Just Friends To . . . Just Married. Renee Roszel

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СКАЧАТЬ elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “Don’t let that mobster accountant thing go to your head.”

      He turned away, headed toward the door. “You can’t un-ring a bell, sweetheart.” His voice mimicked the distinctive delivery of an old-time movie tough guy.

      “Heaven help me,” she said, laughing. “I’ve created a monster.”

      “No, a mobster’s accountant,” he corrected in the same tough-guy voice.

      After he disappeared from view, she took up the cheese package and began to open it, grinning to herself. Jax could be so cute. Strange. She had a perfectly awful day, accented by bouts of crying and feeling sorry for herself. Then Jax shows up, and—bam!—sunshine streams in to warm her cold, old soul.

      After dinner, Kim insisted they leave the dishes for her to do later. She took Jax by the hand, leading him into the living room to drink their coffee. When they reached the sofa she gently pushed him down, then took a seat, kicked off her sneakers and curled up on the far side. “Can we have a fire?” she asked, feeling better than she had all day. “I love the smell.”

      “Sure.” He grabbed a remote off the end table and pressed a button. Instantly fire flared in the hearth.

      “Oh—my—heavens!” She giggled, set her coffee on the end table and leaned over to run a hand along his biceps. “What a pioneer type you are. That must have been quite a strain.”

      He lay the remote aside. “The wood fairy didn’t carry in that wood, you know.”

      She smiled. “I’m kidding. Your place is awesome. Pushbutton fires, yet.” She lounged back, picked up her coffee, but continued to look at him. He’d changed into jeans and a soft, golden sweater that accented his torso nicely. Looking at Jax made her feel better, and she sighed. Then she had an amusing thought. “So your secret taco ingredient is taco seasoning, huh?”

      He peered her way. “Yep.”

      She laughed. “I hate to tell you, but your secret’s out.”

      He frowned, faking shock. “No.”

      She nodded, giving him a pitying look. “‘It’s true.”

      “Damn. There goes my shot at a show on the cooking channel.”

      She laughed, scanned his wayward bad boy lock of hair, his well toned chest, flat belly, solid thighs…” You work out, don’t you?” she said, surprised to hear the remark aloud.

      He sat his coffee on the sleek, espresso-brown coffee table. “I told you that last night.”

      How embarrassing. Not only because she had asked a second time, but because neither time had she meant to say anything out loud. She crossed her arms before her, pretending to be casual and conversational. “Oh? Must have slipped my mind,” she lied. “Well, it shows.” She winced inwardly. Had she lost the ability to think something without blurting it out?

      His brow crinkled, as though he wasn’t sure how to take the remark. “Thanks.”

      “Feel free to smile, Jax. I won’t tell.”

      That remark provoked a bona fide glower.

      She sat up, concerned, and scooted over to him. “What’s the matter? Have I done something to upset you?” She took his hand. “I know I’m a terrible disruption, and I was only thinking of myself when I burst in on you. All through dinner all I did was babble about Perry and my job. It’s been me, me, me, and you’ve been so good, listening and…” The sentence died as she had a distressing thought. “Heavens—it’s a woman, isn’t it?”

      “What?” She’d clearly caught him off guard with that question. He stared, looking cautious.

      “You have a girlfriend, and you think you have to neglect her while you baby me.” She grasped his hand with both of hers. “That’s it, isn’t it? Well, you don’t have to. I’d love to meet her,” she said. “I don’t want to screw up your social life. But that’s exactly what I’m doing. You want to be with her and you have to babysit me.” She felt terrible guilt. “I’m such a selfish—”

      “No,” he interrupted gruffly. “You’re not a selfish anything. And there’s no other woman I’d rather…” He paused, cleared his throat. “I have no one serious in my life at the moment, so don’t beat yourself up for no reason. You know me well enough to know if I didn’t want you around I’d…” He paused, looked as though he had a troubling thought.

      “You’d tell me?” she prompted.

      He glanced at his coffee cup, picked it up and took a gulp, then set it down heavily. “Yeah—right.” After a second, he returned his attention to her face.

      She showed her doubt by narrowing her eyes. “I don’t know that I do know that, Jax. I can’t remember you ever telling me to get lost as a kid. And I must have been an awful annoyance at times. A twelve-year-old kid tagging after a fifteen-year-old teenager.” She cuddled up to him, hugging his arm with both of hers. “You never, ever told me to get lost. How could I know you’d tell me to now?”

      “I never told you to get lost?”

      She smiled. “Never. I would remember because I’d have been crushed.”

      He shifted his gaze to the fire. “Apparently I have a high tolerance for awful annoyances.”

      “So you’re okay with me being here?”

      He watched the fire without speaking.

      “Jax?” she coaxed. “Did you hear me? Are you okay with me being here?”

      “Sure,” he said quietly. He glanced at her and nodded, his smile brief but as welcome as the fire’s warmth. “Of course.”

      “I’m glad.” She lay her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. “Doesn’t the fire smell nice?”

      He didn’t respond. At least Kim wasn’t aware of any response. She was exhausted from the emotionally draining day. Stress had taken a toll, sapped her, and Jax’s nearness felt so comforting. When sleep beckoned, she floated toward it, entirely relaxed for the first time in…too tired…to think…

      Jax sat motionless, almost not breathing. Kim’s scent coiled around him like a siren with no regard for the mortal soul damned to eternal loneliness by her flagrant yet innocent cruelty. Her breasts, pressed against his arm, burned seductively. His gut clenched with hot desire.

      Steeling himself, he glared unseeing into the fire, its mellow, woody smell a poor second to the sweet essence of the woman cuddled there, unknowingly laying waste to his heart. After a mercifully short time, he could tell she slept by the low, even rhythm of her breathing.

      To keep from waking her, he carefully disengaged himself from her grasp and lowered her head to a pillow. He covered her with a cashmere throw and turned off the table lamp. For a moment he couldn’t move, so captivated by the sight of flickering firelight setting her hair aglow. A glossy tendril fell across her cheek. With no capacity or desire to resist, he smoothed it away from her face, then kissed the freckled cheek where the curl had rested.

      She СКАЧАТЬ