Page 78

Jackson

“I understand, Mr. Morgenstern, but the market is not open on Saturday.” I pace to the other end of the court and turn back. Even though we’re outside, I’m heated from the basketball game.

I didn’t get to sleep in as long as I would have liked, but the only time we could score at the courts is midmorning, so we booked it.

Leaving Marlow in bed naked was harder. Literally.

But she shooed me out the door and pulled her silky eye mask back down over her eyes.

She was sleeping soundly by the time I left.

I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to stay in bed so badly before. Until I return home to her, I need to deal with Morgenstern and then show the boys how real men play the game.

Rad and Cade are shooting free throws and missing every damn shot.

They’re an embarrassment. I need to end this call and show them how it’s done, but Morgenstern is going off about a drop in value and losing his shirt in stocks.

I say, “I’m not a broker anymore. Even if the stock market was open, I didn’t renew my license. ”

He says, “But you’re still registered. That must mean something.”

“The registration with the SEC is not current. There’s nothing I can do for you other than recommend you call your broker and have him ready to sell on Monday.”

“Is that what you think I should do? Sell? I thought you’d want me to hold on to the stocks like bonds and let them mature.”

“Mr. Morgenstern, I’m not making any recommendations. It’s not a stock I’ve been following to be in a position to give an opinion one way or the other. As I said, you need to contact your broker?—”

“He’s in Jamaica celebrating his honeymoon.”

Fuck. He trusted me when I had no clients as a new wealth advisor and was trying to build my portfolio.

I owe him for taking a chance on me. “Here’s what I can do.

Since you’re still a client with Christiansen Wealth Management, let me make some calls.

I’ll find out who’s covering for your broker.

If they’re good, I’ll have them call you.

If I don’t think they’re ready to handle your transactions, I’ll bring Andrew, the CEO, on to help you. Will that work?”

“If you trust them, it works for me. Thanks, Jackson.”

Cutting across the basketball court, I reply, “No problem. Have a good weekend.”

As soon as I pull my phone from my ear, Rad asks, “You up for another game?”

We understand that business tops time on the court, so we don’t generally give each other too hard of a time when we have to take a call. It’s part of the job description when we signed up, and we all get fucked out of a game here and there. “One more game?”

“Me against the two of you?”

Bent over trying to catch his breath, Cade chuckles. “Cocky as ever, dude.” He waves us off. “I’m sitting this one out. You and Rad go ahead.”

Rad laughs as he throws the ball to me. “He can’t hang like he used to.”

I turn and shoot, banking the ball. Rad runs to retrieve it. Taking it, he does a layup. I’m thinking we’re not going to play to score but fuck around, which is probably best. I’m still thinking about the secret Marlow shared with me.

After Rad throws the ball to me again, I dribble to the bench courtside. Overheated and red in the face, Cade wipes the sweat from his forehead but looks up. “What are you and Cammie doing tonight?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“What about going out to dinner instead of brunch tomorrow?”

“It’s been a while since we’ve gone out on a Saturday night. I know she’d like that. I’ll talk to her when I get home.” Resting back against the wood-planked wall with a smirk in place, he nods. “So you and Marlow, huh?”

It’s my turn to shrug. “She needed a place to stay.”

“It was nice of you to offer your bed.”

I throw the ball at him. “Funny guy.”

“What can I say? I’m funny.” When he tosses the ball in the air between us, I catch it.

“Are we playing?” Rad asks, getting annoyed from the court.

Cade stands. “Maybe one more game.”

He tries to swat the ball out of my hands, but I make a fast break and then sidestep around Rad to dunk it. “Piece of cake.”

Rad grabs the ball, throws it to Cade, and says, “Now try when I’m not on my phone.”

Fucking hell.

I stand when Marlow walks into the living room as if she didn’t just knock the breath right out of me. Long legs with black sky-high heels, the blue dress that matches her eyes hits mid-thigh and wraps over one shoulder. Holding her bag in one hand, she spins. “How do I look?”

“I thought you wanted to go out?” I tease, hoping to the high heavens that this woman will change her mind and want to stay in . . . in bed, that is.

Her brows pull together in concern. “We are.” And then her expression loosens into a carefree smile. Beautiful. “Ah.” She laughs as she comes closer. Lifting to her toes, she kisses me.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to staying home with you looking that good.”

“Only good, St. James?” She straightens my jacket, picking a piece of lint from the lapel.

I grab her, pulling her against me so she can feel just how good I think she looks.

Squeezing the rounds of that sweet ass, I take in her face.

She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and here she’s looking at me like I’m something special.

What kind of crazy world do we live in? Her breathing shortens, and she says, “My lipstick is an all-day wear and stays on.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means I want to put it to the test. Kiss me, Jackson.”

I do as the lady requests. I kiss her and slide a hand into her hair.

I tilt her head back so we can deepen it until our tongues are tangling, and our bodies are grinding against each other.

“We can’t,” she says, pulling back and lowering her heels to the floor again.

“I don’t want to miss this. We rarely go out on Saturdays as a group anymore. I’m sorry, do you mind?”

“No. I mean, yes.” I crack a smile. “I want to make love to you, but going out will be fun, too.”

Her eyes stare into mine as if she’s searching for a lie that she’ll never find. I said what I said about making love to her, and I meant it. She clutches her bag tight in her hands and then shoots me a mischievous grin before walking toward the door and slipping on her coat.

“Hey, Marlow?” Stopping to look back over her shoulder, she finds my eyes across the room. “You look beautiful.”

