Wilde Forever (Wilde Women Book 1) Page 12

  She hadn’t anticipated what would come out of Amy’s mouth, though, the second she flew through the swinging doors and nailed Brynn to the spot with a suggestive leer.

  “Jax is certainly here early,” Amy quipped. “I guess you two can’t get enough of each other, hmmmm?”

  “What?” Brynn gasped. “He’s here? Where?”

  Looking as innocent as a newborn Amy chuckled. “Well, his truck’s parked outside and since the shop doesn’t open for another half hour, I figured he was in here with you.”

  Oh. My. GOD. His truck was still in the lot from yesterday. Fuck my life. Well, there was no use in trotting out the lame story she’d been ready with but now what the hell did she do?

  “Boss, I wish to God you could see your face right now.”

  It didn’t help Brynn’s frame of mind that Amy was practically cackling with glee. And what was worse was knowing that Rhiann was going to hear about all this in short order. Amy and her sister had been BFFs of late and though they tried to hide the fact that they chatted nearly every damn day, Brynn was on to them. If she knew her sister at all, the hopeless romantic would be rhapsodizing like Norah fucking Roberts in no time.

  Heaving a deep sigh, Brynn rested her hands on her hips and tried to glare at the woman so clearly yanking her chain.

  “Shut up, Amy.” Really? That was the best she could do? Aaaarrgh.

  “Oh my! Shut up is it? That’s not like you, boss. What’s the matter? Got caught with your hand in the, uh…cookie jar?”

  Brynn sputtered and shifted furiously on feet that wanted to run away and hide.

  “Hey, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Amy giggled. “You should let sexy Jax handle that. And since you look like a deer in the headlights, I actually will shut up now.”

  Grabbing a basket of fresh baked goodie samples for the counter, Amy grinned like this was the funniest situation on earth and headed for the door to the shop. Before she swung on through she looked back at Brynn and winked.

  “By the way. You’re wearing the same clothes you had on yesterday. I know this because you splashed melted butter on your t-shirt which left a telltale stain. Maybe you should consider keeping a change of clothes here in your desk.”

  JAX WAS MAKING HIS WAY along the path to the back door of the bakery kitchen while his mind raced over the situation he was being faced with. Even though they’d fallen asleep early, he’d slept like the fucking dead after their intense sexual romp. He hadn’t been at all surprised to wake up and find Brynn gone, figuring it was her normal rhythm to get up with the birds and immediately get busy with the daily baking.

  He looked like bloody hell, dressed in his clothes from yesterday that had sat in a crumpled pile until he was forced by necessity to put them on. Without a toothbrush or a razor he did what he could, washing up and pressing his hair into some semblance of order. Didn’t mean he looked presentable, but after all, what could he really do about it at this point? All that mattered was finding Brynn and seeing which way her wind was blowing.

  Stopping to compose himself on the small flagstone patio right outside the bakery’s back door, Jax took a deep breath and said a silent prayer. He’d gotten too rough with her, he just knew it, and was beating himself up over possibly fucking up something that had the potential to change both their lives. If she looked at him with fear or condemnation, he didn’t know quite what he’d do.

  His years as a soldier in a deadly warzone had taught him to control his impulses if he didn’t want to get himself or anybody else killed. Going off half-cocked in a testosterone-fueled rage at the destructive and unnecessary madness around him wasn’t going to ever end well, a hard truth well learned. Even after he’d returned stateside and was forced to deal with the emotional fallout from those times, he’d prided himself on the ability to keep his shit together under some pretty goddamn difficult conditions.

  Maybe last night had been an aberration brought on by a long, self-imposed dry spell in the bedroom. That was the only way to explain how swiftly the ravenous beast inside him had gotten out of its cage and gone crazy in a somewhat brutal possession that even hours later was still rocking his world.

  Yeah, right. Who the fuck was he kidding?

