Page List


Font:  

It was full of so much win, he’d be a fool to jeopardize any part of their current arrangements. They were padding their bank accounts with the overly generous fee Jordan paid them in addition to providing free room and board even while they double-dipped with other jobs. Session musician work had never been on his radar, but now that he had a taste of it, he loved it. Meanwhile, Laurel had quickly become Middletown’s favorite server in addition to giving Devra and Morgan the suggestions she’d tried to implement at the pub they’d worked at, although their boss hadn’t been interested in change. The women had been so impressed with her work ethic and the improvements she’d made that they’d insisted on putting her on their payroll as a consultant in addition to a waitress. She’d also started to talk to Tom and Ms. Brown, the unofficial heads of their ever-expanding Middletown family about her dream of someday helping people through social work.

Tom had hooked them up with the opportunity to volunteer at the shelter in town and Laurel, Jace, and Nolan had all put in some time giving back where they could. He admitted, the warm, fuzzy feeling it gave him was almost as addicting as the rush he got from performing.

Truth was, Laurel no longer had to work at all if she didn’t want to, but Jace suspected she craved being around the other women, who had quickly become friends in addition to employers or clients at the shelter. They were open-minded, unconventional, and accepting…there wasn’t a lot not to like.

Yeah. Jace could hardly believe he wasn’t living one of the fantasies he’d cooked up while lugging tubs of gross dishes up and down the stairs of the O’Flannery’s, where they’d worked after escaping Heels. It was a lot to process, and too good to get used to. Because if it all disappeared again as quickly as it had revolutionized their lives, he wasn’t sure he could survive the disappointment.

Jace stretched then hit the bathroom, scrubbing his hand over his face as he turned into the open area of the trendy tiny house he already felt so damn at home in. It was a combo kitchen living room. Barely bigger than the entryway of Jordan’s place, it was more than he’d ever dreamed of for himself and Laurel. It was private without any neighbors to argue through definitely-not-up-to-code walls in the middle of the night. Clean, without even a single roach for poor Dottie Long-Tongue to make into a midnight snack.

He reminded himself a million times a day that similar to Nolan’s gorgeous guitar, which he’d caved and played a couple of times lately with Kason before returning it to its velvet-lined nest, none of this was actually theirs. They were only borrowing this life as long as they remained useful to the Shields.

Maybe it would be for the best if Draven never got caught.

Jace’s stomach cramped at that. Who the hell was he turning into if he only cared about pampering himself at the expense of those still suffering? That was not who he wanted to turn into. No, no way. Fuck.

He trudged into the kitchen, annoyed with himself on a number of levels. Not the least of which was frustration over his raging libido. He’d never had so much trouble controlling his desire before. Being locked up with Nolan and Laurel for large swaths of each day made it impossible to school his dick to stay dormant, especially without the outlet of his usual hookups. He groaned, then hit the brew button on the coffeepot. While it began to spit out his first steaming cup—which would hopefully clear the bullshit from his brain—he braced his hands on the counter, hanging his head.

“You sleep okay?” The baritone of Nolan’s voice caressed his ears, nearly as sweet as the music he’d been making with Kason lately.

Jace adjusted his sweatpants in case the last bit of his morning wood decided to regrow in honor of the sexy bastard who’d scooted the coffee table aside to do one-handed pushups while barely breaking a sweat.

“Yeah, man.” Jace grabbed his mug, which belonged to a matching set with not a single chip among them, and slouched on the couch, propping his trusty guitar across his lap for extra insurance. Probably wise considering the impressive, well-muscled body demonstrating all it was capable of in front of him. He’d have to take the guy up on working out together more often. Damn.

Even Laurel wasn’t immune to Nolan. Jace caught her staring more times than he cared to admit. Frankly, Nolan-watching was a hell of a lot better than streaming trash on the TV the guy blocked with his bulky frame. Jace wondered what it would feel like to fuck a man like that…or be fucked by one.

He strummed his guitar idly. It was beat to hell, had been through a lot, like Jace himself, but it had been high quality once. Nothing like Nolan’s or the seemingly endless assortment of instruments Kason brought with him. However, it meant more to Jace. He’d found it in a pawnshop and Laurel had insisted on rescuing it when he’d refused to splurge. It might not be pristine, but it was special to him because of the sacrifice they’d made to own it and what a luxury it had been at the time.

It had been the first time they’d allowed themselves to believe the future could be different. Better than what they’d been living for so long.

Of course, the purchase had paid itself back many times over, especially since he’d been working for Kason, but that had been far from guaranteed.

“Don’t you think you’re buff enough already?” Jace sniped when Nolan flipped around to his back to start in on his zillion crunch quota for the day.

“Does that mean you do?” Nolan grinned at him, never breaking his pace. “Thanks.”

“You’re making me look bad.”

“To who? Laurel?” Nolan’s laugh puffed out as he constricted his perfect fucking abs. “I don’t think so. She adores you…and she’s totally into that street scrapper vibe you’ve got going on. I think I’m too much of a pretty boy to be any competition.”

Even while exercising, his hair was pretty damn perfect. That bastard.

“It’s not like that between us, you know.” Jace stared at the bridge of his guitar, fingering chords to a sad song he loved.

Nolan did stop then, sitting up and facing Jace from the floor. “Could be if you wanted it to be. You know that, don’t you? Hell, you two already act like you’ve been married for twenty years. It’s…nice.”

Jace’s gaze swung to Nolan’s. Could the guy actually be envious of Jace? What the fuck?

When he paused to think about it, he nodded. “Laurel’s been my partner in life, there’s no doubt about that. I would never have made it without her. And that’s why I’d never risk ruining our friendship with sex. I don’t even know if she’d be into it. With me or anyone else.”

Jace was sure that aside from a few times it had been fuck or starve after they’d first escaped, she hadn’t slept with anyone. She’d told him so enough times for him to be sure she wasn’t shitting him. Laurel didn’t do casual. And that was fine with him.

“Only one way to find out, really.” Nolan shrugged one lightly glistening shoulder.

“Are you saying you want to try?” Jace’s hackles rose, but it wasn’t fair to go junkyard dog when he wasn’t planning on making a move, was it? Just because he wished things were different, didn’t mean he had the right to keep Laurel from finding happiness or pleasure with someone else—maybe Nolan—if that’s what she wanted.

“Chill out, Jace.” Nolan winced. “Grip that thing any harder and you’re going to snap its neck.”

Jace instantly relaxed his fingers, silently apologizing to his guitar.


Tags: Jayne Rylon Powertools: The Shields Erotic