It’s not that I’m starving. I ate more when I got home from Wade’s last night than I’ve eaten in a long time. I must’ve forgotten to eat lunch yesterday. That or I was just up later than normal trying to wrap my brain around Jaxi Thorpe.
My gaze drifts to the window toward Libby’s, but there’s no sign of life. There hasn’t been since a light came on briefly in the middle of the night.
I swirl some spaghetti on my fork, willing to risk eating with my mouth open if it’s still too hot. My phone rings before I can take the bite.
“Hello?” I say, letting the fork rest inside the bowl.
“Hey, Boone. What are you up to today?” My cousin Larissa seems way too chirpy for ten in the morning.
“Having breakfast. What about you?”
“What are you having?”
“Spaghetti.”
“Odd choice, but okay.”
I walk around the kitchen aimlessly. “It’s all I have, to be honest. But it’s also really fucking good.”
“Where’s it from?”
Jaxi’s face sweeps across my mind. I grin.
“My neighbor’s cousin is staying over there, and she made me dinner last night. But Wade called in the middle of it and made it sound like he was going to lose his business or something if I didn’t help him. So, Jaxi left a bag on my porch with dinner.”
“That was nice of her.”
“It was.” I stroke my chin. “But I really think this is from Hillary’s House. They have that weird oregano-y sauce that I love, and this is it. It has to be. That or she’s a crack cook, and if that’s the case, I need to put a ring on it.”
Larissa laughs. “You? Put a ring on it? Okay, buddy.”
“Anyway,” I say, laughing too, “what about you? What are you up to this morning?”
She blows out a sigh, and I know I’m in trouble.
Besides Coy, Larissa is my best friend. We grew up playing in the creek behind my parents’ house, and she stayed with us more than she didn’t. We were a three-person wrecking ball our entire lives—well, until Coy took off to Nashville a few years ago. Then it was Larissa and me for the most part.
I know her well. By the delay in response, she needs something.
“What is it, Riss?” I ask.
“Well, since you asked ...” Her voice trails off. “Are you busy today?”
I want to tell her I am because I fucking hope I will be. My goal for today is to get Jaxi’s attention and figure out how to spend some time with her. I’m thinking that her meal as a thank-you was really a hint that she’d love more of my scintillating presence. Who wouldn’t? But I can’t tell Larissa that in case she really needs me.
“Why?” I ask.
“I just … I need you to entertain Hollis. Just take him to golf or for a drink or to a game. Are there games right now?”
“You want me to entertain Hollis? Why?”
“I don’t know. He just needs a distraction.”
I peer out the window. No Jaxi.
“What does he need distracted from?” I ask. “Work with me a little.”
She sighs. “He’s been looking for his sister, Harlee, and he can’t find her. It’s like she vanished into thin air.” Her voice drops. “The state only kept records until she was eighteen and even getting those hasn’t been easy. It’s driving him crazy.”
My heart sinks.
Hollis Hudson is one of the coolest guys I’ve ever met. A former collegiate football star, he can outrun you, show you up on family game night, and can eat and drink you under the table with ease. He’s also a talented songwriter. I don’t think Hollis even understands how much Coy thinks of him.
I knew Hollis was going to try to find his sister. I didn’t realize the search had started, nor did I know it was not going well.
“It’s driving me crazy too,” Larissa says in an almost whisper. “Can you imagine not knowing where one of your brothers were?”
“No. It would be the worst.”
“The worst,” she says, echoing my sentiments. “Anyway, could you do something with him? Help him take his mind off it for a while today?”
“For sure,” I say, biting my fingernail. “I’ll call him later.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
I grin. “I mean, you owe me one for it, though.”
“Boone!”
I laugh. “I’m kidding.”
A comfortable silence settles over the phone. I turn back to my spaghetti and see that the steam has stopped rolling off it.
“So, tell me about her,” Larissa says. I know her well enough to know a smirk has settled across her lips.
I also know what she’s suggesting.
I also know she’s not wrong.
“Who?” I ask cheekily.
“I think you said her name was Jaxi.”
Hearing her name makes me grin. “Oh, her.”
“Yeah, her. Are you into her or what?”
Not like I’d like to be.
“I mean, I don’t know how you define that,” I say, laughing. “But I’m kind of hoping to see her today, yeah.”
“Is she going to be a part of the harem?”
I snort and peek out the window again. “No such luck. She’s heading to—get this—Hawaii in a few days. I would make a good beach bum, though.”
“You wouldn’t leave your family.”
Larissa’s absolutely right. I wouldn’t leave my family and move halfway across the world for anyone. The thought is like a bucket of iced water over my head.
I do like the idea of being a beach bum, though.
“Nope,” I say, turning around. “You’re right. I wouldn’t. So that makes this slight infatuation I seem to have with her a little stupid, doesn’t it?”
“No. Not necessarily.”
“Why not?”
“Spending a few days with someone doesn’t mean you have to make over your entire life. You, of anyone, know that.”
