked his fingers around her arm and drew her against him. “What did you do?”

  “I went to Sam, but they’d already seen the footage of us together. Our secret was no longer a secret. To save your job, I had to move out and end things.” She held his gaze, her eyes watery. “I had hoped we’d have more time, but Jason and Sam were at your hotel before I had a chance to say or do anything. I feared telling you the truth because I—” She looked away, soft whimpers parting from her lips.

  “Because why?” His heart raced. He wanted so badly to mean more to her than just a fuck, a rescuer, or even a means of convenience—right place, right time. He cupped her face, bringing her eyes to meet his. “Tell me.” He’d beg if he had to.

  “I’m in love with you,” she whispered, her voice shaking with emotions.

  His breath caught. Desperate to be told that she wanted him, he almost dropped to his knees in disbelief. In a blink, he captured her in his arms and pulled her against him, cradling the back of her head as he kissed her hair. “You didn’t have to do any of that, Layton,” he told her. “I would’ve gladly found another job if it meant I had to lose you to keep the one at Iron Horse.”

  She eased back, meeting his gaze. “You worked too hard to get that job, Jax. I wasn’t going to be the reason you lost it.”

  He huffed out a breath, both annoyed at her for making a decision without him and happy that she cared so much about him. “You should’ve given me the chance to decide what was best. Watching you walk away was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to endure. You crushed me.”

  “I crushed myself,” she shared. “I’ve been sick over it.”

  He placed his finger under her chin. “In your heart, you know you should’ve let me figure things out with you. Couldn’t you see that we’re better together than apart?”

  Her eyes were glossy as she told him, “I did it for you.”

  Those words echoed in his head, a memory from long ago. His father had told him that. He let her go and stepped back, raking his hand over his scalp. “It seems everyone thinks that’s what I need them to do.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Acid burned at the back of his tongue, his body shaking with a past he wished had never happened. “My identical twin brother, Jefferson, drowned when we were six. He was my father’s shadow, while I was my mother’s.” He swallowed down the bile that choked him. “My father never treated me the same after that.”

  “Jaxson,” she whispered. “Do you honestly believe that your father loved Jefferson more than you?”

  He shrugged. “I always believed that it would’ve been better for my father if I had been the one who died, rather than Jeff.”

  Layton closed in on him, her hand raised. “Don’t make me bitch slap you again.” He eyed her. “I will if you say or think anything that stupid again.”

  “You weren’t there when I was growing up—a twinless twin. Never feeling enough. Always being silently compared to my dead brother.” He knew he sounded like a whimpering child pouting. But his feelings ran deep and had grown darker over the years. “It sucked,” he rasped.

  “I’m sure it did, but not because your dad was comparing you and your brother, but because you were comparing you and your brother.”

  His brow furrowed. If only it was as easy as that.

  “Jax, you told me your parents were loving, caring people.”

  He nodded.

  “That doesn’t sound like the type of people to pick one son over another. I’m sure losing your brother was an awful experience for them, but I’m willing to bet that they clung to you even more from that day forward. They had to have felt a horrifying fear of losing you, too. That kind of emotional strain can be destructive.”

  At times, his father couldn’t stand to be in the same room with him. Was it really because he looked like Jefferson and the reminder cut too deep? He closed his eyes and flinched at the memory of his father’s glaring gaze.

  “You weren’t there, Layton. You didn’t see the way they looked at me.”

  “By no fault of your own, you must’ve been a constant reminder of the child they couldn’t save.” He heard her footsteps behind him, then he saw her rounding him to place her hands on his chest, her touch moved him to cover her hands with his. “I think it’s time you talked to your parents and found out for yourself just how wrong you’ve been about things these past years.” She pressed to her toes and kissed him. “It’s time you see the man I see.”

  “What man is that? One who can’t even take a test without panicking? One who can’t get a job without the help of his friend? One who—”

  “Seriously, self-doubt is not a good look on you.” She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him. “You have to stop thinking like this, stop feeling like you don’t have what it takes to succeed.” She met his gaze. “You do. I’m astounded by the man you are. Your heart is filled with a kindness you can’t fake, and you have strength enough to reach out and ask a friend for help when you need it. It takes a strong, courageous man to do that.”

  He cupped her face. “I do like it when you talk that way about me.”

  She nuzzled against the palm of his hand. “I’ll gladly do it every day, if you let me.”

  He chuckled. “That would mean you’d need to see me every day.”

  “I’ve dreamed of nothing more.”

  He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, his heart beating faster. “I want you,” he whispered.

