Page 60

Jackson

New Year’s Eve traffic is a mood killer.

Reaching over, I take hold of Marlow’s hand and kiss it.

Her body has never been off-limits for the gesture.

Only the intimacy of her mouth. I don’t have issues with boundaries, but now that the flood gates have opened, damn , I want to kiss her again.

Since we have some time to kill, we might as well dive right in. “We kissed back there.”

A flirtatious grin appears. “We did, and now I’m wondering why we weren’t doing it all along.”

“You’re reading my mind.”

Ironic. I’ve always found her quite difficult to read. She’s the queen of hearts with a million walls surrounding her like a fortress. Untouchable in so many ways, except when we’re alone . . . or maybe it’s only when she’s lonely.

She licks her lips, and I can’t stop staring at them.

Remembering the delicate taste of champagne as it lingered, a hint of something sweet when our tongues touched for the first time, I drag my tongue over my lower lip in hopes of tasting her again.

Fuck, I’m getting hard from the tease and start to wonder if kissing is even on the table or if New Year’s Eve is just a special occasion. “We’ve kissed before.”

“Not like that.”

“No, not like that.” Another car honks its horn at us. Our driver flips him off while grumbling up front about staying in his own lane.

I look around, making sure the situation won’t escalate, and then sit back when I see the other driver turn to take a different route.

“We have bad timing,” Marlow says, picking up where we left off.

Finding her eyes in the cab's darkness, I ask, “You and me?”

“No, the traffic. We should have left earlier to avoid it.”

I nod, catching on. “Right. Is there ever a good time?”

“For us?” I swear I detect a note of hope in her tone.

As much as I like hearing that, I chuckle because we both seem to be a little confused tonight. Is that what kissing does? It’s rattled me in a good way. Wonder how she feels about it? “There’s never smooth sailing in Manhattan traffic.”

She looks out the window, making it hard to read anything about her, so I hold tighter to the hope I heard and her hand. I rest our bond on my leg, which brings her attention back to me. She says, “Don’t worry, Jackson. We’ll get there eventually.”

Her words have new meaning under the earlier intimacy of kissing. Not sure what to say under the curious gaze she’s laid on me, except, “Happy New Year.”

Her grasp tightens, and her head tilts. “Happy New Year.” She slides across the back seat until she’s close, close like Cammie and Cade get, and Rad and Tealey.

For a small moment in time, it feels like we’re that couple. Or could be.

When I release her hand and lift my arm, she snuggles against me, and says, “New Year’s Eve should only be allowed on weekends.” She laughs to herself. Sitting up suddenly, she angles toward me. “I sound so old. When did we get old?”

“Somewhere between graduating and being able to stay out all night partying to bumping up against thirty and being tired before one o’clock on New Year’s Eve, I suppose.”

“Changes in jobs.” She rests back again, her head on my shoulder.

“Living on our own.”

She nods. “So true.” Adjusting her head, she’s closer, if that’s possible. She looks up at me. “Do you ever get lonely?”

I realize that’s what tonight was about—my wandering thoughts, questioning what I should be doing with my life relationship-wise, and feeling like a fifth wheel with my best friends for the first time.

It’s a lot to digest. I tighten my arm around her and admit the truth.

“Sometimes, I guess. I thought you liked living in that big apartment? Isn’t that why you’re trying to stay there? ”

Discomfort slumps her shoulders momentarily, and a shaky breath is released. “I’m trying to stay because I have nowhere to go.”

My heart hurts to see this usually strong woman fighting an embarrassment she should never bear.

I want to protect her, to help her, to do something to make this better.

Wrapping my arm around her, I hold her close and kiss her head.

“Sure, you do. Whatever happens, you have me. You don’t have to fight this alone. We’re all here for you.”

She leans up enough to look at me with a soft smile playing on her lips. Her eyes are wide with the same hope tingeing her tone when she says, “I’ve been sheltered and taken care of for my whole life. Where did that get me?”

She’s always been daddy’s little princess.

He even called her as much when he was paying for her every whim, but to hear her say it is new.

She still deserves some credit where it’s due.

I tuck some loose strands of hair behind her ear.

“You’re following your dream. You work in a gallery, just like you always talked about, and you work hard. ”

“I work in a gallery but can’t afford my bills.” She looks down as she rests the palm of her hand on her leg. “My dreams won’t pay for my lifestyle, and I willingly let that happen.”

I’ve never seen this side of her, her vulnerability palpable in the back of this cab. I didn’t know it was this bad. She’s not one to show weakness, so I’m not sure what to think other than Marlow deserves better than how her family has left her. “Your dad fucked up.”

“Yes, he did. He lied to me and everyone else, including the bank. But I picked an apartment that most people in the city can’t afford, choosing to feed an ego instead of dealing with reality.

I had no idea he was headed for bankruptcy.

That he lied to me when he was responsible for paying my bills was wrong on every level.

But at the end of the day, I got myself into this mess by thinking my dad would always be there for me.

” She sits back. “It doesn’t matter how I got here.

I’m never going to let something like this happen to me again. Never.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Enjoy New Year’s Eve with you.” She pushes up on her hand and kisses under my jaw, my body coming back to life.

The familiar surroundings have me ready to pay so I can get her upstairs.

Hanging out in cabs for longer than necessary isn’t what I call entertainment, not when I’m with a beautiful woman.

