Her Wish--A Playboy Genie Romance

by Sophie H. Morgan

  “Gee, thanks for your opinion, Ian.” Charlie’s smile dripped sugar. “Get your feet off my coffee table.”

  “Everyone needs to take a breath.” Kate half rose, hands outstretched. Her eyes darted from Charlie to Ian. “Hon, you need another beer?”

  “Sure, babe.” Ian shook his already-empty bottle. “Here.”

  Charlie put up a hand. “And the reason you can’t get off your ass and get one yourself . . . ?”

  “She offered. She’s a good woman.” Ian’s teeth mashed another peanut. His eyes turned mean. “If you want to land Michaels, you might try copying her.”

  “Is that what you’re doing?” Tweedlecuter butted in.

  “I’m going to get that beer—anyone else want anything?” Kate waited and then left for the kitchen.

  “No,” Charlie said to both Tweedles and Ian. “I’m not trying to land Jax. He might not be the root of evil, but he’s a Genie.” And therefore, one of the uncaring. At least, that’s what she used to think. Before he’d shown such an interest in helping her with her store.

  Ian snorted. “You’ve got the hots for him. That’s hilarious.”

  “I don’t have ‘the hots’ for him—what are you, fourteen?”

  “Then why you hanging around him all the time? Kate says he’s always at the store.” Ian aimed a finger her way. “You can tell him to stop sniffing ’round my girl if he wants to keep his perfect teeth in his perfect mouth.”

  “I’m sure he’s shaking in his designer loafers.” Charlie swallowed the snort. “He’s only around because he wants to help with the business.”

  “Right.” Ian swallowed. “I bet his company’s riding his ass to get you to make a wish.”

  Her cheeks went hot. “Maybe, but he seems to genuinely want to help. You know, some men like helping women.”

  “You’re an idiot. No guy hangs around unless he’s after something.” He jeered. “It sure as hell ain’t your looks he’s sticking around for.”

  Her teeth ground together. You cannot drop-kick Kate’s boyfriend.

  Not that she knew how to, but hey, willingness to learn got her halfway there.

  A knock at the door interrupted her fantasy of smashing Ian’s sneer into her carpet.

  She pushed to her feet. “I’ll go—don’t tax yourself by getting up.”

  Ian belched in response.

  Her hand balled at her side as she strode out of the living room. The Tweedles’ debate about Jax’s sexiest feature floated after her. Tweedlecute said butt, while Cuter was voting for arms.

  A prayer for strength drifted into her mind as Charlie unlatched the deadbolt and jerked open the door.

  She blinked. “Jax.”

  His eyes. The thought came unbidden as azure shimmered at her like gold-speckled ocean waves. Definitely his eyes.

  He was braced against the doorframe, shoulder to the wood, legs crossed. A smile curled his lips. “Charlie. Can I come in?”

  “No.” Her initial idea was to slam the door in his face. God, if he came in and met the Tweedles and Ian, it’d be like setting the hounds upon the fox. Even a wily fox like Jax couldn’t escape predators like those in her living room.

  His eyebrow cocked. “No?”

  “Kate’s got people ’round.”

  “Okay.” He waited a beat. “I’m good with people. Unless you tell me they’re croissant haters. Then I’m sorry, I can’t be in the same room with them.”

  “Cute.”

  “Thanks.” His hand emerged from behind his back. “These are for you.”

  The yellow sunflowers held her stare like a spinning watch. “This is becoming a habit.”

  She squelched the gooey marshmallow-melting feeling. Ian’s words nibbled at her insecurities, crunching over her recent hopes that the Genie was helping for a different reason.

  Was Jax playing her?

  “You gonna take them or am I gonna have to get violent?”

  “Oh. Sure.” Charlie’s hand brushed his as he handed them over. Goose bumps trailed the touch, a literal spark fizzing through her palm. She nodded. “Bye.”

  “You’re serious?” Jax’s hand blocked the door as she tried to shut it. “I can’t come in?”

  “They’re croissant haters.”

  “I can reform them.”

  “No.”

  His laugh was half-amazed, half-amused. “Who’re these people I can’t meet?”

  “I told you; friends of Kate’s.”

