JAXON (The Caine Brothers Book 4) (9 page)

He closed the space between them in a couple of steps, nudging himself against her and without so much as a word he leaned down and kissed her. She tasted like salty hard work and conviction, and the sound she made in her throat as she opened her mouth for him hit all the right buttons. Before he knew it he’d grown hard as a rock and ready to lay her out on the chest freezer and take her right there.

Instead, he gentled the kiss and pulled back, leaning his forehead on hers. “You’re the most impressive woman I’ve ever met, Lily,” he whispered, then spun and headed upstairs practicing restraint—a concept so foreign to him he almost didn’t recognize it.

The next morning—eleven o’clock was still technically morning—Lily made breakfast with dumpster eggs and bacon, and put some aside for Jaxon. She popped bread into the toaster. She’d awakened grouchy and early—early for having gone to bed at after three. Once she’d fallen asleep it had been fitful and she’d awakened frustrated and confused about the way Jaxon had kissed her then walked away.

The heavenly scent of coffee filled the air, helping to relax her nerves a bit. She filled a cup and sipped, waiting for toast, letting the coffee work its magic.

The toast popped as Jaxon sauntered into the kitchen in bare feet wearing shorts, a white t-shirt, and yawning.

“Morning,” Lily said, buttering her toast.

Jaxon mussed his hair and smiled. “Morning, sunshine. That coffee smells wonderful.”

It wasn’t fair he looked so tasty first thing in the morning. Between the perfectly tousled hair, a couple days of scruff, and a sleepy sweet smile on his face, he looked the picture of the sexy, confident, bad boy rock star. He had her all kinds of befuddled. Sex, no sex, kissing, running away. She felt jerked around while he’d made himself right at home.

“Help yourself. There’s eggs and bacon. I assume you can make your own toast? I’m heading out,” she said. She put her plate in the dishwasher, refilled her coffee, and grabbed her toast then headed for the door.

“Whoa, wait a minute. What’s the matter? I’m sensing an arctic chill coming from your direction.”

“Nothing’s the matter. Everything’s fine. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Are you mad at me?”

He fetched a cup of coffee and took a sip, his earnest eyes watching her over the rim. She couldn’t bring herself to discuss the sex and kissing. She had no idea how long he’d be there, but if she took responsibility and put the brakes on all that stuff, she wouldn’t have to worry about it. Besides, he’d said he was trying to remain celibate, so helping him do that would be a good thing.

“I sorted everything we collected last night and I’m irritated at the grocery store. I have a plan that I’m going now to carry out. Alone.”

“Oh no you don’t. I’m going with you. I was there with you last night. I’m invested.”

She sighed and scrubbed her hands down her face in exhausted frustration. “Jaxon.”

“Let me get dressed. I’ll only be a minute. Don’t leave without me.”

He ran out of the kitchen, his bare feet slapping the floor as he hurried away. She headed out the front door to the truck. She’d left it parked in front of the house after having loaded the food from the dumpster she planned to donate, and a little something for the manager of FreshMart. She’d left the rest in the extra fridge and freezer to be cleaned and portioned for later use.

Torn about leaving without Jaxon, she got into the truck and sat there. If she left without him, she’d look childish and petty, and he’d have no idea why. She couldn’t bring herself to hurt him like that, so she waited.

She didn’t have to wait long. He ran out the front door and jumped in the car with her, having thrown on clean clothes, and shoes. Otherwise, he looked exactly the same.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked, half out of breath.

She pulled out of the driveway and headed for town. Jaxon seemed sincere and excited to be going along. If nothing else, she could hope to convert him to the philosophy of food activism while he stayed at the estate. It could be handy to have a celebrity take up the cause. Not that he’d acted like a celebrity since he’d been there. He behaved more like a normal twenty-something.

“We’re taking most of the food we gathered last night to donate different places. Then we’re going back to the grocery store.”

“Okay.”

They dropped food at the Salvation Army shelter, the food pantry, Meals on Wheels, and at Summer’s restaurant. Jaxon smiled and shook hands and hauled heavy bags and boxes at every stop. He jumped in and participated and did whatever she asked. He had no complaints or criticisms, and there was no hint of sexual tension in the air.

