Love Me: The Complete Series (34 page)

Across the room, Jackson untangled the woman’s hand from his shirt and shoved his way from the booth. He strode to the bar, empty glass in hand, and ordered a drink, then dropped to a bar stool and continued to watch the game.

Darlene adjusted her navy business suit over her shoulders. While not the tallest person, she still had a nice look that men noticed. Or at least the guy at the table behind them had when she smoothed the tight skirt down her ass. Darlene grabbed Amanda’s forearm and pulled her toward the bar. “Introduce me, blondie.”

“You already met him, you don’t need me for—Jackson, you remember Darlene, one of our partners?”

Jackson peered over a shoulder with a beer bottle to his lips. “You look a little different in clothes.”

Darlene’s face went crimson. Was she searching for an exit? Two seconds passed, then she extended a manicured hand. “So you have a law degree, too? What’s your specialty?”

Jackson slid to face them on his stool, his lanky legs almost touching Amanda’s knee. “Yeah. Amanda didn’t tell you? We went to school together, studied together for the bar. Spent a lot of late nights over law journals, beer, and chips. Then when she graduated, we both ended up at my dad’s firm. Me, because I had no choice. Her, because I told her to apply if she couldn’t find anything else. Jobs were tough for new grads. We worked together on a couple of contract things. Didn’t we, Mandy?”

Darlene crooked a brow. “Mandy? He calls you that? So you and Jackson—?”

Amanda huffed. “No, Jackson and I didn’t … weren’t … Don’t call me Mandy, Jax. You know I hate nicknames.”

“Like Jax. Right. Yeah, you’re too big-time for that, aren’t you? You with your designer suits and silk shirts.”

“Blouses.”

“Does it matter?” He stood abruptly, beer in hand, and his fingers nearly grazed the silk he’d insulted. Amanda sucked in a breath. She should step back and give him room, but—God, he smelled good. She’d missed that.

Darlene shrugged. “I can see you two have things to talk about. Nice to meet you, Jackson. I guess I’ll see you again soon.”

Amanda retreated a step, ready to follow Darlene.

“There you go again. Running away without a word. No goodbye, no ‘kiss my ass,’ not even a ‘have a nice life.’ Just rip a guy’s heart out and dance off to your next victim. Do me a favor and don’t be quite as harsh with Carter. He’s been through a lot and doesn’t need your shit.” Jackson lifted his beer to his lips and drew in another sip. They were spatting like a couple of high schoolers.

“I wasn’t running, and I didn’t rip anyone’s heart out. That’s ridiculous. I doubt anyone missed me at all.” Okay, maybe she had run but it wasn’t like she’d had a choice at the time. Her supervisor had made it very clear she wasn’t wanted and would be terminated if she stayed. No hearts involved—not even close.

“You think not?” Jackson swallowed the last of his beer, thunked the bottle on the bar, and strolled back toward Carter.

What the hell did that mean? He missed her? No way, they’d only been friends in college and coworkers for a brief moment. Nothing else. They’d laughed and had a few drinks after work but not once had they ever—

Okay, maybe once. Her thoughts went back to the day she’d passed the bar exam. The memory still brought warmth to her girly parts. They’d only kissed out of celebration and as much as she’d enjoyed it, it never happened again. Not once in the months they worked together. While she’d thought it amazing and slightly life-altering, obviously his perception was different—something he didn’t want to repeat.

Carter beckoned her to join him, and Amanda worked herself back into the booth between the two gorgeous men, making every woman in the place envious. All she wanted to do was run but she managed to drink another drink and keep up with the small talk for almost two hours.

When she yawned, Carter ran a hand across her shoulders. Oddly, it was warm, nice, and void of the reaction that made her stomach tighten. The type of reaction that just came from Jackson’s hand falling against her thigh.
Oh no.

“Carter, mind if I take off for the night? I have a deposition early tomorrow and need a little prep time.” She gave her best try at puppy dog eyes, hoping he wouldn’t get mad that she needed to ditch.

“Really? It can’t wait?”

“It can but I’ll just have to stay up super late and I was—”

Carter held up a hand. “Okay, okay. Go ahead. I don’t want you to pull an all-nighter because of me. I’ll walk you out.”