I consider the parade of women who has been in and out of my house in the last month alone. There were the usual suspects—two women who come by on the regular because we are all young and single and why the hell not. I watched a movie, and only watched a movie, with a redhead from the beach who seemed uncertain about doing anything else. So, I bought us a pizza, we talked about her tattoos, and then she went home. Not a terrible night, all things considered. And then had a one-nighter with a blonde from the bar who I hope to never see again.
Larissa is right. Thank fuck.
“Excellent point, oh wise one,” I joke. “This is why we’re such a good team.”
“Why? Because I’m smart, and you’re not?”
“Very funny.”
I peek out the window again. This time—bingo!
Jaxi stands in front of Libby’s house and looks down at her phone. A pair of jeans hug her lower half and, on top, a lime green jacket feels like a beacon.
Signal received.
“Riss, I gotta go. I’ll call Hollis later,” I say, heading for the front door.
“Tell her I said hi,” she says with a laugh.
“Will do. Later.”
“Bye, Boonie.”
The blast of morning chill hits me hard. I shiver as I traverse the stairs down my porch. I pretend I’m heading to my car and act surprised to see her.
“Well, good morning,” I tell her.
Her head whips to mine. A slow smile spreads across her cheeks.
“Good morning,” she says. “Did you get the spaghetti I left for you?”
She turns to face me as I make my way toward her.
Birds sing overhead, and the grass is wet from the morning dew. Sunshine streams through the oak branches stretched out above us as I reach Jaxi.
“I did,” I tell her. “It was delicious.”
She smiles.
“I’m sorry for having to leave like that. My brothers never need me so I was a little freaked out about his insistence that I help him.”
I stop in front of her and take in th
e sweet scent of raspberries.
Her hair is piled on top of her head; her skin is fresh and clean. There’s something very straightforward about her—something real and pure—that is magnetic.
“It’s okay,” she says, her freckles shining in the light. “Libby ended up calling me and ….”
She bites her lip. She seems to be pondering something, and I wish I knew what it was. I wonder if she’s replaying a chat between her and her cousin or if she’s talking herself in, or out, of telling me something.
Finally, her shoulders fall.
“What’s going on?”
Jaxi levels her gaze with mine. In it, I can see a concern that prickles something deep inside me.
“So,” she begins, “Libby called me last night. She and Ted are getting a divorce.”
My jaw drops to the ground. “Are you fucking serious?”
My head spins at the news.
“Yeah,” she says. “Libby was pretty upset. I just got off the phone with her again, and she’s heading to her mom’s in Vegas. Ted invited her to San Diego so he could tell her in person. The asshole.”
“Wow. Okay.” Who would divorce Libby? She’s awesome. “Did she say why? It’s none of my business but I’m curious.”
Her eyes narrow briefly. “Ted was having an affair with a woman named Kimmy.”
Kimmy Curtis. Dark hair. Red lips. Mows her lawn in a bikini.
With Ted?
I shake my head to try to focus. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Actually, yes. Can you take a couple of things from the house and save them for Lib? Ted is coming back today and she wants to make sure nothing happens to them.”
“Of course.” I glance up at the house. “Want me to get them now?”
Her lips twist. “Yeah. If you can. I need to get out of here too before Ted gets back because I might kill him.”
I have no idea how I’ll be nice to Ted from this point forward. Sure, his marriage has nothing to do with me, but it is a solid indication that he’s a fuck.
“Do you know anything about the Park Inn?” she asks. “Is it clean enough? It looks pretty close to the airport and has restaurants close by.”
“The Park Inn down on West Chester Street?”
She furrows her brow. “I think so. I just looked it up online this morning.”
I open my mouth to tell her she could stay with me but close it before I do. There’s a look in her eye that stops me in my tracks.
She didn’t like taking Leo’s help for free. Odds are she won’t like my offer to stay with me either—even if I mean it to help her out and not to try to get laid.
Although I wouldn’t be against that either.
“I think that’s a decent place,” I say, racking my brain for the Park Inn. “It’s in a good part of town.”
She nods. “That’s what it looked like. I’m going to call and see if I can get a room until I fly out next weekend.”
“Want me to start getting Libby’s stuff out of the house?” I ask.
Before I can answer, her phone rings in her hand. She looks down.
“If this is about my extended warranty, I’m going to lose it,” she says as she brings the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
Her lips purse together, and I wonder if there’s a person in the world who can take her seriously when she’s angry. I almost prefer this look over the amused one she usually gives me. It’s so animated, and the shadows on her face make her so damn attractive. It’s a definite conundrum.
“This is Jacqueline,” she says, looking at me.
Jacqueline? Noted.
“I can but … what’s this about?” she asks. “Yes, I’m in Savannah.”
The color drains from her face. Her knuckles turn white as she grips the phone for dear life.
My heartbeat picks up as I watch her react to whatever the person on the other end is saying.
“Okay. Yeah. I’ll be there. Who do I ask for?” she asks with a wobble in her tone. “Okay. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you there. Thanks.”
