Love Me: The Complete Series (38 page)

“Says who? That’s my first catch.”

“It’s not big enough for a trophy. In my family, if you’re gonna eat it you have to
clean it
. You know, cut it open and scoop out the guts, then cut into filets. Frankly I can’t see you elbows deep in fish guts. Besides, don’t you want to let him have his own moment?” He pulled out his fish de-hooker.

“It’s a fish.”

With a single movement he set the little bugger free. “Yeah, but even fish have family and want to belong. I bet if he could talk, he’d probably say the only reason he was going for your bait was because he wanted to brag about it when he got home. He probably has a little school of baby fish somewhere that needs feeding. You know what they say, family is everything.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, pulleeeze.”

Okay, that was a stretch, and probably the dumbest thing he’d ever said. The look on her face said she thought so as well.

“Who are you and what happened to the guy I knew in college?”

They caught two more fish, one larger and one smaller, then headed back to the city. Amanda didn’t ask about rhythm or Carter, nor complain about fish bait or flies. All in all, he was pleased with himself for showing her a small piece of his world. Admittedly he’d represented it as Carter’s world but they’d both enjoyed this place many times.

Once he’d packed the car and bounced them back to the main road, she started humming to the radio.

“You suck as a matchmaker, Jax.”

That was true, not that he cared. “Maybe so but don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that because you’d be lying.”

“I can enjoy just about anything if I force myself.”

He knew better. “So you want me to believe you forced yourself to kick your shoes off and tilt your head back. Your toes tapped to the music unwillingly and your mind was totally focused on work—or Carter.”

She stared straight out the window, ignoring him as he willed her to turn his way. Her breath made a tiny oval on the window. “That’s right.”

They rode in silence until he was a block from the coffee shop where they’d started the day. He found a parking spot street-side and maneuvered the Jeep between a pickup and a minivan. He turned his stereo to club music and stepped out of the vehicle. Rounding to her side, he pulled open the door and held out a hand.

“Show me your stuff.”

She stared. “What stuff?”

“He’s taking you dancing, right? Let’s see you dance.”

She glanced up and down the sidewalk, obviously hoping no one would see them.

He flipped his wrist and beckoned her to take his hand. “Come on. Music’s playing, we’re all by ourselves, this concrete works as a dance floor. Get your ass out here.”

“I’m not going to dance right here on the side of a street in downtown. That’s dumb.”

“Come on, show me your stuff, kiddo.”

Amanda huffed. “Don’t call me—”

“Kiddo. Got it. Let’s dance.”

Amanda’s neck bulged as she swallowed. “Here? Now?”

“Of course. There’s no one around. It’s not like you’re going to be seen. Dancing is a great way to reel a guy in—or turn him off, depending on what you do. If you’re good, it can lead straight to the bedroom.”

“Puleeze.”

“What? Too honest for you? Come on, this is a great song. Let’s move.” He yanked her against him. A huge mistake because her shirt was thin and so soft he wanted to squeeze the cloth between his fingers—or rip it off. Crap.

Amanda started to move her hips, slowly. He was helpless to do anything but hold her and stare. Then she thrust an arm out, grazing his jaw with her fist. The next thing he knew she was riding him and punching the air like a female Ali. What the hell? “No. No, no. Stop that. Come on. You’re a damn attorney, for Christ’s sake. Attorneys don’t thrust their hands like a boxer and hump men on the dance floor.”

Amanda’s eyes popped—not exactly her best look. She dropped a hand to her hip and moved her head left then right. “Oh, so
now
I get to be an attorney? Since when was there a classification for dancing that had anything to do with one’s profession? I thought good dancing was simply … good dancing.”

“You call that good? I call it trashy. No one really does that twerk thing anymore, do they? I mean it’d be great if you were just looking to get laid, but if you plan to keep him around for a while and build a relationship, that’s probably not what he’s expecting. Knowing Carter, it’ll embarrass him. Hell, it would embarrass me and that’s almost impossible.”

