Dirty Angel (The List #2)

by N. K. Love

  He looks at me, takes a deep slow breath in as though he is about to say something but he lets it out abruptly and stands up. Taking out his phone, he makes a call.

  Jax paces around the island whilst he presumably waits for somebody to answer. I distract myself with my own phone, reading a message from my mom; We love you too darling. I’m here if you need to talk.

  “It’s Jax, I won’t be in next week. Got some unexpected commitments to deal with.” Shit. He has stopped pacing and is eyeballing me with a serious expression. “I will connect to the network and dial in to all conferences as usual but work from home. Let everybody know I can be reached by email or my mobile if it’s urgent. Thanks.” Evidently a voicemail, or a very one-sided conversation. He puts his phone on the counter and boldly declares, “You’re stopping with me.”

  “What? No I am not Jaxson.” Is he serious?

  “Yes you are Bethany. End of.”

  “Isn’t that wrong on so many levels? Last night was unavoidable. We barely know each other, we’ve both got work… I need to deal with Mike… I… I need to look after the house for Wills, we barely know each other...”

  “Yeah, you’ve said that—” Now I’m on my feet pacing the kitchen in shock that he’s just changed his work plans for me and suggesting this… Whereas Miss Alter Ego is unzipping her designer suitcase throwing in her best lingerie. “—look, I’m not trying to be your knight in shining armour or anything B, but you’re gonna struggle for a few days, trust me, I know. From what you’ve said, you haven’t got anybody you’d go to unless you go and stay with your parents. You’re already working from home and now I am too. You can deal with him over the phone. I’ll bring you back here to check on this place whenever you like…”

  His eyes burn into me. Having answered all my points, he shrugs and continues. “It’s only a big deal if you let it be… B. And yeah, you’re right, we do barely know each other but for some reason I feel like we know each other more than we know, if that even makes sense?” That’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard. I’m still looking at him warily. “It’s not a problem, plus I like your company. And you never know, you could actually enjoy it. I’m not that bad.”

  I’m racking my brain for other reasons to say no but aside from the fact that there aren’t any—unless he is a murderer—I can’t deny that I would actually love to stay with him. Get to know him more, delve deeper like I wanted to and see if my confidence grows or my feelings change when I’m around him.

  “Jax, you make a compelling argument but—”

  “—but nothing. Don’t forget doctor’s orders; no driving for a few days.”

  I lean my elbows on the island and cover my face with my hands. “Jax… Is this weird?” I look back up at him. “It feels like it should be weird. For some reason it doesn’t feel it. Imagine what people are going to think?”

  “None of those lot from the gym need to know. You’re coming back to mine B.” He says it very matter-of-factly. “Go and grab your things.” Say yes, say yes! Jax is the most exciting thing that’s happened in my life in—forever. He represents a brand new open door and he’s inviting me inside. Miss Alter Ego is pleading for me to walk through it. So I do.

  “Okay, as long as you’re sure you’re sure?” Oh my God… Bethany Taylor, what are you doing? Just living in the moment I guess.

  2:00pm

  On the way back to Jax’s, he stopped off at a department store and ran in to grab a few things. God knows what though because I waited in the car and he came out with two massive bags. Shortly afterwards, we arrived back at Jax’s place and this time I have the pleasure of thoroughly taking it all in.

  It’s such an idyllic setting with rolling countryside views and it really does feel like we’re in the middle of nowhere. When in actual fact, it’s less than ten miles from the city centre, in a secluded part of a place called Solihull.

  As we ascend the driveway, I take mental pictures of the unspoilt rural appeal drawing my eyes in every direction, not knowing where to look next.

  I see now why the house was so huge inside, it looks as though it was a main farmhouse with an adjoining barn that has been converted to form part of the residential. Jax pulls the car into the double garage that has methodically organised shelves with labelled boxes presumably for tools and other stuff men keep in their man dens, away from his pristine castle.

  Rather than going through the front door, this time he takes me to the discreet gate in the wall that I saw earlier. Whilst he punches numbers into a keypad to unlock the gate, I step back and look up to the beautiful clear blue skies.

  The peace and quiet reminds me of my parents’ house but instead of sounds of the ocean in the distance, I hear nature; the beautiful songs of birds, leaves blowing in the breeze, no noisy traffic. It’s so peaceful.

  Jax puts his arm around my shoulder to usher me through the gateway, whilst I wheel my suitcase behind me. Now we’re on a large gravelled yard that leads off in every direction. I see Jax step back out to grab his shopping bags. Then I vaguely hear him locking up the gate behind me, he’s obviously very conscious of security because the entrance gate to let us onto his property is solid and coded. This gate appears impenetrable too, the surrounding walls seem unnecessarily high and there’s cameras everywhere. I noticed them out the front and they’re in here also.

  There’s a large outbuilding beside us on the left with three timber stables directly opposite. “No horses.” He confirms over my shoulder, which was exactly what I was going to ask. Not that I’m disappointed, I’m actually scared of horses, even though they’re beautiful.

