Something to Talk About (19 page)

So many things were wrong with that picture. When her children received more outward love from her friends than they did from their own flesh and blood, it might be time to reevaluate.

Clora gathered the keys, the jingle of them rousing Dora from her dog bed on the far side of the kitchen. “I’ll warm the car,” she said, gathering her coat, frowning again at Dora’s bulk, filling up the kitchen, leaving clumps of hair all over the place.

Dora nudged Em’s hip with her big, wet nose. She’d never been allowed to have a pet when she was a child. Dora had been an act of passive-aggressive payback to her mother, a silent eff you.

She recognized it for what it was now, though, over the past three years, she’d no sooner part with Dora than she would one of her children. The act of adopting her was a ridiculous way to show her mother she was going to give her children all the things she’d lacked as a child.

The boys had been so taken with her, sticking their fingers in her cage, giggling and cooing at her, it made Em smile wide. She loved to see them happy.

She’d adopted her at an adoption fair right in front of Clora while the boys looked on—defiantly holding up the squirming brown-and-white puppy like some trophy, as if to say, “Look at me not taking your advice. Hah!”

Clora had griped that Dora would only add to her workload, already pushed to its limits with a full-time job and a husband who wasn’t always present, even when he was in the same room. The more Clora protested her decision, the more Em was determined to pay the adoption fee.

Dora whined. She didn’t like Clora, hid from her every chance she got. Half St. Bernard and half something no vet from here to Johnsonville could identify, her big body harbored a total chicken.

Em ran a hand over her vast head and smiled. Dora was a good decision, clumps of hair, swamp breath and all. “How would you like to gnaw on some grandma for breakfast? I hear disapproval and cranky taste good in the mornin’.”

Dixie blew out a breath of air, shooting her a look of apology. “Sorry. She gets under my skin. I hate the way she talks to you, Em. Sometimes I forget my manners when I’m around her, but she makes me so mad.”

“Who makes you mad, Aunt Dixie?” Clifton asked, his blue coat still unbuttoned and half hanging off his shoulders.

“Button up, please, Clifton. You’ll catch your death. And I was talkin’ adult things with Dixie. Never you mind,” Em scolded, watching his face change from a half smile to put upon the moment she began to speak.

Sunlight streamed in from the trio of arched windows in her breakfast nook, glinting off Clifton’s hair, dark and thick, making her want to ruffle it. But that would only make him mad. Everything made him mad, just like her mother.

With that in mind, Em latched on to his chin and planted kisses on his rounded cheeks until he tried to pull out of her embrace, but he’d lingered for a moment. It was only a moment, but it was. “Now, go to school and learn something you can teach me when you get home tonight.”

“I hate school. It’s stupid.”

Em’s heart wrenched. She didn’t blame him for hating school. Clifton endured painful taunts because of what Louella had done. Her hope that the incident would die down was proving futile.

“So stupid!” Dixie agreed. “I say we skip stupid school forever, stay home and watch lots of TV until the cable man comes and turns it off. Because he will, you know. They do that when you don’t have a good job that pays you enough money for your bills. If you don’t go to school, that’s what happens. But I’m game to see how long we can last. You get the chips, I’ll get the beer.”

Clifton warred with a smile, but he managed to wrangle it in and scowl instead. “That’s so lame, Aunt Dixie. I’m not old enough to drink beer.”

“Or quit school—so get a move on, mister!” Dixie’s sympathetic eyes met Em’s over Clifton’s head.

Dixie understood the kind of torture the boys were experiencing at the hands of Louella’s quest for revenge. After last night, now Em understood, too.

“To the car, young man.” Em pointed to the door, blowing him a kiss.

He made a face at her and did what he was told, blissfully without protest.

Dixie clapped her hand on the counter the moment Clifton was out of earshot. “And that’s why I said what I did last night, Em. You can be as mad as a hornet at me, but someone’s got to speak up. Because I won’t have Clifton Junior hate goin’ to school. Does this happen every day? Still?”