Amanda put a hand to his chest and clutched his shirt, then pulled his mouth to hers for a short kiss. “No need. Have fun with the guys. I’ll be fine. Oh, and congratulations on getting to take the lead on your project. You deserve it.”

She slung her purse over a shoulder and left the bar, thankful to get away from the crowd, noise, and fake smiles. The landing around the elevator was deathly silent. Periodic dings and lights signaled a long wait before one of the door sets would open. She swayed from foot to foot, ticking off a mental list of things she needed to research and use as discussion points in the deposition tomorrow.

Ding.

The doors opened and she joined the two men already in the elevator. Another person charged in behind just before the doors closed. She pulled a notepad from her purse and jotted down the list she’d ruminated over so she could tackle it when she arrived home.

“Is Carter on that list?”

Huh? Was she going to be haunted by that voice again? She jerked her gaze from her list to—Jackson. He was the person who had rushed into the elevator at the last minute. “Are you following me?”

“You’re still making lists.”

“Okay, you caught me. I like to write things down. Big deal.”

Ding.

The doors opened and one of the men with them exited.

“Show me.” Jackson reached for her purse.

Seriously? No way. “A woman’s purse is sacred, you don’t … hey!”

He wrenched the strap from her arm and parted the snap to peer within. She wanted to slap the grin from his ruddy cheeks.

Ding.

The doors opened and the other man with them took a step forward, held a hand to the door, then stopped. “Are you okay, ma’am? Do you need help?”

That was nice. The stranger wanted to protect her—or at least her purse—from Jackson. Did she need help? No—she could handle Jackson in her sleep. Uh oh. The image that flitted across her legal brain was totally inappropriate.

“I’m fine, but thanks for asking.”

The man still didn’t exit, and the buzzer started to hum. “He’s not bothering you?”

Should she answer that honestly? Amanda hesitated. “No, he’s just being his normal pain-in-the-ass big brother self. We’re fine.”

The man shot a look between them, then stepped away. Okay, no one would believe they were related, but how else was she supposed to explain Jackson’s annoying hovering?

Amanda stomped a foot and reached for the bag. “Knock it off. Give me my purse.”

Jackson lifted it higher. “Make me.”

“Make you? What are we, ten? This isn’t the school playground, Jax, and I’m not the little cheerleader you want to coax out of her pleated skirt. I don’t play kiddie games anymore.
Give. Me. My. Purse.
” He had always liked to tease. It drove her crazy.

The whoosh of his cologne enveloped her as he stepped forward, his chest almost touching hers.
Oh God.
Was he really taunting her? Daring her to wrestle him to the ground just to get her bag? Well, fine. Two could play that game. Only she could play a lot dirtier now.
I’ll show you exactly what you missed when you sent me packing—you and your big-shot family.

Amanda twisted his shirt between her fingers and yanked. Thud. Their chests melded and she put her mouth against his and gave him a kiss. The kiss-to-end-all-games. He couldn’t escape the death-grip on his shirt so she adjusted her mouth and flitted her tongue across the crease of his.
That’ll teach you to mess with me.

Clink. Her purse hit the floor of the elevator as Jackson raised his hands and slid them around her neck. Amanda tried to back up but he palmed the sides of her head and held firm. His breath toasted her cheeks as he spoke. “Okay, I won’t play kiddie games either. Just remember you started it.”

Jackson put his mouth solidly against hers and rained kisses across her lips, her cheeks, and then down her neck. Mmmm. Wow. He pressed his entire length against her and she fell backward. Thank God the wall was there or she would have been horizontal in a second. She loosened her grip on his shirt and strung her fingers into his hair.

Ding.

The doors slid open.

I saw her first.
The words waltzed through Jackson’s head. So juvenile. Carter would probably want to kill him. How would he explain?

Amanda’s fingers massaged his scalp as she responded to the kiss. God, she was amazing. They’d kissed once a long time ago and he remembered it as nice, but this? This wasn’t nice; it was fricking angry. Savage. And sexy as hell.

He lowered a hand to her waist and pulled tight. There wasn’t an inch of air between them, yet he wanted to close the gap. The gap that had been shoved in his heart a year and a half earlier when she disappeared.

The elevator doors slid closed and he punched the red stop button. He wasn’t going to deal with her disappearing act again. Nope, time to lay his cards on the table.