Especially when I’m with Marlow. I lift her chin so her eyes stay fixed on me. “You’re never alone. Got that?”

A grin grows, but she restrains it before it gives too much away. “Got it,” she says like the sly devil himself replied.

The cab pulls to the curb, giving me a reprieve from this heavy conversation. We head inside like we’ve done many times. It’s not been hundreds, but it’s been enough for the doorman to remember her. How could he not? She’s unforgettable. He tips his hat. “Evening, Ms. Marché. Mr. St. James.”

“Happy New Year, Paul,” Marlow and I say in unison. The sound of her heels against the marble floors trails along with us. I reach my hand out, and she takes hold, clasping mine without a glance ever exchanged. We work on instinct and the gravitational pull that keeps bringing us together.

It’s a pull I don’t want to fight anymore.

I wonder how she feels?

We ride the elevator in silence, but a tension builds while our eyes are fixed on each other’s in the reflection of the mirrored door. She drags the tips of her fingers across her collarbone and then bites her lip. Her chest rises and falls with each breath.

Fuck.

She’s so fucking gorgeous I’m tempted to take her right here. Too bad our every move is being filmed in this elevator. I appreciate the security all other times.

Gripping the railing behind me with my other hand to keep myself from pulling her in for another kiss to that lip she’s currently biting, I will the elevator to move faster.

It’s the first time her eyes leave mine. She whispers, “I’ve been thinking,” and looks at her shoes.

“What have you been thinking?” It’s then that I notice she’s holding the railing behind her like I am. I loosen my grip, stretching my fingers.

Just when her gaze rises, the elevator stops, and the door slides open.

I glance at her at the same moment as she looks at me. She leaves me trying to read her mind when all I want to do is kiss her again. I hold my hand out, and as soon as she takes it, we bolt down the hall together as if we’ll find any answer we need down here.

I have my keys out and am unlocking my door as soon as we reach it.

We both take a breath, but doors and keys, hallways, or even privacy don’t matter at this point. The buildup consumes us quicker than a breath can be exhaled. She’s against me, her lips on mine, causing my back to hit the wood door with a thud.

I take her in my arms and lift her, pivoting inside the apartment. With our lips locked, this kiss feels better and more intense when there’s a different intention in mind. Sure, I want to fuck her, but I also can’t wait to take her out on a date.

Kicking the door closed, I set her down and am quick to lock the bolt. But then I stop. Through heavy breaths, I cup her face, and ask, “I want to know what you’re thinking. I always want to know what’s on your mind, Marlow.”

Her breathing is jagged, and her lashes flutter as she looks up at me. “You do?”

“I do.”

“I was thinking,” she starts but then pauses.

Staring into my eyes, she’s consumed by emotion, the storm turning her brighter blues cloudy and gray.

“I have so much on my mind, but I don’t want to think about anything else.

” Her arms tighten around my neck, and she places a kiss on the corner of my mouth.

“Just kiss me and make it all go away. Okay?”

She always wears a brave face, but I’m starting to wonder if that’s just for show. Cupping her cheek and then running my fingers into her hair, I whisper, “You can always talk to me. You know that, right?”

“We’ve never been those kinds of friends, Jackson. Are we friends at all? Or just friends by association?”

“Sometimes,” I admit, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be more with you.

” I can’t say we were friends in college or even after graduation.

Still, something over the past year changed—our patience with each other, or even Rad and Tealey eventually getting together—and suddenly, we were the only ones not dating.

A lot of whiskey, a star-filled sky, and the sound of the waves became foreplay.

We made a deal. We’ll tell no one, no getting our emotions involved, and only have sex until we meet someone else more appealing.

No one else more appealing came along, so we became a regular thing. So I’m not sure what we are anymore, but my guess is that we’re caught in the middle of the friends we are now, the acquaintances we were at best in the past, and a committed relationship. Purgatory.

Gliding my other hand along her ribs and tilting my head down, I kiss one corner of her mouth and then the other. “We’re friends. More than.”

“More than. I like that.” She smiles. “I’m here, so what are you going to do with me?”

“What do you want me to do with you?”

Her gaze travels down my hallway. “Maybe we figure it out in the bedroom.” I scoop her into my arms, eliciting giggles straight from her belly. It’s a beautiful fucking sound.

She tosses her handbag on the table by the door when we pass by, but then she returns to kiss the underside of my jaw. “You never shave for me,” she says as we head for my bedroom.

“I can’t help that I’m so manly and can grow a beard by lunch.” I chuckle. Every other woman I date wants me to look like a lumberjack. Not Marlow. She’s always been about the clean-shaven, white-collar look. And most days I fit that, but when I get to choose, I’m more laid-back.

Reaching the side of the bed, I quirk a brow at her. “I can call you a car if it bothers you that much.”

Marlow’s eyes widen. “I’m not bothered.” The tension that appeared in her shoulders disappears just as quickly. “Not bothered at all.”

I smirk and then set her down on the mattress.

Although we’ll be a frenzy of hands and other body parts in a minute, I take a moment to admire the woman on my bed.

She lifts to toe off her shoes, each jeweled shoe dropping to the floor like she has no care for them at all.

I know she does. Marlow loves her shoes.

But it seems she might like something else even more.

Me.

At least for the night.