She was pissed. Her face flushed and there was a slight tick at the corner of her mouth, so slight he wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t have her against him. He could almost imagine lightning bolts coming out of her eyes. Amanda stilled and the music took on the feeling of pending doom. “For your information, that wasn’t twerking. Besides, it’s pretty hypocritical of you to call my dancing trashy or to comment about getting laid. I remember enough about you in college and work to know you’re the king of short-term things—as in, so short it doesn’t exist.” Amanda lifted the fist from her hip and pinched her fingers together to signify size.

He wanted to laugh but was afraid she’d belt him. “You’re really gonna do the small-penis thing? Seriously? How would you know?” He grabbed her hand and placed it on his shoulder, then began swaying to the music. “Two steps to the right, one to the left. That’s all you need to do. Enough to show you have rhythm but not so much that he can’t talk to you. You’re trying to build a connection, not an erection. What exactly do you remember about college, Mandy, because all I remember is studying my ass off all the time. With you—and we both know that went nowhere.”

“You should have just installed a revolving door on your room. There were too many girls coming and going to count. As I recall, the trashier the better. None that lasted though, so I don’t really consider you a good resource for relationship advice.”

Jackson dipped her backward, then lifted her until their noses almost touched. “You sound jealous. What’s wrong, you didn’t get enough when younger so you’re mad at me because I did?”

To be honest, he hadn’t really noticed whether she dated or not. Back then he was just having fun. Studying with Amanda had been a necessity to get him through law school. It wasn’t until they neared the end of the year that he noticed—everything about her.

He felt her shaking in his arms then the most unexpected noise came from her throat. She
growled
and stomped her foot. “That’s it. We’re done. I don’t need your help. Carter can go jump off a cliff if what he’s looking for is anything at all like, like,
you.
”

She yanked free and started for the door. He’d gone too far. Maybe it wasn’t about her being jealous. Maybe the truth was staring him in the face.
He
was the jealous one. “Wait, don’t go. I’m sorry … I was just messing with you. Let’s just finish the dance, okay? I’ll be quiet.”

The music slowed and he pulled her in. She fought, a halfhearted attempt to put distance between them, before relaxing against his chest. An overwhelming feeling hit him the moment her cheek’s warmth seeped through his shirt. An odd yet comforting serenity that equaled the contented warmth of their fishing trip. This felt right. He closed his eyes and lowered his head to bury his nose in the softness of her hair. God, she smelled good.
That
he remembered.

He had no idea when the music stopped and a commercial replaced the beat. When he finally pulled his head sleepily from hers, dread hit him hard. Why in hell was he fixing Amanda up with Carter?
You’re so amazing, Amanda.

“Thanks. That was nice coming from you.”

Huh? Wait, he’d actually said that out loud? Holy crap. How do you follow up something like that?

“So, why’d you run away last year?”

Amanda wasn’t prepared for his question. He’d asked it before, but she’d been in a fighting mood then. Now? How could he ask such a thing? It was like rubbing salt into an open wound. He
knew
why she’d left. Hell, he’d recommended it, according to David. Nope, she wasn’t up for a fight at the moment. Not when his arms were around her and she struggled to hold herself together. “Awww, big-bad-man-whore Jackson, you missed me. Now
that’s
amazing. It wasn’t like I had a choice to leave, you know. Was I the one who got away?”

She patted his cheek in her most patronizing way.

Jackson’s cell phone jolted into action in his pocket. Amanda giggled. They were so close the vibration against her mid-section tickled. “Actually, yes.” He let it ring again before dropping his hand from her waist and answering the device.

Actually, yes, what? He missed her? She was the one who’d eluded his man-talent? Or was he saying there really
had
been a choice? Was that the best answer she’d get? She shook her head and reached for her purse.

“I’m busy. I’ll call you back,” Jackson blurted before clicking his phone off and striding to her side. “I think you’re good to go on the dancing part but let’s talk a little on the way back about Carter. Or us, or what happened that made you bolt out of the office like a bat out of hell.”

“There is no us, Jax. Don’t you have a phone call you need to make?”

• • •

Jackson didn’t give a flying flip about work at the moment, nor did he care about Carter and helping Amanda snag him. He cared about one thing and only one thing—he just couldn’t get his arms around what it was.

Watching her stomp off in a tizzy wasn’t it. So he strode after like he’d done half a dozen times in the last couple of days. Maybe all he hoped for was an explanation. Why
had
she left?

