“Clothes?” Jax asked.
“I put some in the bathroom,” Shep said, pointing to a door off the guest bedroom.
Jax stood up on wobbly legs and made his way into the bathroom, desperate to wash away the night before. What the hell had gotten into him?
Such an easy answer.
Grace had gotten into him. She made his life so freaking complicated. He’d seen her with another guy and something in him had just snapped. It was becoming clearer to him that his relationship with Grace was changing, and he most definitely wasn’t ready for it.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Jax felt relatively human again. He’d never been one to underestimate the power of a shower and a strong cup of coffee. Shep was only an inch shorter than Jax, so the pants were long enough, if not a size too big, but Jax’s belt took care of that problem.
When Jax walked into the kitchen, Shep was at the stove frying something up.
“Smells good,” Jax said, easing himself down into a seat at the kitchen table.
“You’re lucky we’ve been friends for so long, otherwise I wouldn’t give you anything,” Shep said as he spooned some fried potatoes onto a plate and forked on a few pieces of bacon. He loaded up another plate and made his way to the table.
“I was that bad?” Jax asked, grabbing the plate Shep handed him.
“Do you not remember anything after we left the bar?”
Jax tried to think, but after Grace slapped him everything was a blur. But he had a brief image of Shep helping him up the stairs.
“Not really,” Jax said as he forked up a mouthful of potatoes. The salty, crispy pieces were just what he needed.
“You get pretty chatty when you’re trashed.”
Jax’s fork froze on its return journey to his mouth. He looked up at Shep, who was smirking at him.
“What did I say?” Jax asked as the fork resumed its course.
“Oh, you know, just that you’re a moron. You said that multiple times. And you mentioned something about Grace and the taste of her tongue.”
Jax swallowed his mouth full of potatoes, not really chewing them. The sharp edges and heat made his eyes water. He put his fist to his mouth and coughed as he reached for his cup of coffee.
Jax wished he could say Shep was lying, but the taste of Grace’s tongue had been a constant thought of his since he’d kissed her. He wouldn’t be surprised if he’d finally voiced it.
“Not denying it?” Shep asked.
“Did I say anything else?” Jax asked, ignoring Shep’s question.
“A couple random mumblings,” Shep said, waving his hand in the air. “Nothing memorable.”
Shep was full of it, and Jax had a feeling that those random mumblings were going to be revealed slowly, and most likely at the worst possible times for Jax.
“Also, I had no idea how ticklish your feet were. When I was taking your boots off you kept flailing your legs around like I was going to pin you town and take a feather to you.”
“Now you’re just making shit up,” Jax said as he resumed eating.
“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you, but I’m not.”
“You’re going to keep all of this information to yourself, right?”
“Not a chance.” Shep grinned.
* * *
When Jax had decided to buy and remodel the house on the river, he had the brilliant idea that he’d just do it himself. Brendan and Shep had put the kibosh on that little plan pretty quick.
“This isn’t some small favor, like helping you move or watching your dog. This is rebuilding an entire house. Something that will take months to do and will be extensive and exhausting,” Jax had said.
“I’m glad you clarified. I thought this was going to be a piece of cake,” Shep said. “If you only were like a brother to us or something, then maybe this wouldn’t be such a massive inconvenience.”
“Yeah, it isn’t like you’ve done anything for us over the years,” Brendan added. “Like rebuilding Shep’s mustang, or helping me build an art studio for Paige. Or hey,” Brendan said, snapping his fingers in the air, “remember that time you went into a river and saved my wife and little sister’s life? That wasn’t a big deal at all, either.”
“Stop being an idiot. We’re going to help you build your house, because if anyone deserves a place to call home, it’s you,” Shep had said seriously.
Even Bennett had offered his services, which was a godsend really because Bennett worked in construction so he knew exactly what he was doing when it came to just about everything.
Sometimes blood wasn’t the strongest bond. Sometimes your friends were your real family.
But despite that fact, Jax was a little unsure of how Brendan was going to react to the events of the night before. Jax had seen Brendan since the flourgate episode. He knew that Brendan had gotten that full story. It wasn’t that he thought Grace was incapable of keeping a secret; it was more along the lines of Brendan forcing the truth out of her.
That first couple of days after the incident had consisted of Brendan’s jaw bunching up every time he saw or spoke to Jax. But he hadn’t said a word to Jax on the subject of Grace. Jax had the feeling that this wasn’t going to be the case for much longer. He and Grace were having too many collisions of late, and if there was one thing that nobody messed with, it was the women in Brendan’s life. Jax might’ve been one of Brendan’s best friends, but there was no doubt in Jax’s mind that the man would grind his ass into the pavement.
After Shep had taken Jax to go pick up his truck, Jax stopped to get ice and drinks to fill up the cooler. When he pulled into the driveway, Shep, Brendan, and Bennett were standing around the tools that they’d already pulled out for the day.
They got to work right away, and Brendan didn’t say a word about anything to do with Grace. Apparently the events of the night before were being kept from the big bad brother.
