by Kim Jones
“Seriously?” I throw my head back on a laugh.
“Oh, it gets better,” he says, propping his arm on the back of my barstool—bringing him closer. “She probably would’ve chalked it up to coincidence, but the very next week, the same shit happened. Only this time, it was Payton.”
My eyes narrow. “Are you pulling my dick?”
He laughs at that. “No, baby. I’m not pulling your dick. You can’t make this shit up. Fourth quarter. Eighteen seconds on the clock. Fourth down. Forty-yard line. Payton’s got the ball. He’s looking to pass and can’t find an opening. This linebacker who’d sacked his ass three times already is closing in. Momma, scared as shit that he’s gonna get his head knocked off, freaks out and cries, ‘fuckin’ get rid of it, Pay!’ The linebacker trips over his own feet. Takes out two more guys in the process. Opens up a hole in the line and Payton breaks through. Runs it in for a touchdown to win the game.”
He’s beaming at me. Shaking his head in disbelief as if he’s not even fully convinced it was possible. I’m speechless. It’s the best story I’ve ever heard.
“So Winter,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His voice soft. Lips still smiling. Gray eyes caressing my face. “Now that you’ve heard the story, do you think it’s lucky?”
Smiling at him, I nod. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
Jinx’s room is exactly as I’d imagined.
Posters of athletes, women in bikinis and several floating shelves displaying trophies and medals cover his walls. His queen sized bed is made—the navy blue comforter matching the blue shag carpet. A wooden dresser showcases a football signed by someone of importance. There’s a nightstand with a lamp. An alarm clock. And a baseball bat propped against the corner of the bed.
There’s no clutter. No dust. And absolutely everything seems to have a place. I guess growing up, he was just as anal about shit as he is now.
“This is nice,” I say, when I turn to notice him watching me.
“My parents may or may not be cool with us sleeping together. If they’re not, you can sleep in here and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Are your brothers staying here too?”
His lips thin. “Yeah. And they’ll be downstairs with me.”
Grinning, I strut toward him and run my hands up his chest. “Worried I’ll want a little ménage action with the Hollywood twins?”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” he mutters, his hands at my waist. Dipping his head, he presses a soft, but brief kiss to my lips. His forehead against mine, he says, “Thanks for coming.”
“You didn’t give me a choice, remember?” He’d practically said I was going. Not in the mood to argue, I’d agreed knowing I didn’t have another option. I’m glad I’m here, though. But I don’t tell him that. Instead, I say, “I can tell your mom needed this.”
“My mom thinks we’re a couple.”
“What did you think she’d think?”
His lips tip. “I guess I hadn’t planned that far ahead. Hell I don’t even know what we are.” Voice husky, he asks, “What are we, Winter?”
I fidget with the hem of his black shirt—fighting the urge to run my hands under it and touch the hard, hot muscles beneath it. “We’re… friends.”
He lifts a brow. “Friends don’t fuck like we fuck.” True. “Friends don’t sleep naked together. They don’t end every night together… start every day together. So no, sweetheart. We’re not friends.” Well… when you say it like that…
But I’m not his. He’s not mine. This isn’t a relationship. We’re just two people spending time together. Brought together by a fucked up circumstance. We’ve been living in solitude together for nearly two months. Of course we’d be close. But we’re not… together.
“What do you think we are?” I ask, my nerves evident. My pulse quickening. Heart skipping a beat when I realize whatever this is—whatever we are—is only temporary. I want a life that doesn’t involve the MC. He’s the kind of man who won’t give it up. And already, it hurts at the thought of leaving him.
“More,” he says simply. “More than friends, babe.”
“And when you’re gone? Then what will we be?”
“Do you want me gone?”
I drop my gaze. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”
Tilting my head back, he forces me to look at him. His gray eyes are soft. “What you want is the only thing that matters.”
His words melt me. Since when had anyone cared about what I wanted? Even asked? And never had anyone thought that what I wanted mattered.
