The Right Stud

by Ilsa Madden-Mills

  “I let myself in.” Ben is dressed in a sharp navy suit with a perfectly coordinated tie. “I do have a key, you know, and I am half-owner of this house.”

  I inhale deeply. Don’t get sucked into arguing with him. You catch more flies with honey, and if there’s one thing I must do, it’s convince him to give up his silly idea of selling this house and razing it to the ground.

  My blood pressure rises at the thought of seeing a high-rise condo sitting on the beach where I grew up.

  Before I know it, my arms are crossed, and I’m staring daggers at him. I’ve always looked up to my brother. He’s a sharp lawyer and has made quite a name for himself in Palmetto, but he’s not sentimental. He wasn’t close to Granny like I was.

  “So what’s the reason for your early visit?” I ask.

  His eyes move from me to Mrs. C, who’s currently devouring a muffin.

  “You looking for Lulu?” A few crumbs are on her chin, and she wipes at them, her gaze steely as she rakes it up and down him.

  He stiffens, straightening to his full height. “Why would I be looking for her?”

  “I see things, and I know things.” She taps her head. “Don’t underestimate this old lady. My mind is a steel trap. The only thing that makes me crazy and wild is the smell of serrano peppers cooking because it reminds me of Mr. C and our fun times…”

  She goes on a bit about how Mr. C would feed them to her, and my ears get hot.

  Ben cuts her off. “Okay, great.” He stares back at me, a determined look on his face.

  “So, you and Lulu?” I say, just to irk him.

  He glowers at me, and now he’s the one crossing his arms. “No! How many times do I have to say it?”

  “Then why are you here?”

  He juts out his jaw. “I asked someone to come and appraise the house. He should have been here yesterday or the day before.”

  Anger flashes in my gut. “Who?” My fists are clenched at my sides.

  He rolls his eyes. “Don’t get pissed, Ashton. I told you I wanted someone to come out and make an offer or at least give us an estimate. This isn’t news, and I mean, just look at this place. It needs a complete overhaul—something you can’t afford to do.”

  He looks around at the kitchen, and I know what he’s doing, adding up figures in his head.

  “I can make it work!”

  “No, you can’t.” His voice is maddeningly calm, and it ratchets up my fury.

  “You can’t sell this house. I won’t let you.”

  “You can’t stop me.” He pulls out his phone, muttering under his breath. “I can’t believe this guy was a no-show, especially when he knew how big the commission would be.”

  I feel a tic in my eye and rub it. “You’re not as smart as you think you are. Maybe this place isn’t worth what you think it is.”

  He lets out a grunt and shows me his phone. “See, it’s right here. Jax Roland with Pearson Real Estate. We met for coffee on Sunday, and he assured me he’d come here and—”

  “What?” The room tilts, and I steady myself, placing my hand on the closest wall. “Did you say Jax… Roland?”

  Shuffling comes from behind me, and I spin around. Jax is standing there dressed for work, but his eyes widen when he sees my brother. His face goes white.

  His gaze darts from me to Ben and back again. “Ashton… I can explain.”

  The air is sucked out of the room, and the coffee I had earlier threatens to come up. This. This is it. Just when I put my trust in someone, I get the rug pulled right out from under me.

  “You’re working with my brother?” My chest squeezes, and I rub at it. “All this time you acted like you were helping me… You came here to evaluate my house to see what it’s worth?”

  Jax rakes a hand through his hair, his expression torn. “Yes, but it’s not what you think—”

  “Wait… You’re staying here?” In my peripheral vision, I see Ben’s hand go to his hip, but I can’t take my eyes off the man I spent the night with.

  The man I spent all week with, tearing out old boards and adding new ones, painting, filming, teasing… Getting to know him, talking to him about everything, preparing my best recipes, kissing in the kitchen, making love… Mrs. C’s comments, the pretty babies… I never thought I’d be able to trust a man again…

  “Now you’ve done it.” Mrs. C’s voice is quiet.

  “What the fuck?” Ben’s sharp voice cuts through the tension in the air. “Is that why you’ve been ignoring my calls?”