  She covered his hand with hers, holding his gaze. “I’ll figure something out. I’ll find a new job.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want you to do that. You were at Iron Horse long before me. If anyone leaves, it will be me.”

  She smiled. “There’s that kind and loving heart again, always putting me first.”

  One corner of his mouth curled upward. “I can’t help it. I’m in love with you.”

  She gasped, her eyes widening as he spoke the words he’d long to for what felt like an eternity. “You love me?”

  “How could I not? You were willing to climb into my truck not knowing how I was going to treat you, what I was going to say.”

  “I had to be there for you.” She shrugged. “That’s all that mattered to me.”

  He pressed his lips to hers. “And that’s why I love you. You’re what I need, what I’ve been waiting my whole life to find.” He kissed her again. “When my father is well again, I’m going to talk with Jason. We’ll figure something out. I don’t care what. I just don’t want you to walk away from me again
. Not over a job.”

  Her eyes glistened. “Are you sure? We could just keep things a secret again.”

  “No more secrets.” He pulled her against him, placing his chin on the top of her head. “Never again.”

  “Does this mean I don’t have to stay in the guest room?”

  He laughed, easing back to look at her. “From now on, you stay with me.”

  She pressed to her toes and kissed him. “I like the way you think.”

  “Good.” He squeezed her shoulders. “Wait here.” He left and returned moments later carrying her duffle bag. He placed it on the floor next to his. “Let’s take a shower and get to bed. We have an early day tomorrow.”

  After their shower, she crawled into bed with him and snuggled close. He’d missed this—the warmth, the scent, the feeling in his heart he experienced when she was near him. This was what he needed tonight. Tomorrow, he’d face his father and he needed to see the look in her eyes—the one that said he could move mountains—to remind him that he was enough.

  Even if only to her.

  Chapter Ten

  Layton pressed herself against Jaxson’s side, cradling so closely she could feel each and every breath he took as if they were her own. Even the steady beat of his heart joined with hers into a lulling slumber. But when he brushed his fingers through her hair and caressed the side of her face, her eyes opened to drink him in once more.

  The early rays of sunlight flickered into the room, alarming her to the need to get the day started. A nervous jolt sank to her stomach as she recalled their conversation from the night before. Jaxson had a twin brother who died. A sadness eclipsed her as she considered how terrible Jaxson’s childhood must’ve been growing up with the guilt he clung to, thinking his father would’ve preferred Jefferson over him.

  A ridiculous notion—one he needs to relinquish.

  With her arm draped over his chest, she squeezed a little tighter. Her need to hold him and show him how much she loved him stole her breath away.

  “We have to get going,” he whispered, his fingers gliding softly over the skin of her cheek.

  “I know,” she muttered, pressing soft kisses to his chest. “I just need a few minutes to get dressed.”

  “Did you want something to eat before we head to the hospital?”

  “No. I’ll get a coffee there.”

  He rounded the bed and caught her hand in his. They locked eyes. “Better yet, let me treat you to a coffee from the little shop up the street. It’s guaranteed to taste better than the stuff served at the hospital.”

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them, his gaze was still on her. Then he smiled and her heart fluttered wildly. When he bent down and grabbed his duffle bag and tossed it onto the bed, she couldn’t stop staring. He was divine. From his physical strength to his caring and loving heart.

  He glanced. “Are you all right?”

  Busted ogling.

  Her face grew hot and she cleared her throat. “I am now.”

  She sprang for the bathroom. Closing the door, she pressed her back against it. Catching her breath, she smiled staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were rosy pink, her eyes bright. Jaxson did that to her. He was the warmth she clung to, the heart she needed, the temptation she desired. How grateful she was that he’d been there when she needed him.

  Now it’s my turn.

  She washed her face, brushed her teeth and hair, and dressed. When she finished and darted into the kitchen, she saw Jaxson standing at the kitchen sink. He wore dusty brown cowboy boots, light denim jeans, a dark gray T-shirt, and he’d taken the time to shave his face and head. Jaxson could pull of a hard-edged look and break it the second he looked at her and smiled. She melted.

  His gaze was locked on something out the kitchen window. She moved up beside him, staring out in the same direction. The sun was rising, leaving rays of bursting gold and orange light streaming across the fields beyond the tree where Jaxson parked his truck the night before.

  “From the time we were four, Jefferson used to climb that tree every chance he got. He jumped from the highest branch he could reach and broke his arm.” He chuckled. “Mom was so pissed. I remember her yelling at him, asking why he did it. His answer had been”—he eyed her—“I wanted to.”

  “Sounds like he was a daredevil.”

  “He was.” He slanted her with a soft look. “He used to call me chicken. I never wanted to do any of the things he did.” He sighed. “I was too scared.”

