One Good Crash

by Sabrina Stark

  From the kitchen, Allie called out, "It's her again."

  As if I didn't know. I replied with a half-hearted thanks and tried to focus on a cheerier dilemma. He said to dress up. But what exactly did that mean? Obviously, I'd need to wear a dress. But how dressy of a dress?

  Unless I wanted to risk answering the door in my undergarments, I'd need to figure it out fast.

  Just two hours earlier, after that tense discussion in the van, Jax had driven me home and helped me haul my stuff up into the apartment. He'd even offered to help me unpack, not that I'd accepted his offer, as thoughtful as it was.

  But the way I saw it, he'd done more than enough already. Plus – I smiled at the thought – I had a date to get ready for.

  Yes. It was officially a date.

  I glanced at the clock, and my smile faded. He'd be arriving in just thirty minutes. And that was assuming he didn't show up early.

  I was dying to see him, but not in my underpants, at least not yet.

  Trying to focus, I gazed down at the three dresses that I'd laid out across my bed. There was my one-and-only cocktail dress plus my two favorite sundresses.

  The cocktail dress was several years old. The sundresses were newer, but not terribly formal. None of the dresses were expensive.

  Would this matter? I sure hoped not, considering that I had no time to shop – or money to burn even if I did.

  I recalled the dress I'd been wearing on the night of the crash. That dress was nice. And expensive.

  It was funny to think that I still had it. But there was no way on Earth I'd ever wear the thing, especially in front of Jax, who'd seen my mom wearing an exact replica.

  Jax hated my mom. That much was obvious. Considering how we'd met, I couldn’t exactly blame him.

  But I didn't want to conjure up any funky memories either, which meant that the pricey dress was definitely off limits. This was probably for the best. Even after a good dry-cleaning, it still hadn't recovered from my little beach adventure.

  Again, I glanced at the clock. Twenty-seven minutes. Yikes.

  I would've been ready an hour ago, if only I hadn't lost track of time chatting with Allie, who'd arrived home just minutes after Jax's departure.

  Eager for girl-talk, I hadn't been able to resist sinking down on the sofa and telling her everything that had happened. I didn't leave anything out either, which turned out to be a mixed bag. By the end, our conversation had strayed pretty far off course, especially when it came to my mom – as usual.

  Allie hated my mom, possibly even more than Jax did. And she wasn't shy about telling me so.

  Of course, it hadn't helped that my mom had called three times since then.

  I hadn't answered, and not only because I'd made that promise to Jax. Oh sure, I was big on keeping promises, but even without this one, I realized the folly of talking to her now.

  I knew why she was calling. Obviously, she'd noticed the missing stuff and wasn't happy.

  But seriously, what did she expect? I'd been on her doorstep at the exact time we'd agreed on. Plus, after packing up my things, I'd even left a note, thanking her for not throwing anything out.

  Jax had just loved that.

  But in my own defense, the note wasn't due to politeness or even affection. Mostly, I just didn't want my mom to think she'd been robbed or something.

  I didn't need the drama, and neither did Jax, whether he realized it or not.

  I was down to twenty minutes when the phone rang yet again. It was still ringing when Allie appeared in the doorway to my bedroom. With my phone in-hand, she said, "You know what you should do, right?"

  From the look on her face, I was afraid to guess. One time, Allie had suggested that I take my mom on a cruise and then toss her overboard. But that had obviously been a joke.

  I mean, it's not like I could afford a cruise.

  Now, Allie was saying, "You should block her number."

  "Why? She never calls."

  Allie lifted the phone, which of course, was still ringing. "Oh yeah?"

  "Well, she doesn't normally call." I gave my phone a quick glance. "You don’t think it's an emergency, do you?"

  "Hell no," Allie said. "If it were an emergency, she'd leave a message."

  When the phone stopped ringing, I listened, waiting for the beep. There was none. No message. That was good, right?

  Allie said, "Wanna know what I think?"

  I tried to laugh. "Probably not."

  "Sure you do," she said. "What I think is that she knows you're going out, and she wants to ruin it."

  "Oh, please. She's not a psychic."