  Jerking open the door with an excess of nervous energy, he stepped into what was likely a hornet’s nest and hoped he survived intact.

  Even with her back to the door, Brynn was immediately aware of Jax’s presence. The man sucked the air from her lungs just by being nearby. The thought was wildly disconcerting and made her wonder at her body’s instantaneous response. She was most definitely fighting a disconnect between her rational mind and whatever the hell was going on inside her.

  Holding a pastry bag in her hands, she was swirling rosettes of pink buttercream along the edge a birthday cake with what she knew was a fierce and focused frown on her face. Being in a rhythm, there was no way she could turn around so she spoke quickly.

  “Don’t distract me, okay? If I mess up now I’ll have to start over from scratch.”

  Silence greeted her command as awareness, sharp and tingling, started to dance along her nerves. When she was finished, Brynn dropped the bag and wiped her hands on the towel she kept in the ties of her apron. Eyeing the pretty cake she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at what she saw.

  “Looks pretty good to me,” she muttered to herself even though she wasn’t alone.

  She felt Jax move to her side and peer over her shoulder at the finished product. “Wow. That’s a lot of fucking work for a cake,” he answered. “But yeah, Brynn. It looks amazing.”

  “This is nothing,” she told him without turning around. “Come back when I’m doing superhero decorations and then you’ll see a lot of work.”

  “Hmmmph. Might have to take you up on that,” he murmured

  A couple of heartbeats went by. Then a couple more. She was frozen, immobile, and could not turn around and face him right then if her life depended on it. She felt his sigh when his breath touched her skin.

  “Are you going to look at me Brynn?” he asked. The tension in his voice matched what was racing through her nerves.

  “Can’t,” she whispered.

  “Why?”

  Her shoulders rolled in a defeated shrug. “Embarrassed. Confused.” She kept the last comment to herself. Scared.

  His hand reached under her ponytail and wrapped around the back of her neck making a desperate quivering moan escape her mouth.

  “Me too,” he told her quietly.

  Well that certainly had her turning his way damn quick. He was so close they almost collided. Immediately seeking his eyes, she was taken aback by the look of vulnerability she caught in his gaze.

  “Good morning,” he drawled before lowering his mouth to hers.

  With his hand on her neck and his lips so sweetly kissing hers, Brynn swayed closer, unable to halt her reaction. When he finally drew back, she was clutching at his shirt with hands that were not all that steady.

  “Hi.” She was surprised by how husky and seductive her voice sounded.

  He was checking her out with an intensity that Brynn didn’t know how to interpret. The vulnerability she’d seen in his expression had been replaced by something else. He looked …well, he looked like he was about to walk the green mile. She felt her eyebrows bump together with uncertainty.

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, love,” he told her with a frown. “Me? Not so much.”

  She inhaled sharply and looked away. That was the first time he’d called her ‘love’ when they weren’t engaged in some sort of intimate encounter. Nobody had ever said that to or about her before and she had supposed when he did, it was just a figure of speech. What did he mean by, ‘Me? Not so much’?

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about either.”

  He snorted and gripped her neck harder. “Fuck yeah I do. Lost control.”

  Ohhhhh. Maybe that explained the look of vulnerability.

  “Did I hur
t you Brynn? Don’t try and spare my feelings. I want the truth.”

  Hurt her? How? She was confused. “Jax. I’m not hurt. What are you talking about?”

  He looked at her for a good long time, and she returned his gaze.

  “I thought maybe I’d been too rough with you last night.”

  The light bulb went on over her thick skull. Best she let him off the hook before he fell on the proverbial sword with guilt.

  “Yeah, well…about that,” she murmured. His eyes flared with worry so she quickly added, “It was kind of mutual, don’t you think? Being rough, I mean. That’s what I’m embarrassed about. Confused too. I’m not that girl, Jax. I don’t sleep around and have never, ever behaved before as I did with you last night.” She felt a heated blush slide across her face.

