Текст книги "Middle of Knight"

Автор книги: Jewel E. Ann

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

A lot, starting with her dignity and her mind. Maybe he made a valid point. There was just one problem. The cradle she wanted to rob had a warning sign that said “celibate.”

Chapter Five

“Your favorite neighbor just pulled in his garage,” Jackson announced as he came in the back door, dripping with sweat.

Jillian didn’t care, at least that’s what she told herself every morning to muster the strength to get out of bed.

“No response?” He plopped down in the chair next to hers. “Good. Let’s talk about me then.”

His mouth held a pleasant smile, one that said he had a secret ready to burst from his lips. He marked time much better than she did, going through the motion of each day like a good soldier. But it had been a while since she’d seen him look happy.

“Let’s.” She found her own smile. It was his moment.

“I know I was a little pissed about you telling Ryn that I’d taken a vow of celibacy … which I did not do.”

“You had sex.”

“I did not.” His grin held firm. “But I think I should now. I think I’m ready.”

“I agree. You should, but not with Ryn.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because she works for us.” Jillian drummed her fingers on the table. A tight grin pulled her lips into a firm line.

“She works for you. Technically, I think you hired her.”

Jillian shook her head. “She’s probably married with kids. Don’t be a home wrecker … that has never been your thing, so don’t start now.”

“She’s not married. I asked.”

“Are you going to marry her?”

“What does that matter?”

“Because this house has never looked so clean and unless you marry her it will eventually end with her quitting because of you. And … she’ll probably quit working for AJ too, just so she doesn’t have to be in the same neighborhood as you.”

“You’re full of shit. Look at yourself. You’re a walking disaster. I had to pick up your room before Ryn came just so she could find the floor to vacuum it. You’ve been a slob your entire life. And a certain doctor that I shall not name … he knew it too, and it drove him crazy, and you know I’m right. I know for a fact you thrive in disorder. So either you intended Ryn to be a gift for me or you’re using her to worm your way back onto AJ’s good side. And just to be clear … I’m not sure he has one.”

She stopped drumming her fingers on the table and rolled her eyes. “Fine, but do me a favor. Choose what it’s going to be and make sure she understands.”

Jackson shook his head. “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

“If it’s just sex, then make sure she knows up front. Otherwise …”

“Otherwise what?”

“Marry her.”

Jackson laughed. “I’ll ask her on Tuesday which she prefers.”

Jillian didn’t want to laugh. She’d been in the worst mood since she last saw AJ and her depression began to feel like a security blanket—dark but warm.

Unfortunately, she envisioned Jackson asking Ryn if she’d rather have sex with him or marry him and the image brought a huge smile to her face.

“That looks good on you.” He smiled back. “Now go.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Go where?’

“I know you’re dying to go next door.”

She wasn’t.

“Lay it on the line. Don’t take any of his crap and call me if you need backup.”

“You don’t even like him. Why do you care?”

“True. But I think Jillian needs him.”

Loving Jackson came easy, even when he acted the part of a paranoid, overprotective ass. Eventually he came around and supported her with only one goal: for her to find happiness. Was AJ her happiness? Could she be happy watching him die? Did he have to die?

*

Jillian hadn’t prepared herself for the defeat in AJ’s eyes when he answered the door. She expected grumpiness, and anger, not shoulders curved inward, eyes devoid of life.

“Can I come in?”

The hollow man before her nodded once.

Grabbing two beers, he handed one to her. She shook her head. There was no need for an SOS. He wasn’t dying.

He wasn’t dying.

“I need you to live.” Her voice, barely a whisper, squeezed past the lump in her throat.

AJ leaned against the counter, staring at his feet. “Sorry.”

She wanted to tell him everything. He would fight for himself—fight for her—if he knew about her past.

“I know what it feels like to want to give up. I know what it feels like to not feel in control of your body. Living is so much harder than dying.”

His cynical laugh sliced through the thick air. “You have experience with dying?”

There existed a headstone with her former name on it. In many ways she was dead. After all, a person couldn’t live without a heart, and hers resided in San Francisco.

“I do.”

He laughed again. “But let me guess … you can’t tell me about it.”

“You know what pisses me off the most? You’ve had one opinion and you’re already planning your funeral. Just because some neurologist or oncologist thinks your tumor is inoperable doesn’t mean another more experienced or more confident doctor would.”

AJ looked up at her. “So that’s a no answer yet again to your past.”

“We’re not talking about my past, we’re talking about—”

“Well I think we should. It’s a moot point talking about my future that no longer exists. I’ve told you about my past. I think all that’s left to talk about is yours.”

