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There was something so vulnerable in his voice. I rested my hands on his chest where I could feel his heart beat in overtime against my palm. One way or another, this had to stop, for both our sakes. I pushed against him and scooted around him when he took a step back. "Jax, I...I don't..."
His shoulders slumped as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry. I was out of line. Again. It's the way I seem to be around you. I'll take you home, and I promise I won't bother you again."
There was no hesitation this time. "No. We should talk."
21
Jax
I couldn't hold back my sigh of relief when Grace agreed to come home with me. I knew I was lucky she was giving me another chance. This time, I wouldn't make the mistake of walking away unless she didn't want me. But judging by the way she kissed me back, I had a renewed sense of hope.
She was uncharacteristically quiet on the ride to my house and played with her fingers in her lap. I hated that I'd made her uncertain around me when she'd always been so strong and able to put up with my bullshit. Noah had been right; Grace was someone I wasn't able to forget. I'd tried. And it obviously wasn't about sex, which was what my other 'relationships' with women had been based on. I'd enjoyed their company to a point, but I didn't look forward to spending time with them outside of the bedroom.
It had to mean something. Something big enough I was willing to break my rules. I was fucking terrified. I was breathless. I was determined.
I parked in my assigned space to my newly renovated condo. I glanced over to see her biting her lip. Undoing my seatbelt, I reached across and pulled the abused flesh from her teeth. "Don't be nervous. We won't do anything you don't want to do, okay? But I think we need to talk. Or, rather, I need to talk and hope you'll listen. Okay?"
"Okay."
There was nothing to her tone to give me a clue about what she might be thinking. I struggled not to touch her on the elevator ride up to my place. Ever since I'd seen that fucker with his hands on her, I'd been dying to wipe his prints off of her and replace them with my own. But I hadn't earned that right, not yet, despite yielding to the need to taste her for what might be the last time depending on how the rest of tonight went.
"Wow." Her eyes darted all around my living space. "Your place is...nice. It looks like something right off the pages of a designer's magazine."
I didn't bother to mention that it was. Her words sounded the way one says something when they're trying to be kind, but not honestly liking what they see. Funny, it usually impressed anyone else that I brought here, but I suspected it was because they saw it as evidence of the material comforts I could provide them.
Leave it to Grace to view it through a different lens. I tried to see it through her eyes. Neat, clean lines of leather and glass furniture met light grey walls and dark wood floors. There were no fussy, overstuffed pillows that took up most of the couch nor soft blankets in which to cuddle, no conversational photography books on the coffee table, and no happy pictures of days at the beach with family or college days with friends. It was organized, clean, and efficient, the way I liked my life. I'd always thought it was modern, chic. Now it looked cold and impersonal. Grace was the only splash of color in the large room. Fitting; she was the only color in my life.
"Can I get you something to drink?" I walked into my kitchen, feeling a little lost as to what to do, where to start. Usually, when I brought a woman back to my condo, we headed straight for the bedroom. I didn't have to worry about other entertainment.
"Just some iced water, please."
I returned with the request, along with a square glass and a generous portion of eighteen-year Glenmorangie. Call it what it was—liquid courage. I pressed a button on a remote resting on my mantle, and warm flames rose up in the fireplace. It was my best effort at trying to infuse some artificial warmth into the space.
"I know it's not as comfortable as your parents' house, but I don't spend much time here, so I guess I've never really noticed." I'm not sure why I felt the need to apologize.
She smiled. "It goes along well with the J. Carter image."
"I'm not sure what that means."
"It's the same image you first give off. Polished, cool, collected."
"Why do you sound like you don't approve?"
A shrug was her only answer until I raised a questioning eyebrow and nodded for her to continue.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be insulting. You are all those things. And those are all good qualities, especially in business. But it's also aloof. And I know there's much more to you that you try to keep hidden."
Her words began to pour out in a rush. "You have a wicked sense of humor, you're willing to fight for the underdog, and you love your family and are willing to jump in to help. But you can't see any of that here. It's just another barrier to getting to know the real you. Like a mask or a...a..." Wide eyes stared at me. "I'm sorry, that came out harsher than I meant."
She only stopped when I put my finger to her mouth. "You're so cute when you ramble." When she stood still and looked up at me with her gorgeous blue eyes, my heart beat a little faster.
"Never apologize to me for what you think. One of the things I admire about you is you're not afraid to tell me the truth."
"I wouldn't lie to you."
"I believe you." If she only knew how big of an admission that was, she wouldn't take my words for granted.
Grace took a step back from me. "Why are we here, Jax?"