  “Then it’s up to her, isn’t it. Hi, Kate,” he directed behind her, and Charlie whirled to see her friend hurrying over with a big smile.

  “Jax. It’s nice to see you—what are you doing here?” Kate held Ian’s beer in her hand, forgotten in the presence of Jax Michaels.

  “I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d drop by. Charlie says you’ve got people over—is it all right if I come in?”

  Charlie’s jaw bunched.

  “Of course. It’s just a couple of girlfriends and my boyfriend, Ian—I don’t think you’ve met him yet, but of course, he’s dying to meet you. Charlie.” Kate frowned at where Charlie was half blocking Jax with the door. “Let the man in.”

  As Kate bubbled away to tell the others, Charlie yanked the door wider. “Sneak.”

  “Clever.” He tapped her nose, chuckling. His overcoat brushed her arm as he came past, and his unique apple scent swirled out at her.

  She allowed herself one second to breathe it in before shutting the door and hurrying after him, flowers in hand.

  Kate was waving like a grand circus master. “Everyone, I’m sure you know Jax. Jax, this is Anna and Corinne, and this is Ian, my boyfriend.” Kate sat on the latter’s chair arm, handing over his beer. “Jax was in the neighborhood.”

  The Tweedles looked as red as excited three-year-olds. Both leapt to their feet as Jax looked around for somewhere to sit.

  “Sit with us,” Tweedlecute pleaded, voice husky with invitation. She cocked her hip, smiled.

  “Yes, please,” Tweedlecuter purred. “We have so much to talk about.”

  “What could be better than being sandwiched by two beautiful ladies?” Jax smiled the killer smile he’d given Charlie when they’d first met. “Ladies first, and I’ll squeeze myself in.” He winked. “I’m big, you know.”

  Charlie’s hand clenched the sunflowers’ stems. Jax could fend for himself if he was going to hand out cheesy lines like pamphlets. As for the disappointment brewing inside her, to hell with it. What else would he do but head for the two gorgeous women wearing summer outfits in February? What else but ignore the woman in jeans—call her the idiot—whom he’d just given flowers to?

  Not like they had anything but business between them.

  Obviously.

  She stomped into the kitchen and set the flowers on the counter to the grating sound of the Tweedles’ laughter.

  Grumbling, she lifted a vase from the top of her cabinets and filled it with water. She mimicked the laughter as she arranged the sunflowers. “Oh, Jax, you’re so funny, so charming, so sexy.”

  “I’m glad we finally agree.”

  Charlie’s fingers snapped a stem. She cursed. “Now look what you made me do.”

  He ignored that. “Tell me, what made you come to this—completely accurate—realization that I’m funny, charming, and sexy? Was it one big thing or the little aspects over time?” His voice was desperately amused.

  Hers was not. “Was there a reason you stopped by—more than your usual attempt to make me bow to you?”

  A beat passed. “Wow, so are you pissed at me or the world in general?”

  Charlie swiveled with the sunflower head in hand, heart stuttering to find him closer than she’d thought.

  Jax placed a hand on the counter, boxing her in. Her apartment didn’t have a massive kitchen, more a ship’s galley, and there was only enough room in it for her. With Jax there, too, the air stole out of the room.

  Jax’s eyes glittered. “You’re annoyed I came by?”

/>   “Why would I be annoyed? It’s not like I care what you do.” Charlie cringed at the bitterness of the tone that emerged. Ian’s words twisted inside her like a man hanging from a rope.

  His eyebrows drew together. “What’s your problem?”

  “I don’t have a problem.”

  “Has someone upset you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, is it, you know”—his voice turned queasy—“the curse?”

  Charlie’s eyes snapped to his. “What? No.”

  “Because I can always grab you some chocolate or something. Always worked for my mom.”

  “Jax, I don’t have the curse.”

  “Oh. Good. Good.” A man had never looked more relieved. “Then what’s up?”

  He seemed so concerned, so genuinely interested in why she was being a grade A bitch, that Charlie shoved away Ian’s words. What did he know anyway? He was a low-level actor who leeched off Kate’s money and thought his barbs were hilarious.

