CHAPTER TWO
JASON
“I WAS CURIOUS,” SHE REPLIES, and I try to tamper down the anger I feel at the images of her with any of my guys.
“Curious?” I repeat, trying to stay calm, though I know I’m failing. “Why would you need a meat special?” I ask her, and she scowls with a flippant shoulder shrug that drives me crazy.
“Never mind, Somers,” she scoffs, only adding fuel to the anger by calling me by my last name. “I didn’t know an interrogation was part of hiring—”
“Don’t do that. What are you really asking here, Row?”
“I’m not doing anything. I was just…curious.”
“Curious,” I repeat. The idea of her being curious about my guys, what they did and what they would do for her, makes my skin prickle and tighten with unbridled jealousy.
“Simple curiosity,” she states again, her chin standing stubbornly. I close the small space I had placed between us, not missing the way her dark brown, almost black, eyes widen.
“Ask me anything you wanna know,” I order, my voice sounding too deep in my own ears. I watch her lick her lips. I watch her swallow, and, fuck, if it doesn’t make my cock come to life. “Cat got your tongue, Row your boat?” I tease gently.
“Don’t call me Row your boat, I’m not some stupid teenager anymore,” she whispers. Her eyes stare into mine, then move down to my lips and back up.
“You were never a stupid teenager, Row,” I remind her. “You are still the smartest person I know.” Her cheeks flush at my compliment. Fuck, it makes me want to kiss her.
“Did you really, umm, close up shop?”
“The Meat Market is open from nine to six, Monday through Saturday, babe, like it has been from the day my family opened its doors.”
“You know what I mean.” She stomps, the apples of her cheeks flushing even brighter under the moonlight, and it makes me want to know if her entire body would react the same way.
“Why? You looking to place a special order?” I ask, hating she’s even curious.
“I…”
“Why would a pretty thing like you need to make a meat order from a place like mine, baby?” I ask, stroking the side of her face. Her cheeks pass pink and move onto crimson. When I meet her eyes, I can see I messed up somehow.
“Pretty thing?” Her eyes narrow. “Baby?”
“Row—”
“You are a piece of work, Jason Somers.” She stands stiffly in my arms, pinned against her car, obviously wanting to get the hell away from me.
“I didn’t—”
“You don’t have to make fun of me,” her voice cracks, and it’s my turn to hold still, confused by what she might mean.
“What?”
“We both know you don’t, nor have you ever, thought I was pretty, so you don’t have to be a condescending ass.” She pulls away from me, and I don’t know what to say. How the hell can she think that? If she only knew the truth.
“What…I—”
“I’m turning forty in a couple days—”
“I know that.”
“And I want to have a little fun,” she spits out, shocking the hell out of me.
“Fun,” I rasp; my eye twitches.
“Fun before I move away,” she ends her sentence as if she didn’t just shift my entire world with four fucking words.
“Move?” I ask in a growl.
“Forty and fabulous, not to mention single, I’m ready for an adventure.”
“Like a vacation?” I ask her, but I’m blown away when she shakes her head.
“Do you remember Trish?” she asks, and I search every corner of my mind. It takes a minute before a petite redhead with a great sense of humor pops up.
“Yeah, you went to college together,” I voice as the idea of not having her close kills me slowly.
“Right.” Rocio nods, and I don’t miss the way her eye twitches, right before she stands taller and straighter; an obvious tell when she isn’t being honest. “Well…she’s been begging me to go out and check out Scottsdale.”
“Arizona?”
“Yeah.”
“What would you do there?” I question, knowing there is no way in hell she would leave without a plan. My girl isn’t the type to fly by the seat of her pants.
“She has a custom jewelry shop, and it’s been doing really well. She’s about to open a second location and wants me to be her office manager.” She’s biting her goddamn lip telling me this shit, and I’m getting harder.
“And you were thinking of doing what? A last Chicago hurrah before you leave me?” I ask her, feeling like the wind’s been knocked out of me.
“Jason—” she starts to say before shaking her head. I watch her inky black tresses shift back and forth, and my hands ache to get tangled in them…to pull them as she screams my name. “I’m not leaving you. I mean, look, it’s just a matter of time ‘til you get busy with your next flavor of the month. We would still text and—”
“Are you shitting me right now?” I growl. What the fuck is she even talking about? Flavor of the month? I haven’t gone on a date in over a year with anyone because she’s the only one I want.
“I’m not…” Her eyes fill with tears again, and whatever anger I was drowning in vanishes. The need to make her smile floods me.
“Babe—”
“Dammit! Stop calling me babe!” she bites and steps back. “You never used to call me that, and you sure as hell never pinned me against stuff!” she huffs, and I take a step closer to her, and do just that.
Her beautiful body is caught between her car door and my body. We’re so damn close, the only way to get closer would be to take our clothes off.
