JAXON (The Caine Brothers Book 4) (3 page)

“Undressing? I’m going shower. Most people do that naked.”

“How about you wait until I’ve left the room.”

“What’s the matter, never seen a naked man?”

“Well, of course I have.” The stammered words didn’t even convince her. “I’m just not used to strangers stripping in front me so casually.”

The seductive grin that unfurled on his lips made her shiver in anticipation. Of what, she had no idea, but whatever it was had to be really good.

“You haven’t.”

“Haven’t what?”

“Seen a naked man.”

“I have too. Not that it’s any of your business. I’m not a virgin, you know.” She snapped her mouth shut. What an idiot. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and focused, trying to calm her fluttery mind before releasing the air on a controlled sigh. “I’m sorry. That was too much information. I’ll go collect your things.”

“When you’ve left, how am I supposed to find the bathroom? Towels? Soap?” His voice sounded sincere, but an edge of teasing snuck in.

“You really can’t see well enough?” she asked, exasperated.

“It’s clearing up, but still blurry. Hurts, too.”

“Oh good grief.” She marched up to him, reluctant to touch his skin for fear it would inflame her budding desire for him, but determined to get this scene over and behind her. She propelled him toward the bathroom. Once inside, she grabbed a towel and washcloth from the cupboard and placed them on the counter, then snatched his wrist and placed his hand on the linens. “Here are towels. Soap and shampoo are in the shower. I absolutely will not stay and help you shower.”

Spinning on her heel she marched to the door before turning to regard him. His smile should have pissed her off. Made her indignant and embarrassed. Instead, it touched off a corresponding conspiratorial spark inside that she squashed with alacrity. The last thing she wanted was to reward him for teasing her.

She lifted her chin and gave him a dismissive sniff. “And I’m sorry I sprayed you. But you really should be more respectful of people’s space.”

Then she made an emphatic exit.

While Jaxon showered, Summer showed up to pick up some produce from the garden.

Lily hauled a box of sweet potatoes out to Summer’s van. She spent a lot of her free time at Summer’s restaurant, Houston Fresh, delivering surplus from her garden, and helping out. Maybe for a chance to eat Summer’s cooking, too.

Summer picked one out of the box and wiped the dirt off it. Holding it up to her nose, she took a long whiff of it. “Ah,” she said. “These will make amazing soup. And pie.”

“Mm-hmm,” Lily said, but her thoughts lingered on the man upstairs.

“Whose car?” Summer asked.

“House guest of Uncle Larry.”

“Isn’t Larry in Europe somewhere?”

“He is, but this guy’s a friend of a friend, and Larry said he could stay for a while.”

“It’s a guy?” Summer asked, her smirk suggesting her interest.

“I’ve never had sweet potato soup,” Lily said, changing the subject. “I can’t wait to taste it.”

Summer shot her a skeptical look. “Fine. Ignore my question. I’ll cook dinner for just the two of us next week. It’s the least I can do to pay you for all the food you donate. If you think you can fit me into your schedule, that is.”

The fact that Lily stretched herself too thin had been a sticking point between her and Summer for a while. They’d been best friends since high school and knew each other better than either of them knew anyone else. That Summer—who owned and operated her own restaurant and pretty much worked herself into the ground—accused Lily of overwork, really said something about Lily’s life.

“Well, now that James and I have broken up, I’ll have more free time.”

Summer looked up from examining a basket of green onions, surprise written all over her face. “You finally dumped him?”

“We came to a mutual agreement.”

Summer snorted. “That sounds about as stiff and boring as your entire relationship with him.”

Lily stiffened, folding her arms across her chest in what she recognized as a classic defensive posture. Yet, she couldn’t help it. Her hackles always went up when anyone criticized her choices in men. Maybe that reaction should have been her first clue. “It wasn’t stiff and boring. It was respectful and intellectual. We had a lot in common.”

“Uh huh. Stiff and boring, just like I said. Your taste in men is horrible. They’re all the same.”

“I like nice, proper, non-threatening men.”

“You treat romantic relationships like a job, or a mission, or another one of your causes. What happened to the romance in romance?” Summer paused from sorting the pallet of snap peas, a look of epiphany on her face. “Have you ever just let go and had a fling?”