  Charlie feathered a hand through her hair and let out a breath that dissolved the ball of tension lodged in her chest. “Nothing. Sorry. Been a long day.”

  “You sure?” Jax laid a hand on her shoulder, rubbing in slow circles. Heat tingled through her sweater.

  Her toes curled. “Yeah.”

  “Did the sunflowers make you smile?”

  “You know they did.” Charlie’s smile was natural this time. She patted his chest. “Thank you.”

  His eyes darkened as her hand lingered. He was just so . . . firm underneath his shirt, so hot. His heart beat away beneath her hand as she stared into eyes gone an inky navy sky with an array of glistening gold stars.

  “You really want to thank me?” Jax’s voice dipped to a caress, cream over dark chocolate. His hand on her shoulder tightened and tugged her nearer. “Give me a kiss.”

  7.

  A breathless laugh puffed from Charlie. “Yeah. Right.”

  This close to Jax, her will to treat him friendly—but not too friendly—was melting like butter on hot toast.

  “I dare you.” His smile was deadly, curling at one side.

  “You dare me?”

  “Do you accept?”

  “What are we, eight?”

  “Chicken.”

  Charlie stared. “You did not just call me a chicken.”

  Holding her gaze, Jax softly began to make chicken noises.

  She ignored the way her belly flopped, the sweat beading at her hairline.

  “Fine,” she said.

  Gathering her courage, she stretched on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his shaven cheek.

  Oh, God.

  He smelled like sin, everything warm and musky and male that made everything female in her clench. Tight.

  His hand flattened against her shoulder as she dawdled for a stolen moment before dropping back down.

  She’d have smiled, but that innocent kiss had stolen her ability to.

  “There,” she croaked.

  “Cheater.” Soft and lethal, the taunt underlined the desire that haunted his eyes like a living phantom.

  Charlie swallowed, shrugged. “We’d better get back before your fan club sends out a search party.”

  When he didn’t move, she feared he would take matters into his own hands and crush her to him.

  Which would be bad.

  Very bad.

  Humongously bad.

  It’s-the-end-of-the-human-race-and-only-the-creepy-bathrobe-wearing-guy-from-apartment-3C-is-left-to-repopulate-the-earth-with bad.

  Because, and here was the kicker, if Jax ever kissed her, Charlie would lose all hope that she could withstand him.

  She almost fell to the ground and kissed it in relief when he stepped back.

  His eyes locked to hers, he touched her chin. “You think you’ve won, but wait.”

  She skedaddled out of the kitchen without commenting as fast as her skinny legs could carry her.

  Kate glanced over in question as Charlie sank down in her chair.

  Charlie pushed her lips into a smile. If Kate could see that something was going on, it must be written all over her face.

  “You didn’t get yourself a beer?” Ian commented as Jax returned to his seat between the Tweedles.

  So that was why he’d come into the kitchen.

  Not for her.

  Well, fine. Good.

  Great.

  “Changed my mind.” Jax relaxed with an ease Charlie envied. She supposed it was part of his job to socialize with others. He was certainly good at it.

  Her smile curdled as Tweedlecuter nestled closer.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty crappy beer,” Ian said. He tossed his empty packet of chocolate peanuts onto the carpet. Chocolate dust sprinkled the beige nap.

  Charlie gazed at it.

  Ian patted Kate’s knee. “My girl here tries, but she’s a bit of an airhead when it comes to good beer.”

  “It’s true.” To Charlie’s amazement, Kate smiled with good cheer. “I don’t like it, so I never know what to buy.”

  “He could buy his own beer,” Charlie pointed out.

  “No one’s talking to you,” Ian said.

  “So, what do you do, Ian?” Jax interrupted, a thread of steel hardening his voice.

  Charlie considered him. She didn’t think she’d ever heard him sound so . . .

  Whatever that note was.

  Ian puffed up like a male peacock. “I’m an actor. You’ve probably seen some of my shows. I’ve done it all, off Broadway.”

  “Five miles off,” Charlie said under her breath.

  “Off Broadway, huh? Like what?”