“Not every day, but often enough. I’ve talked to the principal and the teachers until I’m blue in the face, and they keep a close eye out. I’ve watched Clifton like a hawk for all the signs his therapist said to watch for when a child is teased the way he’s been teased. But you know what children are like. Somehow, they still find a way to niggle you.” It was as much torture for Em as it was Clifton. Once the object of Dixie’s cruel taunts throughout high school, she understood how much it hurt to be singled out.

“I’m sorry I made you the center of attention. I know you hate it, but I’m not standin’ by and watching Louella take her licks out on you anymore. So if you want to keep bein’ friends, you’d better get ready for some fireworks. No more, Em. She will not get away with this. If you’d just let me, I’d gladly wring her neck for you. We could have a party. Invite all the Mags—maybe make some pink punch?”

The similarities between the problems the boys were having and the issues she and Dixie had back in the day were too close.

Dixie was a different person now, kind and generous, but she’d never understand what it was to be taunted every day of her life. “Isn’t it ironic, that you, once the meanest girl in all the land, now want to beat up your predecessor for startin’ the same kind of trouble you once did?”

“Can I just tell you how sick I feel every time I realize what’s happening to the boys was what I specialized in?”

Instantly, Em was remorseful. She loved Dixie. She’d forgiven her. “I’m sorry. That was wrong of me. But it hurts like I can’t tell you watchin’ them go through the same kind of torture I did.”

“Don’t apologize. The truth is the truth. I was horrible back then. Now I have to watch my best friend’s boys, boys I’d give an organ to, suffer because Louella Palmer wanted to hurt me. I hate that, Em. If you’d just let me, I could make it stop, you know I’d do it.”

“By takin’ your buckets o’ money on outta Plum Orchard? And what would that accomplish? The girls would be out of a job, and you’d have nothing to throw in everyone’s face.”

Dixie straightened her scarf. “But you can bet your stash o’ wine, I’ll do it.”

“It’ll die down, Dixie.”
Please, let it die down.

“Or I’ll kill Louella.”

Em chuckled—the uncomfortable moment where present met past over. She hugged Dixie. “No killin’. It makes for messy cleanup, and you know how I hate to work a shovel.”

Dixie sipped her coffee, aimlessly flipping the pages of a stray magazine. “So, on today’s agenda—have sex with Jax in front of an entire office?”

Em sank into the bar stool, her legs shaky, but she gave good face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I know you don’t. Know what else I know?”

Em gave her a guarded glance. “What else do you know?”

“I know that Sanjeev cleaned Jax’s office this morning and he sent me a text.”

“So?”

“So, Sanjeev said there’s a three for twenty-five sale going on at Victoria’s Secret. He saw it in their catalog. He asked me to pass that on to you.”

“Why would he say somethin’ like that?” she squeaked. Yes. That was definitely the squeak of the guilty.

“He thought you’d be interested in replacing the underwear you left in Jax’s office yesterday.”

She’d forgotten to scoop up her underwear after Jax had torn them off. A flush of red landed on her cheeks. She wasn’t sure if it was because she’d been caught or because the memory was so hot. Mortification washed over her. She was so bad at this. “Dixie—”

Dixie batted an eye at her. “No. Don’t deny it. It’ll just make you look guiltier. Don’t say anything. You seem to want to keep this all to yourself, and that’s fine by me. Sometimes you don’t want to share, even with your person. I understand. But let me just say this and then I’ll leave it alone for as long as you want me to keep my nose out of it. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“I know you don’t want anyone to know what’s going on with you and Jax. I know you’re afraid to add another element to the boys’ lives for the worry you’ll upset their tender hearts. I also know you don’t want to drag Jax into your life because you think he and Maizy will suffer the tongues waggin’ if he does. That’s just who you are, Em. Always putting someone else before you.”

