Sixteen years.
That's how long it had been since I'd laid eyes on Gene Carlin. More than sixteen years since my nightmare had begun. Less than sixteen seconds for it all to come rushing back to me.
I felt like shit leaving Grace behind that way, but I couldn't sit there, watching Gene talk about supporting teenagers and their needs. What the fuck did he know about it?
So, I sat here instead, in my cold, sterile condo well into my third glass of bourbon. I slouched lower into my chair, rolling up my sleeves. I pulled at the bow at my neck and let it dangle from my fingers.
I stared at my surroundings, seeing them through different eyes. I once took pride in the clean, contemporary lines and the leather and glass surfaces. Now I only saw stark and unbendable. One wrong move and anything could crack or look out of place. Much like my life. Tonight proved that.
Thanks to the color that Grace had brought into my life, I now hated my own home. I hated how it looked rigid and lacked warmth. What did it matter if it was clean of fingerprints or scratches? Those only showed that someone had been there, cared enough to stay and be at home. Like Grace's place with its worn furniture that had been loved and passed down from family, the colorful objects scattered across the rooms, jackets and shoes left to lay rather than rigidly put into their place in the closet. Even the random gum wrapper recklessly tossed on the coffee table. It wasn't messy, but it was lived in; a place that showed people wanted to be there.
My phone chimed. I ignored it, figuring it to be Grace again. I knew she was worried, but I didn't want her to see this version of me. Around her, I felt like a new improved version, but once glance at Gene Carlin and the old, closed version was back in place.
There was a knock at the door, but I didn't move. It was probably Grace. She was the kind to leave her event to check on me. Other women I'd dated would tell me to call them when I felt better. Not Grace. I knew she'd want to nurture and fuss. Her caring personality was one of the things I liked most about her.
The phone and door sounded again, this time in stereo. I picked up my phone to turn it off. If someone needed me for something work-related, they would just have to sort it out for themselves. However, it wasn’t Grace’s name that lit up the latest notification. Reluctantly, I opened it.
Noah: Open your damn door, asshole.
I shook my head. I didn’t need his input either. No matter how much he thought he knew.
Noah: You should know by now I’m not going away.
I knew better than to think he was bluffing. Noah had more grit and determination than most. It was something I admired about him, except when he butted into my business. I finished my drink and got to my feet. Carelessly, I unlocked the door without opening it, then dragged my feet back to my chair, grabbing the bottle of bourbon on my way.
I heard the door open and close over the clinking of the bottle against my glass. Deliberately, I sat the bottle on the glass table rather than the silver tray. Not like there was anyone who would give a shit if it left a mark.
"Might as well go home, Noah. I don't feel like company tonight," I slurred.
"Good thing I'm not Noah, then."
I froze in place as the softness of Grace’s voice wrapped around me like a velvet blanket. Mentally, I shook it off. Not turning around, I answered her softly. "I never labeled you as the deceptive type."
"Desperate times call for desperate measures. If it makes you feel better, Noah didn't want to go along at first."
I drained my glass, hoping the numbness would kick it soon.
"Go home, Grace."
"No."
Finally, I turned to face her. She was still dressed in her gown, her heels dangling from her fingers and lines of worry puckered between her eyes. She was the only splash of color in my black and white living space, the only one in my black and white life. "This isn't a good time. I'll call you tomorrow."
She walked two steps closer and almost took a third, but hesitated. "No. I'm afraid that's not good enough."
"Grace..."
"No, Jax. You push people away all the time. And worse, they let you. I'm not going to. Even if you don't want to tell me what happened tonight, I'm not leaving you."
I threw my hands in the air. "Why are you being so stubborn?"
"Why are you?" she shot back.
"Because I don't want you here. Because I don't want you to see how fucked up I am, okay? Just go." I saw the look of devastation cross her face. I whirled back to my chair, gripping the table top to anchor me from taking her in my arms and apologizing for causing her pain. But if she stayed, she'd only see how much worse I was. I waited for the door to open and close so that I could breathe again.
