Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4) (29 page)

The air got so thick, she had difficulty breathing.

Going for light, she shrugged. “Putting up with you had its perks.”

Jack’s laughter rumbled through her body.

She lifted her head to him. Yes, the whole nightmare with Maldonado was over, she was free from that, but did she want to be free of Jack?

“About that.” She cleared her throat. She wasn’t sure how to say this. She wasn’t used to having to spell it out for guys. The intense way he was staring at her wasn’t helping either.

But they’d been through so much together. She’d seen the good, the bad, and the ugly of him. And he’d sure as hell gotten closely acquainted with all her sides. She’d told him things she hadn’t opened up about with anybody else, not even her sister. Yes, they had their sticking points, but what worthwhile relationship didn’t? She couldn’t quite believe she was using the words “Jack” and “relationship” in the same sentence, but there it was.

She wanted to reach out for him because it felt right, even if she might get her hand chopped off, so she caressed his cheek. “From one to ten, how bad was it to be around me?”

A smile flashed on his otherwise severe face. “Let’s recap: you’ve yelled at me and accused me of being married to my sister, you ditched me to go to work, disposed of my tracking bugs. You got me dressed up like a devil, tail included. I almost beat the shit out of everybody in the gym and had a heart attack during your twerking class. Actually, you’ve given me several heart attacks. You made me lose all my marbles and fuck you in a public parking lot—”

“And a boxing ring,” she added.

“True. You had me drive all over Boston to make it to a flash mob in the middle of a busy intersection. You shortened my life span by fifteen years, at the very least. So from one to ten, ten being the worst? Twelve, pet. Being involved with you has been a twelve.”

She grimaced. “That bad?”

“Yeah. It was that fucking bad because it was that fucking good.”

What the hell did that mean? Whatever. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Who says we have to stop seeing each other?”

He snorted. “Common sense? This was just a temporary arrangement.”

“I know, but circumstances change, right?”

“Nothing has changed,” he said, the lightness suddenly disappearing from his tone.

“For me it has.” Elle tried to ignore his forbidding stare and the silence and forged ahead. “I know I’m not exactly what you’re searching for, but let’s face it, you won’t find it in this century,” she said with a smile. “And I am a way better option: I do exist. I’m real. Not to mention you also need some work, you know, in the human interface department, which I’m ready to take on.”

Her attempts at joking didn’t get her anywhere. His face was inscrutable.

For some reason, she felt unsure for the first time around Jack, and, pulling at the sheet, she covered herself.

“I can drive you a bit crazy, and you press so many of my buttons you make me see red, but we haven’t killed each other. The good trumps the bad.” There she went, taking the huge leap of faith. Hoping he’d catch her. “I don’t believe I’m saying this, but I really like you and I think we have something worth pursuing here. It’s undeniable that the chemistry between us is off the charts. I enjoy spending time with you, in a weirdly masochistic sort of way, but I do. And I’d say you do too. Now that we don’t have all that life-and-death stuff hanging over our heads, we could give this a go. See where it takes us. Start light and do normal things normal people do. I know a little Italian restaurant that could take a short-notice reservation for dinner tomorrow. What do you say?”

“We agreed there was no future for this.”

“Walking away from each other is probably the smartest thing to do, but I don’t want to. I really, really don’t want to.”

“I do,” he said curtly.

O-kay.

There, her hand chopped off.

Her whole head, actually.

Something compelled her to keep talking. “Do you feel anything for me?”

His grim expression didn’t bode well. “Do you really want an answer to that?”

“Yes, I think I do.” She deserved more than a brushoff. She deserved the words. Or so she thought. As soon as he opened his mouth, she realized her mistake.

“Not enough.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Do you think I’m the sort of guy who would waste time lying?”

He had a point there.

“What do you want me to say?” he continued. “That I enjoyed fucking you, but this is as far as I’m willing to go? Is that what you want to hear?”

He didn’t blink while delivering the blow. His voice didn’t waver, not even once. Not even a little.

