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The frown on his sister’s face was small, but heartfelt. “Maybe you worry too much.”
Blake remembered saying exactly those words to his father, and his gut churned.
Their gazes locked, and he went on in a low voice. “Maybe you don’t worry enough.”
After several tense seconds, filled with the sound of the waterfall and five pairs of female eyes on him, his mother reached over and patted Nikki on the hand.
“Take it easy on your brother, Nikki,” his mother said lightly. “I suspect he just hasn’t gotten any lately.”
Three pairs of lids stretched wide at the remark, and he ignored the small, barking cough of surprise from Jax. The Bennington siblings didn’t bat an eye. His mother didn’t believe in a comment being too inappropriate to share. And while he was used to her casual attitude toward...hell, toward everything, it hardly set a good example for the youth among them.
“Why don’t you ask that pretty lawyer out? You know, the one you were talking to at the courthouse?” Nikki said, surprising him with her words. When had Nikki seen Sara? “You two could have the perfect marriage, wear perfect matching suits and have two-point-five children together.” She lifted an eyebrow wryly. “The perfect number, of course.
Blake was intensely aware of Jax’s observant gaze, taking in the family interactions. Nikki and his mother had always been a dangerous combination, just as his father had warned. The two of them with Jax by their side might just do in Blake completely. And the fact that the merry band of estrogen appeared to be training new teenage recruits was alarming.
Taking on his family with an interested audience wasn’t prudent. And Blake was intelligent enough to know when to cut his losses.
“Mom,” he said evenly, “I’d appreciate it if you would refrain from making my social life a public discussion. And, Nikki...” He turned his attention to his sister. “I have enough on my hands with the family I’ve got.”
And after a last glance at Jax, he turned and headed for the dock, grateful his boat, at least, was devoid of difficult women. But the question was, how long would the female-free moment last?
FOUR
When Nikki and her mother had decided to retreat to the kitchen, Jax declined to go, claiming she wanted to relax in the sunshine. She was grateful Dawn and Tracy had accepted their invitation, because with everyone inside, Jax could study Blake, uninterrupted, as he moved about his luxury catamaran parked at the end the dock. The boat contained a glassed-in cabin and a cockpit lined with teak wood and royal-blue cushions. The crisp white sails provided a sharp contrast against the bright blue sky, sunlight dappling the palm-tree-lined, tropical waters of Biscayne Bay.
But the view paled in comparison to her first glimpse of Blake’s mouthwatering physique in bathing trunks and a T-shirt. As far as Jax was concerned, a sharp legal mind should not be paired with a finely cut athlete’s body. Either brains or brawn. It wasn’t fair he had both. Perfect, just like his sister had teased.
Well, all except for the attitude.
His wide shoulders looked even broader stretched beneath a red T-shirt, and the black swim trunks revealed thighs to die for, his well-muscled legs obviously engaged in an ongoing love affair with the treadmill in his home gym. He’d covered the distance to the dock in record time, his retreat most likely fueled by a need to escape the family harassment by the pool. Or maybe he figured she might do something stupid again.
Like touching him.
Jax bit her lip and contemplated the enigmatic man that held her future in his hands, realizing she hadn’t thanked him for his help yesterday. The setback with her car and the news of the board’s decision had been unwelcome distractions. But she needed to rectify the oversight. She refused to feel ashamed of her arrest, but bad manners were absolutely unacceptable.
With a sigh and, unfortunately, something close to eager anticipation, she pushed up from her chair and padded barefoot across the pool deck and onto the warm wood of the dock.
And this time, Jax, keep your stupid, impulsive hands to yourself.
As she strode closer to the boat, Blake continued to swipe the paintbrush along the rail with long, even strokes.
