Unavoidable Chance (10 page)

“I really have to go,” she says.

“I still have one minute,” I say, looking at my watch.

She rolls her eyes and sees one more couple walking half a block away. “What about them?” she asks.

She thinks she has me on this one. I see Asher and Willow walking side by side, his arm draped over her shoulder, her head resting in the crook of his arm. Does she think I don’t remember who they are?

“Those two are extremely in love. She just told him that she’s pregnant. See how her hand is resting on her belly? See how he has her in a protective hold?”

“Ha, that’s my brother and Willow, and I know for a fact that they’re not pregnant. In fact the only gift you have is of being an ass!” she says, and stands up with her arm extended for me to give her the file.

“I’m an ass?” I ask rhetorically.

“Yes, your subtle way of saying that night was a booty call was low and an asshole thing to do.”

Booty call, what the hell is she talking about? I stand and face her, point my finger at the vacated bench and say, “Sit.”

“Sit?” she repeats. Her eyebrows disappear in her bangs and she crosses her arms over her chest in defiance.

“Sit,” I say again. She shifts her weight onto her left foot and turns her head to the right. Her defiance sends my dick twitching in my pants.

“Your time is up,” she says, holding out her hand for the file.

“Sit,” I say a third time closing the distance between us. She looks up into my eyes, then slowly descends her ass to the bench. Her eyes never leave mine. Her arms stay crossed over her chest and she looks toward the courthouse. I take my seat next to her and continue, “What are you talking about, booty call?”

“Find the meaning of this? Ring a bell? Well, I found your stupid meaning quite clear and quite frankly it’s all for the better. I’m too busy.”

I’m confused, because the meaning was crystal clear. How in the hell does new beginning translate to booty call?

“Look, I have to go, thank you for lunch, but give me my file,” she says, stands and holds out her hand again.

I know she doesn’t have much time left. I hand her back her file, she turns around and walks away without another word. Even though I’m not sure why she’s pissed at me, the sway in her ass as she walks up the steps makes my twitching dick rock hard.

Back in my truck, I pull out my cell phone and type in yellow orchid in my browser. I click on one of the sites, and just as John said, it means new beginning. I back out and click on another site. Apparently, there are two meanings of yellow orchids. I only have one word for the other one word meaning of friendship.

Fuck.

Chapter 7

Ava

These past two weeks have been a living hell. I’ve devoted twenty of each of my twenty-four hour days to either being in court, getting ready for court, or thinking about court. I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this. To make things worse, the case is really just starting and it could drag on for months. Other than Jax’s crazy lunch break last week, I haven’t seen anyone except my assistant, my clients, or the judge. I’ve received several texts from my brothers and sister saying they’ll see me Sunday for dinner. Which basically means, you missed last Sunday, so don’t miss this one, or your ass is grass. I honestly don’t know if I can make it this Sunday, either.

Savvy and I are like two ships in the night. I haven’t seen her face in a week and a half. She usually goes with me to Sunday dinner if she’s not working at the bar. She worked last Sunday and I was just way too busy to go. I feel really bad for not connecting with my family, or with Savvy.

I open the door and enter my condo at three in the morning, just as Savvy’s bedroom door closes.

Missed her again.

This case is totally kicking my ass. In the past two weeks, I think I’ve survived on Pop Tarts and coffee and a total of twelve hours of sleep. Oh, and wine. I survive my nights with a glass of wine, alright, maybe a half a bottle of wine each night. Reagan does her best to slip in a healthy meal here and there, when she can. Thank God, I haven’t heard from Jax, either.

So far for the case, bail was denied, which was a total surprise. The jury has been selected, and opening statements begin Monday. Every time I think about the outcome of this case, my heart sinks. There’s just no evidence.  I feel it in my heart that he’s guilty, but a feeling doesn’t get you anywhere in court. It’s based on facts. And the fact is there’s just no evidence. I feel like I’m about to fight the biggest losing battle of my life.

My cell phone vibrates in my briefcase; I take it out on my way to the refrigerator. I open the door and find pretty much what I expected, nothing. I don’t think Savvy eats here either. I walk back to my briefcase, take out the other half of the Pop Tart from this morning and put it between my teeth as I slide the bar across my cell phone. It’s from Kyle. It says, “Go to bed.”