“I see.” For once in her life, she was out of words. Her throat clogged. Poor Elle, moping like a kicked puppy because a man didn’t want anything to do with her. Fighting not to lose her composure, she smiled. “Well, there it is then. I think I’m going to go now.”

Holding the sheet in front of her and doing her damnedest to keep her smile in place, she gathered her clothes and moved to the bathroom to dress and piece together her shattered dignity. That’s what she got for sticking her neck out. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It didn’t work. Her dignity was beyond salvation. But losing it and storming out of there wouldn’t work. Jack would throw her over his shoulder and take her home. Talk about lost dignity. The spoiled rotten little girl throwing a tantrum because the grown-up hadn’t wanted to give in to her.

By the time she left the bathroom, Jack was dressed too.

The fifteen-minute drive to her house lasted an eternity, the silence frigging uncomfortable, weighing a ton. Although it didn’t seem to bother him in the least. It was business as usual for The Borg. At least he didn’t give her the it’s-not-you-it’s-me line.

The Bowens appeared at the front door when they pulled into the driveway, their chattering and fussing over her a welcome distraction from the tension in the car.

“You not coming in?” James asked as they walked to the porch.

He shook his head.

They noticed something was not right. Well, Tate did, because she pushed her husband and Cole inside and said, “We’ll give you some privacy.”

“No need,” Elle said, but they’d left, leaving Jack and Elle alone.

Elle’s gaze drifted away from him. She was fidgeting. “I guess this is good-bye. Thank you for all that you did for me. I really appreciate it.”

He nodded curtly. “I’ll send someone to pick up my things.”

“I’ll give them to James.”

Oh, look at them. How very polite. She felt like gagging. Or screaming at the top of her lungs. Shaking the living shit out of him and his imperturbable calm.

“Jack?” she called out. “Not giving us a chance is a mistake. I never thought I’d say this to you, but you’re a coward. And you are the one who can’t take me on.”

His gaze was forbidding. “Pet…”

“Don’t sweat it, I get it. Wrong pet,” she finished.

He didn’t deny it; he said nothing. After holding her gaze for a second, he turned around and left, never looking back.

Chapter Eighteen

“You fucked up, bro,” Ronnie said. “Royally.”

“Watch it, kiddo.”

“I’m watching it,” she said, sprawled on the chair near him. “I have a great view of the roadkill.”

Come on, he’d never been the life of the party. He couldn’t be so much worse than usual. “Not forcing my company on anyone. You’re more than welcome to leave.” That was actually why he’d escaped Boston and gone to the cabin, to be left alone. No such luck.

“I saw you together,” Ronnie insisted. “You had something there.”

Jack flinched at those words. Elle had uttered them too. “Sure we did, a recipe for disaster,” he muttered after downing half his beer.

It had killed him to walk out on her, but he’d done it. And he would do it again, in a heartbeat, because it was the right thing to do. The reasonable thing to do.

The only thing to do.

What seemed unreasonable to him was why, after ten days, he was still having trouble swallowing it. He never wallowed over past decisions. He always moved on without as much as a backward glance. Not this time.

For one, because he hadn’t been ready for that conversation. He hadn’t expected Elle to bring up the subject so boldly. He would have thought she’d be ecstatic to get rid of him. Instead, she’d basically said she wanted to be with him. No one voluntarily, except for Ronnie, had ever wanted to spend time with him. And if he got real, Ronnie didn’t count, seeing as she was his little sister and was more or less forced to put up with him. He was too controlling, too unbending. Too grating. Too abrasive. And too set in his own ways to make any adjustments.

“No recipe for disaster, just life. Messy, unplanned, full of surprises. Just a regular life,” Ronnie stated with a sigh. “And what the heck was that crap about looking for an Amish wife?”

“I never said an Amish wife. That was Elle’s choice of words.”

“I guess you gave her the bull about wanting a wifey wife. Someone to make a home for you and your kids yada, yada, yada.”

“It’s not bull.” He didn’t want to spend all his life running after his woman. He wanted peace of mind, thank you very much.

“It so is,” Ronnie countered. “You might want that—or believe you want that—but what you need is Elle. You need someone who will stand her ground and won’t give in to you. Keep you on your toes and make things interesting. You need someone who is your equal and is not scared to go nose-to-nose with you.”