  Jax guides me with his arm around my waist, I feel him oozing with pride for his home. Whereas, under his warm touch, I’m just oozing oestrogen!

  “I’ll be back shortly. Have a look around.” Jax disappears inside the house with my suitcase and his shopping bags.

  Walking up to a solid wooden double gate at the bottom of the yard, I see that it leads to beautiful green fields of what looks like at least four acres. Wow! All of this is absolutely blowing me away.

  I walk over to a smaller gate opposite to where we were standing. This gate leads into another fenced off huge piece of land that slopes gradually down to meet a large pool surrounded by overhanging trees and a picture-perfect wooden summerhouse at the bottom. Double wow!

  I lean over the gate and manage to reflect back on last night and Mike without the taste of bile in my throat, which is progress I suppose. Given my beautiful surroundings, I’m able to consider my predicament rationally and from a distance. I’m not ready to think about all the specifics of when, what, where, who and why… That time will probably come, but right now I’m content with the facts, which are; 1. This is my next chapter, Mike has just written his friendship out of it. And most importantly 2. We are already separated. I’m already on a different path. One with endless exciting possibilities that I won’t let be tainted by this.

  Maybe it’s because I’m affected by being here—with Jax, at his home—but I feel strangely optimistic. I will endeavour to look at this horrible revelation as a blessing in a nauseating disguise. I will take comfort in the fact that I will never ever doubt our decision to separate. I’ll never wonder if, on Saturday 14th March 2015, I should’ve tried harder to fight for the survival of my marriage. It feels good to make positive affirmations and decisions from crappy circumstances. It’s almost empowering—almost.

  My peripheral vision spots Jax reappear and he casually saunters back over.

  Finally, I turn to his stunning house, which is now on our right-side and it completely befits its surroundings. Now I can take the time to appreciate the detail in all its glory. It bears the perfect balance of original features with modern contemporary improvements that have been tastefully executed.

  I spin around slowly, taking it all in again, everything exudes an air of tranquillity. It’s full of the love in which it’s cared for; nothing out of place, deliberately understated. My belief is tha
t a person’s home is an extension of themselves. This is a reflection of Jax; special, full of love, beautiful, peaceful… Only one difference, Jax is deliberately overstated. His physical presence and demeanour both do a great job at keeping people at arm’s length so they don’t get to see the rest.

  Accept for me, I see it, I always have. Now he’s let me into his home but will he ever let me into his head?

  Jax senses that I’m still deep in thought—but probably doesn’t realise I’m actually thinking about him—so he busies himself with a hosepipe, watering the overflowing colourful hanging baskets. There’s also some gorgeous rustic troughs with ample amounts of similar flowers draping from each of them.

  I notice a huge authentic wagon wheel that somehow doesn’t look out of place, along with a few other random furnishings like an ornate wooden wheel barrow being used as a planter and a stack of four large decorative wooden crates.

  I walk over to Jax and unravel the loops where the hosepipe has twisted as he’s making his way around the yard.

  “Well, I didn’t think I’d be returning this quickly but now I can see it properly… It’s just stunning Jax! Like your own utopia. You really do have a wonderful place here, it’s absolutely breath-taking.”

  “Thank you, it feels good to show it to somebody—to you—and to see that smile of yours again.” He points to the tap near where I’m standing so I turn the water off and wind the handle to reel the pipe back into its caddy. “It pretty much keeps me busy but it’s worth it. My escape.”

  “Who helps you with all the upkeep and maintenance?”

  “I sometimes pay a couple of young lads from the nearby farm. They come and help with the jobs that need more than one pair of hands… Anyway, come on, let’s go and eat.”

  Having been too preoccupied with his proposal and packing, we only picked at that pasta earlier so I’m famished and also keen to see how this gladiator handles himself in the kitchen.

  I follow him into the house through a side doorway where there’s a random bathroom attached to the short hallway. I peep inside and see a shower cubicle and toilet, plus a built in shelving unit full of fluffy folded towels and a shelf of toiletries. It’s as clean as his en suite.

  We walk in, veering to the left, which brings us into this vast living area. It’s open planned and enhanced by high ceilings and exposed timber beams.

  Inside is equally as fascinating as outside. Across the room on the right I can see the front doors we went through earlier and the entrance there steps down into this spacious room. There’s oak floorboards throughout and it smells lush; vanillary and fresh yet totally masculine—unless that’s still the after-effects of Jax being in the room?

  There’s hints of various shades of green intermingled with the oak colouring, bringing the colours of nature indoors, alongside splashes of white. Tall windows bring in an abundant supply of natural light and the furniture is minimal though thoughtfully placed so that the space doesn’t swallow it up.

  Willow would love this, I wonder if she’s ever been. Does he have house parties? I doubt it. This place would be a great setting for a kickass barbeque.

  I wander around slowly taking it all in. I think about him living out here in his bachelors pad impressing all of his conquests when he brings them home. I bet they can’t believe it when they realise, not only is he drop dead gorgeous but he is a domestic god with an amazing home too. I wonder if I’m the only girl he’s bought home and not had sex with. How judgemental of me. It’s probably true though.