Not yet, but soon.
“What? Jason—”
“I have the perfect guy for you,” I breathe out, and it’s not an outright lie. It’s just not the complete truth. I’m just going to keep the fact that I’m the perfect guy for her to myself.
“You do?” her eyes are wide in surprise, but when I stroke the side of her face, she leans into my touch.
“I do.”
“Jason—”
“What do you want?”
“What?”
“What do you want from him tomorrow?”
“What can I…umm…well uh…get?”
“Anything,” I grit; my hard dick presses against her hip.
“How much would it be…don’t they all cost—”
“Call it a birthday gift from me.” Not that she would be with any of my guys. The shop is closed. This is my chance to prove to her how good things can be between us if she gives me a chance.
“You’re going to pay for me to get laid?”
“What do you want?” I ignore her question.
“I thought they didn’t umm…”
“He will.” And fuck, will I ever. I’ll do anything so by the end of tomorrow night, she’ll finally realizes she’s mine. “Tell me what’s your fantasy?”
“Jason, I—”
“Please, tell me,” I say a little softer, leaning my face closer to hers, my lips only a whisper away. Rocio has been in the picture for over half my life, yet I’ve never had a taste of her lips. How is that possible?
Timing.
Our timing has always been off.
First with me fucking around in college, not realizing the amazing woman right in front of me. God, the time I lost. When I woke up from my haze of stupidity, I had to sit on the sidelines as she dated guys who didn’t appreciate her.
About two years ago, our paths realigned, and I thought I would finally have my chance. But time was not my friend once again. With the economy tanking, my grandfather’s loans were called in, and I had to decide.
Not that I was ever one of the guys who went out on dates. Though I did have a standing appointment to accompany Mrs. Baxter every Monday for dinner, but I did that because the lady was sweet, and I never took money from the almost ninety-year-old spitfire who had no one to visit with.
But I’m done waiting. There’s no way I’m going to let her leave.
She just handed me the perfect opportunity to show her how good things can be between us, and I’m not going to lose it.
“Jay,” she moans in a husky whisper, and I lick my lips at how hungry that little fucking sound makes me.
“Fantasy.”
“I don’t want to make decisions,” she blurts, her face now crimson. My cock strains to get closer. She won’t have to choose anything with me. In bed, I will dominate her…own every gram of her pleasure. Over and over.
“You want him in charge?” I swallow, my throat desert dry, and sweat forms at the back of my neck.
“Yes.”
“His dirty little play thing kinda gig or—” I don’t have to say another word with how her eyes flash bright. My sweet little Rocio is a dirty girl. My dirty girl. Just like that, she’s more perfect than I could have ever imagined.
“Tomorrow,” I tell her, and her eyes widen.
“What?”
“A car will pick you up at five.”
“Five?”
“He likes purple,” I share, thinking about her golden skin in that color. Would it be lace or satin? Did it matter if it ended up on the floor?
“Wear something special for him. Listen to the driver’s instructions. Trust him,” I order. “Your man will be waiting for you.”
“My man,” she repeats, a cute look of confusion settling over her face. I can’t focus on anything but the fact that, if this works out, by tomorrow night, she’ll finally be mine. I lean forward, closing the space between us, turning my mouth just at the last moment to kiss her cheek. I let my lips linger longer than they should, tempted to steal a taste of her. Instead, I feel the softness of her warm skin and breathe in her familiar scent.
Soon.
“Be ready by five.” I step away and wink at her, walking straight to my truck, mentally high-fiving myself with what I have up my sleeve.
Time’s no longer going to be my enemy. I’m going after her, and Rocio will know she belongs to me.
ROCIO
Lying in bed, sleep is pretty much elusive, and it has nothing to do with the uncomfortable summer heat.
It’s all my big mouth and Jason Somers’ fault. I grab my phone from the nightstand and scroll down to his number to cancel whoever he thought would be the perfect guy for me. But before I get to his number, my phone dings.
Jason: Are you up?
Maybe this perfect guy couldn’t do it? Maybe he was going to let me out of whatever crazy thing I got myself into?
Me: Yeah
The bubbles pop up, letting me know he started to text. They suddenly stop, and I frown. I’m just about to write him asking him what he wants, when my phone rings, and his face flashes on my screen.
“Hey,” I whisper into the phone.
“You should be sleeping.”
“I should be, but I can’t”
“Why?”
“My AC is acting up again,” I lie. “You should be sleeping. You get deliveries on Thursdays.”
“Jax is taking care of it tomorrow.”
“He is?” The younger Somers brother, Jax, was the carefree one, but he had recently tied himself to a woman, and they were inseparable. I couldn’t see him volunteering for the early delivery they received on a weekly basis.
“He is.”
“He volunteered?”