  In a flash I remember all the calls Jax ignored—and every time he ignored them.

  “You lied to me.” I can’t believe how calm my voice sounds. My insides feel like the burning of Atlanta, giant buildings falling down, ablaze with destruction. He destroyed it all.

  Jax clears his throat. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t meet Ben until after I came here.”

  I shake my head no. I can’t swallow. I can’t breathe, and I sure as hell can’t stay in this room another minute. I will not cry. Not in front of my brother, and definitely not in front of Jax. Taking a step away, I raise my hand, fighting tears with every fiber of my being.

  “Ashton, wait. Let me explain.” Jax takes a step toward me, but my vision has blurred.

  Turning fast, I run out of the kitchen, heading for the stairs. My feet thump loudly as I fly up them as fast as I can, going straight to my room.

  Inside, I pace, shaking my hands and taking deep breaths. My entire body is trembling, and it feels like the walls are closing in around me.

  A traitorous sniff jerks my chest, and I want my grandmother. I go to the closet. Pulling the door open, I drop to my hands and knees and crawl inside to where I’m surrounded by the lingering scent of her clothes. With my back against the wall, I look up at my mural, at Ariel, the girl who has everything.

  My throat is so tight it aches, and with a blink, the first hot tear hits my cheek. Jax was my secret weapon. He was supposed to help me fix up the place and show Ben I was right, show him I could make it work here. He answered my email and said he’d help me—I remember that day so vividly, my elation, my happiness, my optimism.

  It’s a concrete block in my chest.

  My knees are bent, and I shove my hands into the sides of my hair. All the money, the debt I accumulated from my failed wedding, the cost of replacing the roof, the repairs that still need to be done. I’m losing, and I feel it all slipping through my fingers. I’m sliding down the cliff with no one to extend a hand or even break my fall.

  “I tried so hard, Granny…” The words escape on a broken whisper. “What do I do now?”

  Kyle’s betrayal broke my heart, but it’s only now, sitting here on the brink of losing everything that I realize how much he cost me. I’d reached out to Jax, and he’d said he’d help me… Then he did the same thing.

  My fists tighten on my knees, and a growl rises in my chest. No. Not again. I’m not lying down and letting another man do this to me. No more Miss Nice Girl. My nose is hot and my face is slick with tears, but I push off the floor. Throwing the closet door open, I come out in a blaze of fury.

  Voices rise from the foyer downstairs as I make my way down the hall, across the landing, headed to Jax’s room. I don’t even hesitate. I fling open his door and storm inside. With a pause, I take in the clothes scattered around, the toiletries in the bathroom, the shoes on the floor.

  “Not in my house.” My voice is husky and wild.

  “Ashton?” My brother calls from downstairs. “Stop being stubborn and come down here and talk.”

  The inferno in my chest has spread to my brain, and all I can think is Actions speak louder than words. Going to the window, I raise the blinds with a jerk. The window is already open, and I unfasten the screen, pushing it out of the way.

  From there, I go to the shoes lined along the wall and scoop them up, throwing them out the window. They fall onto the scrub below with a thump. Next, I pull Jax’s clothes off the hangers in the closet and ball the
m up in my arms. Shoving them out the window, I only pause a moment to watch them spread like sails before drifting slowly to join the shoes on the ground.

  “Fuck!” I hear Rufus croak. “It’s raining men!”

  Adrenaline drives me, and I go to the bathroom, scooping up all his toiletries and running to the window to throw them all out. My eyes light on the desk, and I see his laptop, the digital camera he used to film me while I worked, the same one I used to film him while I dreamed of how beautiful we’d make this old house.

  It’s the biggest betrayal of all, and I snatch it up, moving fast to the window.

  “What are you doing?” Jax’s voice is loud from the door, and his feet thud across the floor. “Stop!”

  I’m at the window, ready to throw the camera out, followed closely by his laptop, but large hands grip my upper arms, preventing me.

  “Let me go!” I shout, twisting side to side, trying to get out of his grasp. “Take your hands off me, Liar!”

  “Ashton.” His deep voice is sharp, commanding. “Stop this!”