  I go to the entrance; the staircase I was practically escorted via this morning is straight ahead and I find another room on my right. I take a look inside and it’s a rectangular shaped office. A large wooden desk is the focal point, facing a window looking out to the driveway and the front of the house. There’s a wall of bookcases with some shelves filled with books, box files, folders and DVDs. I shut the door and retreat to the living area.

  The windows pull my attention back to the yard with the views accompanying it spanning for miles. When I scan the main living room this time, I see a huge plasma mounted high onto the double chimney breast above a large fireplace with logs stacked in an iron crate. I notice surround sound speakers dotted around the entire room. There’s a glass door on the wall, encasing a panel of buttons and gadgets.

  I wonder how much input he had on the decorating or perhaps he hired somebody who chose colour schemes and everything else for him. Jax—or somebody else—has achieved a warm homely vibe even with the distinct lack of personal things, like photographs.

  I decide to follow Jax now so that I can check out the kitchen. A short walk down the hallway leads me into a large sophisticated kitchen that stretches across the whole width of the house.

  Jax is fixing a salad together on a chunky wooden chopping board. I briefly admire how he handles a knife. I’d like to see him manage chopsticks with those strong hands, he’d probably snap them.

  It’s predominantly creams and warm chocolate browns in here. There’s an ivory coloured huge Aga stove with another iron crate of logs nearby. Again there’s beautiful exposed beams, oak flooring and lots of built in spotlights. We’re surrounded by windows that perfectly frame the panoramic views of his land and beyond, like artwork.

  “Not a high glossed surface in sight, impressive.”

  “Not as predictable as you thought huh?” He glances over his shoulder with an eyebrow arched whilst he splits the salad out onto two plates.

  A common theme is that everywhere is immaculately presented. He certainly has pride in his place—and maybe a housekeeper. Some of the windows are actually floor to ceiling glass panels at the back of the room. I’m drawn to them as they overlook the area of land leading down to the pool and summerhouse.

  “Check this out...” Jax walks over to me with a wide grin. He messes with the end panel then effortlessly walks from one side to the other, taking the panel with him. It glides across bi-folding all the other panels with it. It just gets better and better. It’s an incredible feature that brings the outside in.

  The fresh air fills my lungs once more and I step down onto the neatly trimmed dry grass. I kick my shoes off and walk away, feeling the grass between my toes but resisting the urge to lie down and roll all the way to the pool like a child – I don’t think my back would appreciate that.

  This is a home that keeps on giving. Again, I liken this to Jax himself.

  Right now, nothing else matters. My optimism is winning the war and a carefree ball of excitement explodes inside and I don’t want to contain it. Jax has stepped down onto the grass behind me so I skip over to him ignoring the ache from my back and I throw my arms around his waist, careful not to knock my bad hand.

  I bury my head in his chest and cuddle him as tight as I can. I obviously take him unawares but it doesn’t feel stupid and I don’t think I’d care if it did. After a second he wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. We say nothing, we don’t need to. It’s lovely.

  4:14pm

  We’ve just finished eating our chicken salad subs on the porch of the summerhouse, overlooking the pool and we wash it down with an orange juice. It’s such a scenic setting I can completely understand why Jax considers it to be his escape. I enjoy listening to him talk about this place. He easily gets lost in the conversation, revealing a side to him I’ve not seen before. He pulls me effortlessly, perhaps unintentionally, into his magical world where nothing else exists. He showed me photos on his phone of how this place looked when he first bought it, three years ago. The difference is staggering, hardly comparable.

  In 2012, it was a simple quaint farmhouse and barn with fairly overgrown land and a neglected pool. Jax worked on it full time for a year and started working part-time at 24/7 just after that. The main field was the most difficult to get under control. That part of his land descends slightly from the house and veers around to the right surrounded by a brilliantly effective shield of trees blocking the surrounding country lanes fr
om view. But that doesn’t restrict its ability to invite in the beautiful picturesque views.

  Once he’d tamed the majority of the outside, he turned his attention to the interiors. Then nearly eighteen months ago he took a promotion to manage the gym full-time after the previous manager left. Although how Jax leapt from part-time personal trainer to full-time gym manager remains a mystery. When I hinted about that he just gave me some sarcastic remark about being hot property in the world of health and fitness. He is hot property in the world of Beth, I can’t argue with that.

  Jax said he’d needed something that he could consume himself with and he couldn’t believe it when he stumbled upon this property, as though it was fate. I was dying to ask how on earth he affords to live here, considering not long ago he was a PT, but decide that it’s rude to talk about money.

  He showed me various shots that he’d taken over the time he’d lived here, showing the progression he’s made. The achievement is overwhelming. I selfishly use this to reflect on my own life goals; which used to consist of my marriage and Next Chapter. I’d like to replace being happily married with a new goal, something to aspire to, that will make me proud. I love Next Chapter but it’s not something I’ve achieved entirely on my own from scratch.