  His jaw clenched and she saw that flash of vulnerability again. “I know who you are Brynn. Don’t doubt that for a second. And what’s happening between is a fuck ton more than just sleeping around.”

  Yikes. He was steering the conversation into the danger zone. She wasn’t ready to get into it with him. Not while her emotions were all over the map. What she needed was a quick conversational pivot.

  “Amy saw your truck in the lot this morning. I think she’s picking out wedding invitations as we speak.” Holy shitballz. Had those words actually just come out of her foolish mouth? Some fucking pivot, she groaned silently.

  He laughed and gave her neck one last squeeze. “She’s just watching out for you. You’re lucky to have back-up who cares so much.”

  Whew. Relief coursed through her. He was going to let the wedding comment slide. Thank God for small mercies.

  “Look,” he told her. “I’ve got some business to take care of this morning, and if you’re serious about me using the loft while the house project is going on, I want to check out of my B&B and stop by the township building to register my contractor’s license. That way we can jump right in and get the ball rolling.”

  “Oh. Sure, okay. Good idea. I’ll call a friend who has a housekeeping business and have her get the loft and studio cleaned up.”

  “Sounds perfect. And don’t worry—I’ll do the walk of shame out to my truck via the back door so Amy can’t yank my chain. That way your honor can be preserved, and I won’t have to hang my head like a naughty boy.”

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and handed it to her. “Set me up with your contact info. Will make keeping you in the loop a hell out a lot easier once work gets started than having to hunt you down every time there’s a question.”

  “Okay, but no dick pics although the occasional meme is fine,” she joshed.

  Brynn did a double take when a dark scowl spread across his face. Jesus, she was just joking around.

  “Some asshole sent you a dick pic?” he questioned with fury dripping from every syllable.

  Uh oh. He looked like doing somebody bodily harm was well within the realm of possibility. Note to self, she thought. Don’t poke the bear in its cage.

  “Sorry. I was just kidding.” She hurriedly typed her info into his phone and handed it back to him aware the entire time that his jaw was literally grinding.

  It took Jax the rest of the day to get everything done that needed his attention. By the time he was heading back to the Wilde House, he had a temporary permit from the local officials, all his gear stowed in the back of the truck, and a handful of tile samples from a home improvement store he located out along the main highway. He also had a pocket full of business cards for plumbers and electricians and even an artisan who specialized in hand blown glass sink bowls. All in all a busy and productive day.

  It was coming up on six o’clock, the time when Brynn was usually leaving the shop. Stopping on the outskirts of town to gas up the truck, he pulled out his phone and scrawled through the contacts until he found her name. He liked having her there, even if it was only in a phone list. Made him feel connected to her in some weird way.

  He sent her a quick text saying he was on his way and had picked up pizza for dinner. It bothered the shit out of him that she took such piss-poor care of herself. As if the unusual hours and long, grueling work day wasn’t enough, when he’d poked around her kitchen to see what constituted as food in her world, he’d been annoyed by what he found. If it was processed, full of sugar, crap, and preservatives it was on the menu. The thought made him shudder.

  Between his medical training and a couple of years of eating flat-out shit while stationed in Iraq, Jax had developed a true appreciation for anything healthy and organic. It seemed funny to him that he was the nurturer type while she was the one focused on other things.

  He waited impatiently in the cab of the truck until she finally texted him back to say she’d meet him at the house. Flipping on the radio, he picked an oldies satellite station and pulled onto the backroads for the twenty-minute trip. The aroma of the pizza on the seat next to him was almost his undoing. Lunch seemed like a million hours ago, and he was more than ready to inhale half a dozen slices by himself.

  He finally arrived at the Wilde House and made his way up the long driveway that was completely separate from the business. Parking next to her vehicle he noted that she drove a hybrid car with an interesting crystal at the end of a beaded wire hanging from the rearview mirror. Brynn didn’t seem like the crystal type, and he smiled, thinking to himself that there was a lot about her he didn’t know. Nor she about him.