  With a forceful jerk, I’m out of his grip. “You’re worse than Kyle,” I shout, my chest rising and falling rapidly. “He broke my heart, but you… you acted like you cared about my dreams. You said you wanted to help me.”

  His blue eyes flash. “I do want to help you. You’re not giving me a chance to explain—”

  “You’re damn right I’m not. I’ve given you all the chances you’ll ever get from me. Now I want you out… GET OUT!”

  Twenty-Three

  Jax

  Fuck.

  My chest is tight, and every muscle in my body is tense. Betrayal flashes in Ashton’s eyes, and every word is a lash ripping across my heart. She stands in front of the window, holding my camera against her heaving breast, shouting at me to leave.

  I’m trying to stay calm, but it’s almost impossible. “I won’t leave this way. You have to let me explain.”

  She makes another dash toward the window, and I lunge forward to intercept her. Downstairs, I’d been trying to explain to Ben when we both saw my things raining down on the lawn. That damn bird shouted out what was going on, and I ran up here to stop her.

  “I won’t let you have any of it. You can’t steal my dreams.” Her voice trembles like her body as she tries to throw my camera out the window.

  “No!” I grab the three-thousand-dollar device out of her hand. “You can’t break my camera.”

  Her eyes flash, and my hands drop, holding the expensive piece of equipment. “Why not?” Her voice is sharp, and she’s breathing hard, her hair flying around her face.

  I must be insane, because I think she is so beautiful right now, fiery and wild. “I can’t afford to replace it.”

  “You can’t afford…” Her slim brows furrow. “You said you’d do the show, all the repairs, the supplies… How can you do that if you can’t even afford a camera?”

  “We don’t have the budget.” Guilt is heavy in my tone. “I was hoping this job would be something I could use to take us to the next level.”

  She shakes her head and walks away from me. It’s like my insides are torn out, lying on the floor, all of it laid bare.

  “So it was all a lie. Every single thing you said to me was a lie.” She’s pacing again, and I see her fury rising. Her hazel eyes flash like emeralds mixed with lava. “You’re not a hero. You’re just like Kyle.”

  “No—”

  “What’s going on up here?” Ben has joined us, his voice loud and commanding from the door. “Ashton, stop this behavior at once. What is wrong with you?”

  “I’m not talking to you!” she snaps at her brother.

  “Yes, you are!” he snaps right back. Gotta love siblings. “This behavior is ridiculous—and completely unprofessional. We made an agreement to see what we could get for the place. You’re being stubborn like always.”

  “I am not!” Ashton’s voice is pure indignation and self-defense. “He lied to me.”

  “I don’t know anything about that.” Ben turns to me, smoothing his hands down the front of his jacket. “Jax, tell her what you’ve observed in your time here.”

  A knot is in my throat, and I try to swallow it away. It’s impossible when I see the tornado of emotions on Ashton’s face, the remnants of tears on her cheeks. Just last night she was in my arms. We watched Dirty Dancing, and lying on my back, I’d tried to lift her with my hands and feet… What did she call it? Coming in hot? She only ended up collapsed on my chest, both of us laughing until we started kissing then making love…

  She shifts her weight to one foot, cocking out a hip and crossing her arms. “Yes, Jax Roland.” She says my name like it’s acid on her tongue. “What have you observed in your time here?”

  I don’t want to do this. I take a deep breath, but it doesn’t help. It’s like knives stabbing my lungs. “He’s right, Ashton.” My voice is quiet, but firm. I won’t lie to her, regardless of what she thinks of me now. “This place is a maintenance nightmare. You’ll never be able to keep up with the cost of repairs. They’ll eat into any profit you might make running a B&B here.”

  She sniffs and straightens her back, fighting my words with good posture. Fuck, I can’t stand to see her this way, blinking fast, refusing to cry the tears I put in her eyes.

  “Is that so.” It’s not a question. It’s a wavering statement of defiance.

  “You know it’s so,” Ben cuts in, impatient and ignorant of what’s going on between us, what’s crumbling to pieces. “Now stop acting like a spoiled brat.”