Em shook her head, but Dixie put a finger to her lips. “Hush. Let me finish. If you’re doin’ what I think you’re doin’, which is doin’ the do with no regrets and no strings, don’t do it because you think it’s the only way you can do it.”

Her throat was dry, her tongue thick. “What exactly are you saying?”

“I’m saying you don’t have to be someone’s fling because you don’t think you’re good enough for anything more. You don’t have to be Jax’s fling because you think he wouldn’t want a woman like you for a serious relationship. You are good enough, Em, and I don’t want to see you hurt by the notion you can just walk away from this and remember it fondly somewhere down the road.”

Here it came. Because she wasn’t the type of woman who could love ’em and leave ’em. It made her sound clingy and obsessive, and she hated that. “Because I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Hey. Don’t you get defensive with me, Ms. Amos. You’re
not
that kind of girl. You’re just not, honey. You can kid yourself into believing you are, you can want to be, but you’re not. There’s nothin’ wrong with those kinds of girls, Em. Make no mistake about what I’m saying. It’s healthy and perfectly acceptable to enjoy the company of a man and not want to wash his underwear the next day. But I want you to really think about why you’ve ventured into this territory with Jax and not some stranger you don’t have to see every day.”

Em shrugged, her chin lifting. “Maybe I don’t want to think about it. Maybe he’s just amazing to look at and that’s all I need for right now.”
Maybe he’s also amazing in bed. Maybe he’s an amazing father.
Maybe Dixie was right and she was too chicken to hope for more with Jax because she really didn’t think she was good enough. She didn’t want to hear him say she wasn’t good enough. And the best way to do that was avoid it altogether.

“Good. You go on and be defiant. Be angry with me for speakin’ my mind. Be whatever. Just don’t be hurt. I can’t bear to see you hurt.” Dixie dug her keys out of her jacket pocket and gave her a return defiant gaze.

Em broke first, latching on to her friend’s arm, because she was solid, and she made sense right now and she had to find a way to make light of this so Dixie wouldn’t harp on the fact that she could end up hurt. “Something very unsettling is happening to me, Dixie. One minute I recognize the skin I’m wearing, the next I’m outside myself, looking at a total stranger.”

Tense moment diverted. “The evolution of an independent woman. It’s invigorating to watch. Maybe not as invigorating to be the subject of.”

“I will not evolve if it means Sanjeev finds my underwear in one of the offices at work.”

Dixie stopped short and eyed Em, scanning her face, searching for an answer Em probably didn’t have. “So you really are just having sex? That’s it?”

After these past couple of weeks, she didn’t want to think about what she wanted. She wanted to feel more like there was solid ground beneath her feet. She wanted her son to accept Clifton Senior’s absence, and not hate her for it. She wanted a lot of things.

Em avoided the question with more diversion. “He wants me to help him redecorate his house.”

“So he wants a decorator and a sex kitten?”

Being referred to as a sex kitten made her laugh out loud. “Take me to work, Dixie. I have underwear to leave lyin’ about.”

And a heart. She had one of those lying about, too. She only hoped it wasn’t lying on her sleeve.

Sixteen

E
m stretched her arms upward and rolled her shoulders. This air mattress would be the death of them, but what a lovely way to go.

Jax plucked the hooks on her garter belt and grabbed her leg, pulling her down the length of the bed for a kiss. “Roll over, I’ll give you the once-over.” He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers.

She gratefully did as she was told, so relieved to find Jax harbored no hard feelings when she’d approached him today at work. She’d rudely lashed out at him due to her own insecure inadequacies. But he’d just smiled and said it was none of his business and he shouldn’t have intruded. Later in the afternoon, he’d texted her to see if she could meet him tonight like nothing had ever happened.

Back to business as usual, and she tried not to let any hurt creep in because of it. He was sticking to the rules she’d set forth. How could she blame him for that?