  “Oh, all the greats.” Ian waved a hand. “But it’s funny, you being here. It’s like fate. I went down to WFY yesterday to that fancy-schmancy reception you guys have and filled out an application.” He jabbed his chest with his thumb. “I’m gonna be a Genie.”

  “Oh?” Jax’s interest was almost excruciating in its politeness. “They’ve already called?”

  “Well, no, but I’ve got a good feeling. I know they only take, like, five people on New Year’s Eve, but I figure with me, they’ll make an exception.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. I’m gonna get me an immortal life. Magic. Babes. Well, I’ve got one of those.” He squeezed Kate’s hip. She at least looked embarrassed this time. “But, man, I’m juiced already thinking about it. I gotta know—after your one-year trial and you get made a full Genie, is it true you get to make a wish of your own?”

  Charlie’s eyes widened as she shared a look with Kate. There was nosy, and then there was rude.

  Not that the Tweedles were paying attention, being too busy rubbing their boobs against Jax’s arms.

  Jax didn’t betray any emotion as he answered. “Yes.”

  “What did you wish for?”

  Kate broke in. “Hon, that’s rude. You can’t ask people what they wished for.”

  “It’s all right, Kate.” Jax kept his gaze steady. “Tell the truth, I don’t even remember. I think it was a car or something.”

  Charlie studied him. He was lying. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did.

  Ian snorted. “Man, I’d wish for, like, eternal money or a huge penthouse apartment or something.” He grinned. “Just wait until I’m selected. I’ll give you a run for your money then, Michaels. You might be the face of the recruitment campaign now, but I’ll haul in more applications when I’m made your replacement.” He laughed. “‘We need you!’”

  Jax’s smile was thin. “You think?”

  “Man, I know. I got the looks, the talent, the smarts. I could do the TV, the wishes, the luxury, the interviews. And I’d do a hell of a lot better granting wishes.”

  “Ian,” Kate hissed in horror. “You’re being rude.”

  “It’s just trash talk, babe. Jax knows I’m kidding.” Ian’s gaze went to Jax for confirmation.

  “Don’t worry, Kate.” Jax sent her a warm smile, though his eyes remained as cool as a shark’s. “I
’m intrigued—how are you gonna be better at granting wishes? My record so far is pretty damn spotless.”

  “Yeah, except for Plain Jane over here.” Ian snorted again as Charlie swung her eyes in his direction. “The stupid idiot. How ungrateful can you be? When a person like her wins the lottery—thanks to my girl here, too—she should be kissing the ground you walk on, not being an ass.”

  “If you don’t stop the insults, it’ll be you kissing the ground.” Jax’s words cut like paper, clean and precise.

  Ian’s mouth fell open. “Hey, we’re just talking. I’m on your side. She’s a fool, is all I’m saying.”

  “Say it one more time.”

  “Wow, okay.” Charlie jumped up as she realized Jax was one idiotic word away from throwing down the gloves and slamming his fist into Ian’s face. And as much as she would pay to see that, Jax could get sued for assault, and then his job would be in jeopardy. Ian wasn’t worth that.

  Warmth spread across her skin as she walked to where Jax stood. Hope bounded like a spring lamb. He must care for her at least a little, over and beyond the wish.

  “We all need to calm down,” she said, eyes on him. He continued to gaze over her shoulder at Ian. He was tense as a statue, violence shimmering dust.

  “Charlie isn’t stupid,” he bit out. “And she’ll wish in her own time.”

  Just like that, the warmth receded. The lamb was butchered.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

  Jax tore his gaze from Ian. Guilt whipped across his face. “Nothing.”

  “Oh, my God.” Charlie let out a short laugh. “Ian was right.” And she’d been wrong. Or right all along, depending on how you looked at it.

  Betrayal surged, a lavalike intense wave that taunted her as it flooded her with heat. Why had she ever assumed he’d come to care for her?

  “The presents,” she said slowly, jaw bunching, “the flowers, not bringing up the wish—it was all to get me to soften, wasn’t it?” Her eyes roved his face. “Pretending to care about my store. The looks and the touches . . . You’ve totally been playing me.” Confirmation in his guilty eyes. “Oh, my God.”

  Jax glanced around. He grabbed her hand. “We can’t talk here.”