All of which left Lily puzzled and frustrated. She couldn’t be happier with his help and how much he seemed to care—nothing he said or did came across as phony or forced. She believed his sincerity. But that kiss and the sex still haunted her. She didn’t flit between men the way he did women. She couldn’t dismiss sex and a kiss as insignificant or superficial, so it irritated her that he could be so fickle, changing on a dime and not giving it another thought.

By the time they reached FreshMart she’d worked herself into a snit.

This time she parked in front of the store. They both got out and while Jaxon walked on light feet, obviously recharged and pleased with the work they’d done so far today, Lily grabbed the one remaining bag in the back of the truck and plodded along behind him. Why did she resent him for being happy about the day? He did exactly what she wanted—participated, learned, absorbed. So why did it annoy her so much?

She overtook him and marched into the store, hauling her garbage bag full of food. She stopped at the first checkout stand where the checker couldn’t have looked more bored if she tried. She swiped a bag of Doritos, a six-pack of Dew, a stick of deodorant. The belt bulged with stuff to be scanned.

“Excuse me,” Lily said.

The checker turned a bleary-eyed stare to her. “Yeah?”

“I need to talk to the manager. Where will I find him? Or her?”

The checker glanced at Lily, then at Jaxon where her gaze lingered. From the expression on her face, she struggled to drag her brain out of wherever it went to avoid the tedium of her job so she could identify this guy who looked familiar. Jaxon stood by politely but said nothing.

When the checker couldn’t summon an identification, and realized Lily wasn’t there to save her from her dreary job, she grabbed a package of chicken wings with one hand, and with the other pointed in the general direction of the back of the store.

Lily wove through the produce department where stockers filled displays with fresh apples, and bagged lettuce. She caught up with one pushing an empty cart toward the back.

“Can you direct me to the manager’s office?” she asked.

The stocker eyeballed her up and down, noticed the heavy garbage bag she had slung over her shoulder, and gave her a skeptical look. “Why?”

“Because I need to talk to him. Or her.”

“Him. Can I tell him what it’s about?”

“No, I’d prefer to chat with him myself.”

“How do I know you don’t have a bomb or something in that bag?” he asked.

Lily struggled to maintain some patience. “Why would I bring a bomb into a grocery store?”

“I don’t know. People do stupid shit for no reason.”

“Fair enough. I promise it’s not a bomb. I just have a few questions for him about some of the products you carry.”

While technically accurate, her explanation may have misled the stocker. He surveyed her again, then glanced at Jaxon who stood like a tall, silent, reassuring sentinel behind her. His presence seemed to satisfy the stocker—as if having a man along lent her legitimacy—which pissed her off. She did
not
need a man in her life to validate her.

Not only did people do stupid shit, apparently they weren’t too sharp, either. She really could be hauling a bomb in the bag, but the guy wouldn’t know until it was too late. Apparently she only needed to bring a charming man along to clear any reservations.

“Go upstairs and turn right,” the checker said. “There’s a door that says ‘Administration.’ His office is in there. First door on the left.”

Jaxon shook the guy’s hand. “Thanks,” he said. The stocker nodded, clearly acknowledging some man bond thing.

Lily made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat as she climbed the poorly-lit stairs. On the landing at the top, she glanced left into a shabby-looking break room where several people in store uniforms sat around an institutional-type table eating lunch and staring at a twelve-inch TV watching The Price is Right. They did nothing to upgrade Lily’s assessment of the staff’s collective sharpness.

Following the stocker’s directions, she turned right and discovered the administration office. Inside, a large reception desk commanded the front of the suite, and sure enough, a door opened off to the left.

Lily bypassed the reception desk, not even making eye contact with the woman sitting behind it, and marched straight to the office, Jaxon still tagging along behind. The door had a slide-in placard that said “Larry Barton” above a permanently stenciled “Store Manager.”

When she stepped inside the generous space, a middle-aged man with gray-blond helmet-hair glanced up at her and did a double take, his eyes focusing first on Jaxon—which pissed her off again—then briefly on her face, then at the big bag she carried, then back to her face. After a moment, he turned his attention to Jaxon, his expression somewhere between confusion and polite interest.

