Jaxson's Song (17 page)

“
Or what?” he challenged.

“
Or…” Kate paused, her anger momentarily frozen. Or what? A
frown marred her face as she opened her mouth, only to promptly
snapped it shut again. She was a pitiful novice at insults—and
threats—and was horrified when she drew a complete and total blank
at Jaxson’s taunting. But then he gave her another one of those
blood-pressure raising, sardonic smirks, and a thousand retorts
flooded her mind and jockeyed for top position. “Or…shut up,” she
stammered, suddenly overwhelmed. She went to duck beneath his arms,
and he swiftly shifted his stance to block her.

One of his hands came up
to stop her from moving, and she sucked in her breath as his
fingers, solid and hot, circled most of her upper arm.

“
Where were you last night?” he demanded, green eyes
flashing.

She’d never been more
tempted in her life to tell somebody “none of your business,” and
she would have, except…it wasn’t cocky arrogance snapping like
lightning in Jaxon’s gaze. It was fear; a cross between pissed off
and desperate. She knew that look. It was the same one she’d seen
in the mirror the one and only time Lilly had come home four hours
late without a phone call. Seeing it reflected in Jaxson’s eyes was
like a cold, wet shock to her senses.

The muscles in her biceps
and forearms relaxed; his remained rigid. “I stayed home… Why are
you asking?”
she asked, eying him
suspiciously.

“
Were you alone?”

Her eyes widened, and she
inhaled his clean, soapy pine scent. A drop of water slid down one
side of Jaxson’s face, and her gaze tracked its path down the
strong, tan column of his throat. “Was I alone? You have
got
to be kidding
me. That is none of your business. Do you disagree?” she
challenged.

“
Yeah, I do.” He frowned, leaning forward even farther, the
heat from his body in direct contrast to the cold fabric that
brushed Kate’s arms and torso.

Move. Back
up
…
Breathe
. “Well, you’re wrong.”
She swallowed, her headache a dull, all-but-forgotten ache at the
base of her skull. Jaxson’s chest rose and fell, and once again she
caught the hint of pine.

“
Kate.” She stiffened the instant his forehead touched hers.
“I knocked on your door last night. Hell, I pounded on the damn
thing. Where were you?”

“
You…why?” she breathed. “What happened?” This time she did
lean back, suddenly desperate to put some space between their
bodies. He was too close, and she was still mad at him,
about…something.

“
You tell me,” he insisted.

His fingers skimmed her
temple, and she held her breath, then let it out in a silent
whoosh
as he
pulled her sunglasses off and carelessly tossed them onto the grass
beside the porch. One finger beneath her chin brought her gaze
swinging up to meet his intense stare. The world rushed at her, all
too bright, vivid color splashing onto her corneas and
kick-starting the pain in her head into a roar. “Damn it, don’t!”
she moaned, abruptly releasing her now-tenuous hold on the porch
rail in order to shield her eyes.

“
Well, that’s one mystery solved.” His lips thinned into a
grim line.

“
What?” Kate demanded, jerking her chin away from the coarse
pad of his finger and squinting up at him.

“
You were three sheets to the wind last night. That’s why you
didn’t hear me banging on the door.”

“
Excuse me, but I don’t get drunk,” she retorted, doing her
best to sound haughty. She tossed her hair behind one shoulder, and
pitched forward when the movement threw her off balance. Her
humiliation knew no bounds when Jaxson’s arms shot up to steady
her. “I think I’m going to throw up,” she moaned into the wet
fabric at his chest.

Jaxson’s chest lifted and
fell, his breath feathering the hair at her temple as he exhaled.
She squeezed her eyes shut tight, shivers skimming along her nerve
endings at his strong fingers flexing around her
shoulders.

“
Yeah. Give it up Kate; you’re hungover.”

“
Fine,” she hissed through gritted teeth, “I’m hungover. Now
would you please—” she gulped “—give me back my sunglasses…” She
bit back another groan and fisted her hands in his shirt. “Jaxson,
I’m seriously going to be sick. I need my sunglasses,” she moaned.
It galled her beyond measure to ask, but right then just
thinking
about
things like walking, and bending over, made her stomach heave in
protest.

“
Uh, Kate…”

“
Yeah?”

“
You have to let go.”

Her eyes fluttered open
and she grimaced, staring up at him, confused.

“
My shirt. You’re still holding on to it,” he pointed out, a
half smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

“
Oh…right.” She released him, turning to cling to the stair
rail as he backed up a few paces and twisted around to pluck the
darkly tinted glasses off of the lawn. “Thank you,” she mumbled a
moment later, taking the shades from his outstretched hand and
hastily shoving them into place over her stinging eyes. Taking
shallow sips of the humid air that swirled around them helped, and
she clutched harder at the smooth white rail, willing herself to
resist temptation and not embarrass herself further by plunking her
rear end onto the porch step where she stood. But oh she wanted to
sit down! Instead, she focused on her neighbor, bits and pieces of
their conversation filtering through her—thankfully now
receding—nausea.

“
Wait…why were you banging on my door last night? And
when—what time?” She blinked rapidly behind the protective dark
tint of her lenses to bring Jaxson into focus, and slowly her grip
on the rail eased until only one hand rested there.

“
Late.” He shrugged. “After nine, at least. I…” he trailed
off, his gaze bouncing everywhere but at her. One large, tanned
hand gripped the back of his neck and rubbed. “I wanted to borrow
some sugar,” he finally admitted, grudgingly, as if it galled him
to say it.

Kate brought her fingers
to her mouth, but the giggle burst forth anyway. His gaze swung
back to her face, emerald-green eyes narrowing. “You can’t be
serious,” she argued, tamping down her mirth in the face of his
irritation. Why he was suddenly defensive was beyond her at the
moment.

