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“They exist because you choose to make them exist.”
“Spoken like a man who aligns with his family.”
“Is that a problem for you?”
My brow furrows with this odd response and question. “Of course not. I was making a point. You don’t have to fight with your family.”
“Everyone has to fight with their family. That’s called the natural law of the land.”
“A man of wisdom and whiskey,” I say. “The latter of which exceeds my limits. A choice I made but nevertheless regret.”
“Assholes will do that to you,” he wisely concludes.
“Yes. All the assholes.” I laugh, a sincere laugh that surprises me. I haven’t laughed in, well, in a long time. “They multiply. The assholes that is.” I swallow hard and before I can stop myself, I’ve turned somber, and I’m adding, “Especially since my father passed.”
His fingers flex on my waist. “You could run away.”
“My father used to say never make a decision while running.”
“And mine used to say, never run from a decision,” he adds. “Sometimes standing still is, in fact, running from a decision.”
This conversation is now traveling to a place I don’t want to travel. “I should go.” I try to move away.
He catches my waist with both hands this time, the heat of his touch magnified by two, and when my eyes collide with his, the current between us is electric. “Don’t run from me, Emma. Run awaywith me.”
“They’re waiting for me.”
“You don’t even like them,” he says, his tone pure silk as he adds, “You like me.”
“I don’t know you.”
“Do youwantto know me?” He lowers his voice. “Because I want to know you, Emma Knight.”
Everything inside me warms in ways that I haven’t felt warm in a very long time, but I’m not clear-headed. I’m vulnerable right now in ways that make this dangerous. My hand flattens on his chest. “I can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“This,” I say. “Whatever this is.”
“Why?”
“Emma!”
At the sound of Marion’s voice, Jax’s chin lifts slightly, his broad chest rising with a breath. I step back from him, and his hands fall away. For a split second, maybe two, our eyes collide again, and I can’t explain it, but it’s as if we share a secret. A secret we can’t allow to be told.
And then suddenly Marion rounds the corner and launches herself in our direction. I turn to face her and find myself whisked into a hug. “I know this is a hard time for you. I know.” Her voice cracks with emotion that she might play off as losing a friend, but I know it’s more. I know the many ways this woman hurt my mother and I don’t know how I leave that alone.
I push back from her. “I’m fine.”
Her eyes narrow on my face. “You’re angry.”
“I do believe that’s a phase of grief.”
“Yes,” she says, after a pause. “I do believe it is. Randall is antsy for your return. I’ll just hurry into the ladies’ room.” She steps around me, leaving ice in the air around me as she does. A chill the man behind me will no doubt heat. I draw in a breath, preparing myself for his impact, but when I turn he’s not there. He’s disappeared down another hallway. Apparently, he didn’t want me to run away with him all that badly. And I wouldn’t have anyway.
Would I have? No. I would not, and yet that regret I felt when he stopped touching me is heavy and oh so undeniable. I rotate and start walking the direction I came from, but I don’t leave Jax behind. He’s already gone.
Chapter three
