ALMOST PARADISE

by Williams, Mary J.

  “Frustration, anger, and betrayal can make a man say and do things he later regrets.”

  “No one betrayed you.”

  “A fact I didn’t know at the time.” Scrubbing a hand over his face, Jax let out a weary sigh. “I thought we dealt with all this shit.”

  “We did.” Needing to make herself clear, Skye chose her words carefully. “The morning everything blew up, you weren’t simply angry. You were deliberately and aggressively cruel.”

  “Skye.”

  The pain in Jax’s eyes tore at her heart. Skye was tempted to stop. But she needed to have her say, once and for all.

  “I understand the tremendous pressure you were under. Everyone looked to you, expected you to stay strong. But I need to know. If—when—we argue, will you fight fair, or find my weakest spot and go for the kill?”

  “I would never— No. Never is a long time, and promises are easy to break.” Jax took a deep breath. “I will try, every day, to be a better man. Not perfect—”

  “Perfection is boring,” Skye assured him.

  “Glad you think so.” Jax cupped her cheek. “One promise. I will never deliberately hurt you again.”

  “I make the same promise.”

  Skye brushed a fall of dark hair from his forehead and frowned.

  “You feel hot.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Hot as in a fever, you fool.” Concerned, Skye touched his face with the back of her hand. “Definitely on the warm side. Do you hurt anywhere?”

  “A little achy,” he shrugged, then coughed. “Nothing to worry about.”

  “Scratching throat?”

  “Maybe,” Jax mumbled.

  Skye always thought she would make a good nurse—if not for the sick people and their disgusting bodily fluids. However, where someone she cared about was concerned, she had an iron will—and stomach.

  “Fever. Aches. Sore throat. When did your symptoms start?”

  “I’m fine,” Jax insisted, trying without success to swallow another cough.

  The car pulled to a stop near the back entrance to Skye’s apartment. Not giving Jax time to protest, she hustled him up the steps, instructing the driver to follow with their luggage.

  “Bossy.” Jax’s chuckle turned into a wheeze. “Okay. I may have caught a slight cold.”

  Skye pointed toward the bedroom.

  “Get undressed and under the covers.”

  “Now you’re talking,” Jax rasped, unwilling to let illness dampen his libido.

  Hiding her smile, Skye thanked the driver, locking the door behind him. She left the pile of suitcases where they lay, prodding Jax across the room.

  “Sex is off the menu. Until you feel better,” she added before he could complain. “For now, you get tea and chicken soup—or whatever I have in the kitchen cupboards.”

  Jax sat on the bed, watching Skye unlace his high tops. Leaning back on his elbows, he raised his hips, letting her ease his jeans down past his feet. He nodded toward the growing bulge hidden by a thin layer of underwear.

  “Waste not, want not.”

  With an indulgent laugh, Skye settled Jax under the covers, slapping away his wandering hands.

  “Down, boy,” she admonished. “Focus your energy toward getting well.”

  “I’m a lousy patient,” Jax called out, his voice following her into the kitchen.

  “No kidding,” Skye snorted to herself.

  “Get naked and join me,” he yelled, then coughed. “I’ll be an angel.”

  “More like the devil with an angel’s smile,” she muttered.

  Replacing the old water with fresh, Skye turned on the electric kettle. Jaxon Cross had all the right moves, knew what to say, how to act. He could charm the pants off the saintliest of women.

  Thank goodness, as irresistible as he was, Skye had a will of iron equal to his.

  Her thoughts turned toward their budding relationship. Jax wouldn’t be happy with a woman he could manipulate, a woman unable to stand her ground, who couldn’t fight for what she wanted and knew as right.

  Skye felt the same. She wanted a partner in life, an equal. If a man didn’t respect her opinion, if his ego couldn’t handle some genuine, occasionally heated, give and take, he wasn’t worth her time.

  “Jax is worth…” Skye searched for the proper word. Only one came to mind. “Anything. Beyond murder.”