  "Yeah, but she's a psycho, so there's that."

  I gave Allie a look. "Gee, where have I heard that before?"

  "I’m serious," she said. "You really should block it. Do you really want to be nagged all night?"

  I bit my lip. No. I didn't. But the odds of this were slim. "She won't be calling all night," I said. "Probably, that was her last try."

  The words had barely left my lips when the phone rang yet again.

  Damn it.

  Allie chirped. "Told ya."

  By now, the sound was like a jackhammer to my ears – maybe not as loud, but ten times as annoying.

  Allie said, "Alright, how about this? Go ahead and answer, but tell her to fuck off."

  I'd heard this suggestion before and refused to be rattled. "I can't." I gave Allie my sweetest smile. "I promised, remember?"

  "You mean that promise to Jax?" She gave me a smile of her own. "I'm sure he'd make an exception for that."

  No doubt, he would.

  Allie said, "I don't get it. Why wouldn’t you just block her number and be done with it?"

  As if it were so easy.

  Emotional baggage aside, my phone wasn't that fancy. Oh sure, on some models you could block any number with the simple press of a button. But my phone? It was older and not terribly advanced.

  To block any number at all, I'd need to sign into my cell phone account and set it up manually. And then, tomorrow, I'd have to go through the whole process again to unblock it.

  When I explained all of this to Allie, she said, "So keep it blocked, and call it good."

  "You know who you sound like?" I said. "Jax."

  "Good."

  Good? The word was eerily familiar. "Now, you really sound like him."

  "Good," she repeated. "It shows he's looking out for you."

  "You're just biased because you agree."

  "Damn straight."

  When the phone rang again, I wanted to throw up. I looked to Allie and said, "Maybe it is an emergency. I mean, she's never like this."

  "She is, too," Allie shot back. "You remember how she was when she was begging you to move down here. That one Sunday, she called you like a dozen times in a row."

  Well, there was that.

  But even then, the repeated calls had been completely out of character, which is one reason I'd stupidly thought my mom might've changed.

  As if.

  If I were smart, maybe I would tell her to fuck off. After all, my life had been a whole lot simpler when she'd been outright ignoring me.

  When the phone stopped ringing, I couldn't even breathe a sigh of relief, because I just knew it wasn't over. Sure enough, the phone rang again almost immediately.

  I muttered, "Shit."

  "How about this?" Allie said. "I'll answer it, so you don't need to."

  "Nice try," I said with a laugh. "I'm trying to avoid drama, not generate more of it."

  Allie frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means," I said, "that you'll cuss her out, and she'll be calling all night."

  Looking decidedly disgruntled, Allie said, "Hey, I can be nice."'

  "To my mom?" I made a scoffing sound. "Yeah, right."

  "I can," Allie insisted. "And besides, you do want to keep your promise to Jax, right?"

  Yes. I did. Plus, I didn't want to spend my night worrying. Finally, I gave in. "B
ut remember," I said, "be nice. I really don't want any drama."

  To my infinite surprise, Allie took my words to heart. Sounding obnoxiously cheerful, she answered with a perky, "Cassidy's phone. How may I help you?"

  If I weren't so stressed, I might've laughed.

  Instead, I watched with amazement as Allie smiled into the phone. "Uh-huh." She paused. "Oh really? No kidding? Wow. Uh-huh. Oh sure, I'll tell her when she gets back."

  She paused again. "Yup, I sure will. Alrighty. Bye-bye now."

  By the time she disconnected, I was staring. Allie never sounded like that, especially when dealing with my mom.

  "Well?" I said.

  Allie shrugged. "She said that Dominic's in the hospital and she wanted you to know."

  "Really? Did she say for what?"

  Allie gave a breezy wave of her hands. "Some fight or something."

  "Seriously?" I'd only met him a few times, but he didn't seem like the fighting type. For one thing, he wasn't in terrific shape. "Did she say with who?"

  Allie gave another shrug. "I didn't ask."

  In truth, Allie hadn't asked anything. Mostly she'd just listened. Finally, I felt my shoulders relax. "Did she say anything else?"

