“With Jax,” she says simply.
“Yes, Jax,” I say. “And I . . .” My rant stops as I realize what I just said. I want to start over with Jax? Did I really just say that? “That’s not what I meant.”
Mom reaches for me, directing me back to the bench and placing her hand on top of mine. Looking around, I notice some red poinsettias placed for decoration. Everything looks picture perfect, like it’s there for a reason, a purpose. Have I been brought home this Christmas for a reason?
“There was always a spark between you and Jax. You and Luke, I never understood that,” my mom says.
“Mom?” I cry out. “You love Luke.”
“I do. And you always loved him, too,” she says. “But there’s love and then there’s love. Jax would take a bullet for you. Luke would push you out of the way. There’s a difference.”
She takes a bite of a cookie, letting that sink in. “Why didn’t you ever say that before?”
“Because what you had with Luke was safe, steady. That’s what some people want. Others want the passion, but that kind of love can be dramatic. Each person has to decide what they want in their life.”
“What if you want both?”
“Jax,” she says.
CHAPTER NINE
JAX
“You’re a total man!” Skylar cries playfully, placing her hand on my chest, a fake attempt to hold me back. We weren’t home two seconds before I pinned her to the door, kissing her neck. “All you think about is sex!”
“I didn’t say a word about sex,” I say, leaning back in, letting my fingers roam up her thighs, feeling her quiver beneath my fingertips. “But I believe that’s the second time you’ve brought it up today. Just now, and there was something earlier about me getting into your panties.”
She hooks her fingers in the belt loop of my jeans, pulling my hips into hers. “You trying to tell me you’ve never thought about me and you?” she asks.
“Thought about, dreamt about, fantasized about, beat off to it,” I say, kissing her neck.
“You’re bad,” she whispers.
“You never,” I whisper, unbuttoning her jeans, “thought about me touching you?” She trembles underneath my touch as my fingers slip under her panties. “Tell me, Skylar.”
“Your mouth,” she says, kissing me then gently biting my bottom lip. Fuck! “I’ve thought about you kissing me all over.”
Gentleman’s Rule—When your woman asks for something in bed, comply—you’ll be glad you did.
Lifting her, she wraps her legs around my waist, my cock finding his home between her thighs. My hands on her ass, I head toward the sofa. “Wait!” she whispers, looking toward the front door. “I heard something.”
“It’s nothing,” I say, leaning in to kiss her again, but she hops down off me just as a loud banging starts on my front door.
“Told you,” she says, fixing her hair and clothes.
I try to stop her. “It’s probably just the postman delivering a package.”
She playfully swats my hands. “Answer it.” I motion down to my very hard dick. There is no way to hide him at the present moment. Smiling, she rolls her eyes. “I’ll get it.”
The knock comes again, and I blow out a deep breath. Skylar opens the front door to a flurry of red hair. “Thank God you’re home,” Maci says, stepping inside, a twin on each hip. “I need your help. Of course, I tried calling, but you never have your phone on these days.”
“Everything alright?” Skylar asks.
“Harper, Parker,” Maci says, putting them down. “Go look out the window at Uncle Jax’s pool, but don’t go outside.”
Skylar tussles their hair as they run past her. They each give me a high five. They’re only four, but they are fast little suckers, running across the room to the sliding glass door to take a look outside.
I step closer to Maci and Skylar. Maci looks over my shoulder at the twins then lowers her voice to a whisper. “We bought them this outdoor playhouse for Christmas, and I just got an email that it’s been recalled!” She pushes on her eyes a little bit. “They’re four, so they are all about Santa. I can get another kind, but I need to drive to Pensacola to get it. Malcolm’s waiting on me. Can you please watch the twins for me? I’d ask my parents or Malcolm’s parents, but they went to some music show or something together. Please, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency.”
Skylar looks back at me. She seems as disappointed as I am about this turn of events. “Sure,” I say.