“Is it paranoid to think I’m being punished for something?” He waited while she slowly opened her eyes. He liked the haze that proved the kiss hadn’t turned out as intended.

“You can’t dig in a woman’s purse and—”

“This has nothing to do with your purse and you know it. You’re angry with me for something. Since we haven’t seen each other in two years, I’m lost here.”

“It hasn’t been two years, and does it matter? I’m dating Carter and according to him, you’re dating half the city.”

Thanks, Carter. Make me sound like a whore-chaser.

Jackson pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m not officially dating anyone. You’re dating him but you just kissed the shit out of me. I’d say you’re not all that vested in my friend and I don’t know whether to celebrate or clobber you.”

The alarm on the elevator blared and Jackson hit the button again. The doors slid open. He doubted he would ever consider an elevator boring again after this encounter. He could still feel the warmth of her leg as she’d wrapped it around his thigh.

Amanda was holy-hell hot and kissed like no one he’d ever known—and she was dating his best friend.

Shit.

She scooped her purse from the floor and stepped away. “Well, Jackson, one thing about you, you never were very good at reading people. You haven’t got a clue who I’m vested in—and that kiss? It was just a means to an end.”

She slung her purse over her shoulder, patted the tooled leather, and grinned. “See?”

That was all about the damn purse? Her ass swayed nicely when she walked away, the clip-clop of her heels echoing on the tile floor. Like a hammer to his heart.

The doors began to close and he jutted out a hand, then slipped from the elevator to head toward the door. The expanse of the lobby was meant to impress. With pelting rain outside the thirty-foot glass windows and gleaming steel structural beams at regular intervals, it was simply austere. Cold.

Amanda stood under the door awning. Jackson strode toward the security desk and grabbed an umbrella from below the counter, then joined her. Outside, he inhaled the smell of rain on concrete. It was oddly comforting.

He pulled Amanda underneath the umbrella. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car. As much as you admire that purse, I doubt it’ll keep you dry in this downpour. Where’d you park?”

She pointed down the block and drips fell to her wrist as her hand extended beyond their tiny tent of dryness. “The garage on the next block, but I can walk. I’ll just wait until it lets up.”

Jackson grabbed her bag, tossed it over his shoulder, and scooped her closer. “You’ll be soaked if you do. Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not letting you walk that far in this. It’s wet and dark. Let’s go.” Without waiting for an answer, he dragged her along.

Water splatted below her heels. Hmm. Her feet would get soaked anyway, judging by the shoes. Open toed, strapped across her ankle. The umbrella kept all but their legs dry, which was better than nothing. Amanda didn’t protest and after walking twenty steps or so, he felt her tremble.

“You’re cold.”

She nodded. “A little.”

Jackson pulled her tighter and rubbed along her arm. Her suit jacket was almost as thin as her silk shirt. It was damp to boot and clinging to every inch of her. It took willpower not to stare at the way the moist cloth under the jacket clung to the curve of her breasts and accentuated the roundness. Yes, she was definitely cold. He rubbed faster.

His phone summoned from the depth of his pocket. He ignored it for two reasons: one being it was too wet to extract it, and the other being that both his hands were preoccupied.

“D-d-do you n-n-need to get that?”

“Later. Besides, I only have two hands.”

“W-w-want me to get it for you?”

Wouldn’t that be interesting? “You’re offering to dig in my pocket for me? I like the sound of that.” As if agreeing, his phone blurted again. “Go for it.”

Amanda peered up, her nose nearly touching his cheek. “Um, never mind.”

Jackson snickered. They plodded across the abandoned street, their feet burrowing through puddles. When they reached the other side they turned together toward the garage and moved in unison to the entrance. Once inside, he reluctantly removed his arm from her side and closed the umbrella. He shook the water out.

“Thanks for the help.” She continued toward a stairwell.

“I’ll walk you the rest of the way. Which level?”

“No need, it’s right above us.”

It was late, dark, and wet. A movement in the corner of the garage caught his attention. No surprise. The homeless had to seek refuge from the rain. Where better than an open garage? “Shut up, Amanda. I’m walking you. Take the elevator.” He steered her toward the doors and pressed the button. The doors opened instantly. Before she could protest, he shoved her inside.