Until now.
Until this man.
Until Jinx.
The man I…the man I think…the man I’m pretty sure…I…
“Yo bitch!” The door swings open and I jerk away from Jinx just as Clayton walks in. Our moment shatters. My thoughts clear. I look at Clayton. But can feel Jinx’s eyes on me even as Clayton comes up and throws his arm around him. “Come on, big bro. Let’s see if you still got it.”
My brow lifts in question. Jinx smirks. “You know I still got it.”
“Um…” Clayton starts. “No…I don’t. Ain’t seen your ass in months. Looks like you got fatter, too.” He pats the wall of muscle that is Jinx’s stomach.
“Jinx,” Payton says from the door. We all turn to look at him as he leans heavily on the frame. His cocky smile in place. Those eyes on me. He’s as tall as Jinx, but not nearly as wide. Definitely the body of a quarterback. “Momma wants you.”
“I’m over here, Pay,” Jinx rumbles.
“I know. But she’s better to look at.” He tips his chin at me. “Wanna put on something sexy and cheer for me, darlin’?”
“She’s out of your league, pretty boy.” Jinx grins down at me as he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to his side. “Trust me… you couldn’t handle it.”
Both Jinx and I shake my head at him. He’s cute, but I’d break him. Ruin him for any other woman. I’m not like those college girls he fucks around with. I’m the real deal. I could have him coming in his pants by just playing with my tits.
“Oh, you don’t think so?”
“Sorry sugar,” I breathe on a shrug. “Maybe in a few years.”
“My dick’s bigger than his.” I laugh at that. Then sober when I notice no one else is laughing.
“That,” Jinx says, a little defeated, “is actually true.”
No fucking way. Scanning Payton’s crotch, I move down his thigh, wondering where the fuck he stores that big bastard.
“I strap it to my leg.” He winks, licking his lip. His face smug. I flush scarlet and a wolfish grin spreads across his cheeks. Then he’s barreling down the stairs, trying to escape Jinx. But not before his offer.
“Wanna touch it?”
42
WINTER
“Blue forty-two…what I could do to you…red twenty-seven…make you think you’re in heaven…set…get you real wet—“
“Would you just hike the fuckin’ ball!” Jinx roars.
Payton winks at me from his position behind Clayton.
I laugh—shaking my head at the horny little idiot whose dirty talk has his mother threatening him with a switch. Whatever the fuck that means.
“Hut!”
Clayton snaps the ball. Payton catches it easily. Takes three steps back. Then with a grace as fluid and precise as any pro, he hurls it through the air. My eyes move to Jinx who is running full speed across the huge lawn. In those hot ass shorts, I can make out the muscles in his legs flexing and hardening as he quickens his pace.
Head up, looking over his shoulder, he watches as the ball starts to fall from the sky. Then reaching one, long, tattooed, strong arm out, he snags it with just the tips of his fingers. Pulling it to his chest, he slows and circles back—jogging straight toward me.
I’m sitting next to his mother in a lawn chair. To her right is his father. And I want to kiss them both for creating the perfect, flawless specimen that is Jinxton Marks.
As he nears, I focus on his naked, tattooed chest that rises and falls with his deep breathing. We both seem to ignore everyone as we look at each other. Me gaping. Him grinning. Just like we’ve been doing for the past forty-five minutes we’ve been out here.
“That the best you got?” he asks, tossing Payton the ball as he completes his jog to me.
“You big fucker,” Payton calls out. “Ain’t no way you should be able to run that fast.”
Reaching me, he scoops me up in his arms and falls down in my chair—planting me on his hard thighs. I’m still reeling as he takes the water bottle from my fingers and guzzles it down. I can smell his sweat. I want to fucking lick it. I want to grind my pussy against his hard thigh.
Shit, Winter.
