What if he had already overstepped some unknown boundaries? Jaxon had only referred to her as his assistant over the phone the week before. And she had had plenty of opportunities to declare any claim his cousin might have on her. She hadn’t done that. But he could see that there was a connection between the two.
He thought about why he was even on this trip. His older cousin was doing him a favor, fulfilling a promise he had made a couple years earlier to get him in touch with some west coast contacts who might be interested in helping him expand his family’s woodworking business. While his dad and uncle were happy to keep things local, Lucky wanted more. He was thirty-two years old and had begun to have thoughts of branching out. He had no way of knowing that Trista would be part of the deal.
She slid their joined hands down a few inches to just above her knee, so his touch no longer rested so high on her thigh. The action seemed to have come just as he’d thought about hers and Jaxon’s status. He sat up straighter, wondering if it was just a coincidence.
As if on cue, she asked, “So, I was wondering, how exactly are you and Jaxon related? I mean, I know you’re cousins.”
So she wanted to include Jaxon in their conversation. He answered her but found it difficult to explain. He could guess why Jaxon hadn’t told her before. “Our fathers are brothers.”
“That’s right, you said that. And that Jaxon uses his stepdad’s last name. Hmm, I always just figured Cole was his father. Do you know what happened to his biological dad?”
He did know. But he was sure Jaxon hadn’t spoken about it for a reason.
Besides, being out on the open road had him way more in the mood to relive the private nighttime thoughts he’d had since sleeping in Trista’s bed at her Gramma’s. Lord forgive him for being so horny all of a sudden, but he couldn’t help himself when it came to her. She’d looked so inviting in her short white nightgown with her knees peeking out from under the hem, standing in the doorway, telling him to sleep tight. Her cute curvy ass had been the last thing he’d seen each night and it had left him aching to follow her and her painted toes out to the couch.
Trista had a way of not making him feel like a pervert for watching her, unlike his last girlfriend. If Trista had any idea of the things he’d imagined doing with her, she hadn’t let on about it. What he’d give to have her back home in his own bedroom. They’d slow dance to the sound of the crickets in the nearby creek while he explored the curves her loose fitting dresses and jammies hinted at whenever she sat up real straight and the fabric fell smoothly against one of her perky breasts. If she’d let him, they’d leave the lights on while he slipped her dress over her head and then made his way down her body, soothing and taking his time with his fingers, his mouth, and his tongue. He’d stop to hold her firmly in his hands as he turned her to admire his favorite place on a woman, her full, round bottom and then he’d…
“Lucky?” Apparently, he’d drifted off to his bedroom for too long because she took her hand off the wheel to poke him. “Can you tell me about Jaxon’s real father?”
He wished he could change the subject but then it would be obvious he was dodging her and he had his own questions about why Trista hadn’t mentioned her parents very much. Maybe if he trusted her with his family’s secrets, she would oblige him in return.
“I do know. But I’ve got to say, I’m sure Jaxon would have told you by now if he wanted you to know.”
Her face crumpled at his answer. Did she really believe Jaxon had no secrets?
Then softly, she said, “Lucky, it’s okay. I understand about—that stuff.”
He had sensed something from her mood swings Friday night. “What stuff, Trista?”
It would have been nice had she not needed to keep her eyes on the road, or if he’d been clever enough to hold this conversation off until they’d arrived at the hotel.
She surprised him with an answer; her hands appeared steady enough on the steering wheel. “Things from our past that we’re afraid will make us look like less of a person in someone else’s eyes.”
Maybe Jaxon had told her a little.
* * * *
She couldn’t believe the things Jaxon had never told her. Lucky’s tidbits turned into a long enough conversation that the sun set ahead of them, reaching and surpassing the western mountains on the horizon, leaving the sky dark and the air chilly.
“Jaxon wasn’t born in Australia. He only moved there when he was two years old, after his mother left my uncle.” The first truth Lucky leaked had been done with a bit of caution.
But that one opening statement led to an exhaustive session that Trista didn’t let end until she’d learned the truth about her best friend. Apparently, his mother had been fifteen when she became pregnant by Bear Mason, Lucky’s uncle, who had been twenty at the time. Lucky assured her that the two had been in love, although her parents had wanted to have Uncle Bear thrown in jail for statutory rape. Bear had started working for Lucky’s father in his spare time, trying to save up some money for when the baby came. But all that time spent away had left holes in the relationship and Jaxon’s mother met and fell for an Australian businessman who owned some local mills in the area and who was equally smitten with her.
She had been surprised to hear that Jaxon’s Aussie stepfather, the man she knew to be Cole James, hadn’t been sore about his sweetheart being pregnant with another man’s child.
“So what happened?” she asked, not sure when Lucky would feel he’d said too much and clam up.
“I guess he obviously was serious about her and was determined to wait. Jaxon was born and she stuck around with Uncle Bear until she was eighteen. As soon as that happened, Mr. James came over and married her. Things were legal and the three of them moved to Australia.”
“Damn. Well, didn’t Jaxon’s father fight her for custody?”
