Page 15 of Kiss Marry Kill
It was time sweet sheltered Megan had some fun.
Chapter 4
PRESENT DAY
Megan’s internal clock was always off. Since she normally worked well into the evenings, she tended to sleep late into the day. Add the hellish night she had last night, it wasn’t surprising she woke up midday still shaken up from the break-in. What would Ryan have done if he found her? Her body quivered at the thought and she did her best to put it aside.
After rushing through her morning routine, she made the bed in the room Jax had put her up in and headed out to find him.
“Hello?” she yelled into the hallway of his quiet home. Last night it had been late by the time he’d pulled up to his house, and she’d struggled to keep her eyes open. Without much conversation, she’d followed him inside. He showed her to his extra room, placed her bag by the bed, asked her if she needed anything—but she’d been so tired, she just mumbled incoherently and practically face-planted onto the bed. Too tired to exhaust any more brain cells on the fact that she was about to go to sleep at Jax’s house, she fell right asleep. She woke up covered in a blanket and assumed Jax had tucked her in.
But now, in the daytime, she was able to take in the large square space. It was very different from the house he’d taken her to years back, a house he’d inherited from his grandparents: quaint, old, and by the ocean. This was obviously some sort of repurposed warehouse. The pipes and tubing were still exposed on the ceiling and the walls looked to be solid concrete. Everything was a dreary gray and the furniture was mostly black. Not one painting or picture hung anywhere. All the electronics and furniture seemed to be brand new and top of the line, including the biggest flat-screen television she’d ever seen. It wasn’t necessarily unappealing, just very cold and utilitarian.
“In here,” he hollered.
Padding to the kitchen, she saw him sitting in front of a laptop, reading. “Mornin’,” she said.
“There’s coffee.” He closed his laptop and looked up. It reminded her of the first day she met him, how he’d always given her his full attention. “Want some?”
She nodded and pulled out a chair by the enormous island that separated the kitchen from the rest of the room, watching him pour sugar and milk into a cup of coffee—he remembered how she liked it, which made her heart flutter. “Breakfast or lunch?” he asked.
She reached forward and grabbed a banana. “I’m good for now.” She unpeeled it and took a bite. “I have a million questions.”
He slid the mug to her and stood across from her, his hands resting on the slab of marble. “I do too. You first.”
“You’re back.”
“That’s not a question.”
“I can’t believe I’m here with you. I mean, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
His face softened and there was the ghost of a smile hidden somewhere in his bushy beard. “Still not a question.”
“How long have you been back?”
“Few months.”
“What happened to you? Do you leave again?”
“Got blown up, got discharged, came home, not leaving again.” It was short, and she needed more information, but knowing he wasn’t going to expand, she moved on.
“Okay,” she singsonged, “are you married?”
Then she heard the very familiar and very welcome chuckle of Jackson Irons. It hit her right in the chest. It was her first glimpse of the old Jax. “No. Not married.”
“Do you want to know if I’m married?” she asked.
“Already know you’re not.”
His arms were big and bulky and the way that he leaned into the island made him look impatient. “Can you sit? You’re making me nervous.”
He pushed off the counter and sat on the chair across from her, the island between them.
“What do you do now?”
“I co-own Iron-Clad Security here in town. We do all types of security work including bodyguard, government ops, cyber-security, securing homes.”
She held out her finger and pointed to herself. “I’m pretty sure I’m in the market for some of that.”