  Knowing that guilt hid behind his words, she said, “Me, too. I was never one for fast things, high things, or dangerous things. Safe was better.”

  He faced her, and to her surprise he laughed. “This coming from the girl who lived with a hooker.”

  She poked him in the ribs. “Don’t judge.”

  He caught her hand and held it. “Never.”

  For a long moment, they stared into each other’s eyes. Her heart had never been so full. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, reminding her that they needed to get moving. His father waited.

  “We should get going,” she reminded him.

  They left the ranch, and as promised, he stopped to get them coffee from the sweetest little store she’d ever seen. The storefront sold trinkets, wind chimes, and candles, but the second they opened the door, the combined scents of coffee and chocolate engulfed them. She had to admit that it was the best tasting coffee she’d ever had. Most likely because she shared it with him.

  The hospital did not have the same scent, or offer the warm feel as the coffee shop did. Her chest tightened as Jaxson squeezed her hand. If she was overcome with unease, he must’ve been bursting at the seams.

  He sought out the reception desk and asked where he could find his father. Getting the directions, he led them to his father’s room. The sounds of buzzing, beeping, and vacuum noises surrounded them as they stalked down the fluorescent yellow light enriched hallways. Jaxson’s grip intensified as they reached room number twelve. The door was partially closed. He pressed the palm of his hand onto the oak finished door and opened it, pulling her inside the room with him. There was no sitting this one out. He needed her and she had no plans to be anywhere else.

  She felt Jaxson’s anxiety compound with her own—her breathing shallow, her chest squeezing tight. But when he released her hand to hug a dark-haired older woman, she eased a little.

  Jaxson’s mom.

  * * * *

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Jaxson’s mother whispered. “He’s still sleeping, but doing better.”

  Jaxson eased back to meet his mother’s tired gaze. “I’m glad to hear it. Has he woken up at all?”

  She nodded. “It would seem that the bump on his head hasn’t stopped his midnight snack cravings.”

  Jaxson grinned. His father was infamous for sneaking slices of his mother homemade pies and desserts. The next morning when everyone woke up, he’d blame the food disappearance on pesky garden gnomes.

  “That’s a good sign.”

  She rubbed Jaxson’s shoulders. “It is.” She turned toward Layton. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Mom, this is my friend Layton.”

  She reached out her hand. “Hi, Layton.”

  “Mrs. Winters. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Please, call me Judy.”

  His mother and Layton’s voice faded into the background of his thoughts as he gazed over at his father. He looked peaceful and well, except for the white bandage around his head. “Mom, how long will dad have to stay here?”

  “Doctor said a few days. He had a good night, so I’m hoping that means it will be sooner rather than later.”

  He nodded, feeling the load of worry he carried in his chest lessen a bit. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

  “Jaxson,” Layton called to him. “I could use another coffee.”

  He turned to take her, but she pressed her hand to his shoulder to stop him. “S
pend some time with your father. I can find my way.”

  He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “I could use one, too,” his mom said.

  Layton smiled and heard her ask his mother if the coffee was any good as they stepped from the room. Jaxson returned his attention back to his father, moving around the bed to sit beside him.

  “Hi, Dad,” he said. “I hear you had an accident. Anyone ever told you that you don’t have to try and be Superman?”

  His father shifted on the bed, his eyes flickering open. “I can still dream.”

  Jaxson’s heart fluttered at the sound of his father’s voice, thankful that he had the chance to hear it once again. “You gave Mom quit the scare, you know?”

  He laughed softly. “It wasn’t my intention.”

  His father tried to adjust himself in the bed and Jaxson stood, helping him. He moved a few pillows down behind his father’s head and back and propped the bed up until he was comfortable.

  “Are you all right?”

  “That’s a loaded question, son.”

  Jaxson glared. “Are you going to be all right?”

  His father reached out and Jaxson took his hand, sitting down in the chair once more. “I hope so. My head’s still a little fuzzy, but I’m awake, so that’s got to be a good thing, right?”

  Jaxson’s jaw tightened. He was no doctor. He could bandage up flesh wounds, but knew nothing of head trauma. “What happened?”

  “A few days before my fall, we had a bad storm come through. It tore a few shingles off the house and barn. I tried to fix it and slipped.”

  Guilt sank into the pit of his stomach. Had he been home to help his father, he could’ve saved him from hurting himself.

  “If it hadn’t been for the hay pile alongside the barn, I’m sure I would’ve broken something.”

  “Besides your head?”

  His father chuckled. “Yep.”

  “Dad, you should’ve called. I would’ve come back to help you. I would’ve called—”