Anger gripped every nerve as she fisted her hands at her side. It was a low blow. He didn’t need to push her away with her own past.

“I love you.”

He shook his head. “You’re reciprocating. I didn’t ask you to say it back. I said it because I needed to make peace between us. You’re saying it because you’re scared and pissed.”

“I think telling someone you love them after you find out you’re ‘dying’ would be classified as an act of fear or anger, so please don’t feed me this line of bullshit that you had some romantic epiphany about us on a whim.”

“Are you done?” His face turned to stone, eyes cold.

She stepped closer until they were toe-to-toe. “I’m just getting started.”

“I don’t want to hear anymore.”

“Well. I. Don’t. Care.” She poked his chest with each word. “You have two parents and a son that will be devastated. You don’t enlist in the air force and fight to stay alive to make it home to your family just to turn around and give up. You’re not a fucking coward so stop acting like one.”

“Six months.” He glared at her.

“What … what are you talking about?”

“I saw the oncologist. It’s cancer and he gave me six months to live … with treatment.”

She stared at his chest. How did his heart feel about that? Hers remained hollow. It had been for many months. Those were crushing words. Luckily, she was safe. No heart. Nothing to crush. But for some reason, his words filled that empty space and formed into something living, beating, and aching so damn bad. How could nothing feel so painfully like something?

“Now that I have your undivided attention let me tell you the rest.”

Her head inched side to side. Through a haze of shock her eyes remained fixed to his chest. He had something to live for. You don’t stop fighting if there’s something worth fighting for. She had Jackson, they kept each other alive. One … just one person was enough. How could AJ not see that?

“Sometimes I get blurred vision, but it’s been easy to relate it to my headaches because they’re so frequent. I don’t remember some things, but I’m getting older so I just figured it was age.”

The day of his accident he’d forgotten their dinner date. The night he took her for a ride on her Harley he acted confused when she reminded him about his parents and Brooke’s family coming for Cage’s game. Fucking twenty-twenty hindsight.

He continued. “It’s all going to get worse. I’m taking medication for my headaches and seizures, but it’s not a cure. If I do nothing I could go blind in less than two months. If I agree to radiation and try to squeeze out six months, I could experience worse headaches, nausea, vomiting, extreme fatigue, hearing loss, difficulty with speech and memory, and more seizures. If I become the exception and make it past the six months, then they tack on stroke-like symptoms and poor brain function. The fatigue and medications could lead to erectile dysfunction. No sex.”

He lifted her chin with his finger, but she would not give him her tears.

“Sound like fun to you?”

The strong woman who came in the door vanished, leaving a ghost biting her quivering lip, hating herself for being so weak.

Her pain softened his rigid scowl of determination.

“I. Love. You.” His words ripped through the imposter of a heart in her chest. “I’ll do this for you, but you have to know it’s going to feel like the most painful kind of love ever. You need to get that. I would never blame you for turning and walking away. It’s your choice. Are you in?”

AJ didn’t realize Jillian … Jessica … had already experienced the most painful kind of love—letting go. Holding on was so much easier than letting go. It’s the reason she held on to Jessica and held on to her memories of Luke.

“I’m in,” she whispered.

The pain in his eyes intensified. He cradled her face in his hands, shaking his head. “You’re so stubborn.”

Contumacious.

The man who’d made claim to her empty chest, kissed her hard but she would not blink. The next day she’d pull it together, make some calls, and find a doctor that showed some optimism. That night, however, she surrendered her emotions and then her body.

*

“Jillian?” AJ whispered as he held her in his arms.

She fought sleep, wanting to stay with him. The fragility of their time together kept her frozen in place. “Hmm?” She kissed his arm wrapped around her, holding her naked body against his.

“I need you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“Don’t let me hurt you, physically or emotionally, and don’t…” he drew in a long breath “…don’t let me suffer. Let me die with some sort of dignity.”

“AJ—” She choked on her words, damning the nagging tears.

“Promise me.”

“How will I know?” she whispered.

“You’ll just … know.” He kissed the back of her head. “I trust you.”

She closed her eyes, begging the tears to hold off as she held her breath and nodded once. Her body shook from the pounding in her chest, an earthquake of pain. Pain that was just too much.

A while later she felt his body relax around hers, so she slipped out of bed, dressed, and went home.

Jackson sat perched on a chair in front of his computer. He looked up.

“Downstairs,” she whispered.

He stared at her for a moment. Then he nodded.

After changing her clothes, she wrapped her hands and waited for Jackson. He gave her a sad smile as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He started to wrap his hands.

“I’ll fight back, I promise, but I need you to make me feel a different type of pain.”

They both slipped in their mouth guards.