“Thank you,” Maci says, rushing to kiss her kids on top of the head. “Aunt Skylar and Uncle Jax are going to play with you this afternoon. I’ll be back later.” Then she mouths “thank you” to us and heads out.
“Wait,” I call after her. “Do they nap or anything?”
“Not anymore,” she calls out before hopping in her car.
“Oh shit,” I mumble under my breath. “No nap.”
*
My house is great, but it’s not exactly kid friendly. I don’t have kids’ toys. They got scared playing hide and seek. It’s too chilly to use the pool, and Maci is very strict about the use of technology to babysit her kids—so no television and no video games.
Skylar and I brought them outside to build Waterscape’s version of a snowman—a sandman.
No snow, no problem. The kids wanted their Uncle Jax to make them a snowman. We’ve got sand. We’ve got water. One sandman, coming right up.
It’s actually not that hard. You use many of the same principles when building a sand castle. First, you collect some wet sand, gather it in your hands, squeezing out as much water as you can, then cover it with dry sand. Make various sizes, stack them up, use whatever shells, seaweed, or driftwood you can find on the beach to decorate. Boom! A sandman.
We’ve been out here for hours. Harper loves to build, put them together, and make them “cute,” while Parker likes to crush them. It’s the four-year-old version of war of the sexes.
“Stop it,” Harper cries, crawling into my lap.
“Parker,” I say, taking his hand. “Why don’t you try building something instead of destroying everything?”
“No,” he says, plainly. “This is more fun.”
Skylar cracks up laughing. I look up at her in her oversized sweater and shorts, her hair pinned on top of her head. She’s enjoying this a little too much.
“I had a sand daddy, a sand mommy, and a sand baby,” Harper cries, hugging my neck. “And he smashed them.”
“Help me,” I mouth to Skylar.
Grinning she takes one of both their little hands. “Parker, let’s help your sister fix her sand family, then we can bury Uncle Jax in the sand.”
“Yay,” he yells, immediately starting to make some more sand balls like I taught him.
She takes Harper’s hand, and they start combing the beach, looking for things to decorate with. Skylar’s smart, beautiful, sexy, funny, and now I see, even amazing with kids. How can one woman be that perfect?
“Have you seen snow?” Parker asks me.
“Sure have,” I say.
“Do these look like snowballs?” he asks, holding up his ball of sand.
The kid is brilliant. I’d forgotten all about the sand ball fights we used to have as kids. Malcolm, Luke, and I used to pummel each other. It was the best time. The sand ball war when we were twelve was epic, lasting two days. Leaning over, I whisper in Parker’s ear, telling him the game plan—the rules.
See, there are always rules.
Basically, I let him know that Skylar is our target and not to hit his sister. I stack up as many sand balls as his little hands can carry then get to my feet.
“Attack!” Parker yells, as I grab Skylar from behind, lifting her in the air slightly as Parker tosses the balls at her. He’s little, so he’s not throwing hard.
Skylar’s laughing and screaming, and even little Harper grabs a ball to toss at her.
“Jax!” Skylar cries. “I’m going to get you.”
�
�Reload!” I tell the kids as Skylar wiggles free from my arms.
She turns around, and I catch her, planting a kiss on her lips. Her hands go to my hair, and I lift her up a little. We can’t get too carried away. There are children present.
“Mommy! Daddy!” Harper and Parker suddenly both yell.
Like she’s in the military, Skylar leaps out of my arms and snaps to attention.
“We had so much fun with Uncle Jax and Aunt Skylar!” the kids say, hugging their parents.
“I see that,” Maci says, her eyes wide.
Malcolm clears his throat. “Come on kids, let’s go.” He tries to take Maci’s hand, but she yanks it away, heading in our direction. Malcolm’s a few steps behind her, motioning for us to move a little farther away from the kids, where everyone can still keep an eye on them, but their little ears won’t hear what’s about to go down.
“How long has this been going on?” Maci asks. “Is this why you broke up with Luke?”
“What? No!” Skylar says.
