"You're right. She should move on, find some guy who will take care of her, make her laugh, have fun getting her pregnant with his babies." My grip tightened on the wood. I felt sick at the thought of another guy getting to caress her silky skin, capture her gasps as she came in his mouth, and hold her tight while she shuddered with pleasure. Someone who got to enjoy her tender touches, the way she appreciated simple things like movies at home, family dinners, and cuddles on the couch.
Oblivious to my mental torture, Noah continued. "Meanwhile, you can go on with your less meaningful relationships, but with the knowledge that you're free to come and go as you please. No one who cares whether or not you ate or to share your successes with. I mean, that's what you want, right? You get the building you want. You can carry through with all your grand plans that keep you up at night. You can even rest easy knowing you don’t have to deal with Mallory or Gene anymore." His frustration was unmistakable.
Silence fell. I wished the dark of night would swallow me up. I grabbed the bottle of Scotch to help it along, but Noah's next words pulled me back. "Do you know why I even invited your sorry ass up here tonight? Not because I was bored and thought how much fun it would be to babysit a sulky friend. I called you because the woman who loves you is worried about you and wanted to make sure someone checked on you."
"She called you?"
"Yep. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy having your sorry ass come up here to drink all my liquor. But I do have other things to do rather than try to save you from making a huge mistake."
I shook my head. "I don't know what to do."
"Well first, I'm going to let you drown your sorrows in liquor like any good friend would do. Then, tomorrow, when your head is splitting, I'm going to kick you out and tell you how stupid you are, also because I'm a good friend."
I looked at the label on the bottle in my hands. It took me a few seconds to bring it into focus. "Cheap bastard. You could have at least given me the good stuff I know you've got."
He snorted. "If you're so torn up you can't even tell the difference, that ought to tell you something. You can have the good stuff when you get your girl back."
"I don't know how."
Noah snickered. "One word. Wallow. Like a clean pig who found his first mudhole."
38
Jax
I didn't care that it was late at night. I didn't care that I was running on two hours of shitty sleep, or that I'd spend the day nursing a hangover while reflecting on the words of a man I never wanted to see again who’d been thrust front and center back into my life. I only cared about seeing Grace.
I negotiated multi-million dollar deals frequently. I wasn't afraid of conflict and had taken on more than one ornery construction site manager or cocky lawyer. I never wavered. I never backed down from a fight. I’d been a boy the last time I’d made myself deliberately vulnerable. But if I’d learned anything lately, I knew yielding to my feelings for Grace wasn’t a sacrifice; it was the way to gaining everything.
So here I was with my hand poised mid-air, ready to knock on Grace's apartment door, frozen. This was the most important negotiation of my life. Everything I owned, every resource I had, I would sacrifice if I thought it would help. But knowing they wouldn't had my stomach tied in knots. The old saying about not knowing how much you loved something until you didn't have it anymore was true.
Fucking-A. I hadn't left the peace of the farm to drive down here to cower out now. What was the point of having balls if you didn't use them? If my mission here failed, she might as well keep them anyway. I knew I'd never want another woman the way I wanted Grace.
The irony of the moment wasn’t lost on me. I’d met Grace at a wedding where I thought my cousin was handing his balls over. Now here I was, with far few guarantees than Derek had with Maggie.
My knuckles rapped on her front door. A second time. I raised my hand ready to try again when the door flung open. Grace stood there in a short silky robe, her face flushed, eyes confused and a little red, and strands of tousled hair falling across her face.
She was absolutely beautiful.
And pissed. Gloriously, beautifully, pissed off. I could work with anger.
She crossed her arms. "What are you doing here?"
I pushed my way inside her apartment. I whirled around to face her.
"Jax? Wh—"
Her voice broke off as I pulled her flush against me and fused my lips to hers. The groan that I felt rumble against my chest never saw the light as I clasped her hips and lifted her, pressing her back against the door she'd just closed. When I felt her legs encompass my waist and her fingernails scrape my head, I lifted my head, panting. "Don't ever think I don't want you." Then I closed the distance between our mouths again. It fueled my hope that I wasn't too late.
Until she ripped her mouth away and started smacking me on the shoulders to let her down.
Reluctantly, I set her back on her feet. Her eyes blazed at me with such fury I started to believe spontaneous combustion might be the cause of my demise. Her swollen lips opened then closed. When she finally spoke, her voice came out more like a squeak. A trembling hand pointed a finger at me.
"You. You don't get to come here in the middle of the night and kiss me like that. You lost that right when you kicked me to the curb like I never meant anything to you."
I shook my head. "I was wrong, and I'm sorry. You mean everything to me." I took a step toward her, but she darted around me and put more distance between us. "Let me explain. Please, just listen."
"You want to explain? You want me to listen? I was more than willing to try to talk and explain things to you days ago, but you wouldn't give me the opportunity. So, what's changed now, Jax? Because of what happened yesterday? Because you got the building you wanted? Well, congratulations, because you got the contract, but you don’t have the girl."