“How can I help you?” He addressed the question to Jaxon, ignoring her.

Lily struggled to tamp her fury down to a seething simmer. “Hi Larry,” she said. “You’re the store manager, right?”

“Yes,” he said, finally addressing her, though by the reluctance on his face he didn’t want to. He glanced at Jaxon with a ‘why are you allowing this’ look on his face. Lily turned to glare at Jaxon, who just shrugged. When she returned her attention to Larry he looked uncomfortable and confused. He cleared his throat and said, to her, “What can I do for you?”

“I’m glad you asked.” She didn’t actually think he’d be too glad. Stepping forward, she swung the bag off her shoulder and thumped it on his desk. “Can you tell me what your food waste policy is?”

He blinked a couple of times while his lips flapped for an answer. She’d obviously stumped him.

“While you try to summon the information, let me show you what’s in the bag.”

Going in, she’d just planned to open the bag and let him peer inside. But she’d awakened on the wrong side of the bed, and her undefined relationship with Jaxon along with his ambiguous behavior toward her, and the dismissal from the checker and manager had combined with her anger at the store’s excessive food waste to unleash her outrage and maybe push her to act against reason.

Grabbing a letter opener from the pen holder on the desk, she stabbed the side of the bag and sliced all the way down, lacerating a giant hole in the plastic.

Larry found his voice. “What are you doing?” It came out as a high-pitched, sputtered squeak of disbelief.

Jaxon managed a much calmer, “Lily?”

Upending the bag onto Larry’s desk, she explained as packages of meat and fruit, cartons of eggs, bags of bread, and even a couple of cakes poured into a heap on top of whatever Larry had been working on. “This is a small sample of food we dug out of your dumpsters last night,” she said, jiggling the bag in question one last time to be sure she’d emptied, before wadding it into a ball and dropping it on top of the pile. “If you look at the expiration dates, every single thing in this bag has yet to expire. Or, in the case of this bag of oranges, for instance—one orange has a bruised squishy spot, but the rest are still just fine. Your produce people threw away eleven good oranges because of one bad one.”

Larry jumped out of his chair to avoid food falling into his lap. “Are you fucking crazy?”

Lily expelled an exasperated sigh. “There are a lot of hungry people in Houston, Larry. In the world, for that matter. People who would be glad to have those eleven oranges.”

Larry had recovered himself to the point where he’d gone from shocked and speechless, to purple in the face with rage. “Then they should have come into the store and bought them,” he said, leaning over the mountain of food to tower over Lily’s petite form. His nostrils flared, his lips thinned to an angry line. But Lily squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She refused to be intimidated.

“What’s your food waste policy?” she asked.

Larry drew a deep breath as he reached for the phone and poked some buttons. “I’ve seen some crazy shit, but this is too much.”

“You’re throwing away perfectly good food. Why would you do that? Half of all food in America is wasted.” Lily worried Larry might blow an artery. “That’s like seventy
billion
pounds a year.” Somewhere in her imagination, Larry reminded her of a cartoon character. She expected those big train whistles to pop out of his ears at any moment, blaring his rage and clouds of steam. “And your store is contributing to that. If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem, Larry.”

Larry didn’t seem to register anything she’d said.

“Who are you calling?” Jaxon asked, as if only curious.

“The cops. Who do you think? Your crazy girlfriend here needs to be arrested.”

“I’m
not
his girlfriend,” Lily said. Larry ignored her.

Jaxon produced one of those charming rock star smiles, complete with dimples, and stepped out from behind Lily. At the desk he pushed down on the phone lever, hanging up on Larry’s call. “That’s not necessary.”

Larry scowled at Jaxon, reassessing him. “I think it is.”

“Do you know who I am?”

Larry looked suspicious, but studied Jaxon closer. Just like the checker, recognition floated just out of grasp, but he seemed to think he
should
know who Jaxon was. “No.”

Jaxon offered his hand. “Jaxon Caine, of the band Raising Caine. We’re based right here in Houston, but we’ve been pretty busy recently touring the country with our Grammy-winning album.”