How does Kyle know I’m not in bed fast asleep to begin with? So I text him, “How do you know I’m not in bed sleeping right now?”

He texts back, “I just drove by your condo and saw the light on. And you’re texting me so you’re not sleeping. See you Sunday.”

He must be on his way home from a late shift at the hospital or something. My sister’s husband, Kyle, is an OB/GYN. I wonder if he had a late night delivery? I missed seeing all my cute nieces and handsome nephews last Sunday.

I can’t believe how much my family has grown in just the past four years. My brother, Asher, and his wife, Willow, have two beautiful children, Abbey and Aaron. My sister, Amelia, and her husband, Kyle, have a son, Noah. My brother, Adrian, and his wife, Shay, have two beautiful adopted kids, Micah and Makayla, and are now pregnant. The thought of me and probably never having my own children hits me hard. I’ve chosen to put my career above everything else. It’s a choice I still stand firmly by.

I toss my phone on the table, take out my paperwork and my laptop, and get to work munching on a stale Pop Tart.

I wake up Friday morning in my own bed. I’m not sure how I even got here, but that’s progress from waking up with my laptop keyboard indented on my face. I take a quick shower and race out the door, completely forgetting to make coffee. In what universe does me forgetting my coffee, even exist in? I pass my favorite coffee house and long for the days when I didn’t go because I was trying to avoid Jax. Now, I’m just too busy and don’t have time.

I have several more texts from family members, each one becoming more threatening. If my presence is not made, they will hunt me down. There is one concerning one from Max, but I don’t have time to read it all. I’ll go and make an appearance at Sunday dinner for an hour and see what he wants. If things go like I think they will with this case, this will be the last Sunday I can manage for a few months.

I look up at the clock above my office door and it says midnight. Where has the time gone? My office looks like a bomb went off in it. Case files, books, and papers occupy every square inch of my office. I don’t work well in clutter. I’ll come in tomorrow and organize everything. I wave to Gus on my way out of the building with my keys in my hand, and head to my car.

I’ve always felt safe in the parking garage; it’s monitored by surveillance cameras, and security guards are always walking the grounds and the garage. For some reason, though, my senses go on high alert. I quicken my pace and check my surroundings. The garage is mostly empty except for a few cars. Then I spot it. Jax’s H3 parked directly across from my car. I see his large frame sitting in the driver’s seat, but as I get closer, I see his head is leaning back on the headrest.

He’s sleeping.

I wonder how long he’s been sleeping in his car, and I wonder why security hasn’t kicked him out?

Gus.

Damn it.

Along with my diet of Pop Tarts and coffee, I also have an obsession with Swedish Fish. I buy the oversized, no-one-should-eat-this-by-themselves bag from the warehouse store and keep one on me at all times. I reach into my briefcase and take out a handful. I chuck the entire handful at his windshield. Several of them hit his windshield with a tiny thud, then slide down and rest on the top of his wiper blades. As light as they were, he must have cat like hearing because he darts awake. His eyes lock with mine and zero in.

Oh shit.

His door opens and his large frame slides out rather quicker than I think it should. I turn around and sprint to my car on my tip toes. One of these days I’ll look into wearing flats. Does Louboutin even make drop dead killer flats? As I argue with myself over choices of footwear, he catches me even before my second footstep hits concrete. His arm snakes around my stomach and with a thud my back crashes into his front.

“Did you just throw gummy bears at my truck?” he asks.

“No,” I answer truthfully.

“No? Well, let’s go check it out, shall we.” He picks me up off my feet and carries me back to his overgrown on steroids vehicle. He reaches over and takes one of the red, yummy, delicious fish from his hood, and now that I think about it, why did I waste perfectly good fish on him?

“Then what’s this?” he asks, holding one in front of my face.

“A Swedish Fish,” I answer.

He sets me back on my feet, then turns me around to face him and looks into my eyes. Again, I swear to God, they’re dancing with fire. His hand comes to the side of my face, he takes a deep breath, then his lips crash down on mine. He backs toward his truck and opens the back door. He grabs me by the waist and sits me on the back seat.

