Page 42 of Kiss Marry Kill
“What if you’re wrong and it’s not Ryan? What if it’s someone else, Megan?” He snatched the package back out of her hands.
“Well, it’s not Pete!” How could one person go from hot to cold so quickly? Right before the run he was warm and playful, and forty-five minutes later, he’s a world-class jackass with zero regard for her opinion.
“Would you stop?” he said, as she tried to take the package back. “I’m not taking any chances with your safety, goddamn it.”
“It’s a contract I’ve been waiting for, for Christ’s sake.”
Carefully, Jax pulled the tab on the top of the envelope. He inspected the contents before pulling out the papers. Standing with her arms crossed, annoyed as hell, Megan looked down at the document he was holding and extended her hand. “It’s a contract,” he said.
Snatching it from his hand, she rolled her eyes. “You think?” And with a huff, walked back to her living room, furious, leaving him standing in the doorway.
“That was kind of hot.”
“Shut it, Nelly,” Megan said, slamming the papers down on the coffee table and going back to try on clothes.
“Okay so maybe he can’t multitask. . . .” Becca teased, from the other side of the screen.
* * *
Jax wasn’t the type to stay indoors or inactive for prolonged periods of time. Since he was old enough to walk, his parents had instilled in him a love of nature and being outdoors. Jogging, hiking, fishing, camping . . . those were things he did often. If he was forced indoors, he hit the gym whenever he could. But for the last few days he’d either been online or on the phone, and the walls were beginning to close in on him.
Seeing Megan busy with her girls, and his men outside working on security, he had thought he could go for a quick tension-releasing run around the island. But it took far too long for him to stop thinking of the way she kissed his cheek. So open and confident and sweet. Nothing overtly sexy, yet he had wanted more from her at that moment. So much more.
As he ran, he took stock of the palatial mansions that lined Star Island, all of them with the ocean as their backyard. The cruise ships, which were docked on the other side of the bay, were beginning to take off for their voyages full of vacationers. There were seagulls flying by and the sun was directly above him, sweltering his skin while his mind cleared and the endorphins kicked in.
Feeling much better—loose, yet in control—his mind feeling reset, he entered Megan’s house by a side door. He was turning a corner into the living room when he saw a man handing her a package.
A package.
Explosion.
Memories of a year back propelled him across the room and caused him to act like an ass. Sure, they should be cautious, but Joey had run a background check on every employee of the Star Island community. Jax knew there was no way Pete was the stalker—not with the knowledge they had about the globe-trotting that Megan’s shadow had done over the past two years. And yet, he couldn’t have helped his reaction if he’d tried.
He couldn’t continue this back and forth with Megan. One second they were affectionate and soft to one another, and the next moment they were at it like cats and dogs. Mostly from something he’d done. But still, it continued to happen and it was getting out of control. He couldn’t focus on security or on building a relationship with her because he was too busy constantly switching emotional gears. He was too busy reacting. Just like before.
He didn’t follow her into the living room to talk to her, not with her friends still there, and not when he didn’t even know how to explain his reaction to Pete. Plus, he’d noticed that she was the kind of woman who needed her space. Difficult as it was, he’d let her have her time to calm down while he took a shower and regrouped, and then they’d talk and he’d try to explain things to her.
* * *
Later that evening, after everyone had left, Jax found Megan doing sit-ups on a mat in her home gym. “I brought you a peace offering,” he said. “Spaghetti with homemade meat sauce.”
She wiped her face with a small towel and jumped up. “You’re forgiven.”
“So all it takes is food, huh?”
“Depends on the offense,” she said, picking up her stuff. “And I know you meant well . . . again.” She rolled her eyes.
“Talk to me. I know you can’t possibly forgive me just because I made food.”
She chuckled loudly. “You’ve tasted my cooking. I really can forgive you for food.” But then her tone changed, as if she was trying to figure something out. “How long are you staying here, Jax? It looks like your guys are done with the install, and the tour’s not for another month.”
“Am I bothering you?”
“No. I like having you here.” Then she turned her head and drawled, “Sometimes.”
He smiled, pulled her over to the bench, and sat down next to her. “I know. I know. I’m being overbearing.”
She put her thumb and finger together. “Just a tiny bit.”