But there was no click, just the swish of material as it glided across the hardwoods. Gentle arms slid around my waist and locked in place, and her head rested between my shoulder blades. "Whatever it is, you're not alone, Jax. I'm here."
A shudder ripped through me. "I'm here," she whispered again.
I grasped her hands on my stomach like a drowning man, because that's what I was. Drowning in the overwhelming flood of emotions. "Grace. I don't...I can't..." I sighed. "You should leave. You deserve so much more than what I can give you."
Her arms dropped, and I immediately wanted to beg her to ignore everything I just said, but I couldn't. I closed my eyes until I felt warmth shimmy its way between me and the table. Soft hands held my face. I blinked, and there she was, tears on the verge of overflowing her beautiful blue eyes.
"I'm here, Jax. I'm not leaving you. Believe in me. Believe in us. Believe in more, because that’s what you are to me."
I think my soul was ripped from me at that moment, nourished in the love that flowed from her words, and was reborn inside of me. All the rules, all the straight lines, all the black and white—they all bent, cracked, and disappeared behind a burst of color and warmth.
Starved for the more she promised, I slammed my lips to hers. Not gentle or sweet, but desperate. I sank to my knees, literally. She followed along, her mouth never leaving mine. I found the zipper to her dress and soon the material puddled around her waist. I deftly found the clasp to her bra and drew the thin straps down her arms. Only as soon as her breasts were free did I wrench my mouth from hers to fasten on to them, sucking and nipping the dusky pink nipples. She arched back in the circle of my arms, cradling my head and holding it tight to her.
More. We'd said this word many times, only this time it resonated from my head down into my heart, where it burrowed and found a home. Was it possible? She wasn't like any woman I'd ever known, and I fucking wanted her as mine. Only mine. Like the selfish bastard I am, I wanted to mark her. Possess her. Ruin her for anyone else. And in doing so, saving myself.
Her hands wrestled their way to my shirt trying to unbutton it. I sat up, holding her gaze. I grasped the shirt and yanked, pearl buttons flying everywhere as she helped to shove it from my shoulders. Then she tore at the button at my pants while I shoved her dress over her hips. Finesse wasn't present, just raw need. I swiped a finger through her folds to make sure I wouldn't hurt her, but as usual, she was already wet. My cock lined up between her legs, poised and eager. She panted beneath me, her legs drawn up, ready to receive me.
I looked into her eyes, and what was looking back at me through hers almost undid me right there. Lust. Sincerity. Love. "I'm here," she whispered.
And that finished the job.
I thrust into her warm heat. It surrounded my cock in the same way her presence surrounded me. I started to close my eyes, desperately seeking to hold on to some level of control. But when I felt her hands cup my face as her legs wrapped around my waist, I opened them. I thought to lean down and kiss her while I rocked into her, but she held her arms firm, keeping my face tilted toward her as she arched upward, pulling me even further into her tightness.
It had never been like this before—me taking. Receiving. Anything Grace was willing to give me I greedily accepted. No words were exchanged. Th
ey weren’t needed; not this time. Because she was here.
I withdrew and pushed forward as deep as I could, never looking away from her eyes with each thrust. I rocked my hips into her, not bothering to take my time. I could tell she was right there with me. Her mouth dropped open and my head lowered closer, but still we never looked away from each other until the pleasure barreled on us with a voraciousness that left us both gasping until we cried each other's names. Only as I exploded into her did I finally close my eyes. Her sweet, tight pussy squeezed my cock
When my surroundings righted themselves, I found myself collapsed against her. Her legs were still wrapped around me as were her arms.
I knew then I didn't want more.
I wanted it all.
31
Grace
Jax rolled to his side. I was instantly chilled both inside and out, scared he was pulling away from me again. But he remained next to me. He traced his fingers over my face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. You deserve better than a fast fuck on a hard floor. Are you okay?"
I leaned up on my elbow, so I was facing him. I kissed his finger when it strayed toward my mouth.