“Wait, I’m not doing this again. I’m not just a booty call,” I say, breaking our kiss and pushing his chest slightly away.

“New beginning,” he says, then starts to kiss me again.

“What?” I respond, breaking the kiss.

“The meaning of the yellow orchid I sent you. It means new beginning.”

“But, I looked it up and it said friendship,” I clarify.

“I guess there are two meanings, but the meaning I was trying to say to you is new beginning.”

I look into the fire roaring in his eyes and the tingle starts at my ankle and works its way up the back of my legs. I grab his face and kiss his warm, soft lips. His hand snakes around my back and he lifts me farther into the truck. He lays me down on the bench seat, turns around and closes the door; he removes his shirt, and tosses it in the front seat, then starts kissing me again. His hand comes down my arm, over to my stomach; he pulls my shirt out from under my skirt, then lifts it up and over my head. I fist my hands in his hair and lift my left knee between his thighs and apply slight pressure to the bulge in his jeans.

My hands leave his hair and travel down to his muscular arms. He’s built like a powerhouse. A tapping noise on the window breaks our kiss. We both look toward the noise and see a security guard tapping his flashlight on the window. Jax covers my chest with his and pulls my head in the crook of his neck. “Give me twenty more minutes, Dave,” he says.

“I’ll give you thirty,” Dave offered, then turns around and walks away. Well, that’s just great, first Gus, now Dave.

Jax sits up in the seat, putting his feet on the floor, then pulls me up facing him in his lap. My skirt rides up my thighs; his hands come to the center of my back and he unhooks my bra. There’s no other feeling that can match being skin to skin with Jax. I kiss down his neck, down his chest, then grab his belt and undo it. I get off his lap and sit on the floor between his feet, and it’s surprising the amount of space in this back seat. His hands go in my hair as I unbutton and unzip his jeans. He lifts up his ass slightly, enough so I can pull his pants and boxers to his ankles. I sink my mouth down on him; one of his hands leave my head and grips the edge of the seat, the other stays threaded in my hair.

I love the feeling of him in my mouth. Coming down, I take him all the way to the back of my throat, coming up I unsheathe my teeth from my lips and gently rake them to the tip.

“Oh, Ava,” he whispers. Every muscle in his body is rock hard. Softly, I take him in my hand and cup his balls. I wrap my hand around him and separate his balls with my thumb, and rub the very base of his penis up and down. He draws air in between his teeth while his whole body shudders.

“Up, I need your lips on mine, now,” he demands.

Placing my knees to the outside of his thighs, I plant my panty clad core in his lap and I give him my lips. His hand goes to the floor in search of his jeans. He leans me forward as he finds them and digs in the pocket. He takes out a condom, rips it open with his teeth, then glides it on. His hand goes from his cock to under my panties. At his touch, I moan and find his lips again. He rubs small circles and I pant in his mouth. I ache for him to be inside; it’s pure torture, but exquisite heaven at the same time.

“Jax,” I plead.

“Are you going to ignore me ever again?” he asks.

“What?” I moan.

“When I send you something, are you going to ignore me again?”

“No. Please.”

“Please, what?” he challenges.

“Please, I need you inside, right now,” I beg.

“Are you going to throw Swedish Fish at my car again?” he asks.

At this point I don’t know if he’s riding my sex or if I’m riding his fingers. My body is moving up and down as his fingers draw small circles up and down. Two fingers slip inside every few seconds and I’m close to letting go. But at his second question, I stop.

“Yes,” I answer.

“Yes, what? You’re going to throw fish at my car again?” he asks to clarify.

“If you keep stalking me, yes, but it may also be a Pop Tart.”

His fingers start to move again and I sink my teeth in my bottom lip. He pulls my panties down my thighs and I take one leg out, then he rubs my entrance with his tip. I lift up and sink myself on him with relief. His hand and his lips come to my nipple as I move up and down. I put my palm to the roof of his car and push with every downward stroke. The harder I push down, the closer I get to the edge. He moves his hands to my ass cheeks and sinks his fingers in, sending me into my release. He lifts me up and down until I completely ride it out. His hands come up my back, his fingers wrap around the front of my collarbone, then he stills me seated on his lap.