He nodded. Before she could meet his eyes, he swung his leg around, knocking her to the floor. Tears flooded her eyes, but not from being knocked down.

“Get up,” he growled, his voice devoid of sympathy. Jackson knew what she needed, sometimes more than she did.

“Get the fuck up!”

She crawled to her feet, tears streaming down her face. He hit her again before she had a chance to react. Blood pooled along her lip.

“You feel that?” he asked. His voice grew louder with each word.

“Yes,” she gritted, brushing away her tears with her arms as her tongue licked the blood.

“Then show me.”

Her ragged breaths came quicker as anger seized her body and she attacked her brother, holding back nothing. She fought her past, beating the shit out of everything that took Luke away from her. She fought the asshole who had been messaging her, making her feel scared and weak, and then she fought the fucking cancer. She fought it through tears and blood. Jillian fought until she collapsed in Jackson’s arms. The tears ran dry and the pain numbed. One feeling remained: acceptance.

Chapter Six

Once again, Jackson witnessed his sister hitting rock bottom and crawling through her blood, sweat, and tears to surface again. After AJ saw the marks on her face the following day, he paid Jackson a visit—with his fist. Jillian broke up the fight before blood stained the carpet. With a scowl and a nod, both men declared a truce, although a silent one, and contingent on the other keeping his hands off her. A promise neither could really guarantee, because they were all a bit unpredictable.

Jillian jumped all in and went to AJ’s appointments, including getting second and third opinions. Jackson¸ content that his sister stood on her own feet again, counted down the days until Tuesday—the best day of the week.

“Hey.” Ryn smiled as he let her inside.

“AJ home today?” he asked to break the ice before suggesting sex or marriage.

“Yes. I was pretty shocked to hear that he retired from the air force. Honestly, I’ve worked for him for over five years, but I’ve rarely seen or talked to him. Yet he seemed … I don’t know, maybe a little depressed today.”

“Jillian will cheer him up after she gets home.”

“Oh … are they …”

“Yes, he’s screwing my sister. No, I don’t like it.”

Ryn looked away with a hint of discomfort in her expression. She took her bucket of supplies to the bathroom. “Is it because of the age difference?”

Jackson followed her. “No. It’s because she’s my sister and therefore no guy will ever be deserving of her.”

“She’s lucky. I’d love to have someone feel that protective of me.”

“Could you tell her that?”

Ryn laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure she doesn’t always think of it as a blessing. So … how old is she?”

“Thirty.”

“And you’re older?” Ryn tried to sound indifferent, but he saw through it.

Jackson smiled as she fished for his age. The age thing mattered to her.

“Yes. I’m older.”

Her smile grew with a look of relief.

“By seven minutes.”

That look of relief quickly faded. “Really, twins?”

“Yes. So how old are you?”

She tapped the toilet brush on the edge and returned it to the bucket. “That’s kind of a bold question. You know it’s not polite to ask a woman her age.”

“You asked Jillian’s.”

“Let me rephrase, it’s not polite for a man to ask a woman her age.”

“Sounds like a double standard.” He chuckled. “Besides, I’m a bold guy, so it’s fitting that I ask bold questions.”

Ryn cleaned the mirror, occasionally meeting his eyes through the reflection. “How old do you think I am?”

“I’m bold, not stupid, so I’m not answering that.”

“I’m in my thirties as well.” She rolled her lips between her teeth to contain her smile.

He felt bad for playing her, but he wanted her to think of him as a normal guy. Telling her that he’d already done a full background check on her would not get him past his celibacy phase. Women were sensitive about the whole invasion-of-privacy thing.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asked.

“Honesty’s good.”

“I told Jillian I’m interested in you.”

She gulped—loudly. Then her hands doubled their pace, working at record speed. Her eyes remained focused on her task. He enjoyed seeing her uncomfortable. It meant she was attracted to him.

“She wasn’t too pleased because she doesn’t want you to quit cleaning our house or AJ’s.”

Another gulp. She had an excess of saliva.

He continued since she didn’t have anything to add yet. “So she said I should make it clear that we’re going to just have sex or else I need to marry you.”

“Oh my God! What?” She turned, holding the cleaning rag against her chest as if she were standing there topless.

A grin dominated his whole face and nothing had ever felt so good, which was weird because his dick remained in his pants. He worked her for a reaction the same way he had done for years with Jillian.

“I agree. Marriage might be too soon. I wouldn’t dream of proposing without asking for your father’s blessing.”

“I’m almost forty!” she spewed out the words like a last-minute confession with a gun pointed to her head. Even her face scrunched into a frightened grimace.