  Snickering at the ridiculous turn of her thoughts, Skye returned to Jax with a cup of tea in one hand, a glass of water and a couple of Tylenol in the other. She found him half-zonked out and sprawled across the mattress. Brought down by a common cold. Seemed her big, strong, frisky man wasn’t as invincible as he wanted to believe.

  “Aw,” Skye whispered in sympathy. “Take your pills, then you can sleep.”

  “Never get sick,” Jax groused but did as she instructed.

  Making sure he finished the entire glass of water, Skye tucked him in, leaving a kiss on his forehead and the tea within reaching distance.

  Wide awake and surprisingly energized, Skye unpacked, deciding what needed laundering and what didn’t. She sorted her mail, made a note of things she needed from the grocery store—the list was long. For good measure, gave the apartment a good dusting.

  By the time Skye looked up, over an hour had passed and the sun was up.

  Tiptoeing into the bedroom, she felt Jax’s forehead. Finding his fever hadn’t lessened, she considered calling Sheila Potter, a friend, and general practitioner who lived around the corner.

  You’re overreacting, Skye chided herself, leaving him to rest. Jax has a common, run of the mill, cold. In an hour, when the corner drugstore opened, she would consult the pharmacist about the best over-the-counter treatment; no need for a doctor.

  Armed with a plan, she decided a shower would perk her up. She was halfway to the bathroom when her phone rang. Seeing her father’s picture fill the screen, Skye knew she had a choice. Deal with him now, or later.

  Taking a deep breath, she swiped accept.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Do you ever answer your phone?”

  Obviously rhetorical, Skye ignored the question.

  “You’re up early.”

  “How can I sleep when my daughter goes gallivanting around the world without a word to her father?”

  Technically, he was right. However, Skye had shared her travel plans with his wife, knowing she would share the information. When perched on his high horse, logic wasn’t her father’s strong suit.

  “I’m back now.” Gritting her teeth, she kept her tone light. “How are Joanie and Evan?”

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “We need to talk. In person.”

  Speaking with her father on the phone was bad enough. Face to face, when he was in one of his moods? Skye would rather submit to a full-body wax delivered by a practicing sadist.

  At least she had a valid excuse. Jax’s cold turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

  “I can’t, Dad. Jax—”

  “A bad influence when you were younger. Still is, from what I can tell.”

  Skye wouldn’t discuss Jax with her father, period. The days of him running her life were over. Apparently, he hadn’t received the memo.

  “Let’s get together tomorrow night.” Dinner was a nice compromise. “Bring Gabi and Evan. My treat. You and Joanie pick the restaurant.”

  The silence was deafening. Once, Skye would have caved to his demands rather than deal with his displeasure. Not now. Not ever again.

  “How did your audition turn out?”

  Surprised by the abrupt change of subject, Skye blinked, gathering her thoughts.

  “Good.”

  “Think you have a shot?”

  Skye didn’t trust her father’s conversational, almost jovial, tone. He didn’t support her acting ambitions, a fact he pressed home every chance available. After years of dealing with his mercurial temperament, she knew soon another shoe
waited to drop. If only she could figure out when and where.

  “The decision is out of my hands. Right now, I’m in wait-and-see mode.”

  “Mm.”

  “What do you want, Dad?”

  “The respect a father deserves from his daughter would be nice for once.”

  Talk about a loaded statement, Skye thought. If respect were doled out on merit, Todd Monroe deserved less than zero.

  Not waiting for her response, he barreled on.

  “I’m at the coffee shop a few blocks from your apartment. The Donut Hole. Be here in ten minutes.”

  The line went dead, leaving Skye with unanswered questions and a case of mounting daughter-rage. If not for Jax, she would have screamed, stomped her feet, and kicked the nearest inanimate object.

  What to do, what to do. Normally, if Skye didn’t show, her father would take her rebuff as the insult she intended, go home, and not contact her for at least a week. What he considered punishment was, for her, a nice vacation from familial discord.

  Skye doubted her father would do the unexpected and show up at her door. However, with Jax asleep in the other room, today was not the time to press her luck.