“No, Trista, he didn’t. What Uncle Bear knew of Mr. James was that he had enough money to take care of Jaxon’s mother and the baby. Life with him in Tennessee would have been hard. He let them go because he thought it was the best he could do. His pride was pretty wounded at that point.”
“So Jaxon never knew about his father?” He’d always been pretty tight lipped when it came to talk of family except to say his dad lived in Australia and there were a few relatives in the States but were pretty distant at that. She’d always just figured he’d been trying to be sensitive about her own family situation and so she’d never pushed it on him. It wasn’t like she had anyone besides Gramma left in her life to talk about, so she understood.
“No, he didn’t know. Not until his mother died. He was sixteen and Mr. James finally told him the truth. I guess he must have felt guilty for keeping up the lie for so long.”
Lucky went on to tell her that when Jaxon’s mother passed away, Mr. James paid to fly him back to Tennessee, to his real family. They were all there waiting at the airport when he arrived—six year old Lucky, his dad and Uncle Bear, the Mason men.
Satisfied with her new knowledge that explained a lot about Jaxon, she found herself curious to know more about her companion. “What about your mother, Lucky?” Her name hadn’t come up but she remembered his comment about her eyes. What she remembered even more was the way Lucky’s bright smile had darkened so quickly.
His eyes closed just long enough to let her know it would not be a happy tale. “She passed away when I was small.”
“I’m so sorry, Lucky.” Her heart going out to him, she watched peripherally, as he stretched his long fingers and then ran them down the buttons of his shirt, fingering each one as he went. Even in this moment of sympathy, she wished she’d made a dress with buttons down the front so she could feel his fingertips pushing gently into her skin, traveling over her chest and tummy as he worked to unfasten her. Maybe Lucky needed a distraction just as much as she did. No matter if it was only for tonight, she found herself wanting to soothe this man and be soothed by him in return. If he’d just let his moral guard down for more than a few minutes,
she’d take those fingers and show him exactly where and how to touch her. The intimacy could do them both some good.
She wondered how and when he had lost his mom but knew better than to ask him about it now. Losing her momma at a young age had been world-shattering and she didn’t need to ask to know everything he was feeling. In Lucky’s remorseful stare, she knew she’d made the right call. “I’m really sorry for bringing it up.”
“No, it’s okay. But, uh, what were we talking about?” He ran a hand over his tightly fastened hair and looped his thumb around the tail in back, tugging at it several times.
“So—Jaxon, he started Sin Pointe when he was a teenager. I guess that’s when he must have left you all,” she offered, trying to re-start their conversation.
“Yep.” The indifference in his voice was plain, easily readable. He looked down to his lap and his hands. She could see he was about ready to be done with the discussion.
“And did you guys keep in touch after he left?”
“Not too much. Every once in a while he’d give us a call. I had a lot going on then and didn’t think about him too much once he was gone.” Uncharacteristically, his brow arched and his lips pursed.
Trista was immediately attuned to his reaction. She tried to poke at him with a little humor to bring back his warmth and cheerfulness, his smile that glowed in the moonlight. “So how in the world did you know about all of this anyway? You were so young.”
“Yeah, well, at the shop—three guys working in close quarters all day—you hear things, stories of old.”
She was sure he was done but he turned to her, even as he tried to inch back as far as he could against his passenger side door, and asked, “So hey, with all this talk about Jaxon, I was kind of wondering what exactly the relationship is between the two of you? If I’m stepping over any lines, I need to know now, Trista.”
She scratched at her forehead. “We’re close, but not like what you’re asking. I’ve lived and worked with him since I was sixteen. I’ll be thirty-two this year.” She couldn’t believe she’d known the man that long. Not only known him, but been through so much with him. If Lucky wanted to know the whole truth, she was probably closer to him than she would have been had they been lovers. The absence of that type of physical relationship left all the more room for the things they did share. The heartache and the happiness. The struggle and the relief. The loyalty. But Lucky probably worried about other things. And she could understand his hesitancy.
“You lived with him?” he asked.
“Yes, and it is possible to live with a man and not sleep with him.”
“I didn’t ask you that.” He looked down.
“But didn’t you?” She gave a small humph and was about to explain in more detail when he asked her if they could find a place to stop. He said he needed to use the restroom but he looked like he needed more than the few feet of space separating them in the Jeep. Five quiet miles later, she threw on her blinker to exit the freeway.
The Quick ‘n’ Grab filling station was the only option in no-man’s land, where Trista had decided to pull off. She sat while Lucky silently pumped the gas.
Her head sweating along the hairline, she leaned out her window, wanting to get this over with. “Look, I know it’s hard to understand, especially with Jaxon. He’s a very…carnal being and living in the room next to him was an education for me. But that’s all it was. He took me under his wing at a very crucial time in my life. He got me a job with the band. We were roommates for a good seven, eight years. Then he met Vangie, had a baby, and I moved out.”
“You sound bitter about that. Did you have different hopes for things?” Lucky stared at the pump as the numbers ticked sluggishly.