The man upstairs in the shower came unbidden to Lily’s mind. She pushed him out. “Why would I do that? It seems like such a waste of time.”

Summer laughed. “Lily, I love you dearly, but you are the most uptight person I’ve ever met. Not everything needs to be planned and calculated. Maybe just once you should let loose and have some fun just for the sake of having fun.”

Flinging her hands up in frustration, Lily said, “And what am I supposed to do, throw myself at the first man who comes along?” Jaxon excluded, of course. The first man
after
him.

“Not the first one, but maybe the first sexy one,” Summer said. She placed a hand on Lily’s shoulder and looked her in the eye, kindness softening her features. “You work so hard at helping other people. Instead of trying so hard to find the guy who checks all your ‘perfect man’ boxes on paper, maybe you need to just do something for yourself.”

Lily harrumphed her doubt. “It’s not like I have a lot of experience with men. I wouldn’t know how to have a fling.”

Before Summer could answer, the sound of the front door opening drew their attention. Jaxon stood barefoot on the porch wearing only jeans, the end of a white t-shirt tucked into the waistband, the rest of it dangling down his leg, for later use. Gorgeous didn’t begin to describe him. The redness and swelling had disappeared. His wavy dark blonde hair fell to his shoulders still damp from the shower, a few days’ dark scruff dusted his square jaw, and when he saw them and smiled, dimples framed his lips.

And then there was his body.

A wicked chuckle nearby broke the spell. “Ask and ye shall receive,” Summer said.

Lily cleared her throat and tore her eyes from Jaxon. “Hush.”

“
This
is your uncle’s house guest?” Summer asked.

“Yes.”

“He is h-o-t, hot. I’d totally do him for fun.”

“Well, he’s a houseguest.”

“And that precludes having sex with him?”

“That and my conscience.”

“Pfft.” Summer waved away Lily’s conscience as if it meant nothing.

“Ladies.” Jaxon waved from the porch, an air of casual grace about the way he moved.

“Hi,” Summer said. She waved and headed for the porch. Lily followed along behind, helpless to stop the scene from playing out. “I’m Summer Trevino.” Summer offered her hand to shake.

Before Summer made things a lot worse, Lily stepped in and said, “While you were in the shower…”

Summer made an amused snorting sound. “In the shower?”

“Never mind,” Lily said. She had no desire to recount the entire incident. It would only prolong
this
incident, and refresh her guilt. “While you were in the shower, I spoke to my uncle. He confirmed your manager, Mike, had called and asked if you could stay for a while. We had words about forgetting to tell me and how it would have prevented the earlier situation. I’m sorry again, Mr. Caine.”

Jaxon shot them one of those dimple-grins again and something twitched in Lily’s belly. “Mr. Caine’s awfully formal. Just call me Jaxon.”

“Wait,” Summer said. “You’re Jaxon Caine? From Raising Caine?”

His grin got bigger, but something about it seemed fake. Sure, charm oozed from every pore, but it came across as artificial. Or forced. She might have been wrong, but she caught a tiny hint of panic flash in his eyes.

“I am.” He took Summer’s hand to shake, but then leaned in as if he had a secret to tell her. “But I’m here for a retreat, so don’t tell anyone, okay?”

Summer patted his hand. “No problem, handsome. As long as you do me a favor.”

She shot Lily a conspiratorial look that drove Lily’s stomach to drop into a chasm of humiliated fear. She jumped in to prevent disaster. “Summer, you can’t be asking him for favors. He probably gets that all the time. Leave the poor man alone.”

The poor man in question watched the exchange with a bemused smirk on his face, but he seemed to be grateful that Lily had saved him from having to dodge a favor. If he only knew what favor he’d dodged. If nothing else, Lily was certainly grateful.

“At the very least, you’re welcome to come be my guest at the restaurant,” Summer said.

“Restaurant?”

Summer pointed to the side of the van that said Houston Fresh and sported her restaurant logo. “My place. You’ll love it.”

“I look forward to it.” Jaxon said.

“Okay, we’re going to finish loading up this produce, Lily said. “Be right back.”

Lily grabbed Summer by the elbow and guided her back to the van. They loaded the last couple of baskets into the back, and Summer shut the door. She leaned in to hug Lily. “Don’t forget what I said. Do something for yourself.”