  In case he woke before she returned, Skye wrote Jax a quick note and slipped on a lightweight jacket. Needing one last look, she made a detour to the kitchen for another glass of water and grabbed an orange from the refrigerator. Walking to the bed, she set the items on the end table, next to the cup of untouched tea.

  Jax’s eyes opened as she reached to check his temperature.

  “Hi,” he rasped.

  Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Skye pressed a kiss to his cheek, her fingers toying with the ends of his beard.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Like a limp rag.” Jax dragged himself into a sitting position, his back against the wall. “Going out?”

  Skye glanced at her faded jean jacket and smiled. Even sick as a dog, his sharp blue gaze missed nothing.

  “On my way to the grocery store.” The lie slipped out before she had a chance to think twice. “Anything sound good? Juice? Ice cream?”

  “Nope.” When Skye tried to kiss him goodbye, he blocked her path to his lips. “Don’t want you to catch my cold.”

  Pushing aside his hand, she leaned close.

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  “You were warned.”

  Laughing, Skye covered his mouth with hers. Jax sank in with a welcoming sigh. She figured by now, their germs were on a first-name basis. One more kiss wouldn’t matter.

  “Here’s the television remote. Stay warm. And keep hydrated.”

  “Skye?”

  Pausing at the door, she turned.

  “Hm?”

  “I…” Jax cleared his throat and shrugged. “Just wanted to say thanks for taking such good care of me.”

  “Any time.”

  “Really?” The blue of his eyes darkened. “In sickness and in health?”

  Now? Skye wanted to shout. I’m on the way out the door, and you decide to recite wedding vows? For a skilled musician, Jax’s timing couldn’t be worse. Dang it. She was tempted to crawl in beside him and forget his cold, forget her father, forget everything but him.

  “Hold that thought.”

  When Jax nodded, Skye smiled and ran toward the front door. The sooner she left, the sooner she could return to the man she loved.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  ♫~♫~♫

  THE DONUT HOLE did a brisk business, especially early in the morning when their pastries were freshly fried, and the glossy glaze was at its gooey best. Skye entered the shop, holding the door for a man loaded down with five large coffees, ten boxes of donuts, and an extra bag held between his teeth. He grunted his thanks.

  Customers filled every seat from the crowded countertop to the dozen or so tables. Scanning the room, Skye found her father in the back, tucked into one of the booths, scowling into his cup of coffee.

  Dressed in a pair of jeans, his blue and white Seahawks sweatshirt hiding the growing bulge around the waist as his hairline continued a slow, steady recession up his forehead, Todd Monroe was what he appeared to be—a grumpy, middle-aged man.

  Skye hoped he showed a spark of happiness when at home with his wife and young son. A sweet, generous woman, her father must have done something right to win Joanie’s affection.

  Preparing herself for whatever he had to say, Skye approached the table. To her surprise, he wasn’t alone.

  “Gabi?”

  Eyes glued to her phone, her sister flipped a long, blond braid over her shoulder with one hand, furiously tapping the screen with the other. The same as Skye, she had their mother’s coloring; the lush curves and five-foot-two-inch frame were all from the Monroe side of the family.

  Wearing sparkly Keds, bright, rose-colored leggings, and a fuchsia-colored K-pop boy band bomber jacket, Gabi’s eye-catching, head-to-toe pink ensemble wasn’t to Skye’s taste. Then again, unlike her sister, she wasn’t now, nor had she ever been, a seventeen-year-old girl with confidence to burn.

  “About time.” Gabi heaved an exaggerated sigh, as though Skye’s tardiness cut into her super busy schedule.

  “Hello to you, too.” Skye slid into the booth. “Dad didn’t mention you’d be here.”

  “Both my girls in one place.” Todd snatched Gabi’s phone. “A rare treat these days, so pay attention to me, not your imaginary friends.”

  Snapping her gum, Gabi rolled her eyes.

  “My online posse isn’t imaginary, Dad. I have ten thousand followers on Insta.”

  “What the hell is Insta?”

