by Dawn Atkins
She gave him that slow, big-eyed blink and made him feel even worse. So he did the only thing he could think of.
He picked a fight.
“And what the hell are you doing agitating the girls for, anyway?”
“They’re women, not girls, and I made a few suggestions.”
“Jasmine wants paid childcare, for God’s sake.” He deliberately sounded grouchier than he felt. “That is ridiculous.”
“There’s nothing ridiculous about an employer providing benefits to his employees.” An edge came into her voice.
“They get paid very, very well. That’s their benefit. Duke’s going bare bones until this place makes more money. I had to push to get the curtains and better chairs as it is.”
“Happy employees make for happy customers, Jackson.”
“The girls were plenty happy until you started making trouble.”
“Making trouble? The lack of outlets in the dressing rooms is a safety code violation at the least, not to mention the lack of privacy. And just because the dancers weren’t saying anything doesn’t mean they were happy. The fact they’re taking action is a sign they’re more aware of their personal power.”
“They’ve got men groveling at their feet, throwing money at them seven nights a week. That’s personal power.”
“I’m talking about dignity and self-esteem.”
He groaned. “Can’t you just leave well enough alone?”
“Not when something should be better. And I would think you’d be happy to help them. You’re the guy they go to when they have problems.”
“This is different.” She had a point, but so what? “Just because your own life isn’t working out, don’t be turning everyone else’s upside down.”
“What’s the matter with you, Jackson?” She took a step backward, wounded, her eyes big with hurt.
Damn it to hell.
“I just don’t like you meddling in things you don’t understand.”
“Is it us? Is that what’s wrong?”
Hell, yes. But he looked into her eyes, sparkling with alarm, poised for pain, and he just couldn’t say it. “Forget it. I told the girls I’d talk to Duke, so just drop it.”
“We should talk about what’s really going on.”
“You got what you wanted. Let it go.”
“Don’t talk to me like that,” she snapped.
Hell. He’d have to tell her the truth now. He couldn’t stand her thinking he was an asshole.
“Can I interrupt a sec?” The voice made them both turn. Rox stood in the doorway. Man, he was popular tonight. Though the interruption was a relief.
“No problem,” he said. “Come on in.”
Heidi smiled uncertainly at Rox, then said to him, “We’ll talk later.” Her departing look lingered, half-wounded, half-worried and a little pissed.
He dreaded the conversation. How the hell could he explain the situation so that it didn’t hurt her pride? Or hurt her at all?
“So, hey, I’m really liking this song…” Rox said, getting close and giving him her ooh-baby smile. She was looking to get laid, he knew from Taylor, since she’d dumped her boyfriend. Tag, he was it, Jackson guessed. For tonight anyway.
“Yeah. It’s good.”
“How do you find your music, Jackson?” she said, moving close enough to look over his shoulder at the laptop where he matched his MP3s with the upcoming list of dancers. She just wanted to give him a shot of her chest, he was sure. Double D and Nature’s own, though he observed that fact without the rush of lust he’d expect from the old Jackson.
“How do you decide?” she asked breathily.
“I follow new sounds. I have friends in the business. And what I play depends on my mood and who’s dancing.” He looked her over. Great body, pretty face and smart. Taking business classes somewhere. Phoenix College? Probably just what he needed to get his mind off Heidi, who would no doubt grill him about his crankiness all the way home.
“So, what do you do on your days off, Jax?”
“Depends on the day,” he said, trying to get more worked up by the possibility she offered him.
“And what you feel like?” She smiled, playfully licking her lips.
He nodded slowly.
“So, maybe we could see what we feel like together?” She ran a nail down the side of the equalizer, near his arm, still looking at him.
If he spent time with Rox, even just hanging out, it would clear some space with Heidi. Remind her they were a casual thing. The idea had the appeal of all-you-can-eat hot wings after a Thanksgiving feed, but he opened his mouth to say “sure.” Instead, he heard himself say, “My life’s complicated right now.” And he was pretty sure it was about to get worse.