Jax nibbled at the small of her back, making her sigh with pleasure. “Did I mention this outfit is megahot?”

Em had decided to go vixen tonight, a total non-Em outfit. Corsets and garters and stockings and shiny black leather pumps. “I think you showed your appreciation.” Her stockings and garters were all she had left on because he’d shown his appreciation so well. So well that when Jax was done licking her to orgasm, she decided if everything ended now, she’d be happy she decided to do this.

Em heard him rub his hands together with the slick massage oil and smiled when his hands rolled over her back, so strong and wide, he soothed her aching muscles.

“Why so tense?”

“Just a long day.” Aka her mother and their conversation this morning, and what Louella had said to her last night. She couldn’t stop thinking about her mother and the mention of a boyfriend.

Jax weaved a pattern along her shoulders, slippery and delicious. “Anything in particular?”

Well, there was Clifton Senior, too. “Clifton wants to meet to talk when he picks up the boys next week.”

“Why’s that a problem?”

“Because Clifton never wants to talk to me. He wants to pick the boys up halfway to Atlanta and not have to look me in the eye when he does it. So he must want something.” What that was, she couldn’t imagine. And once more, she was sharing personal details Jax could probably do without.

“How does he feel about you working at Call Girls?”

“Probably the same way I feel about him not telling me he liked to wear skirts.”

“Touché.”

There was no reason to explain Clifton’s displeasure about her working at Call Girls. Yet, she had trouble stopping herself. “Clifton has no right to judge me. I don’t take the calls, I manage them. I keep the boys from ever entering that building without putting everyone on notice. There’s no naughty when I bring them in.”

Jax rolled her over, planting his hands on either side of her head, and straddled her. “Hey, no judgment from me. I’m writing their security software, remember?”

She softened her gaze. She was touchy about her work when it came to the boys. Everyone always had something to say about it, mostly her mother and Clifton, and neither had any right to judge her. “Sorry. I’m touchy about Clifton. He doesn’t like that I left my job as Hank Cotton’s secretary for Call Girls. He said it’s not respectable work. But he’s not a single mother with an ex-husband who likes fancy dresses more than he likes to pay his child support, is he?”

Jax grinned. “Fair enough. So the boys...”

Her ears pricked. “What about them?”

“They take a real beating for this thing with Clifton and Call Girls, huh?”

And it was killing her. She had to make a living. What Hank had paid her had barely paid the bills, and with Clifton giving her so little for the boys, there really wasn’t any choice at all. Taking the job with Dixie had been the smartest financial move she’d ever made, but it was taking its toll on Clifton and Gareth.

Obviously, Jax was fishing around for something more than he’d heard at the diner. “How’d you hear that?”

“Well, there was the diner last night, but Maizy mentioned it to me the other night when we were reading her bedtime story.”

That made her sit up on her elbows with worry. “She did?”

Jax nodded, his eyes cautious. “She said that Gareth got into an argument because some other kid in their class was saying he had two moms.”

Her heart sank. Would this never end? She swallowed hard. “I had no idea. He didn’t say a word.” That Gareth wasn’t saying anything to her led her to believe he was giving her some of his stiff upper lip. Taking one for the team.

Jax cupped her face. “No worries. My Maizy told the kid to shut up and if he didn’t quit picking on Gareth, she’d punch him in the nose.”

Em laughed then covered her mouth. “You did tell her putting her hands on another person is unacceptable, didn’t you?”

“Nope. I told her to knock the little shit out cold.”

“You did not!”

“No, I didn’t. I gave her the no-hands-rule speech. But I really wanted to tell her to coldcock him.”

Somewhere deep inside, the notion Jax was standing up for Gareth, even if it was because his daughter was involved, made her warm inside. “I’m sorry she got involved in this. That’s part of the reason I didn’t want anyone to have even a hint about us. So you and Maizy wouldn’t suffer.”