  Allie gave a cheerful nod. "Oh yeah. She said lots of things about Dominic. But mostly, she wants you to call her when you get a chance."

  Would I? Maybe. Maybe not. Regardless, it wouldn’t be tonight. I looked to the bed, where the dresses were still laid out.

  Allie said, "If you're trying to choose, I vote for the cocktail dress."

  "Really?"

  "Oh yeah," she said. "He won't be able to keep his eyes off you."

  As it turned out, she was right.

  Chapter 47

  "So," Jax was saying, "you got a number in mind?"

  For the last hour, he'd been eyeing me with an expression that I couldn’t quite decipher. He'd been asking lots of questions, too. Some were easy.

  What did I think of Florida?

  Did I like my job?

  What kind of music did I like?

  But other questions? They were tough, especially this latest one, which I hadn't yet answered.

  The whole time, he'd been piercing me with that penetrating gaze of his, like he was determined to figure me out.

  I couldn’t imagine why. I mean, I wasn't that complicated, at least not compared to him.

  We were sitting in a posh restaurant overlooking the water. We even had a window seat, and the setting sun was the perfect backdrop for what should've been a relaxing dinner.

  But I wasn't relaxed.

  I was flustered beyond all reason. There he was, sitting across from me in a tailored suit – open collar with no tie. And here I was, in my best cocktail dress – hell, my only cocktail dress, plus high heels and the only decent jewelry I had, which of course, was nothing spectacular.

  But Jax? He looked good enough to eat, and I wasn't the only one who thought so. Even as we'd been walking in, every female head had turned in his direction. Their looks had been long and lingering, like they wouldn't mind taking a nibble if the opportunity presented itself.

  It wouldn’t.

  Not if I had a say in the matter.

  And yet, I couldn't blame them too much. His stride was confident. His clothes fit like they were tailor-made. His hair was dark and lush. And his eyes were so compelling that even now, I couldn’t bring myself to look away.

  Silently, I was comparing this Jax to the Jax who'd been driving that beat-up van just a few hours earlier. That Jax was rough and tumble – hard and sexy, with a distinct edge. But this Jax? The guy sitting across from me? He was smooth and sophisticated, the kind of guy who'd grown up with servants and a silver spoon.

  Both versions scared me. A lot.

  It's not that I was scared of him exactly, but rather, my feelings were just a little bit terrifying, especially now when he was asking all of these intriguing questions.

  He leaned back in his chair and repeated the gist of the latest one. "So, how many?"

  I blinked. "Sorry, what?"

  "Kids," he said. "You got a number in mind?"

  "Oh. Three or four." I tried to laugh. "Or maybe ten."

  He smiled. "Ten, huh?"

  I straightened. "Or three. You heard that part, right?"

  "Big difference between ten and three."

  I loved kids. But would I truly have ten? Doubtful. For one thing, kids were expensive – as my mom had reminded me nonstop when I'd been growing up.

  Going for a joke, I said, "Well maybe there's three sets of triplets." I did the math and hesitated. "Plus one extra."

  Carry the one, right?

  "Yeah?" Jax said, looking oddly intrigued. "This extra kid, does he have a name?"

  His eyes were so compelling, I could hardly think. Absently, I murmured, "Jax." I gave a little gasp.

  I so hadn't meant to say that.

  And now, that name – his name – hung there like an accidental burp.

  Oops.

  Quickly I added, "I mean, well, it's a nice name."

  He grinned. "Yeah?"

  "Definitely. And um, you could be its uncle or something."

  Uncle?

  Good Lord.

  His eyebrows lifted. "So who's the dad? Jaden?"

  "What?" I forced a laugh. "God, no. Why would you say that?" And then it hit me. Of course, in order for Jax to be the uncle, I'd have to create this fictional baby with his brother.

  Yikes.

  What I needed now was a muzzle.

  For myself.

  I said, "You know what? Forget I said that."

  "I guess I'd better," Jax said, looking highly amused, "unless you want me to kick Jaden's ass."

  I was flattered and flustered all at the same time. Now, I laughed for real. "I was thinking you'd be more of an honorary uncle."