Then I balled up my fist and hit him. I'm pretty sure my hand hurt more than his arm full of muscle, but he got the point. Sort of.
"Ow!" His face registered his shock. "What was that for?" I reached for his shirt and stood, pulling it on. I had to hold the material together with my hands since the buttons were scattered across his floor.
"That's for apologizing! Why do you keep focusing on what you think I deserve?" I stomped my foot. "Did you think that was a solo act just now?"
He started to smirk but wisely concealed it when he saw my look of anger. He grabbed his pants and was in the process of pulling them on when I advanced on him, poking his chest. "I wanted that, too, Jaxson Carter. Did it ever occur to you that I'm willing to take whatever you're willing to give? That maybe I don't always want to be treated like a fragile flower?"
"I—"
“I don’t care if it’s during sex or if there’s something else bothering you. Like tonight. Even if you don’t tell me what happened, don’t shut me out. Let me be here for you.”
He bowed his head. Were we back to where we were when I arrived? I twisted the hem of his shirt contemplating where to go. How did I fight for us when he wouldn’t let me in? I contemplated hitting him again, but my hand still ached from the last time.
“I know Gene Carlin.”
I looked across the room to see him sitting on the edge of the couch. His pants were unbuttoned, and his hair was still mussed. He looked incredibly sexy, except for the strained look on his face.
“You do? How?”
He leaned forward on his elbows. He cocked his head and stared at the floor. “He was my stepfather. For almost two years.”
For a change, I was speechless. Jax had never mentioned that his mother remarried.
“It was just a shock to see him tonight. I didn’t know he lived here.”
“You don’t stay in touch?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry. What happened?”
“Don’t be. And let’s just say it worked out better for everyone when the marriage dissolved. Seeing him just brought back some unpleasant memories.”
That was a little puzzling to me. Jax’s mama seemed so warm and friendly, and Dr. Carlin had always come across quiet to me, but no matter the circumstances, I supposed divorce was never pleasant. And who knew what happened behind closed doors; sometimes people brought out the worst in each other. I had a feeling there was more to the story, but I decided not to push it. Jax was obviously not used to opening up to people, and this was a big first step for him.
“Thank you for telling me. Maybe next time I won’t have to hit you so hard.” I fisted one hand into the palm of my other.
This time, he couldn't hide his grin. "I gotta say, this feisty side is kind of a turn-on. Let's go to bed."
"Jax!"
He blew out a long breath. "I'm trying, Grace. I've never cared what anyone I dated thought of me before. They could take me or leave me. I didn't care. I've already told you you're different. You matter. I care what you think. I don't want you to see the ugly side of me, of my past because..."
I held my breath when he hesitated. "Because why?"
His expression was urgent. "Because I don't want to lose you. I can't. It's like I've spent most of my life wearing dark sunglasses. And then you came along and removed them . Suddenly everything's brighter and a rainbow of color. And now, no matter how hard I try, I can't put those damn glasses back on.
"But my past isn't bright. It's dark and ugly, but it's shaped me into the person I am." He drew me close. "I'm sorry I shut you out tonight. I'm so used to only depending on myself. It was easy to slip into old habits. I'm not used to someone fighting for me."
"Well, that's what a person does when they love someone." I froze. I hadn't meant to say that.
He went still. "What?"
I panicked. I'd said too much and pushed too far. "I mean, when you care, you fight for someone."
"That isn't what you said, Grace."
"I...I..."
"Say it again."
I shook my head, but his grip tightened.
"I'm falling hard for you, Jax. I know it's too soon, and that long-term relationships scare you, but it just happened. I'm—"
I was cut off when his lips dipped to mine. "One more time."
Not saying it didn’t make it any less true. I went for broke. "I love you, Jax."
He closed his eyes and shuddered in my arms. I heard a catch in his voice as he whispered, "I’m falling, too. But it’s not hard and fast.”