“Hey, the kids would have become friends whether we had any involvement or not, Em. They go to school together. They don’t know thing one about us, and look, they’re hanging out at recess together. This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with my remarkable kid and your equally remarkable kid. Remarkable attracts remarkable.”

“She’s pretty remarkable.” Just like her dad.

Damn.

Jax stretched out next to her, stroking her bare belly. “So is Gareth, and so are you.”

Jax’s voice had taken that turn. The gravelly, smoky turn it took when he was turned on. “I’m nothin’ of the sort. You on the other hand,” she said, reaching between them to slip her fingers around his cock, “are a little remarkable.”

He grazed her knuckles over his chin and hissed his approval. “I’m all ears.”

Em slid down along his chest, running her tongue along his abs, caressing his chest as she went. She loved the taste of his skin, loved to rest her cheek on every rigid line along the way to his lower belly.

She teased him with her mouth, flitting her tongue across his belly button, letting her fingers curl into his crisp pubic hair. His moans, thick and low, gave her that sharp-hot pull in her belly.

Jax’s hands drove into her hair when her breath grazed his cock, urgent and impatient, but she took her time, touching him, learning what made his hips grind upward, discovering what made his breathing speed up.

He definitely liked when she pressed her breasts against his chest. He also liked when she let her hair drag over his skin. He really liked when she licked the spot just beneath the head of his hard length.

Em snaked her tongue over the pleasure point, satisfied when he tightened his grip on her hair. “You’ll kill me with that one of these days,” he husked out from above, his stomach muscles tightening.

Rising to her knees, she planted her hands on his thighs, kneading the planes and ridges, letting her body slip into position between his legs. “Death? So dramatic,” she teased, massaging the thick muscles before dipping down and taking her first taste of him.

Jax groaned, closing his eyes, his head falling back against the pillow when she wrapped her mouth around him and drew him between her lips, twisting her tongue along his shaft. She loved the feel of his reaction to her touch, loved that she was in charge—his moans always left her wet and aching.

Em’s hand followed her mouth, matching it stroke for stroke until Jax latched on to her shoulders and dragged her upward. Chest heaving, he drew her lips to his, kissing her long and hungry before easing a condom on and setting her atop his cock.

Em slid down on him, savoring every inch until he was rooted deep within her. A long sigh escaped her lips as he stretched her and she responded by tightening around him.

With his hands on her hips, Jax began to move inside her and her hips began to circle, her fingernails running through the hair on his belly, her nipples tight and hard.

Em’s eyes fell to Jax’s when he thumbed her clit, spreading her wide while thrusting into her. Their pace picked up, the shadows of their limbs and bodies entwined, dancing on the wall in the flicker of candlelight. She loved the power he exuded, the control he took when he made love to her. It was as if he was claiming her, demanding, for that moment, she be only his.

He pulled her down to him, cupping her breasts, bringing them together and licking at her nipples, tweaking them until that white-hot sizzle of hunger sliced through her and she came with a whimper.

Jax’s palms flattened on her butt, squeezing her flesh until he stiffened beneath her and came, too.

Boneless and shaky, Em fell into him, burying her face in his neck, inhaling his scent, the scent of their lovemaking.

When Jax caught his breath, he rolled her on her back, still inside her, nuzzling her jaw and making her squirm with the rough scratch of his five o’clock shadow.

“Thirsty?” he asked, pulling out of her and rolling to a sitting position.

“Are you sharing?”

He rose and reached for the bottle in the ice bucket, popping the cork. “Depends on what you have to barter with?” Jax wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

She loved to watch him move, loved to see the way his muscles flexed, tightened and released beneath his skin. While Jax poured, she sat up and stretched, reaching for the glass when he handed it to her.

“So what are you going to do with all this space? Wouldn’t it make an amazing playhouse for Maizy?” She’d had all sorts of ideas about how to renovate the guesthouse with its shabby walls and rotting barn wood.

