Page 73 of Kiss Marry Kill
Jax looked around, feeling the hairs behind his neck stand up. Reaching behind his back, he took his Sig Sauer from the waistband of his shorts, keeping it shielded behind him, thankful he’d had the foresight to grab the weapon before walking out the door. Rambo continued to bark at the gate, but it was too dark to see what was on the other side.
Standing aside, hidden by the hedges, Jax knelt down in an effort to see further. Rambo continued to bark and then the bark changed to a growl. Fuck, someone was there. Bringing his gun in front of him and removing the safety, Jax crouched, ready to defend himself if necessary.
A noise came from the other side of the hedges, and then a light, like a flashlight. But still it wasn’t possible to make anything out. His heart beat faster, and adrenaline was kicking in. The sound came closer, almost like a motor, and the lights brighter. Then the noise stopped and the light shone toward the house. He was a mere foot away, just the width of the hedges separating him from whomever was there.
Rambo growled louder.
This would be his only chance to see the perp, since catching him wouldn’t be possible, as there was a gate he couldn’t scale between them.
“Hiya boy. How are ya?” the person on the other side chirped.
Creeping closer to where the hedges met the iron gate, Jax risked a look.
He felt his muscles sag with relief. Shit, it was just the security guard from the island, a man he’d met before. He locked his gun and put it away, then stood up and moved forward. “Carl.”
Startled, Carl dropped his flashlight. The older gentleman stood with shaky hands, looking around.
“It’s me, Jackson.”
A hand clutching his chest, the man said, “Jackson. Christ, you almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing hiding back there?”
“I was just doing a sweep. What are you doing?”
“My nightly rounds. I was instructed to pay particular care with this house. So I brought a flashlight and was going to look around. See if anything was amiss.”
As if the old man would be able to do much.
“You carry a gun, Carl?”
“Sure do. May look old, son, but you’d be surprised.”
“I’m sure you’re capable, Carl. Wouldn’t want to cross you, that’s for sure,” Jax said, trying not to glance down at the flashlight still on the ground. Carl was a good man, trying to do his job, and Jax sincerely appreciated it. “Leave you to it, then. ’Night.”
“’Night, son.”’
“Let’s go, Rambo.”
After the adrenaline rush there was no way he’d be able to go back to sleep. Next week they had that goddamn dinner with her friends and in two weeks they’d be leaving on tour. His anxiety levels were at an all-time high, and if he went to sleep now, he’d be tossing and turning for the rest of the night. And if sleep somehow did find him, he’d surely have a nightmare and wake Megan up. So instead of going to bed, Jax booted up his laptop on her dining room table, and got to work.
By the time the sun rose, he’d gone through the footage from the break-in a dozen times. Not one clue. Nothing. Yawning loudly, he closed the laptop and started up the coffee.
“Hey.”
He turned around to see Megan in just her white lace panties and nothing else, her hair wild and her eyes still sleepy. “Hi,” he said, hoarsely, unable to look away.
Would he ever not want her?
Would he ever not find her beautiful?
He knew the answer to each question was a resounding no.
“You’re not in bed,” she said with a yawn.
Her tits, perfect full globes . . .
She looked down at her chest where his eyes were fixed.
“You want to come back to bed?” She smiled, sleepily . . . coyly.