“
What happened last night?” he demanded, coming back full
circle to his original line of questioning, before he’d snatched
her sunglasses and she’d almost thrown up all over his half-dead
petunias.

Kate’s senses went on
full-alert. “What makes you think anything happened last
night?”

Before Jaxson could
answer, a dark blue sedan turned the corner and slowed to a stop in
front of the house.

Chapter
Sixteen

Too Late

“
S
on
of a
bitch!”

She watched Jaxson’s face
contort with anger, noted the way the muscles in his arms bunched
until the rigid cords were practically straining the fabric of his
shirt. In an instant he was on her. His hands traded the porch
rails on either side of her for her upper arms, and Kate winced as
his fingers dug into her flesh. He shoved her backward, and she
nearly lost her footing as the back of her calves hit the steps.
Her hands shot up to clutch at his still-tensed biceps in an effort
to steady herself.

“
Move. Now.” He practically growled the words.

“
What the—” she began to protest, then abruptly closed her
mouth.

Beneath the Doris Day
makeup and the Brooklyn swagger, his eyes were wild and
savage—almost desperate, Kate realized. She glanced over his damp
shoulder in time to see the darkly tinted window of the blue sedan
glide up in its casing, but not before she caught a glimpse of
smooth white skin and dark brown hair. Jaxson swore, and shifted to
his right, blocking her as the car pulled smoothly away from the
curb and disappeared around the corner. Across the lawn, a series
of sharp cracking sounds brought both her and Jaxson up
short.

Kate paused, and Jaxson
froze, their gazes suddenly riveted first on each other and then on
the second story of Kate’s house—the window. The glass tinkered
audibly as thick, vein-like cracks began to spiderweb the entire
window, from the center to the outer edges. She gasped and
instinctively ducked when the window suddenly shattered, fine
shards of glass plummeting to the lawn below. A few of the larger
pieces caught the intense light from the early-morning sun and
seemed to sparkle in blatant mockery to the severity of the
situation. Kate’s gaze snapped back up to the dark hole where the
window pane had been only moments ago. Behind the sheer curtains
that fluttered openly in the breeze now, a shadow moved.

“
Jaxson…” Kate breathed.

“
Go.” He nudged her, all urgency gone now, up the porch steps
again, toward his own front door. “Get in the house,” he ordered
grimly, and this time, she followed without question.

Jaxson held the door open
with one hand and ushered her in with the other. Not that she
needed prompting, she thought, almost numb with shock now. She
strode over the threshold and slid onto a bar stool when she
reached the countertop that separated the kitchen and small dining
room. Palms flat on the Formica, she raised her eyes to Jaxson, who
was still standing next to the partially open door. He reached out
a hand as if to close it, but then let his hand drop to his side.
He cursed viciously and kicked the door shut, rattling the wood in
the frame, then leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the
sheer curtains that covered the glass.

Kate cringed and took a
deep breath. “Did you
see
that?” she finally demanded when she could no
longer stand the silence.

“
Yeah,” Jaxson muttered, head bowed now, both arms coming to
rest on the doorframe. “I saw her.”

Kate drew in a lungful of
air that was suddenly much too thin. Ten seconds later, she
exhaled, the sound of her own breath unnaturally loud in the tense,
artificial silence that stretched between them. The ticking of the
clock kept time with her heartbeat for nearly a full minute before
she relaxed her grip on the counter’s edge and eyed her neighbor.
“Did you just say you saw
her
?” she stammered, willing him
to turn around and face her, because he was
wrong
, he had to be wrong, he
had to—

“
Yeah.”

“
B-but, the person in the navy blue car looked like a man,”
she protested, sliding her hands closer to her chest.

Jaxson’s shoulders
hunched, becoming even more wound up and rigid, if that were even
possible. “It was. But I wasn’t talking about the man in the car. I
saw
her
,
Kate. The ghost that just shattered your bedroom
window.”

* * *

Kate paled visibly, and
Jaxson hung his head and cursed. That was probably screwed up—that
he’d just blurted it out like that. If the look on her face was
anything to go by, he probably should have taken his time, broken
the news to her…gently. He frowned, flexing his biceps again and
feeling the muscles strain against the fabric of his shirt. Fuck.
Was there a “gentle” way to tell a woman that her house was
haunted? Grimly he eyed his shell-shocked, hungover neighbor. Her
wide-eyed gaze remained fixed on him, and he forced himself to let
his arms drop to his sides, dimly hoping the expression on his face
wasn’t as fierce as he felt. The last thing he needed to do was
scare Kate any more than she clearly already was. The last thing in
the world he
wanted
to do was scare her.

He dropped onto the stool
beside hers and felt his jaw tighten when she wouldn’t even look at
him. Her half-vacant, half-horrified stare remained fixed to the
spot near the door, where he had just been standing.

“
Katie…” Gently, he turned her stool around in a semi-circle,
until she was facing him. He scooted forward on his own stool,
leaning up a bit in order to hike up his skirt so he could move
freely. Bare ass perched on the end of the stool, Jaxson framed
Kate’s legs with his own, effectively hemming her in. His balls
escaped the barely-there, jeweled thong he’d had the misfortune to
put on that morning, and he cringed, but otherwise ignored the
discomfort, focusing instead on Kate.

He moved his fingers up
over her smooth, strong, tanned throat, sliding his thumbs upward
until her face was framed between his hands. “Hey,” he said,
stroking the pads of his thumbs over her soft skin and doing his
best to ignore the way her breath hitched at his touch. His own
breathing sped up as he tilted her face to meet his steady gaze.
She blinked and exhaled noisily, her hands coming up to rest on his
forearms as she focused on him.