“I thought you told me everything. I thought I knew you,” Maci says. “But now I don’t know.”
“Maci,” Malcolm says, placing his hand on her shoulders. “This isn’t our business.”
She shakes her head at me. “Jax, this has to be the most selfish thing you’ve ever done. I don’t care what Luke did. You’re hooking up with your best friend’s ex!”
“This doesn’t involve you, Maci,” I snap, wrapping my arm around Skylar, who’s now in tears.
Malcolm throws me a warning look. He may know I’m right, but he’ll take up for his wife no matter how wrong she is. “Let’s go, Maci,” he says, but she shrugs him off again.
“We don’t have to explain ourselves to you,” I say, keeping my voice as even as possible.
“Yeah, you do. We are all friends. What do you think is going to happen when Luke finds out? Do you think we can all be friends after you betrayed him like this?”
Skylar’s shoulders start to shake, and she’s crying harder now. “I don’t think we were all going to be friends after what he did to Skylar, anyway,” I say.
“Oh,” she says to me, throwing her hands up. “So just move in on his girl then.”
“Please stop,” Skylar says.
“Maci, that’s enough!” Malcolm barks, and she throws her husband a death stare.
Dude just broke one of the cardinal rules.
Gentleman’s Rule—Your woman is right, even when she’s wrong.
“You should go,” I tell them.
Malcolm nods, but Maci turns back to me. “Don’t like what I have to say, so you’re kicking us out?”
“I don’t like that you’re making Skylar cry,” I say.
Skylar wipes her face a little. “I’m fine,” she says.
“Jax, you don’t like the truth,” Maci counters.
“Here’s the truth,” I say. “You’re the one being selfish right now. You’re only thinking about how this is going to affect you. You don’t care one bit about how happy Skylar and I are.”
Skylar looks up at me, shock in her eyes. Did she not realize how damn happy she’s made me the last few days?
“I am thinking about Skylar. She’s coming off a breakup!” Maci says, snapping her fingers. “She can’t just move on like that. Did it ever occur to you that she might need some time?”
“What would you know about it?” Skylar asks, finally getting in on the action. “You’ve only been with Malcolm, so please don’t tell me how to act. If you found Malcolm in bed with another woman, you have no idea what you’d do. There are no rules for this.”
“I know I wouldn’t sleep with Jax!” Maci cries.
Malcolm and I look at each other, and we can’t help but laugh. Women are crazy sometimes. Skylar looks up at me, and starts giggling herself. She raises an eyebrow at Maci, who rolls her eyes. “No offense, Jax.”
“None taken,” I say. “I wouldn’t sleep with you, either.”
Skylar reaches out and takes Maci’s hands. “Jax and I aren’t sleeping together.”
“Yet!” I tease.
“Not helping,” Skylar scolds me playfully then turns back to Maci. “I’m actually glad you know.”
“Watch out,” Malcolm says. “They’ll be talking about you now, Jax.”
Skylar says, “I know this is a shock, but . . .”
“I’m worried about you,” Maci says quietly. “Luke is his friend. There’s no way for this to end well.”
The tears start falling again, and Skylar quickly walks off, heading back to my place. But I stand my ground on the beach, wanting to ram my fist into something.
Maci turns to me. “Do you expect us to keep this from Luke?”
“I didn’t realize you were talking to Luke. I thought you were pissed at him for what he did to Skylar.”
“I am!” she cries. “But he talks to Malcolm. Calling him every damn day in tears over losing her.”
I look at Malcolm, his nod confirming that Luke isn’t moving on from her. Can’t say I blame him, I’ve never been able to truly move on from her, either. But I know Malcolm. He’s a man of few words, and he keeps his nose out of other people’s business. He won’t say a word to Luke. He’s not a liar, though. If Luke asks him directly, Malcolm would be honest, but Luke has no reason to do that. No reason to suspect that his friend and his ex can’t keep their hands off each other.
“Doesn’t our friendship mean anything to you?” Maci asks me.