She ends the call. Her gaze pulls to mine. It’s confused and, if I’m not mistaken, worried. Even though I have no idea what she’s worried about, I want to help her because I don’t like this look on her face.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I, um, I need to get to the police station. I need to call an Uber.”
A hundred thoughts race through my mind. Everything from what the person on the phone said to if she’s okay to why she has to go to the police department. I don’t know where to start.
But what I do know just by looking at her is that this has nothing to do with her. Or, at least, I hope not.
She raises her phone to her face.
“I’ll take you,” I tell her.
Her brows shoot to the sky. “What? No. I’ll get a ride.”
“Jaxi. I said I’ll take you.”
Relief washes across her eyes at my offer, and I know she wants to take it. But she’s as stubborn as a mule.
So, I take the option of her not taking my offer off the table.
“Let’s go,” I say, heading to my car. “I just need to grab my keys.”
“Boone …”
“You’re wasting time,” I tell her. “We can talk in the car.”
I don’t hear any objections, but I don’t stand around listening for them either.
And I sure as hell don’t let myself think about how badly this could go given she’s so fucking mysterious. She’s not from around here, yet the local police station wants to see her?
I just follow my gut. And hope it doesn’t lead me wrong.
Ten
Jaxi
The purr of the engine is somewhat soothing to my raw nerves.
Boone pilots the car down the city streets. We float in and out of traffic breezily, as if we aren’t on our way to the Savannah Police Station. The officer’s words pelt me over and over, telling me that he can’t say much until I meet with him face-to-face.
My stomach twists into the tightest knot I’ve ever felt, and a voice in my brain screams at me not to go. That being summoned to the police can’t be a good thing.
But if I was wanted for something, surely they wouldn’t call and ask me to come down. Right?
I close my eyes and remind myself that I can’t be wanted for something. I haven’t done anything. I’m not a criminal.
But what if someone planted my DNA at a crime scene?
I choke back a mouthful of vomit.
“Hey, how ya doing over there?” Boone asks. His voice is eerily calm, only mildly tinged with a curiosity that I feel too.
I look at him. “I feel like I’m gonna puke if you’re really looking for an answer.”
“Well, don’t do it in here.”
“You offered me a ride. To the police station,” I say, raising a brow. “I have to think that you realized I might be a little nervous.”
He rolls his tongue around his cheek before turning at me with a cautious twinkle in his eye. “I figured that women who do breaking and enterings were probably used to this kind of thing.”
I roll my eyes. “Under the circumstances, I’m not laughing.”
“Oh, come on. That was funny.”
“Maybe later it will be.” I focus my attention back on the road. “Time will tell.”
He regrips the steering wheel. “You really don’t know what this is about?”
“No. Believe it or not, I have had one interaction with the police. That was about three weeks ago when my landlord told me I could pay my rent in blow jobs and I threatened him with a baseball bat.”
A shadow sweeps across Boone’s face. His jaw tightens. “He did what?”
I ignore the question. It doesn’t matter.
“So, unless they have a question for me about that or if Chuck decided to press some kind of charge on me for something—I have no idea.”
“Chuck’s the landlord?”
I nod.
&nbs
p; He lets his gaze linger on me for a long second before looking at the road.
Boone flips the turn signal, and as we take an exit to the right, the gray building comes into view. With each roll of the tires closer, the sicker I get.
Something is wrong. I can feel it.
My palms sweat as Boone parks the car, and my heart races as he turns off the ignition. Silence descends upon us, and I feel like I’m drowning in it.
“You don’t have to wait,” I tell him.
I’m not sure how much time passes with me sitting next to him, my eyes fixed on the large doors leading into the precinct. But eventually, I realize that there has been no response.
I turn my head and see him sitting with one arm draped over the steering wheel.
“Either I’ll be right here or I’ll go in with you,” he says. “Whatever you want.”
A lump settles in my throat at the genuineness of his words. Why is he so nice to me?
“That’s not necessary—” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“I gave you two choices.” He grins softly. “Pick between them.”
I open my mouth to argue again, but the grin pulls into a smirk, and I know he’s not going to give in.
The door to the station opens and snatches my attention away from Boone. Instantly, my chest tightens with anxiety.
“I’m going with you,” he says with a finality in his tone. “Let’s go.”
I want to tell him no, but he’s already out of the car. And, if I’m being honest, the idea of walking in there alone puts me on the verge of blacking out.
Boone waits for me at the front of the car. I climb out and close the door. With one foot in front of the other, I make my way to him. He stands tall and sturdy as if he’s not the least bit concerned that he’ll be nabbed as a co-conspirator in some made-for-television drama that he knows nothing about.
Hell, I’m worried about it, and I know I’m innocent.
We make our way across the parking lot. Gravel crunches under our shoes. The sun is bright, a weird juxtaposition to the situation.
“I was thinking,” he says as we get to the door. “I’ll cook for you tonight.”
“What? Why are you thinking about that?”
“Isn’t it obvious that I might just like spending time with you,” he says, echoing the statement I gave him a few minutes ago.
Reckless (The Mason Family Series Book 3) Page 8
