Page 24 of Kiss Marry Kill
Absolutely not.
“I understand. I’ll consult with you first. You’re the client.” She was a lot more than a client, but still. . . .
“I’m going to hold you to that, Jackson. And not only because I’m your client, but because you know me and you know this is important to me. And the fact that you saved some of my trees does make me feel a little better.”
“I’m glad, sweetheart,” he said, letting out his own small sigh of relief. She even smiled a little when he called her sweetheart. He inched closer to her, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I need you to understand that I go overboard because I’m worried. I want to make sure everything is perfectly safe.”
“I know. Why do you think I’m letting you off the hook so easily?” She picked up the sandwich and took a huge bite. “I’m also so hungry, I don’t have the energy to be mad,” she said with her mouth full of food.
“So I’m forgiven?”
“Forgiven is a big statement. More like, I’m not firing you or clubbing you with one of the palm tree stumps you removed.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough.”
She took another bite, her mouth opening wide—not at all ladylike, but damn if her confidence wasn’t a turn-on. The woman was hungry, so she fucking ate. And Jax couldn’t take his eyes off her. Especially when she licked some crumbs off of her lips with her tongue. Unable to contain himself, he reached forward and wiped her lip with his thumb, his palm lingering close to her face.
She closed her eyes and gasped softly, then whispered, “déjà vu.”
He crinkled his forehead questioningly.
“At that hole-in-the-wall café where you first took me? You did that same thing.” She averted her eyes and went back to the sandwich. He wanted to say so many things, but what could he possibly say? He needed to keep this professional. He needed to stop the sly touches. Needed to stop caring whether she was sad, as long as she was safe. Luckily, she changed the subject after the next bite. “This is so good.” She moaned and opened up the sandwich to look inside. “Roast beef? Mayo? I know for a fact, that this did not come from my fridge.”
“Hell no,” he chuckled. “You only had healthy shit. My crew would pass out if I brought out a salad for them. Who the hell eats that much kale? I had one of the guys go to the deli and pick up sandwiches.”
“Nancy’s going to kill me.”
“Who’s Nancy?”
“She’s the PR chick from the label. She’s always on our asses to keep in shape. Thus the reason the food in the fridge sucks,” she mumbled with a full mouth.
“That’s some bullshit. You look great, Meg. If I haven’t said it yet, you do. I had a memory of what you looked like five years ago, but seeing you now again?” He shook his head. “My memory was off. You’re gorgeous.” Damn it, not two seconds ago he was vowing to keep things professional. Well, this was friendly and they did, after all have a past. So friendly professional would be okay, he thought, knowing full well he was full of shit.
“Thanks.” Apparently the table was fascinating, because she was looking down, avoiding eye contact, her face hot. He leaned over and with his index finger he lifted her chin. “Stop hiding your eyes from me.”
“I’m not.”
“Yeah, baby, you are.” His gruff voice and the endearment surprised him as much as it surprised her. The way her brown eyes widened and her lips parted . . .
Fuck. He needed a change of conversation before he leaned over and licked those plump lips. “So anyway, we can stay here tonight. The inside alarms should be done. There’s a few things I want to fix, but you should be good. They’ll finish the outside shit tomorrow.”
She looked up, confused. “We?”
Was that a hopeful we? It sounded like it and his pulse spiked. “Until this is all resolved, I’m staying close.”
She looked at him questioningly.
“I won’t cramp your space, this house is huge, you won’t even notice I’m here.”
“You’re like seventeen feet tall.”
“Six-two.”
“Same thing. You’re kinda a hard guy to blend in.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Will you keep bringing food like this?”