  “O.M.G.! Instagram?!”

  “Still no idea,” Todd shrugged. “The point is, we don’t get together often enough.”

  “Skye’s fault, not mine. I’m always around.”

  The refrain was familiar, and a blatant lie. Gabi’s social life kept her going morning, noon, and night, leaving little time for family, or—if her grades were any indication—school. Her sister’s main goal in life was to be a social influencer like her internet heroes. So far, her dreams hadn’t panned out.

  Plastering what she hoped would pass for a pleasant smile on her face, Skye placed her order with a busy but impressively chipper waitress.

  “Decaf and a bear claw.” She thought of Jax. “And could I get two chocolate crullers to go?”

  As the waitress zipped away, a young woman, her dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail, approached the table. Biting her lip, she stared unblinkingly.

  “Excuse me. I don’t mean to disturb you, but…” She gulped. “Aren’t you Skye Monroe?”

  Skye noticed the pad and pen and smiled. A few years had passed since the last time she was approached by an autograph-seeking fan, but she remembered the routine.

  “So much for my cloak of invisibility,” she winked, prying the paper from the woman’s grasp. “What’s your name?”

  “Olive,” she breathed. “My friend’s and I watched your video a hundred times.”

  “Thank you.”

  Truly grateful, Skye added a personal note along with her name.

  “What’s it like to sing with Jaxon Cross?”

  Skye’s smile widened at the breathlessly delivered inquiry.

  “What do you think?”

  “Heaven on earth,” Olive sighed.

  “Sounds about right,” Skye nodded.

  Gabi barely managed to wait until the young fan was out of earshot to make a snarky remark.

  “What a total dweeb.”

  “She was sweet.”

  “Not her, you,” Gabi qualified. “Ugh.”

  “Gabi.” Todd’s frown deepened. “Keep your voice down. The world already knows about your sister’s unsavory behavior. No need to add fuel to the fire.”

  At least now Skye knew what prompted the sudden get together. Her perceived unsavory behavior. An ambush was exactly her father’s style—with
Gabi as backup.

  “You didn’t take me to Australia because of Jaxon Cross.”

  Skye cringed as Gabi’s whining complaint hit her ears like nails on a chalkboard. She tried to remind herself that all teenagers were self-centered narcissists. In her sister’s case, she feared the problem stemmed from a bone-deep sense of entitlement, not a lack of maturity.

  After years of making excuses, Skye had to face facts. No amount of time or maturity was likely to set Gabi on a less selfish path. Just in case she wasn’t convinced, her sister’s next words were all the proof she needed.

  “I never get anything, never go anywhere. But you… Everything is handed to you on a silver platter.”

  Skye could accept the envy burning in Gabi’s eyes. But the hate was like a sucker punch in the stomach—unexpected and devastating. Whatever else, she thought she had her sister’s love. Now, she didn’t know what to think.

  “Where’s your self-respect?”

  Reeling from Gabi’s attack, Skye wasn’t prepared when her father joined the battle.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I tried to keep you from repeating your mother’s mistakes. Shouldn’t have bothered. You’re her spitting image—inside and out.” Todd pounded his fist on the table, sending a spoon clattering to the floor. “The lure of fame was her downfall. Now I must suffer the humiliation as my daughter sells herself. And for what? A part in a movie?”

  Flabbergasted, Skye looked around, hoping for an answer. Was she in a dream? Or, more likely, a nightmare?

  “Do you mean The End of Rainbows?”

  “Stupid book,” Todd grunted.

  Deep breaths, Skye told herself. In and out.

  “I didn’t sell anything. Fahma, my agent, arranged the audition.”

  Shaking his head, Todd pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket. He handed it to Skye.

  “I found the article online,” Gabi said with a proud smirk.

  Frowning, Skye noted the source was a famous and infamous online gossip website. The crease between her brows deepened as she read the boldly lettered headline.

  Jaxon Cross and Skye Monroe: Together Again

  Now Skye was confused.

  “The duet we performed was for charity.”

  “Keep reading.”