Summer glanced in the direction of the porch, and Lily followed her gaze. Jaxon still stood there, unwilling to follow them barefoot into the gravel driveway. His naked chest called like a siren song to some animal part of her, and his jeans hugged his thighs perfectly. She usually went for men who wore suits and slacks. The country club set with Ivy League educations and trust funds. Men with stable, dependable futures. They were safe and predictable and allowed her to throw all her passion into the causes that were important to her. Jaxon was anything but stable, dependable, safe, or predictable. As far as she knew, anyway. However, his broad shoulders tapering to narrow hips spoke to all her baser human instincts. The parts of her never touched by the men she usually chose.

“We’ll see,” Lily muttered.

Summer stood back and bounced on her toes, clapping her hands. “This is going to be epic.”

“I never agreed to anything.”

“But wouldn’t it be a great story to tell for the rest of your life, about the fling you had with a sexy, famous rock star?”

Jaxon followed Lily back into the air-conditioned house. He’d been taken aback by her out in the driveway. Getting his first good non-maced view of her petite form, fiery copper hair, and hazel eyes, she’d surprised him with her cool businesslike demeanor. It was nothing like the spitfire from earlier.

But her jeans covered in dirt, white tank top, black Keds, the pink bandana around her neck, and the gardening gloves sticking out of her pocket suggested down to earth, at the very least.

Summer—a tall, lanky brunette with a sexy sparkle in her eyes—was easy to figure out. He was more used to her reaction. Women usually gushed over him. Lily swung between attacking and dismissing.

Watching Lily’s pretty little bottom sway through the door in front of him didn’t help his determination to stay away from women. A luscious, round metronome, it begged for an accompanying rhythm, maybe something that involved nudity and thrusting.

He shook his head to rid himself of the enticing image.

“Where’s your room?” he asked, mostly so he’d know where to avoid.

In the midst of the foyer, she turned and frowned at him. “In the other wing. But you don’t need to worry about that. Just stick to your wing,” she gestured to the stairs leading up to the east side of the house. “And the public rooms on the main floor.”

He flicked her a quick salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

An adorable little smile ghosted her lips before she glanced away. It could almost—almost—be called coy. “Anyway, go ahead and get settled. Dinner will be at seven.”

She headed to the stairs for the west wing, while he took the steps to the east. It took him a few minutes to find his room. He didn’t recognize it compared to all the other rooms except for his bags spread out on the king-sized bed. The dark wood head and footboards and white bedding, a dresser, night stands, and desk in the same wood as the bed filled the room, along with a beige couch and arm chair, and white carpet. White drapes completed the décor. It screamed neutral impersonal tax write-off.

He hadn’t taken the time to explore after he’d showered, just headed downstairs, but now he went to the window to check out the view. When he realized he had a sliding door and deck, he stepped outside, despite the Texas August heat. The view gave him a better appreciation for the scope of the estate. While he couldn’t see the entire property, in the near vicinity outbuildings included a garage, a small barn with fenced areas outside it, a good-sized greenhouse, and several nondescript shed-type buildings. The garden area impressed him the most, though. Practical rather than ornamental, tidy rows of vegetables marched up and down the plot. Behind that, yellow, orange, and red bits peeked from the green of a small orchard.

Lily was a woman of many layers, each of them more interesting than the last—pepper-spray ninja, cool and aloof estate manager, gardening earth mother.

At six-thirty, Jaxon left his room for the kitchen. Heading out into the hall, he looked left and right into the same dark wood and whiteness. The sameness of everything confused him. Left, the hallway ended at a large window a few doors down. Right headed off into the bowels of the house. He turned right.

Most of the doors along the hall were open. The purpose of the room didn’t matter—bedroom, bathroom, library, office—they all looked the same.

At the end of the hall, he descended the stairs, wondering if he’d ever locate Lily. Dark wood, white, black, and beige filled the main floor, too, from foyer to living room, gallery, and dining room. He couldn’t remember a more boring palette. Every room was interchangeable. Stately, reserved, expensive, imposing, and boring as fucking hell. He’d seen more exciting hotel interiors.

He hadn’t had much time to explore before Lily arrived home earlier in the day and pepper-sprayed him, and after having wandered the east wing some, he’d confused himself sufficiently he didn’t remember where the kitchen was.