“You mean hopes for me and Jaxon?”
“Yeah.”
“No, not like that. I wanted Jaxon to be happy. At first I thought he had found it. But, well, it just hasn’t worked out that way.” She waited but Lucky didn’t respond.
He jiggled and then hung up the nozzle. His shirt sleeves were still hiked up to his elbows and she decided then and there he had the sexiest forearms she’d ever seen. He tucked the receipt into his pants pocket and came around to re-enter the Jeep but then asked if he could drive. “Sure.” They switched places. She’d let it be for now.
“You ready, darlin’?” When he looked at her, she could see the blood shot of his eyes and the heaviness of his lids. He must be desperate to be in control with his offer to drive. Something she completely understood and appreciated. The whole darlin’ thing? Not so much. But it did make her toes curl a little each time he said it.
“You call me that and I feel like I’m in another world, one where I’m to be the proper lady and you the unquestionable gentleman. Not really in league with how I’ve acted so far around you.”
“There’s still a little proper country girl in you. A little inhibition, holding you by the toes. You haven’t let it all go by the wayside.”
“How can you see that?”
“I’ve been lookin’.” He in fact looked over at her just when a large semi blurred past them, causing him to swerve. “Shit! Sorry, pardon my language.”
“Lucky, there are a few things you should know about me. One, I’ve been on the road for months at a time with a bunch of horny guys. I’ve heard their stories about getting all sorts of favors performed backstage. I’ve had to live in very close quarters with them which means I‘ve even seen ‘em naked. So please don’t feel the need to apologize for your language. You can’t offend me. It’s not possible.” She folded her arms across her chest, glad they weren’t harnessed to the steering wheel anymore.
“Well, if it’s all the same, do you think you could just humor me and accept my lame apologies?”
“You’re not lame. You’re awful sweet, though, and I’m sure I’ve already offended you plenty.” Her tongue working so hard and fast against his that first night flickered like a burning sash around her thoughts. He had allowed her to release that fierceness after only having known her a few hours. He could claim the title all he wanted but underneath the southern gentleman, there had to be a man who wanted her. That hope knocked the air out of her.
“Shocked, yes. Offended, not hardly. Remember, I am a guy and I wouldn’t pretend to be anything else.”
“Good.” She grew quiet, knowing that in five more hours, they could be sharing a hotel room. And she would be preparing to deal with something much more base and demanding than the light space their talk currently occupied.
Had she been on this trip with Jaxon, as originally planned, things would have been very similar to what they were now. Jaxon would most likely be riding passenger as he hated driving long distances. He’d use the time to tease her, tell her of his latest escapades both musically and sexually, just to see how she’d react. He’d needle her until she reached over and punched him in the shoulder. But he’d be doing it all as a distraction because he knew why they were headed to Oklahoma.
Once at the hotel, he’d get them a room with one bed because he liked the king-size mattresses and when it came time to sleep, he’d hold her as he often had done in the past, before Vangie and even afterwards when it was just the two of them and when she couldn’t sleep. He’d sing her a soft lullaby and chase her demons away so she could rest. That’s what Jaxon, her best friend, would have done for her.
Had she made this trip alone, she would have driven herself the ten hours from Gramma’s to Duketown, probably going over all the reasons she had compiled as to why this was finally what she had to do.
There would be mental cursing at the selfishness on Vangie’s part, forcing her to face it alone, but she would handle it and make due. She’d get herself a single occupant room, opting for the smallest mattress possible. Even at that, she’d end up on the tiny, two-person sofa that many rooms had. She wouldn’t want to feel the extra space—reminding her she had come alone—without a friend, without support. She’d lay in the dark and debate if she could take the steps t
hrough the town that had harbored the stylus of her pain all these years.
And now, here she was with this new arrangement. The one Jaxon had offered her, feeling more and more like a backup plan of his than anything else. A way to ease his guilt about sending her off on her own. A substitute for a promise he had made and not kept. This was her dark alley, her sleazy private room upstairs from the club below. Like the places she had rescued Jaxon from, this was somewhere she didn’t know if she could stand alone.
A week ago, she had only had to wrap her mind around the fact that Jaxon wouldn’t be there, holding her hand, standing in her corner. Now, the day before the storm was to hit, she found herself in the company of a good person, but a stranger nonetheless. Her mind was so preoccupied with how to deal with that that she didn’t hear Lucky’s question, hadn’t even known he was speaking to her until he squeezed her hand.
“I’m sorry, did you say something?” she asked.
The twisting of his mouth signaled his reluctance.
She had missed something.
The black and red of his shirt matched his mood now, no longer contrasting the cool quality with which he sat and spoke. His eyes tunneled in on hers and then quickly returned to the road.
What had she done? Lucky’s entire body stiffened, seemingly on full alert. Before he spoke, he shifted his hips in the driver seat and cleared his throat.
“It was nothing. You’re probably tired. I’ll wake you up when we get there, okay?”
Sidewalk Flower Page 5
