Page 22

Jaxon
Did she just call me Lurch?
Fucking Lurch?
It would be funny if not for the fact that I’m so pissed I can barely see straight.
I didn’t expect her to fall into my arms, weeping tears of joy over my safe and triumphant return but I sure as shit didn’t expect her to deny even remembering me.
A polite nod. A smile. A yes, I remember. How have you been, Jaxon?
Yes.
A puzzled smile. A blank stare. An I have no fucking idea who you are because nothing that happened between us was worth remembering?
No.
Oh, hell no.
Leaving her father behind, I come at her fast, eyes locked on her with laser focus. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I get to her, but I’m pretty sure it’ll start with me throwing her over my shoulder and probably end with my needing bail money. She saves us both by calling me Lurch and slamming the car door in my face.
I hear her sister laugh, the sound of it punctuated by the snap of the doors being locked.
She’s as smart as I remember.
Just not as sweet.
When I looked up and saw her standing there, it was like no time had passed between us at all. There she was, so goddamned beautiful I was sure her father would notice it. How seeing her again made me feel.
What it did to me.
The dress is just this side of an indecent exposure citation. Strapless. Tight and low across her tits. So short I’d bet my ride she’d flash me her ass if she bent over. Sky-high stripper heels bring the top of her head to the bridge of my nose.
But that’s where it stops. Where her sister’s bottle blonde hair is curled and tousled in an Ijust got finished having sex kind of way, Claire’s light brown hair is swept away from her face in a simple, loose braid. Barely-there make-up. No jewelry.
The juxtapose between the package and what it’s wrapped in is as confusing as it is arousing. I’m not sure if I want to cover her up with my jacket or drag her inside and fuck her. And then she looked at me like I was a vacuum cleaner salesman who’d overstayed his welcome and I have the sudden urge to turn her over my knee.
More confusion.
More arousal.
Jesus Christ, it’s been a hell of a day.
The only thing that kept me steady was the fact that her father was standing right there. I like him. I’ve always liked him. It’s usually the mother who gets left holding the bag while the father jumps ship. Claire’s mom was long gone before I ever met her but I don’t have to have meet her to know what I think of her. Any parent who bails out on their kid is a piece of shit, in my opinion.
Giving myself some time to cool off, I check the night’s itinerary. Dinner at some swanky downtown Chicago bistro. I’ve taken clients there before, I know the Maître de. A string of clubs, most of which I have relationships with their heads of security—one, in particular, I served with in the Marines. Nothing crazy. Nothing dangerous.
As far as Bachelorettes go, this club crawl would’ve been totally uneventful, if not for the fact that the woman I’ve been in love with since I was eighteen years old is currently sitting in the back of my limo.
And hating my guts.