  “You care nothing about your family!” she fires back, pointing her finger at his chest.

  “Ashton…” he groans, turning to me. “Tell her, Jax.”

  “I won’t lie to you.” My voice is quiet. “You’ll make more money selling this house than you ever will keeping it.”

  Her teeth clench behind her tight lips, and her eyes blink faster. Boldness flashes all over her body like invisible armor. “Thank you for your opinion.”

  Ben is quick to interject. “It’s not his opinion. It’s the facts.”

  “I’ll give you a fact.” Her voice is low, and I confess, a little scary. “I’m never selling Granny’s house. Never! Sue me if you want. I’m not letting you in here, and I’m never letting you condemn it. Now get out.”

  “You can’t tell me to get out.” Ben exhales a frustrated chuckle.

  “I just did. I want both of you out of my house. Now. Get out!”

  With a screech like a banshee, something flies into the room on cerulean blue wings.

  “Get the fuck out!” Rufus shoots through the doorway and starts flying in a circle, diving at Ben’s head. “Get the fuck out!”

  The bird grasps with long claws, and Ben bats him away, waving his arms. “What the hell?” He ducks out the door, Rufus hot on his tail. “Mrs. Capshaw! Where are you? Put this bird in a cage.” Ben jogs down the stairs shouting over Rufus’s squawks. “It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

  Turning to face Ashton, my insides twist when I see the cold calm now on her features. It’s worse than her fiery anger.

  “Ashton.” My voice is quiet, pleading. “Talk to me.”

  Her chin lifts, and she pushes past me to the door. “It should take no more than ten minutes for you to collect your things and get out of my house.” Her tone is ice, and her hazel eyes flash as she casts me a final glance. “I’ll give you five.”

  She leaves, and I drop to the bed.

  What the fuck do I do now?

  “Wait.” Bernice paces the room, arms crossed. “I’m confused. Did you come here to help her save her house or did you come here to save your show… Or to make a fat commission?”

  I’m on my sister’s couch, elbows on my knees, rubbing my temples. “I came here for a fucking vacation.”

  “Don’t get snippy with me.” She shoves a tumbler of scotch into my hand. “Whatever you were thinking, you royally fucked it up.”

  “Thanks, sis.” It�
�s only 10 AM, but I need a stiff drink, and as much as I love my nieces, I’m glad they had a birthday-party-slash-sleepover last night.

  I need a minute of quiet to get my head together and figure out what to do.

  My sister sits beside me, her voice noticeably gentler. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I answered an email.” Shaking my head, I try to quell the memories. “I thought I could use her house on the show. Tara said we needed more money, but I didn’t even know about the commission when I got here.”

  “So it was an unlucky series of events?”

  Was it unlucky? I think all the way back to that first night at the Smoky Siren.

  Fate.

  I don’t believe in fate.

  “She needed help.” My voice is rough. “She asked me to come here and help her save her house. When I told her I could…”

  I’ll never forget how happy she was, her spontaneous hug followed by a quick apology. She was so damn cute, and that kiss… the memory of that kiss had me ready to do anything for more.

  Contrast it to today. I can still see her shaking with anger, betrayal. I can still see the hurt in her eyes.

  “You told her you’d help her… and what?”

  “I fucked it up.” Lifting the tumbler, I shoot what’s in the glass.

  My sister studies me with blue eyes identical to mine. She’s sizing me up. “That’s not like you. What happened?”

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I fight back against these emotions. “Too much… not enough. I got caught up in their family drama, and now I’m the bad guy.”

  “The bad guy who’s drinking at ten in the morning?” I don’t answer her right away, and after a few more minutes, she exhales and leans back, crossing her arms. “I saw it when you brought her here. That girl is special, and you know it.”

  My eyes squeeze shut, and I try to deny her words. Only I can’t. Ashton is special.

  “She’s sweet.” My voice is resigned. “She’s smart, and I liked her house for the show. It would’ve been good for ratings, maybe even something my producer could pitch to the network.”

  “You liked her house.” I glance over my shoulder, and her eyes are narrowed. “You liked the girl. She got under your skin.”