  He rang the front doorbell, but she didn’t answer the door. Next he gave a couple of sharp raps on the wood door. Still nothing. Finally after a few minutes of standing there he tried the doorknob, found it unlocked, and pushed it open. He swore under his breath. Fuck. Not only didn’t she eat well, she had no sense of her own security if she just randomly left shit unlocked.

  Calling out the moment his feet hit the foyer, he looked around anxiously, ripping his sunglasses off and tossing them on a hall table. All of his protective tendencies were on high-alert. His heart began thumping as old instincts took control of him.

  “Brynn. You home?” he barked.

  Relief washed over him when she appeared a moment later coming from the second floor.

  “I smell pizza,” she drawled lazily as she came plodding down the steps in what could only be described as a head-fucking dress that made her look like a teenager. Taking in the wet curls around her shoulders and the fresh-faced look of a woman just out of the shower, Jax had to mentally count back from one hundred before he got all up in her grill about leaving the door unlocked while she was alone in the house. Knowing she was naked and in the shower only made it worse.

  She looked at him quizzically, her face a mass of contradictions, when he didn’t say anything right away. Looking back over her shoulder as if she expected to see an axe murderer storming down the steps, she frowned. “What? What’s the matter?”

  Jax wasn’t sure what to say or how to react. The emotions racing through him were helped along by the PTSD that plagued him. When you spend months on end in an environment where there was no front line, living moment to moment knowing there was a possibility that someone was going to take a shot at you or strap on a suicide vest, it made personal security a real issue. Finding Brynn alone and vulnerable made him anxious and got his adrenaline pumping.

  “Please don’t leave the door unlocked again, okay?” he cautioned in as calm a voice as he could muster.

  “I knew you were on your way,” Brynn mumbled, her face filled with questions. “Nobody ever comes up here,” she was quick to reassure him.

  “Yeah, well I don’t care. You never know when some dickhead is going to go off on a rampage.”

  She bit her lip and fiddled with the damp curls. He got the distinct impression she was trying to read his every thought. Instead of railing at him about how she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, which was what he expected, she gave him an almost imperceptible head nod and told him, “Okay.”

  Her calm response and the way she accepted his decree we
re like opening a pressure valve on his adrenaline rush. Sometimes his reactions to certain situations, still to this day and probably for the rest of his life, made him a difficult son-of-a-bitch.

  She didn’t smile at him, but she did look him straight in the eyes, which went a long way to easing his anxiety. After only two days he was drowning in possessive and defensive impulses where Brynn was concerned.

  Walking past him, she headed toward the kitchen telling him as she passed, “Remind me after we eat to give you the set of keys I had made. One for the house and the other for the loft.”

  She’d had keys made? An emotion he couldn’t describe cascaded from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.

  In the kitchen he dropped the two large pizzas onto the counter and steadied himself. She practically shoved him aside to get at the boxes cooing, “Ooooh, what do we have? Smells yummy.”

  He wasn’t sure if she was oblivious to the crisis that just passed or was trying to deflect his attention. Either way, he took a deep breath and pushed the prickling urges that messed with his head as far away as he could.

  “I didn’t know what you liked so I got a little of everything. Plain cheese. Pepperoni. Some white concoction called a Greek with spinach, feta, and olives and my personal favorite—veggie.”

  She was yanking open the door to the fridge when she asked, “Beer, wine, milk or water?”

  Milk with pizza? Yeah. He didn’t think so but knowing it was on offer meant she’d gotten provisions at some point because there certainly hadn’t been any milk in the fridge before.

  “If the beer is ice cold, I’m in. If not…you need a good spanking.”

  Brynn snorted with amusement and stuck her tongue out at him. “Nice try. Of course it’s ice cold, silly. I’m not a heathen! Two beers coming up, sir. You grab some plates and I’ll meet you at the table.”