“I’m going to finish up dinner,” Lynn announces, standing and placing a kiss on Jinx’s head before ruffling his sweaty hair. “Show Winter the lake… fuck,” she adds, like she just realized she hasn’t said the word in a while.
“That’s private property, Momma.” Jinx narrows his eyes playfully. “Are you asking me to break the law?”
“No son, I’m telling you to show Winter the fucking lake. It’s only private property if they have a sign.”
“My Momma’s a fuckin’ outlaw!” Clayton shouts, throwing his mother’s small body over his shoulder like she’s weightless.
“Put me down you damn Neanderthal!”
“Fucking Neanderthal, Momma. Get your shit together.”
“Fine…Put me down you fucking Neanderthal.”
“So,” Jinx says, pulling me away from the chaos that is disappearing into the house. “Wanna break the law and trespass on private property to see a body of water that doesn’t belong to us?”
I laugh because it’s funny. Because it’s a little strange. But most of all, I laugh because I’m happy. “I’d love to.”
“Wow,” I say, only a hint of sarcasm in my voice.
Jinx shakes his head and tosses a rock in the water. “I know.”
So the lake really isn’t all his mom made it out to be. It’s pretty small. Like the smallest lake in history. Dried up in some places. The banks overgrown with weeds. And the pier we’re sitting on looks like it could collapse any minute.
But I don’t get to see a lot of sites like this where I’m from. Vegas is mostly dry dessert or flashing lights. Here, it’s serene. Quiet. Peaceful. Nice. I’m happy he brought me. Besides, I’ve never ridden a golf cart before and that alone was worth the trip.
“I like your family,” I say, leaning my head on his shoulder. It’s cold out, but his body immediately warms me.
“They’re fuckin’ crazy. Really superstitious. A little old school, but they’re good people.”
“When you say old school, you must be talking about that shag carpet,” I tease.
He laughs. “No doubt. Momma’s motto is, ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’ Dad’s threatened to fuck shit up just so she’ll update. But I think he likes it. Reminds them of old times. When me and the twins were back at home.”
“Those twins…” I trail off, unable to find words to even describe them.
“Clayton’s two minutes older. And he’s about that much more mature than Payton. They’re both loud and obnoxious, cocky and horny. But damn they’re talent…” A mystic look crosses Jinx’s eyes as he stares out at the water. “It’s unbelievable, babe. And smart? Don’t let their idiocy fool you. They’re both brilliant.”
“I can see that.” No fuck I can’t… But if Jinx believes it, then that’s good enough for me.
“I should want what they have. What my parents have,” he says, breathing out a laugh as he runs his hand through his hair. “But I hated it. Hated being perfect. Walking into the grocery store and people pattin’ me on the back. Those same people sittin’ next to me at church on Sunday. Then gossipin’ about me on Monday. Sayin’ I’m not all I’m cracked up to be. That the perfect Marks family of five will one day fall. And how they can’t fuckin’ wait until it does.”
He’s not sad. Just matter-of-fact. And though this conversation is serious, I can’t hide my smile at his accent now that he’s home. He notices and grins—eyes dropping from my eyes to my lips.
“What?”
“Nothin’ honey,” I drawl.
His eyes roll. “Shut up.”
“So you left your perfect world and crossed over to the darkness.”
“Something like that. I left. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t know who I was. How to act. Didn’t take long for me to get in trouble. I refused to bring that shit to my parents, so I made my own way out of it.
“I’m good with numbers, so I turned to gambling. Soon, I was approached by someone who showed me how to take it to the next level. Make some real money. Get the fuck out of the casinos.”
He looks at me. I have the strange feeling he’s wanting me to guess who that someone was. I don’t have to guess. I already know. “Pierce.” He nods once.
“He introduced me to some people. Through that, we got close. I found myself missing the power I had back at home. The way people looked up to me. How they struggled to speak around me. They were intimidated by my skill and my inevitable fame. I never thought I’d miss it, but damn I did.