“Baby, I don’t wanna talk about Jax,” his voice rumbles, and there was that dang baby that leaves me breathless.
“Oh.” I bite my lower lip and find the courage to ask, “What do you want to talk about?”
“You.”
“Me? I’m not very interesting, Jason, you know that.”
“I beg to differ, Row,” his voice rasps and goosebumps fill my skin, making me shift in bed.
“I’m sure you know everything about me.”
“I’m pretty sure I can give you a mile-long list of things I don’t know.”
“You could?” I ask, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. “That’s not even possible, we’ve known one another half our lives.”
“Row, I got a feeling I could spend every day with you the next forty years and still not know everything about you.” His words sound so sincere and achingly sweet, it’s hard not to let myself believe.
“I don’t know what to say.” I sigh.
“Nothing to say when it’s just the truth.”
“What’s going on, Jay?” I ask, wondering what this change in character has to do with.
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t remember the last late-night phone call we shared,” I say softly, turning to my side, my arm under my pillow.
“Really? Because I can.”
“You can?” I whisper, trying to remember.
“Your mom was just out of the hospital, a couple months ago, and you were worried.”
“Jay.”
“Before your mom got sick, it was when you broke up with that dumbass, Matt. About two years ago.”
“Max.”
“Whatever his name was, he was the biggest dumbass you dated.”
“He wasn’t a dumbass, we just wanted different things.” I wanted monogamy, and he didn’t believe in the concept.
“He let you go; he was a dumbass.” He’s gruff and leaves me slightly speechless.
I clear my throat before I continue our conversation, “You’re being sweet, and I don’t know what to do with it.”
“Are you going to wear purple tomorrow?”
“Why purple? How do you even know he will like—”
“Love,” he interrupts me, and my heart starts to thunder away harder in my chest. “He will love you in purple.”
“He will?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Who are you setting me up with, Jason? I thought all your guys quit.”
“I bet you love your neck being kissed.” My breath catches in my throat, and my heart does a somersault. “Bet that’s what would get you to purr like a damn kitten.” A guttural sound from the back of my throat escapes. “Fuck,” he groans, and my breathing picks up. “Those little sounds are going to kill me, Rocio.”
“Jason,” I whisper almost breathlessly, a familiar ache growing between my legs.
“Do you ever think about us?”
“What?” My heart’s stomping in my chest.
“I do. All the goddamn time,” he confesses, and I lick my lips, trying to think of something witty or smart to say.
“Huh?”
“I fucked up.”
“Jay…”
“Fucked up not stepping in and claiming you when I could have.” I sit up in bed, one hand at my chest the other holding the phone to my ear. Is he saying what I think he is?
“Jason.”
“Fucked up before then. I should’ve done something about my feelings for you before I went to college, but I was too stupid and young to get it.”
“Jason”
“I’m done fucking up.”
“What do you mean?” I whisper, my skin filled with goosebumps.
“Been done for a while, Row. I know you don’t know this, but I have been done. Just had to straighten shit out, I couldn’t straighten shit out and do what I was doing and have you in my life like I wanted.”
“Honey, you’re not making sense.” My heart pounds in my chest.
“Good night, baby.”
“Jason, I don’t understand—”
“I know,” he cuts me off, and he sighs. Both of us are silent, and all I can do is wish he was next to me.
“But you will,” he drops ominously, and my heart flutters like it’s grown wings inside my chest.
“Jay.” I whisper his name hoping he doesn’t end the call when he suddenly asks, “Why did you break it off with Brad.”
Brad.
Brad had been the one man who had almost been able to help me forget Jason. He was a good guy, steady and reliable. We met in our late twenties. Both of us were settled into our lives, careers blossoming. We dated for three years. When he proposed, I couldn’t get myself to say yes. He wasn’t Jason. Part of me thinks he knew why and he was okay with me ending things shortly after.
“I…I don’t know…”
“I could have bet money he was going to put a ring on your finger,” Jason adds, and I exhale. I never told him—or anyone, other than my mom—Brad had proposed and I had said no.
“It wouldn’t have worked.” The heart wants what it wants, my mom’s words repeat in my head. My heart has always wanted Jason Somers.
“Like I said, I fucked up.”
“Come over.”
“What?”
“This is stupid!” I blurt out, biting the tip of my thumb, “Are we really talking about this? Us. For the first time in twenty years? Doing it on the phone like some kids with a crush?”
“Rocio—” The tortured sound of his voice makes me wake up completely. I understand now why he’s doing this.
“This is because I told you I was moving.”
“That doesn’t even make sense, and you’re not moving,” he bites, and I frown. Whatever hope I was starting to feel quickly fades away.
“If I do, what does it matter?” I ask him. If he cares like he’s insinuating with all his “I f’ed up” talk, he would be straight up and tell me. Right?