FROM THE BOTTOM of the stairs to the DJ booth, Heidi watched Rox hit on Jackson. It was like running her tongue over the rough temporary Dr. Dave had covered her tooth with until he’d cemented the porcelain crown in place. It had made her tongue raw, but she hadn’t been able to leave it alone.
She knew what this was about. She’d been in on the conversation where Rox had declared herself so horny that she’d settle for anyone with a penis and a pulse. Jackson was far more than that, dammit, so why did she have to pick him? Why not Taylor or one of the other cute guys? There was a darling bouncer who seemed perfect for Rox.
Heidi watched Jackson smile at Rox with the same smart-ass grin he gave her. Her heart felt pinched, like a finger in a car door. She was in trouble. Sex with Jackson wasn’t just a new experience, a blast, or breakaway sex. She was like a cocky first-time gambler who’d swaggered into the back room for a hundred-dollar game. Except she was about to lose her heart instead of her shirt.
She wasn’t due for a break, but she needed one, so she hurried out back, breathing in the muggy summer air, trying to settle herself. Her uniform held in the heat, so she didn’t feel cooler, but the golden sliver of moon overhead was so pretty, and just being outside in the dark calmed her. She heard Jackson’s music leaking out of the bar, accompanied by the hiss of nearby cars. She took in the scent of a mesquite grill from the restaurant down the block and tried to calm down.
Would Jackson invite Rox home to moan and writhe and make the mattress creak tonight? Or wait until his day off? Either way, her mouth filled with the taste of metal and she felt faint.
The terrible truth was that she wanted Jackson all to herself. She’d been kidding herself. She cared. Too much. So, standing in the golden glow of the parking lot lights, her heart tight, her breathing shallow, her nerves taut as rubber bands, she made a decision: Get out now. Before you get hurt—worse.
She’d had a lovely time, set herself free of sexual inhibition, developed confidence. She’d gotten what she wanted, right? Any more would be greedy. How could she fall for the first hot guy she’d slept with? It was embarrassing and so small town. Besides, Jackson and she were on entirely different life paths. He was an ex-mechanic bar manager with a music hobby. She was a therapist in training, headed to college, where she’d meet more men, as Autumn had said. When she was ready, she’d find a man to spend her life with, a man with similar interests. Her heart was getting ahead of her good sense.
What’s more, Jackson had sensed it and picked a fight to push her away. He’d read her behavior as clinginess. Maybe he had a point, though it irked her that he couldn’t just say it, instead of quarreling over nothing. They should stop now, before they got hateful to each other.
She looked up at the golden sliver of the moon…it looked like half the Moons logo, as if offering a seal of approval to the place. Her heart lifted. What if she and Jackson could be together? He was a good man. He’d limited his life, but he could do more. She could help him figure out what he wanted—something with the music he loved.
But that was his life, not hers. She was sliding off course, getting distracted by Jackson. Leaning on him emotionally, too. She closed her eyes against the magic curve of moon and steadied herself. She’d gotten carried away from her own lif
e, her own goals. She should look into taking an online psychology class. That would give her a leg up and ease the intimidation she felt about ASU. And distract her from Jackson and his amazing hands and tremendous mouth and remarkable…everything.
With a last sigh, she headed back to beer orders and tip garnering. She’d talk to Jackson on the way home. End it simply, stay friendly. Suck up the pain and count herself lucky for catching it in time. Maybe she’d wait until they got home and she’d be certain not to cry.
JACKSON FOUND HEIDI waiting for him in the Aston Martin when he finished the last hassle of the night. She’d put away the car cover and sat very still and upright in her seat. There was a quiet sadness about her that hurt to watch.
What was she thinking? She was harder to read than the women he’d known, though his relationships tended to be short-lived and based on sex.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “The soda dispenser went wonky.”
“You have a job to do,” she said. He hated how blue she sounded. Maybe she was just tired.
