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I grimaced after the words left my lips. That wasn’t what I really thought of Emma but knowing what I did, the fact she’d never brought it up once, but Jaxson had told me, it nagged at me in the back of my mind. Why was she here? Was she vying for his affection and attention?
I hadn’t seen them together other than the one night at the bar, but maybe there was something I didn’t know. I hadn’t been in Breckenridge that long. Had he been keeping his own secrets from me?
With one hand, he rubbed his forehead, and the other remained planted on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I didn’t want him to apologize if he didn’t mean it or he didn’t know what for.
He stalled, not answering me right away.
“Here, I’ll make it easy on you. You’ve been an ass to me, in fact, the biggest bosshole that I know of. Tell me I’m wrong,” I said, staring at him.
He kept his focus on the road and every so often he’d glanced in my direction, but now he didn’t look at me. He shifted under my gaze, clearly uncomfortable with what I’d said. He wanted the truth. He deserved it.
His jaw was tight, his teeth clenched. His left hand came down on the steering wheel as he guided the truck onto the private driveway toward his residence.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Don’t worry. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can find someplace to live. I had planned on staying at the resort, but it’s under new management at the moment.”
He huffed under his breath. “Do you think you’re funny, cracking a joke like that? You could have gotten killed today.”
“Well, I didn’t. I’m sure you’re disappointed that I’m still here, taking up residence under your roof.” I hadn’t intended to go so far, but the words slipped out. He didn’t really wish me dead, right? He just hated me. Was there a difference? I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on.
Maybe I should grab my blanket and steal a pillow and go sleep in the damned shed. The only piece of property I owned with a roof. Well, it was that or my car, but my vehicle was down at the resort, which made sleeping in hard. That would be my plan. I could easily live out of my car. I just needed to get back to the resort. It had to beat the death daggers Jaxson shot my way.
He shut off the vehicle and emitted a heavy sigh. I could feel the heat, the anger, the stress brooding in the truck. I didn’t want to sit around and wait for him to erupt at me again. I unlocked the truck door, thrust it open, and unbuckled myself. I spun my legs to the side to jump down when the blanket tangled around me. Wrestling with it, I failed to notice Jaxson had hurried around the truck.
His body trapping mine, my legs tight with him practically straddling me. His hands rested at each side of my hips against the truck’s interior leather as he blocked me from escaping.
“We need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said and pushed at his chest to force him to move, but he was too strong. His hands came up, clasping mine, crushing my hands against his chest, leaning closer.
“I don’t think you mean that,” Jaxson said.
I wouldn’t look at him. I didn’t want to give him any more of my time or attention. “I do,” I said.
“I would never want anything to happen to you, Freckles.” His right hand came up and stroked my jaw and guided my chin up to meet his stare. “I’ve been a jerk, but it’s because I don’t know how to do this,” he said and gestured between us.
“Do what?”
“Be professional.” He leaned his forehead against mine.
My eyes closed. I could smell the sweat against his skin mixed with the special scent that made him uniquely Jaxson.
His fingers tangled in the nape of my neck, bringing my lips closer. He held me in that position, not kissing me, just drinking in my breath, stealing my anger and pain as I felt need overtake us. I wanted him, but I didn’t want my heart broken. Not again. I couldn’t handle it shattering into a million tiny pieces.
“This isn’t professional,” I whispered. My eyelids fluttered open, my gaze heavy. Each breath grew raspy and deep. I wanted him more than I had wanted anything in my life. The worst of it was that I knew what I’d been missing, I’d had a taste of the forbidden fruit, and I wanted more.
“Screw professional.” His lips latched onto mine, hard and forceful with need.
I clutched him tighter and pulled him to me, my fingers tangled in his hair as I drank him in. I wanted him, needed him, craved what only he could offer me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, breaking the kiss, his lips soft and warm caressing my neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh.
I whimpered. He knew just what to do to make my knees weak. Thankfully, I was already seated. I dipped my head, my fingers guided his lips back to mine, our tongues dueled for control, his body pressed tight against mine. I wanted him but was afraid to voice the words, not after what happened.
He pulled back slightly, and his lips trailed a warm soft path to my ear. “I have something to tell you,” he whispered.
“Don’t want to talk,” I said, dragging his mouth back down onto mine. Talking is what got us into trouble. It turned into fighting. This felt good, amazing, in fact, and made my head spin in a wonderful way.