A sweet smile finds its rightful place, and she says, “Thanks.” Nodding toward the door, she holds out her hand. “You ready?”

“As ready as ever.”

I lock up, and we start down the short hall. I’ve already learned that we don’t take the stairs if she’s in heels, which is most of the time. I punch the button. Standing in silence isn’t awkward. We’ve found comfort in just being in each other’s presence.

It’s nice to be with someone you don’t have to entertain all the time like most women I date.

The elevator door slides open, and the eyes of the high school girl from the tenth floor widen when she sees me. Like always. A smile starts to embed in her expression until her gaze shifts to my left, and then annoyance takes over her face, and she moves to the corner of the elevator.

“Hello,” Marlow says, stepping on.

The girl stares at her shoes and replies, “Evening.”

With our fingers still intertwined, Marlow doesn’t even flinch from the exchange.

I say, “Good evening,” to her as the polite thing to do, but her eyes meet mine briefly until I’m situated next to Marlow. The door closes, and now it’s awkward. We haven’t descended even two floors when Marlow moves closer, pressing our arms together.

Grinning, I try to restrain myself from laughing out loud. I can’t say I normally care for acts of jealousy, but I’m living for this one. I bring my fist to my mouth to hide how I’m failing miserably.

An elbow taps into mine, and Marlow squeezes my hand. Thank fuck we’ve reached the lobby. I step aside with my hand on the edge of the door to let the ladies exit first.

The neighbor hurries out the front door, but Marlow stands not five feet away with her arm stretched toward me.

I could really get used to this with her.

I take her hand again, and we walk out together.

It’s cold out, and she rearranges, wrapping her arm around mine.

Just before we hop in a cab at the curb, she says, “I can’t take you anywhere, St. James. ”

“It’s not too late to turn back.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Come on, lady-killer. Let’s go meet our friends before I get swayed.”

We slip inside the cab, and I tell the driver the address. She nods but doesn’t seem too interested in us. “And what would said swaying look like for it to work?” I ask Marlow.

“Hey, speaking of Billy Joel.”

The whiplash cricks my neck. “I wasn’t aware we were talking about Billy Joel.”

“I saw you had his album in the closet.”

“This has got to be the most indirect loop into a conversation I’ve ever been a part of.” I glance out the window to see where we are in the city before turning back to her. “I inherited the Billy Joel album from my parents when they gave me their collection. You have thoughts on it?”

“No, not really. I don’t know his music, but anytime I hear or see that name, I’m reminded that my mom once dated him. Thank goodness it didn’t work out, or I wouldn’t be here.”

“Thank God for that.”

She rubs my cheek. “Aw, thanks.”

I take her hand and kiss it. “There’s got to be quite the age gap between him and your mom.

” I know who her mom is. Everyone does. She’s not the same role model I had in my life, but I guess not everybody gets so lucky.

Just would’ve been nice if Marlow could’ve had at least one reliable parent in her life.

“Yeah, that stuff doesn’t matter when you’re in love. They weren’t in love, by the way, but I’m told he had a massive . . .” She holds her arms wide. “Bank account.”

“I’m proud to say I don’t know about his assets.”

The joke was lame at best, but it tickles her, making her laugh. I love seeing her in such a good mood. The troubles she’s been dealing with for so long had started camping in her irises and dragging her down. It’s good to see the light shine in them again.

When we arrive, I help her to her feet on the busy sidewalk. We walk to the door, and I fasten the button of my jacket. Placing my hand on her lower back, I step forward, but she stays put, not moving an inch. I look back. “What’s wrong?”

Her chest is rising, and her eyes don’t reflect her smile like they did moments earlier.

I pull her off to the side, out of the way of the entrance to the restaurant.

Dipping my head, I try to block out the rest of the world for her, so she only sees me, hoping I can give her comfort. “What’s going on?”

“Jackson,” she says on the inhale of a deep breath. “I think we should—” She shivers from a cold breeze gusting down the avenue. I rub her arms to warm her up, which has her moving even closer. “I want to be with you, Jackson.”

Smiling, I reply, “You are.”

“No, Jackson, I want to be with you in public like we are at your place.”

My place. The sound of it being only temporary sours on my tongue, but then the rest of what she said sinks in. Tempering my feelings on the matter, I need clarification before jumping to conclusions. “What do you mean?”

“I want to be the woman on your arm, not for show or as a fill-in date like we’d sometimes do. I want us to be real like when it’s just the two of us.”

“You want to date?”

“Yes.”

“Exclusively?”

“Mm-hmm.” She brings my hand to her mouth and kisses my palm like I’ve done to her so many times.

“Our friends are in there waiting for us. They’ll have questions and probably tease us relentlessly, but I won’t pretend I don’t care about you on a deeper level than sex.

Because I do. I care about you, Jackson.

You can be crude and even tell awful jokes sometimes, but you’re thoughtful and kind.

You make me feel safe, and you stepped in when you didn’t have to.

” She holds a finger to my lips. “I know what you’re going to say, and this isn’t about payback.

This is because I want to be your girlfriend.

” She looks away, and then her head lowers.

Tucking two fingers under her chin, I lift it until our eyes meet again. “Do you think I could ever say no to you, Marlow?”

“Sometimes, I need you to. I’m just hoping now’s not one of those times.”

I take her in my arms and kiss her. I kiss her so hard that, for a moment, I forget we’re not at home and ready to move this into the bedroom.

Leaving her breathless, I lean my forehead against hers, close my eyes, and whisper, “You’ll be the death of me.

” I pull back and take her hand proudly and publicly in mine. “Come on. Our friends are waiting.”