“Listen, why don’t you borrow the van in the morning so you can sleep in a little? Catch up on your rest.”
She turned to him. “I can get to work on my own.” He didn’t like the crisp snap in her words. Mind your own business.
“Just an offer.”
When she didn’t respond, he started the car and headed home. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her. She held her hair away from her face and didn’t lean back to let the breeze blow it as usual. She was definitely upset.
Just wait until he told her they were through. She’d probably cry. The idea made his stomach churn, as if he’d gulped down too many eye-watering enchiladas at Los Dos Molinos.
All the way home, he tried to figure out what to say and when he pulled into the driveway, he realized he hadn’t enjoyed one minute of the night drive he usually loved. The empty streets, the moonlight, the breeze lifting the hairs on his arm, the sense that he owned the night and the city. All that was gone, thanks to the complicated woman beside him. Damn.
He had to get this over with, get back to the calm, quiet life he’d enjoyed before she’d had her Outback stolen from his curb. He pulled into the driveway and threw the car into Park. “Look, I’m sorry I got pissed about the girls’ demands.”
“They’re women, not girls. And you were picking a fight to put distance between us. I get that.”
“I was what?” He didn’t like the you-pathetic-little-man tone in her voice. The voice he liked to hear gasp his name when she came. “Hang on just a minute there. That’s not what I—”
She braked him with an upraised hand. “It’s okay. We should stop.”
“What?” He darted a look at her. She wanted it to be over?
“It’s passive-aggressive of you to deflect the real issue.”
“Passive-aggressive? Deflect? It’s three o’clock in the morning, Heidi. Save the psych mumbo jumbo for daylight hours.”
“Come on. Quit pretending to be this simple, salt-of-the-earth guy. You’re smart and you know people. All I’m saying is to be direct and say what you mean.”
“Okay, we should stop the sex. Direct enough for you?”
“Perfectly,” she snapped. “Good.”
“Good,” he snapped back. He’d meant to be gentle, but she got him going with that superior tone. He looked up at the sky and wanted to howl in frustration at the shred of moon he could see.
He pushed the garage door button and it growled up. He drove in and braked too hard. She was out the door and letting herself into the house before he even turned off the car. Okay, be that way.
He went straight to his room, not even stopping in the kitchen for a taste of something great she’d made. He was especially fond of her cinnamon bread. In his room, he put heavy metal on his stereo so he could lift weights. That’s what he did when he was frustrated, and she’d just have to put up with the noise.
For a few minutes anyway.
The woman was messing with his head, making him feel guilty about how he treated the dancers, how he ran his own life. Lying on the bench, he ripped off some butterflies, pushing hard, working fast, hurting himself. He’d gotten soft eating all that crap she cooked. He had to get down to fighting weight again. Though what the hell was he fighting?
What did he want with Heidi anyway? She’d never be happy with him. She’d be harping on him all the time, digging into his head about his feelings, his motivation, his soul.
Screw that.
He heard her go in the bathroom, followed by the sound of rushing water. She was taking a shower. A shower. Heidi in the shower, naked and beautiful, going pink from the heat, steam making her look like something from a dream. He let the weights clunk to the floor.
They’d had great sex in the shower. No new moves he could think of in water, but with Heidi every time seemed new.
He could slip into the stall right now and make love to her without a word. They deserved a farewell go. A beautiful end to a damn fine time, right?
She’s a baby, Jax, with a shiny new heart that’s never been cracked. Autumn was right. And he could hurt her with no effort at all. Just by being himself. He went for overhead presses, loading on extra weight to distract himself with pain.
He was driving himself into muscle-tearing extra reps when he got a whiff of her flowery scent and his arms almost buckled.
“Jackson?” His name sounded so good in her husky voice.
He barely got the over-weighted bar onto the upright, his vision gray from the strain. He sat up.
She stood in his doorway, backlit by the nightlight in the hall. He could clearly see the outline of her breasts and the curve of her hips through his old Hawaiian shirt. God, she was gorgeous. He leaned forward to turn down the music…and hide his hard-on.
