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“It is.” He watched Wes’ throat bob.
“You hurt her, I’ll fuck you up.”
He nodded firmly. After his freak out, he understood it, but didn’t like it. Didn’t like the way Wes was staring at him. “Got it,” he grit out. Wes’ face stayed hard as they stared at each other.
“Oh no,” Abbie breathed, and Jett’s attention immediately turned to her. She tried sliding off the desk, but both men reached for her. “I need to go to work!”
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, his voice low. “Sit back down. Relax. Eat your chocolate?—”
“Jett, I have to?—”
“No.”
“But I already missed a day last week?—”
“And you’ll miss another day this week,” he growled. “You fainted, baby. I’m not letting you go to work.” Her eyes slid to Wes, and he held his breath, waiting for his reaction.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” she cried, throwing her arm at him. Jett glanced over his shoulder, finding Wes’ brows raised, a small smirk on his face.
“Like what?” he drawled.
“I don’t know! Tell him he’s being unreasonable.” She sent a glare Jett’s way, and his expression hardened.
She shifted on the desk, pressing her legs together as her face flushed.
Yeah, she knew that look. Knew what it meant.
Spanking.
“I agree with him,” Wes said, and Jett’s head snapped to him.
“What?” he and Abbie said at the same time.
“You shouldn’t be working.” His gaze slid to him, and Jett braced himself. “You’ll take care of her? No more yelling? Stressing her out? Accusing her of this shit?”
“No more,” he vowed. “I’ve got her.” He turned back toward her, finding her staring up at him with wide eyes. Eyes that were still full of trust, full of warmth, when they shouldn’t be.
She should’ve sent him away, told him she wanted nothing to do with him. But for whatever fucking reason, she still wanted him. He wouldn’t do anything to change her mind.
twenty-two
She hated to admit she was happy about calling in to work today. She hated working at the museum, but if she wanted to ever actually make money as an artist, she had to work there, had to gain experience so she could be a conservator when she graduated.
Or…
Or she could just sell her art like she’d always wanted to do. She could try to start an online business, take commissions, and have gallery showcases. But no. No. She needed to be realistic. Who would ever want to buy her art? No one, that’s who.
But she still loved painting and drawing. It’s all she ever wanted to do, so she didn’t care how she did it for a living. If it was in the form of restoring someone else’s art or creating her own, she just wanted to have a brush in her hand for the rest of her life.
Still, longing filled her as she stared out the window at the passing scenery. Sometimes her dreams felt so insurmountable, too unobtainable. Sometimes she felt like giving up.
Sometimes she thought about taking her mother up on her offer and moving back home, getting her money, and doing what she wanted with her life. But truly, the thought of that made her nauseous.
“You okay, pretty girl?” Jett asked softly. She glanced at him, smiling tightly as she nodded.
“Yep.” He gave her a look that told her he didn’t believe her, but surprisingly, he didn’t push her.
It shouldn’t have been surprising, though. He’d been quiet since they left his work. Truthfully, she’d been quiet, too. She didn’t know what to make of his outburst, of his accusations. She didn’t like it. She hated to think he thought she was the type of person who could cheat on him.