“We still have to finish my house, and if we turn this into a playhouse for Maizy, we have nowhere to do all the wicked things we’ve been doing. We’d have to relocate.”

It wasn’t like they could renovate it overnight. He said those words like they’d be doing these wicked things for a long time to come.

She pulled her thoughts up short and called her daydreaming to an immediate halt. There would be no placing meaning on any of Jax’s words. She shrugged, keeping her response light and her smile warm. “I guess we’d just have to figure it out.”

“Besides, where would I put all this stuff?” He nodded toward the boxes stacked as high as the ceiling, taking the glass from her and sipping.

The wheels of Em’s mind began to turn as she took in the possibilities of the space, unable to keep herself from making suggestions. She wrapped the itchy army blanket around her and wandered toward the first pile by the door. “Built-ins, maybe? Some tall whitewashed ones? You know, the size of wardrobes? You could make a desk for Maizy right next to it.”

Her fingers went to the box as she thought out loud, startled when Jax yelled, “Be careful!”

Boxes came tumbling down around her head just as Jax lunged for her, dangly bits exposed and all. He pushed her out of the way as glasses and picture frames came spilling from the mouth of the top box, crashing at her feet. “Oh, Jax! I’m so sorry. I hope it wasn’t anything expensive.” She muttered another apology, tightening the blanket under her arms and stooping to begin cleaning up.

A black frame, worn around the edges, with a vivid streak of red caught her eye. She grabbed it just as Jax was pulling his pants on to help her.

Her breath lodged in her throat as she plucked the frame up and eyed it. At first she’d thought it was a picture of Maizy, but a closer look revealed a warehouse-type building behind them as the setting and Jax with his arm around two people. The first a man, blond and athletic looking, with the same hard jaw as Jax, but smiling, playful blue eyes, and the other...

Maizy’s mother. There was no doubt in her mind. She had the same amazing shock of vibrant red hair, the same beautiful skin, the same eyes. Gorgeous, this woman was absolutely breathtaking. Em couldn’t even summon up an ounce of jealousy for her—she was that beautiful. The gorgeous woman’s gaze was on Jax’s face, and her eyes screamed head over heels for him.

“Maizy’s mother?” She knew she should hush, but her curiosity, her mother had always said, would be the death of her. Looking up at Jax and the hard line of his mouth, she definitely should have just hushed.

His nod was curt. “Reece.”

This was a no-no subject, but did that stop her? “Where is she?”

“Gone,”
he said, and then he was silent. So silent, she heard him purposely being silent.

Em hopped up, cursing her shredded nylons. Danger, Will Robinson. Stop. Do not trespass. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. Here.” She held out the frame to him, putting a hand on his arm, but he turned away, brushing her off.

“Just throw it in the pile.”

Em frowned. This was his child’s mother. She spoke before she thought. “But it’s a picture of Maizy’s mother. Won’t she want it?”

“It’s also a picture of my dead best friend, Jake. Throw it in the pile, Em.” His voice had risen just enough to warn her she should back off.

Suddenly, he was all angry vibes and tense gestures, the light mood between them gone. Time to go home and glue her lips shut. “I’m sorry about the mess. I’ll help—”

“I got it,” Jax said, running a hand over his jaw.

She waved a hand like it was no big deal he was angry for some unknown reason he didn’t care to divulge. “I have to go anyway. Six o’clock comes really early.”

Without another word, she gathered her clothes, pulling on her silly trench coat and heels and gathering up her purse.

He seemed to remember she was going out into the cold, dark night without him. “Let me get dressed and I’ll walk you to your car.”

But Em just smiled and dismissed him like she made all her lovers in the afternoon angry. “No need. I’m fine. The car’s not that far, and I have to be up early to take the boys to meet their father anyway. It’s Clifton’s weekend. See you Monday. Thanks for a great night. Sweet dreams, Jax.” Then she was yanking open the door and moving as fast as her incredibly high heels would allow her.