With the worn-out sneakers, Amanda could clip along much faster than in the heels she sported last night. He picked up his pace and gained some ground. Just before the street corner, she whirled and thrust a finger in his face. “This is
not
one of your stupid games, Jax. He’s a nice person. He treats me like a queen, not like a back-alley hooker, which is probably more your style. I don’t know why I bothered to come here this morning. There’s nothing you can tell or show me.”

“Treats you like a queen, huh? How so?”

“We go out for nice dinners, we spend time together, we … we … chat back and forth during the day when we don’t see each other for a while.”

“How often is that? Seeing each other, I mean.” He was curious.

“I don’t know. A couple times a week, maybe. Does it matter? The point here is … Carter isn’t always staring at my boobs, or the skin on my shoulder, or my ass. He’s not that kind of guy.” A car whizzed by and they both gazed after it until it rounded a corner on the next block.

“Amanda, I hate to burst your bubble, but
every
guy is that kind of guy. Carter included. If he hasn’t thought about getting you into bed at least half a dozen times when you’re together, then he’s planning a way to dump you.”

She pursed her lips and the act sent a pain straight through him. Visions of the elevator kiss fogged his brain. She growled and threw her hands in the air then turned away. The rubber of her shoe soles squeaked on the concrete. She rotated back to him and crossed her arms. “Okay, let me get this straight so we can end this little tutoring session you think I desperately need. You want me to dress as sexy and provocative as possible, dance with my chest pressed against him but don’t get too into it as that’s over the top, make him think I
need
him somehow, and … oh, let’s not forget … have sex with him. But if the list is too long, I can just go straight to the last part. Is that right?”

Whoa, wait a minute.
“I didn’t say have sex with him.”

“Oh yes, you did. Men are simple, right? They have only a few basic needs and that’s one of them.”

“Yeah, but … isn’t it a little soon?”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “You say that like you think we haven’t already.”

“Uh, I, have you?” Hell. He did
not
want to hear that.

“For your information, I am not the complete loser with guys that you seem to think. Carter and I get along great. In fact, I’m pretty damn good at a few things which I’m not talking about with you—things he seems to find very, very interesting.”

“Oh, really? Let’s hear about them.” That sounded like she was sidestepping the question.

His phone chirped into action again but he ignored it. When it continued to ring, he pulled it from his pocket and switched it to silent mode.

“I
said
I wasn’t talking about them with you. Someone really wants to talk to you, Jackson. You should probably take that.”

“Not now. Come on, Amanda. Spill.” For some stupid, self-serving reason he needed to know what she saw in his friend. Or for that matter, what he saw in her. Sure, they were alike but how boring was that? Jackson thought for a minute. Who was he kidding? What he really needed to know was if she’d slept with him. “Tell me, does he like to grab your ass when you kiss? Slip you the tongue? Or maybe he’s not an ass-man, maybe—”

“Shut. Up. You’re such a Neanderthal. Give me a break. We’re not like that. He loves my … my intelligence. And my drive. He likes that we can sit together for hours and work without needing to talk.”

Jackson snickered. “Seriously? You guys spend hours together doing … nothing? And you
like
that? Jesus, Amanda, that is
not
good. Uh-uh. No way. He should be so involved that he’s thinking about getting in your pants or at least getting you out of them. And you should be on the same track with him. You can sit in a room with a damn cat or a bird. You don’t need a man for that.”

Amanda dropped her hands to her sides and fisted them. “You know what? We’re done here. Your advice sucks, Jackson. Getting Carter in or out of his pants isn’t the issue for me. Having someone I can count on, that’s what matters. Someone who has my back when I need him and shows up when things get rough. Someone who doesn’t hide behind family loyalties and elitist … crap.” She twirled fingers in a tornado-like motion and he wondered what kind of “crap” she referred to in the gesture. “I want someone who I don’t have to go looking for when I need a support system, someone who will find me instead. Why? Because for some stupid, silly woman-reason, I want to
matter
to him. Do you want to know why I disappeared? Why I didn’t talk to you the day I left or answer your calls? You want to know what was wrong?”