“You can’t leave me.” All I hear is he can’t lose his friend. His buddy. His row, row your boat.
“You are willing to lie to me, throw all this shit around in the middle of the night, all in order to what? Keep your best friend?”
“I would be willing to walk straight into the depths of Hell and back and anything it took, all so I wouldn’t lose my best friend.” I’m too angry to hear the honesty and emotion in his words, so I choose to ignore it.
“Seriously? You throw this at me the night before I’m supposed to meet one of your guys for a night—”
“Don’t,” he clips, and it only riles me up further.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t twist this into something ugly, Rocio.”
“I’m not the one being a dick, laying this on someone in the middle of the night, over the phone, instead of face-to-face, Somers!”
“You want face-to-face?”
“What?” I scowl. Like he would actually come over here.
“Open your goddamn door, Row,” he growls, and I freeze, sitting ramrod straight in bed.
“What?” I whisper. He’s joking. He has to be.
“Open. Your. Goddamn. Door.”
“Jason, it’s after three, it would take you like fifteen to get here—”
“I’m at the door. Don’t make me use my key, Row. You won’t like the consequences.”
“Jay…”
“One.”
“Jay…”
“Two.”
“Fine.”
“I’m not kidding, Row.”
“I said fine!” I huff getting off my bed and sneak a glimpse at myself as I pass the mirror over my dresser, “Just warning you though, Somers—”
“Don’t call me that,” he mutters, and I ignore it.
“If I hear one little thing about how I look like a hot mess, I’m going to remind you it is after three, and I was not expecting company!” I snap into the phone just as I reach the front door and open it wide in one long swoop, not believing he would be standing there.
But he is.
“Fuck,” his whispered curse makes me slightly jump. Olympic gold medal-worthy teams of butterflies flit to life. I take a small step back, still holding onto the doorknob.
“You’re here,” I stupidly point out, wincing at my awkwardness.
“I told you I was.”
“Since when?”
“About an hour before I called you.”
“Oh.” Oh? That’s all I can think to say? I shake my head. “I mean, why?”
“A driver isn’t coming tomorrow.”
“What?
“I’m shit at this,” he mutters under his breath, running his fingers through his dark curls.
“At what?” I ask nervously.
“I’m your man.” He steps forward, and my hand clenches on the doorknob—not to hold him back or because I fear him, but to help keep me up.
“You’re not making any sense—”
“That look in your eyes tells me I am. I was a fucking idiot kid when we met, I’m still not sure how we ended up friends, but fuck me, I’m glad we are.” He’s standing inches away from me, his body visibly tense.
“Jason—”
“The friendship we have…I can’t regret that. Even if it means I lost out on time with you. Row, you know everything about me.”
“Jay…”
“Everything,” he repeats, and his eyes turn soulful. “The good and the dark ugly shit, you know it all.” His hand comes up to my face, and the tender way he touches me makes me tremble. He makes me feel like I’m made of some delicate priceless porcelain. “You know what I’ve done and why.”
“Jason.”
“At first, I didn’t see the beauty, and when I did, you were dating and I thought we were better off friends. When Brad came into the picture and you guys stayed together for so long, I freaked out, Row. Then you ended. I thought I could get in there, show you I was worth taking a shot on even if I was living in New York.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“My Grandpa died, and I came back. Fuck, in those early days, baby, I almost thought it was a sign. It was time to stake my claim.”
“But?” I press, slightly scared of his answer. That had been ten years ago. My heart clenches in my chest at his words.
“The shop was a mess. I had to invest what I’d made in New York into it, and by doing that, I didn’t have anything to offer you.”
“What?”
“So I waited, and two years ago, the economy took a shit, and I had to make a decision.”
“To whore yourself and your guys out?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“I bet it was a tough one to make, Jason. All those women...”
“Rocio, it wasn’t like that.”
“I bet. Not like the idea of countless easy women paying you to give them what you probably would have given for free.”
“Baby—”
“You’ve told me about every woman.”
“Like I said, you know everything. Good and bad. In turn, baby, I know everything about you.”
“He did want to put a ring on it,” I confess, looking him straight in his eyes. My heart dares me to drown in those blue pools.
“What?”
“I said no.”
“Why?”
Dropping whatever common sense I have left, I open my mouth without a second thought, all the while thinking my mom is probably going to do cartwheels at the nonsensical courage I am suddenly donning.
“Because as wonderful as he was…he wasn’t you.”
I don’t even get a chance to blink with how fast he moves into my space. His hands pull me into his body, and I don’t think. Standing on the tips of my toes, my hands immediately search for the back of his head, letting my fingers savor the feel of his hair as our lips crash into one another.
Fierce, demanding to the point of almost punishing, is the only way I can describe our first kiss.
It’s perfect.