“Does Skylar’s mean anything to you?” I bark. “A friend sticks by you through thick and thin. They are there to help you pick up the pieces when you fall on your face, not just when you agree with them. I suggest you think about that!”
I give Malcolm a nod, hug the kids, then walk toward my house. I know how much Maci means to Skylar. How much girlfriends mean to each other. This is bad.
It’s time for damage control.
Hurrying inside, I expect to find Skylar packing her stuff to leave or face-first on the sofa in tears. Instead, she’s standing in front of the gingerbread house we made, her fingers gently touching the candy decorations. I watch her for a moment, how delicately she moves. I can almost see the thoughts in her head, the doubt hanging over her like a dark cloud.
She knows I’m there and says, “Maci’s not wrong. We’re going to hurt someone we both care about. And for what? A roll in the sheets? A few kisses?”
“This is way more than that,” I say.
“How are we supposed to do this? Our friends don’t even support us.”
“Malcolm will be fine,” I say. “Maci’s only thinking about Maci right now.”
“And we’re just thinking about us.”
“And it’s about damn time,” I say. “It should’ve been us at prom. We should’ve been college sweethearts. We should’ve been each other’s first.” I reach out and take her hand. “The past ten years should’ve been mine.”
“Oh fuck me,” Maci says, coming through the sliding glass door. “If you don’t sleep with him after he says something like that, then I will.”
Skylar starts laughing through her tears. Maci comes over, and they hug each other. They don’t fight often, and when they do, it usually doesn’t last long. All their fights end the same way—like this—a long hug.
Maci pulls back and says, “I’m a bitch. I’ll blame it on the pregnancy hormones. I’m sorry. It’s not my place to judge.”
Skylar takes my hand. “Believe it or not, this has nothing to do with Luke. I’m not trying to hurt him.”
“But you know it will when he finds out,” Maci says softly.
“I know,” Skylar whispers. “Jax and I are taking things slow.”
We are? Since when? Was it slow when I had her pinned against the wall earlier?
“I don’t want you hurt again,” Maci says to her. “And I know it’s going to hurt you to hurt Luke this way.”
“If there was any way not to hurt Luke, I’d do it,” I say. “But . . .”
&
nbsp; “You’ve felt this way about her a long time,” Malcolm says, stepping inside, a kid in each arm. Maci turns to him. “Senior prom, he got drunk, told me everything. Still looks at Skylar the same way now.”
Maci and Skylar both look at me with their jaws on the floor. Shaking my head at Malcolm, I say, “Dude, you say like fifty words a day, and you decide to spill that right now?”
Malcolm laughs, “Let’s go home, Maci. Think we’ve done enough damage for one night.”
A few hugs more, and they leave. I shut the door behind them. Things aren’t perfect. I think that might take a little time. Maci said some things that really hurt. I know Skylar will act like she’s fine, that none of it bothered her, but it’s going to take some time.
I look over at Skylar. There’s no telling what she is thinking. Does she think this is a mistake? Does she want to stop while we still can? Before anyone gets hurt?
“Well, that’s the last time I babysit for her,” Skylar jokes.
I run my fingers through her long brown hair. “You okay?”
She smiles and shrugs. “Maybe I should call Luke.”
My heart misses a beat, maybe two. “You still love him?”
“Jax,” she says, turning away. “Don’t ask me that.”
Fuck, I guess somewhere inside me I knew she did. It would be impossible for her not to. They haven’t been apart very long, plus they spent a lot of years together. Still, it stings. No, it fucking burns like someone’s taken a hot branding iron to my heart.
“I’m always going to love him. We shared a lot together,” she whispers. “But that doesn’t mean I want to be with him.”
“But it might mean that you’re not ready to be with someone else.”
Her blue eyes hold mine. “If it were anyone else, you’d be right,” she says, stepping closer. “But you’re not just anyone else.”
That time her words make my heart speed up. “What would you say to Luke?”
A Gentleman for Christmas Page 7