  He was still giving me that look. "But just an uncle, huh?"

  Or something more.

  But there was no way on Earth I'd be saying that, especially on our first official date. And besides, I wasn't even going to think about kids without marriage first.

  My mom had plenty of faults, but there was a reason I cut her too much slack. I'd seen firsthand, it hadn't been easy raising a kid alone with no dad in sight.

  Now, looking at Jax, I didn't know what to say. Finally, I settled on, "Well, we're just joking, right?"

  His gaze didn't waver. "I'm not. Are you?"

  Oh, God. I hadn't expected him to say that. "Honestly, I'm not sure. I mean, I haven't given it a ton of thought."

  This was actually true. Thoughts were a lot like dreams, and I was determined to live within my budget. I'd been doing that my whole life – keeping my dreams small so I didn't end up disappointed.

  Across from me, Jax said, "Go ahead. Think about it. I'll wait."

  I stared at him. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, I'm curious."

  I gave him a look. "Yeah, me, too."

  "Meaning?"

  "Meaning…" I hesitated. "How about you? Have you thought of kids?" Trying not to make a fool of myself, I added, "Probably not, huh?"

  Looking completely at ease, he said, "If I didn't think about it, I wouldn't've brought it up."

  Once again, his reply surprised me. "So," I persisted, "how many?"

  "It depends on the girl. I'm assuming she'd get a vote."

  Something in his tone made me feel warm and wonderful all over, but I wasn't going to let him off the hook. "Oh come on," I protested, "that's a pretty vague answer."

  "Alright. How about this?" He smiled. "Somewhere between three and ten."

  Oh, boy. Talk about a loaded answer.

  I did my best Jax imitation. "Big difference between three and ten."

  He lifted his glass in a mock-toast. "Good point," he said before taking a drink.

  I almost giggled. "Oh sure, just because you said it first."

  "Exactly."

  Slowly, it was dawning one me that I wasn't near
ly as nervous as I'd been just fifteen minutes earlier. It wasn't even because of the wine. I'd ordered only one glass, and it was still mostly full.

  Maybe it was because the sun had dipped past the horizon, leaving us basking in the warm glow of candlelight. Or maybe, it was the fact that Jax was showing more interest than I'd ever seen.

  During all those days at the coffee shop, there'd been a definite spark and lots of laughs, too. But suddenly, things were seeming a lot more serious.

  As I watched, he set down his glass and said, "So tell me, what 's your story?"

  I blinked. "My story? I don't have a story."

  He cocked an eyebrow. "Could've fooled me."

  "If you're talking my life story, trust me…" I looked heavenward. "You don't want to hear it."

  Smiling, he leaned forward and said in a low, seductive voice, "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

  Wow. That sounded so sexy.

  It shouldn't've sounded sexy. We were, after all, only discussing the exchange of information. I said, "Tit for tat, huh?"

  His eyes filled with amusement. "If that's what you wanna call it."

  But already, I was wishing I'd said that differently.

  Tit? Seriously?

  Where was that muzzle when I needed it?

  Jax said, "Ladies first."

  Absently, I said, "What?"

  "You tell me. And then I'll tell you."

  I might've argued, except my own story was nothing spectacular, and I figured I might get it out of the way. Still, I didn't want to give in too easily, so I said, "Only if I get a bonus question."

  "A bonus question, huh?"

  "Yes. A bonus question." I smiled. "In advance, like a down payment."

  The corners of his mouth lifted. "You're a tough negotiator."

  Hardly. But I wasn't going to let the opportunity pass. I smiled. "Then you should probably take the offer, before it expires or something."

  "Nice," Jax said with a slow nod of approval. "So what's the question?"

  There were a million things I might've asked, but there was something specific I was dying to know – something that had been nagging at me for a while now.

  Eager to put it to rest, I said, "The night we met, was that blood on your shirt?"

  The question got me another raised eyebrow. "Blood?"

  "Well, I don't mean a lot, like there was an ax-murder or something. But after you returned from that errand, or wherever you went, I noticed these little spots on your shirt. They weren't there when you left, but they were there when you got back. And I was just wondering, you know, out of curiosity."