My heart gave a leap, but from happiness or discouragement, I wasn’t sure. “It’s okay, Jax. You don’t have to reply the same way. I knew it was too early to tell you. I mean, I know this is all new for you, and I’m just glad you were willing to…”
He was smiling and shaking his head against mine. “Are you done?”
I gave him a sheepish nod.
“I’m not very good with words, so I’m not explaining myself right. Hard and fast would only push me away. Instead, with you, it’s slow and gentle, secure but not restrictive. I’m enjoying the same fall, Grace, so much I’m not sure I ever want to land. I know I'm not very good at it, but if you'll be patient with me, I promise—"
Tears streamed down my face. "You're perfect." And then we were kissing again, sweetly exploring this newly confessed emotion. He lifted me into his arms and started to carry me toward his bedroom.
"Wait," I whispered. "I need my purse." With a puzzled look, he leaned toward the table so that I could pull my phone out of my clutch. I turned it off, then dropped it back on the table. "No cock-blocking tonight."
He laughed. "Good thinking. I hope no one expects to hear from you the rest of the weekend."
He continued into his bedroom where he set me on my feet, his shirt falling from me with the movement. "You're so beautiful," he praised as his eyes slowly moved all over me and then returned to my face. "I’m here, too, Grace. Not perfectly, but completely. And I'm going to spend the rest of the night showing you."
"Then you better get started."
By the time I fell into an exhausted, but satisfied, sleep, I don’t think there was an inch of my body that Jax hadn’t tried to convince.
32
Grace
Faith elbowed me, cutting off my yawn.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, blinking hard and sitting up straight. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I could really use a caffeine IV drip!
“You must be exhausted.” She kept her voice low since we were sitting in church waiting for the service to begin. “But for what it’s worth, I thought the carnival yesterday was amazing. Caleb had a fantastic time.”
I smiled. “I’m so glad,” I whispered back.
“It was really sweet of Jax to spend so much time with him and to treat him to so many games and sweets. I can’t
believe Caleb didn’t go home with a tummy ache. He fell asleep before I could even get his teeth brushed.”
Good thing Adam wasn’t in town yesterday or that would have never happened. But I bit my tongue. Faith didn’t need me to point out the obvious.
I’d seen my nephew yesterday while I was working at a booth alongside Micah. I’d been listening to the suddenly vocal preteen ramble on about working in Jax’s office.
I think I met my match in talking nonstop! Remembering the sullen, quiet kid he was a couple of months ago, it was hard to reconcile this was the same child. The man who said he wouldn’t be a good role model had certainly made a difference in this young man’s life.
“How much longer do I have to stay here, Miss Grace? Even after working off what I owed Jax, I still have money! He’s so cool to work for! Did I tell you he showed me how to draw a building so it looks more real? Did you know how much planning goes into building something? Like all the pipes for bathrooms and wires for all the lights? And I got to see what all the plans look like on his computer. He can make it all three dimensional, did you know that? I think I might want to be an architect when I grow up!”
I glanced at the volunteer sheet. “You have about forty more minutes before Ethan is scheduled.”
“But that’s forever!”
I smiled as I accepted a little girl’s tickets to play. Teenage time was certainly an exaggerated version of real time. “You’ll live.”
“Auntie Ger-ace!”
I’d know that voice anywhere. In Caleb’s effort to pronounce the “r” in my name, it often came out more like “grr.” I thought it was cute, and I would pretend to growl and snap at him like a tiger, always making him laugh.
I searched the crowds for my nephew. I found Faith first. I was surprised to see her walking next to Jax, and even more astounded to see my nephew riding high on Jax’s shoulders. Caleb was laughing as he held onto Jax’s shoulders.
They looked like a happy family. For a second, I felt an unfamiliar tug of jealousy. Not because I was worried my sister was trying to take anything away from me. I just wanted to trade places with her. Watching them, I realized how much I wanted that scenario to be real—for me, specifically for Jax and me.
Against the Rules (Harts of Passion Book 1) Page 25