“She would drive me crazy. We would not be good together.”

“You kidding? You were great together. I know what this is all about; you’re terrified. She got too close to you and surprise, surprise, she didn’t want to send you packing, so you ran at the first opportunity.”

“She’s not in danger any more. She doesn’t need me.”

It had been a piss-poor idea to bring Elle to his apartment in Boston, because now he had the visual of her around his place, wearing his T-shirts, sitting on his sofa. Haunting him and making his cock hard and his heart hurt.

The cabin wasn’t better, but at least here he could be left in peace. Well, that was before his sister had gotten her hands on the GPS coordinates and had decided to pay a visit.

“So you dumped her and left her on her own?”

“I didn’t leave her on her own. I have a guy keeping an eye on her.”

One of the charred bodies had been confirmed to be Maldonado’s and he doubted that anyone in Maldonado’s organization would bother to go after Elle, but still, leaving her totally unguarded didn’t sit right with him. Her comings and goings had to be restricted and monitored, at least for some time. He was counting on the Bowens for the restricting and Simon, one of his associates, for the monitoring.

He’d been using his contacts to get a feel for the situation and it was pretty calm. Maldonado’s empire wasn’t crumbling; there had been a couple of scuffles and some guys had gotten killed, but they were just middlemen. Nico, the Russian second in command, seemed to have everything under control.

So far, Jack had refused to read the reports on Elle from Simon, the hired hand. If he started down that stalking road, he would never resurface again. He couldn’t justify to himself that level of stalkerism, no way, no how.

Besides, Simon was a very competent man Jack had worked with on several assignments. Worried that she would eat Simon alive, Jack had issued him strict instructions on how to deal with Elle, but surprisingly enough, Elle hadn’t given him much shit, ignoring his presence most of the time. It looked like all that had been needed to get her to behave was to hurt her.

“Of course, because keeping an eye on her is something you can’t do yourself, right?” Ronnie asked belligerently, taking him out of his reverie.

No, that was something he couldn’t do by himself. He was unable to be around her without getting emotionally invested. He’d proved that repeatedly during their time together, running after her and allowing her to do things she shouldn’t have been allowed to. Not to mention he missed her so fucking much he physically hurt. Seeing her would worsen this stupid juvenile state of his. And yet, all she would have to do would be to misbehave in a big way and he knew, deep inside him, he would take over from Simon and go to her. And although she must have figured that out, she hadn’t done it. She was keeping a low profile—well, as low as possible for someone like Elle.

“What would you have me do, Ronnie? Play house with her?”

“Do you have feelings for her?” his sister demanded.

“That’s beside the point. I—”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Ronnie interrupted. “So, yeah, I expect my big brother to man up, act mature, and play house with the woman he has feelings for and who makes him smile like crazy. What do you have to lose?”

What did he have to lose? Not much really, just his heart, his sanity. His whole self. Small potatoes.

Elle had been right; he was being a coward, but someone had to maintain a cool head around here.

Did he have feelings for her? Fuck yeah. Had had those since the very first day he’d laid eyes on her and she’s smiled at him defiantly. Feelings were fleeting, though, not important. They could burn up the sheets, true, but what about outside the bedroom? Could he compromise on what he’d wanted all his life?

“Do you remember when I was little and you lectured me about doing the hard thing? This time you took the easy way out, so it’s my turn to call you out on your shit.”

“Leaving her was the hard thing,” he replied curtly.

He hadn’t seen Elle that quiet or still in his truck. Ever. She hadn’t fiddled with the radio or chatted. She hadn’t looked mad either; there had been a tinge of disappointment in her eyes, but her smile was firmly in place, her chin up.

Ronnie shook her head. “No, bro. It was the easiest, safest thing to do. For your heart.”

“She makes me smile, but she makes me crazy too.”

“That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Not for me it’s not.”

Ronnie snorted drily. “Not for you? What are you, a different species of human or what? Because the nickname Borg is just a jab, you know that, right?”