“I’m sorry I was snotty,” she said, folding up her attitude like the Aston Martin’s ragtop. “The point is, you were right. Sex can be complicated when you live and work with someone.”
“It can? I mean, yeah, it can.” Damn, because just then all he could think of was pulling her onto this bench and making love to her fresh-washed, shower-warm body, burying his face in the curtain of her hair and cupping the small mounds of her breasts until she gasped for more.
“And, also…” He watched her pretty throat work over a swallow before she continued. “You should feel free to bring Rox here. This is your house, after all.”
Even in the dimness, he could see that was the last thing she wanted him to do. Seeing her face like this, pained, but being brave, gave him a charley horse in the chest and made him want to comfort her and protect her and promise things he had no business promising.
“I wouldn’t sleep with Rox if she came to me naked with a gun,” he said, his voice rougher than he’d intended.
“You wouldn’t? Really?”
“No, I wouldn’t. She’s not…” You. The word bubbled up, wanted out. He opened and closed his mouth like a desperate bass in a net.
“She’s not what?” Her eyes searched his face, looking for the very thing he had to hold back at all costs.
“I’m just not interested in her, okay?” A strange ache swamped him, so strong he wanted to groan, so he blurted something sure to piss her off. “I’m glad you see this my way.”
“Your way?” She looked irritated, then her face took on a wicked light. “Anyway, now we’ll both be able to bring a lover home without the other person getting weird.”
“Both?” He sounded like a dope.
The possibility of Heidi bringing a guy here trickled through him like acid from a cracked battery, melting the insulation from all his wiring. She would make love to the guy. Moan his name, wiggle and twist and practically pass out from pleasure. Damn. Damn. Damn.
She spun on her heels and left, but not before he caught a gleam of triumph, like welding sparks in the dark. Somehow she’d won this little battle. And he wasn’t in the mood to lose.
And just who did she have in mind
to screw? Taylor? He wasn’t good enough for her. Nice guy and all, but he was a bartender. Surely not someone else at Moons. One of the customers who saw through her tacky clothes to the hot woman underneath? A sleazebag checking out strippers? Surely she wouldn’t stoop to that. She should wait until she got to college and found some appropriate guy and she’d better get proof of a blood test first.
Jackson might not be the right man for her, but he sure wasn’t letting her get in trouble while she was under his roof. He’d talk to her about it. When he could do it without pissing her off. You smother us, Jax. Jasmine was always telling him that and Heidi had declared him smug. He was who he was, dammit, and that wouldn’t change.
Except, he was different, he realized, rolling his shoulders back to ease the tension that idea caused. In little, inside ways. Heidi had started something rolling through him, adjusted his gearing so he ran…well, different.
He had the uneasy feeling he’d never be the same again.
11
HEIDI PULLED her peace offering for Jackson out of the oven to let it cool before she frosted it. Cinnamon bread—his favorite. Living together these past two days since their decision to stop having sex had been rocky. They’d been testy and moody and just plain cranky. They both had hurt feelings, she knew, and she missed his big bear of a body in her bed. And not having sex was definitely making her grouchy.
It was time to fix it. For both their sakes. She needed his help with the dancers’ new act and she had an idea that would help him, too. He’d never agree to it as long as this tension was in the air.
Hence the peace offering, which included the hot oil treatment she’d offered him the day she arrived and a haircut, which he needed. His shaggy hair made him look a bit too ferocious. He was due back from the gym soon and she’d set out a stool, towels, her scissors and the hot oil mix she’d made herself with dried rosemary leaves and olive oil.
She started coffee and set out two Moons mugs, since she wasn’t up for watching Jackson bring bare breasts to his lips, and gave her ficus some water. The tree seemed to be suffering, which was odd, since she watered it regularly. Maybe more light. She shifted it closer to the window, stood back and sighed. It looked the way she felt—wilted and lost.