“Great, so you have a birthday coming up. We should celebrate.”

“I have a daughter. She’s twenty-one.” Another rushed confession.

“I’d love to meet her.”

Ryn narrowed her eyes. “As in … you want me to fix the two of you up?”

Jackson chuckled. “I’m keeping you from working. We should have drinks later and discuss what I want in further detail.”

“I have to take Gunner for a walk…” she hugged the cleaning rag to her chest even tighter “…later.”

“Your ferret?”

The hardened statue in front of him relaxed a little. He enjoyed the smile that reacquainted itself with her lips. “No.” She laughed. “He’s my dog.”

“Ohhh … gotcha. So leave me your address and I’ll come walk with you.” He knew her address, but once again, it didn’t seem like a good idea to tell her that.

“You’re relentless,”

“You have no idea.” He made a point of letting his gaze drag slowly up her body until he could see a small sheen of perspiration on her brow. Mission accomplished.

*

Leaving an ass print on the beach carried less intimidation when Jackson Knight seemed unattainable—celibate. Sex or marriage. Who says that? Definitely not a thirty-year-old guy with the most unique eyes Ryn had ever seen, a body sculpted for the front cover of a fitness magazine, and tattoos that were clearly on display for the sole purpose of her enjoyment. And a guy like that definitely did not say that to a nearly forty-year-old woman losing her battle with gravity.

Perhaps she’d hallucinated the whole conversation. It was hard to say for sure. There had been heart palpitations, sweating, and foggy-brained confusion. Had she also imagined the inappropriate way he looked at her? Ryn hoped not. She rather liked how he looked at her. He made her feel a hundred times sexier than she imagined possible.

Clothes were strewn all over her room. It was a walk, not dinner with the president. She didn’t need to try on ten different outfits, but she did anyway. After settling on the most boring choice ever—gray yoga capris and a white tank top—she waited on her porch swing with Gunner at her feet.

“You’re smiling at no one in particular.”

She turned. “Hey, Drew.”

“Good day?”

She snorted out a laugh when a wood-paneled PT Cruiser pulled into her driveway, the perfect visual to temper her attraction to Jackson. Then he got out and the PT Cruiser might as well have been a Ferrari. Jackson exuded sexiness. He made ugly beautiful. Could he make her feel half as desirable as he looked?

Drew chuckled. “He’s young.”

“Yup.” Ryn couldn’t take her eyes off Jackson as he navigated up her driveway like a catwalk, wearing faded ripped jeans and a fitted black tank top that showed more of his tattoos than she had ever seen.

“Hi.” Jackson first acknowledged Drew.

“Hey there. Well, you two have fun at the beach.” Drew’s steps faded into the distance.

Warmth surged along her skin, overheating her whole body. Someone needed to throw some ice water on her.

“The beach?” Jackson questioned.

“Inside joke.” Her eyes took their first blink since he’d pulled into her driveway.

“Hot car.” She grinned.

Sex in the flesh shoved his hands deep into his pockets, flexing the muscles along his arms, but her eyes latched onto the wide black waist band of his underwear exposed in the front from his hands pushing down.

“Thank you.”

Ryn shook her head with an embarrassingly huge smile plastered to her face. “Are you conducting some sort of experiment?”

“On?”

“What makes a man sexy.” She snapped her finger and pointed to the ground beside her. Gunner took his position on command. “Because before you pulled up I would have said no man could look sexy driving a PT Cruiser. I stand corrected.”

Jackson cocked his head to the side, watching Gunner. “I’m not part of any experiment.” He continued looking at Gunner as if he were talking to him. “But I do know the answer to that question.”

“I have no doubt that you do. I’m sure you see it in the mirror every day. Walk.” She started toward the sidewalk with Gunner right at her side.

“Nope. But don’t stress over it. I’ll tell you someday. By the way … I think I’m in love with your dog.”

“You’ve only just met.”

“Well he’s beautiful and well behaved. No leash?”

“He doesn’t need one.”

“What if a rabbit or squirrel runs out in front of him?”

“He doesn’t do anything without my command.”

“I once knew a Marley reincarnation.”

“Yours?” Ryn looked up at Jackson, squinting against the setting sun.

“No. This doctor I knew got it for his girlfriend. He tried to get her to take it to obedience school, but I think they dropped out after the first day. The mutt was a nightmare.”

“Gunner was trained to be a guard dog. I don’t think I’d be able to sleep at night if I didn’t have him.”

“Because you’re single?”

“Because I’m divorced.” Ryn kept her eyes focused ahead. “I left an abusive relationship. He didn’t want to accept it even after I filed the restraining order. I don’t like guns, but I needed a way to feel safe.”