Jax’s hangover eased up and he was able to get some work done on the house. By the time everyone parted ways at five that afternoon, the windows and doors were replaced and the new insulation installed. The next thing on the agenda was putting up the walls.
Jax stopped for a pizza on the way home. He threw it in the oven before he got in the shower and washed off the sweat and dirt from the day. After changing into a fresh pair of jeans and T-shirt, Jax grabbed the box of pizza and plopped down on his couch.
The labor of the day had kept his mind occupied, and off Grace. Well, for the most part. She’d managed to slip in a couple of times, as was the norm. But now, sitting in front of the TV and watching an action movie that he’d seen twenty times, he couldn’t think of anything besides her.
He needed to talk to her. Even if they couldn’t be together romantically, they could still be friends. He had to fix it. Had to have her back in his life. He missed her too damn much.
* * *
Grace slept in until after ten that morning. The café was closed on Sundays, and she really didn’t want to leave her apartment. She didn’t want to be around anyone. So she’d spent the day doing a little spring cleaning. And by a little, she’d cleaned every inch of her apartment from top to bottom, blasting music and singing at the top of her lungs.
Now she was curled up on the couch, a glass of white wine in one hand and a Kit Kat in the other. Yup, Grace knew exactly what delicacies to pair up with her liquor. She’d put on an action movie that wasn’t centered on a love story and felt a deep satisfaction every time something blew up.
“And that’s what you get,” she said to the TV as the hero punched the villain in the face.
Just as another building blew up, Grace’s doorbell rang. She muted the movie and put her half-empty glass of wine and candy wrapper on the table. She padded over to the front door and stretched up on her tiptoes to peek out of the peephole.
Of course it’s him.
“Can I help you?” Grace asked, opening the door.
“I was hoping we could talk,” he said, shi
fting on his feet.
“Well, that’s entirely up to you since you’re the one who avoids conversations.”
“Grace, please.”
“Come in,” she said, moving to the side and opening the door wider so he could squeeze in past her.
The fresh scent of him, and whatever soap he used, wrapped around her as he walked by. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, but not audibly. She closed the door behind him and when she turned to face the room, he was standing there just looking at her.
“So talk,” she said, waving her hand in his direction.
He studied her for another moment before he said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For the kiss at the café and for last night.”
“You’re going to have to be a little more specific in both of those instances.”
“What do you mean?” he asked as his eyebrows bunched together.
“What about the kiss are you sorry about? That it happened or what happened afterward?” she asked as she folded her arms across her chest.
“Both.”
Grace flinched. That sucked. She had a desperate need to cross the room and throw back the last of her wine. That was the only way she was going to get through this conversation.
“Grace—”
“And what about last night?” she asked, cutting him off.
“For what I said to you. It’s none of my business what’s going on between you and Preston. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No,” Grace said, shaking her head, “you shouldn’t have.”
“Well, I’m sorry for that.” he said shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Nothing is going on.”
“What?”
“Nothing is going on with Preston and me. Not that it even matters,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not going to change anything. And neither is this conversation.”
“What do you mean?” Jax asked taking a step forward.
“What did you think tonight was going to accomplish? That you’d just come down here and apologize and we’d go back to the way things were before?”
“I was hoping that would be the case.”
“Then you’re delusional, Jax. I don’t want to go back. I can’t go back. Can you honestly tell me you don’t know how I feel about you?”
“Grace,” he said, closing his eyes and shaking his head.
“Can you?”
He opened his eyes slowly and just looked at her for a second before he shook his head again. “We can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because we just can’t.”
“That’s not good enough,” she shouted at him.
“You’re right and neither am I,” he yelled back.
Grace’s legs were moving across the room of their own accord. She plowed into Jax, and he stumbled backward. They would have been on the ground if the sofa hadn’t broken their fall. Grace scrambled onto Jax’s lap, straddling him. She grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him hard. He didn’t resist for even a second. His mouth opened to hers instantly. His arms wrapped around her back, his hands sliding up and down her spine.
This was right. So. Damn. Right.
Grace’s hands traveled up to his hair, her fingers sliding through the soft strands. She started to move her hips against him, her body grinding down on a spot that made both of them groan. And within an instant she found herself flat on her back, Jax now completely in control as he moved between her thighs. Their mouths hadn’t separated once. Their tongues moved together in a rhythm that mimicked their bodies.
Wow. Just. Wow.
Jaxson Anderson was on top of her. He was touching her, kissing her, surrounding her. She never ever wanted it to end.
His hands traveled down to the hem of her sweatshirt and he worked it up her sides, pushing it up past her breasts, leaving them covered by only the thin material of her tank top. She let go of his hair and stretched her arms above her head. She was all for less barriers being between them. As far as she was concerned the clothes needed to start flying, like now.
Their mouths broke apart as Jax pulled the sweatshirt up and over her head. He threw it to the floor, and the second his hands were free he cupped her jaw with one palm, while the other brushed her now errant hair out of her face. He stared down at her for just a second, the look of desire in his eyes so intense Grace thought she was going to explode.