“Hanging around the MC, I noticed they possessed that same kind of power. I also missed my brothers. My dad. Our bond. The relationship within the MC was similar. So I prospected. After I patched out, my connections grew and I got into some deeper shit. When things got bloody and my bets became dangerous, I knew I needed to get out of the bookie business.
“I had a friend from back home who worked for an energy company. Said they could never find enough security, so the demand for it was high and the pay good. I needed startup capital so I got the money the best way I knew how. By doing something I was good at. So I took a risk… bet big… got paid…”
“And got out,” I finish, my smile proud. It falters when he gives me a distant look and shakes his head.
“No. I got fucked.”
My entire body goes rigid. My heart free falls. Stomach flips. I’m the one that fucked him. The money I stole was his startup capital. His new beginning. I feel sick.
“Jinx…”
“Don’t, Winter,” he says, a little exasperated. “I don’t want to go there. Not now.”
Problem with that is, we’re already here. I’ve ruined our trip. This perfect day. Possibly everything.
“What did you do? How did you get the money for your startup?”
“The old fashioned way.” He winks. “I stole it.”
Before I can decide if he’s lying or not, he moves to stand and I grab his arm. When he looks at me, I have to swallow hard before I can speak. “For what it’s worth, I’m really sorry.”
Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, he roams my face with his eyes before settling on mine. There’s no anger. No sadness. Nothing. Those silver marbles are completely impassive. When his lips quirk, the pressure in my chest lightens.
“Eight weeks ago, I’d have told you to eat shit. But now that I know what I know, I’m good with it. You needed that money a hell of a lot more than me. For what it’s worth,” he adds, throwing my words back at me. “I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you.”
But for the first time ever, I’m glad it didn’t. Because if it had, I wouldn’t be where I am now. And that thought saddens me more than the past two years of my life.
43
WINTER
“Lord we know it is your will that must be done,” Lynn continues, blessing the feast spread out on the table before us like she’s been doing for the past forever. It’s so strange—listening to a woman bare her soul to God only moments after telling everyone, “Shut the fuck up so I can say grace.”
I lift my eyes to Jinx who sits across from me with his head dutifully bowed. Feeling my stare, his lids flutter open and those shocking grays seize me. He watches me throughout the rest of the prayer—both of us fighting to contain our smi
les. When his mother asks God to please bless Jinx and his new significant other whose title has yet to be revealed, he loses the battle and his lips curve up on the sides. Moments later, after she’s asked God for forgiveness of their many, many, many, many sins, she finally says, “Amen.”
“Amen,” everyone says in unison. Almost immediately, the cussing begins.
“Pass the fucking turkey.”
“Give me that, you selfish fuck.”
“Nobody does dressin’ like Momma does fuckin’ dressin.”
“I sure am glad Jinx missed Thanksgiving,” Clayton, who sits on my left, says. “Now we get to eat it twice.” I feel a pang of guilt for Jinx missing the holidays with his family.
“I missed Easter, too,” Jinx quickly adds, his gaze on me as if to reassure me it’s not my fault. I smile in thanks, but it doesn’t really ease my conscience.
“Well, at Easter we didn’t get a do-over. We just got fuckin’ sandwiches,” Payton says, glaring at Jinx who sits next to him.
Lynn clears her throat then swings her eyes to me—her face a bright smile. “How about you, Winter? Did you make it home for Thanksgiving?”
Clayton nudges me. “Yeah… where do you live, by the way?”
“You sure don’t sound southern,” Lyle laughs.
It’s innocent. I know that. But I can’t fake a smile for them. I can’t lie even though it’s on the tip of my tongue. I can’t tell them the truth, either. And I can’t fucking stop these eyes of mine from filling with tears.
Before I can embarrass myself or Jinx further, I stand and quickly rush out an, “Excuse me.” I pray for the sound of chatter to resume or the clanking of forks. But I hear nothing. And I can feel every set of eyes burning into the back of my head as I leave the room and bolt up the stairs.