“Gun-ner.” Jackson smirked. “Nice.”

“So … I noticed you have some crash-type pads and different equipment in your basement. Are you a boxer?”

“I’m not a boxer, but I can box. Jillian and I like to spar for a good workout.”

“Do you know any self-defense moves?”

His lips twisted to the side. “A few.”

“Would you be willing to teach me sometime?”

Jackson didn’t say anything.

“It’s just that Gunner’s not always with me and I wonder what would happen if the mace on my keychain didn’t work or if I dropped it and was left defenseless. I know I sound paranoid, it’s just—”

“I’ll teach you.”

“You will?”

He nodded.

“I’ll even pay you or we could barter for the house cleaning.”

His lips curled into the most mischievous grin. “Bartering … yes, but not for the house cleaning.”

“Oh …” A cold chill inched up her spine. “Do I want to know what you have in mind?”

He looked over at her. “I don’t know. Do you?”

She tried to lighten the moment, thick with suggestion. “If you’re thinking of trying to take Gunner or Maddie, then the answer is no way.”

“Maddie?”

“My daughter.”

“I think you already offered me your daughter.”

“What? I did not.”

“You offered to fix us up.”

“I-I-no … I asked if that’s what you were implying.”

“And if I would have said yes, you were going to give me her phone number with your blessing.”

“I most certainly was not.”

“Why?”

It was a good question.

“That’s what I thought.” His smug smile wasn’t sexy. Really it was, but she didn’t want it to be.

“For your information, my daughter is too young for you.”

Jackson chuckled. “I’m closer to her age than your age.”

“So?”

“So, here we are … on our first date. Don’t you think I’m too young for you?”

Yes. Of course she did.

“This isn’t a date. It’s a dog walk.”

“It’s a date.”

Ryn shook her head. “It’s not.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re too young for me. There I said it. Happy now?”

Men like Jackson were put on Earth for one purpose: to rob every ounce of confidence from women like Ryn. They ate it up and saved it for themselves, as if they could possibly need any more. Then they flaunted it to get the attention of the lucky recipients who were Maddie’s age. The twenty-somethings thrived on it.

“I know all my ABCs. I’m potty trained. I chew with my mouth closed, and I require limited supervision.”

Ryn didn’t want to laugh, but she did anyway. “Shut up, now you’re just being stupid.”

“Oh and I can count to one hundred—forward, backward, and even with my eyes shut.”

She sighed. “Have you ever been married?”

“No.”

“Kids?”

“No.”

“So our total time spent together so far in the past week has been five hours, and we might not have anything in common, which would only be compounded by our age difference, and you expect me to believe you are seriously interested in me?”

“Yes.”

“Fine,” she huffed, hiding her grin. “I’ll marry you.”

Jackson laughed. It made her want more.

More laughter.

More resplendent smiles.

He held her gaze, lacing his fingers with hers then gently squeezing her hand. That made her want more too.

More of his touch.

More of the happiness that swelled in her heart.

His touch felt like a spell. For a moment she forgot about her age, her physical imperfections, and the fear that held her hostage to a past she could never escape.

They finished their walk in silence. It wasn’t awkward, it was perfect. The most indelible moments are spent in quietude with a worthy companion. Gunner had been that worthy companion for years.

When they reached her front porch, it felt like waking from a dream. Their age difference returned to her thoughts again as all the insecurities she tried to overcome came rushing back. She attempted to release his hand, but he tightened his grip and pulled her to him. He smelled good, really good. Her eyes closed on their own accord as she took a slow inhale, hoping he didn’t notice her trying to smell him.

“Candles,” he said.

Ryn opened her eyes.

“I smell like sex candles.”

She laughed a little. “Sex candles?” Whatever they were, she needed to buy some.

“Yes. Jillian sells them and until just recently she’d been using Woody to transport them.”

Sex candles and then Woody. Maybe she was too old. Clearly they didn’t speak the same language.

“Well, sex candles smell good on you.”

He smiled. It was a hungry smile with his tongue wetting his lips.

“You know what else would smell good on me?” he whispered, ducking his head a breath away from her lips.

The enormity of his dominating presence wrecked her ability to conjure coherent thoughts and formulate words to go with them.

“Um … what?” She couldn’t even remember his question. Why were his lips just lingering over hers? It was torturous.

“You.” He touched her lips, just barely.

She felt the very tip of his warm tongue touch her top lip.

“Good night, Ryn.” He strode with extra confidence to his car because he stole hers. He stole everything and left her speechless, standing on the porch with her lips slightly parted, making soft panting noises. Pathetic.

“Night,” she whispered long after he was gone.