Jax didn’t say anything as his mouth went down to hers again. Grace pulled her knees up so her legs cradled his moving hips. His hands went to the back of her thighs, his fingers sliding under the thin material of her pajama shorts. She grabbed his shoulder blades, her fingers pushing hard into his muscles.
Jax’s mouth left hers and started a journey down her neck, making a path across her skin. He traced her collarbone with his tongue and descended lower to the top of her tank top. His teeth raked the material, tugging at the edge. He didn’t pull it down though. Instead his mouth traveled to Grace’s chest, where his mouth opened wide on one of her breasts.
Holycowholycowholycow.
She arched up into him, her hands going back to his hair.
Cold air hit the wet material as Jax switched sides, his mouth showing equal admiration to both breasts. He kept at it for a couple of minutes, switching back and forth, before he moved back up her body. His lips were on hers again, his tongue diving into her mouth.
Grace moved her hands down Jax’s chest. She slipped them underneath his shirt, touching his skin. He groaned deep in his throat, the vibrations of it rumbling through her body. She traced his abs with her fingertips before she followed the trail down his jeans. She pulled on the top button and then worked down his zipper. She slipped her hand into the opening and stroked him through the soft cotton of his boxer briefs.
And then everything stopped. Jax was off her in a second. He was standing on the other side of the room panting. His chest rising and falling like he’d just sprinted a couple of miles. The look on his face had the sexual heat that had been running through Grace the moment before turning ice cold.
He was doing it again. The stupid jerk was doing it again. He was chickening out, pulling away from her, leaving her.
“Grace I—” he said, shaking his head, still trying to catch his breath.
Grace scrambled up and grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch. She wrapped it around her shoulders as she stood up. She really didn’t want to have whatever conversation they were about to have with her nipples popping through the front of her now very wet tank top.
“Grace—” Jax said, trying to talk again, but he just swallowed hard as he ran his hands through his hair, his T-shirt straining at the top of his shoulders.
“Just spit it out, Jax.”
“We can’t do this,” he said, making a motion between their bodies.
“This?” she asked, trying to hide her shaking hands in the fabric of the blanket.
“We can’t be together this way. It isn’t an option.”
“Because you think you’re not good enough for me? Is that why?”
“I don’t think it, Grace, I know it.”
“Oh, you know it. The all powerful and enlightened Jaxson Anderson. You just know all, don’t you?” Her voice cracked under the strain of not losing it.
“Grace,” Jax said, taking a step toward her.
“No.” She cut him off, her hand slicing through the air to stop him. “You want to know what your problem is? You’ve convinced yourself that all of the garbage your father drilled into your brain is the truth. You’ve turned them into facts, into reality. You’ve decided that you’re not worth it, and I’m done trying to prove to you otherwise. I can’t do the friend thing with you anymore. It’s not an option for me.”
“Grace—”
“Get out, Jax,” she said with so much finality that it even shocked her.
Jax inhaled sharply before he nodded and walked to the door. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even hesitate as
he opened it and walked outside.
The moment the door closed all the air left Grace’s lungs. She staggered to the door and flipped the dead bolt before she fell onto the couch. The blanket that was still wrapped around her shoulders did absolutely nothing for the cold that was raking her body. She pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her face in a pillow, trying to muffle the sobs that just wouldn’t stop.
Chapter Six
Haunted
On Monday morning, Grace was in the kitchen of the funeral home setting up for the Guerdon wake. The food was already made, so it was just a matter of putting it out. She was in the kitchen with Panky, who was making fresh flower arrangements.
Normally the two of them would be talking, but not today. Grace was in a mood because of Jax, and Panky was in a mood because of the assistant funeral director, Missy Lee. Missy was in micromanage mode, and every two minutes she would stick her head in the kitchen and say something to Panky.
“I just think you’re overstuffing the arrangements,” Missy said. “You could use cheaper flowers. We don’t need so many roses and lilies. How about more carnations and daisies? And baby’s breath?”
“I’ll take it into consideration,” Panky said, not even looking up from her arrangement.
“That’s all I ask.” Missy turned and left the room.
Missy Lee might be the assistant funeral director at Adams and Family Funeral Home, but that was just her day job. Her real profession was gold digger. At the age of forty-eight, the woman had been married five times and engaged seven. For a while Missy had found her conquests around town, but with the Internet now at her fingertips, she’d turned to the world wide web to find her new victims.
Three months ago Missy had married Clive Burdgen. He was a furniture salesman in Montgomery, Alabama, with a beamer and a full head of hair. Missy and Clive had known each other for all of about five minutes before they’d gotten hitched. But a month into their marriage, Missy discovered that Clive Burdgen was really Gill Seamore. Gill Seamore had a wife and kids in Atlanta and had fled with the beamer when his Laundromat had gone belly-up. Oh, and also, that head of hair was all hair plugs.
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