Jax managed to avoid Sterling until the next evening. He’d passed the day by sorting through some case files and closing them out. Sterling actually had developed a “satisfaction survey” to send to previous clients. Once they sent them back in, Jax closed out their file and sent them a discount referral coupon to pass on to a friend.

Personally he found the idea of offering coupons and referral programs for a bodyguard business kind of stupid. How many people needed a bodyguard or half-assed PI—the half-assed PI was Sterling—in the course of their lives?

Well, more than he’d expected, honestly. Business came in at a trickle most of the time, but the trickle was steady. Come fall when he finally started his new job coaching softball at the middle school, he’d be down to working at Deuces Wild part-time. To his way of thinking, they’d be fine, but he knew Sterling was already putting out feelers for a new part-time employee. The guy was so used to being part of his family’s hugely profitable investment firm that he treated everything he was involved in the same way. Always with an eye to the future.

In the case of Deuces Wild, it was both admirable and asinine.

“We have four clients,” Jax told Sterling that evening when he set three white bags of Chinese takeout on the front counter. “Four. And one of them is Chase’s girlfriend.” He didn’t mention Cass, but really, that didn’t sway the statistics heavily in any case. “Tell me why we need someone else on the payroll when I start school in a couple months?”

“You’re on that again?”

“It’s a valid concern. The only reason I brought you in to be a partner in Deuces Wild in the first place is because Chase went on tour with Summer.”

“Odd how that paperwork stating our full partnership is still being held up at the lawyer’s.” Sterling shot him a bland look. “Wonder why that is?”

Jax knew exactly why, and his name was Chase Dixon. Chase wasn’t ready to do an even three-way split of his burgeoning business with someone he didn’t know well yet. But Jax wasn’t about to get into that with Sterling right now. Chase could clean up his own messes when he got back.

“No idea. So where’s the soy sauce?”

“Uh huh.” Sterling pushed over a couple packets. “Summer will probably be back on tour soon, and that’s not even considering how long she might be out in California cutting her record. Check this out.” Sterling slapped a folded newspaper on the counter and gestured to the headline of a column in the music section. “She’s the focus of this big indie spotlight.”

“What paper is this?” Jax flipped it over. “New York Times. Shit.”

“Yeah. It says she’s on the verge of a record deal and cross country tour.”

“We knew about the possible deal. It’s all Chase talks about. She’s thrilled, as she should be.” Jax rubbed the back of his neck. “Too bad Kyle ended up pulling out of the gig. It was the kid’s big break.”

“That’s another thing.” Sterling dragged over a stool and dug into his double portion of General Tso’s chicken. “He called us yesterday morning.”

“When yesterday morning? I was here. You weren’t.”

“Try eight a.m., brother. You know, when you were still out doing laps with your she-mutt.” Sterling grinned and tugged on his tie.

Despite bodyguarding being a more informal career as a rule—dress pants and wingtips tended to slow a guy down when he had to run like motherfucking hell after some punk—Sterling dressed as if he were in GQ. Suits, ties, slicked back hair. Even a freaking leather briefcase full of files. No wonder he had no trouble bringing in clients. It was hard to see Sterling as anything but utterly capable.

“Yeah, yeah. So what did Kyle have to say?”

“He wants to get one of us to back him up in the fall. He’s thinking of doing his own thing here in town, then maybe branching out. I guess he’s looking to change musical genres too. He’s moving into harder rock and figures that’ll draw a rougher crowd.”

Jax picked up an egg roll and liberally slathered it with duck sauce. “Hmm. So you’re gonna handle that?”

“Actually, I’m hoping our new part-timer will. One of us has to be more focused on growing the business, especially outside this area. There’s no reason we can’t expand more into the city. It just requires legwork and contacts.”

“And time.”

“And time,” Sterling agreed, spreading his napkin across his lap. His custom-tailored pants looked brand new. Unlike Jax’s jeans, which were about a decade old and about to wear through at the knees and thighs. “You’ll be our local muscle while Chase is away, and I’ll take a support role there too. But we need to get someone in here to act as a receptionist. Someone cheap.”

The word cheap was always music to his ears. “Any ideas there, big guy?”

“Yes. A family friend. She’s twenty-two and in grad school. It’d be a perfect job for her while she’s in school.”

“A college-educated family friend from the Hamptons?” Jax grinned. “Oh yeah, I’m sure she’ll be all over wanting to hang out at this dump.”

Sterling forked up rice. “It’s not a dump. Besides, she can help…I don’t know, decorate it a bit or something.”

“Is she in school for design?”

“No. Engineering.”

“Then what the hell makes you think she’ll want to mess with curtains and plants?”

“Isn’t that what women do?”

Jax sighed and shook his head. Sterling was a good guy—the best, actually—but he was hopelessly old school. He didn’t just wear the wingtips, he lived a wingtip kind of life. It wasn’t even that he didn’t think women weren’t capable of doing anything that a man could, more that he didn’t see why they should have to. To him, women were to be spoiled and taken care of and in return, they could handle all of the tasks he couldn’t while he was out raping and pillaging.

Or pencil pushing and schmoozing.

Jax suspected that was why Sterling was also a habitual bachelor. His attitude, no matter how well-intentioned, wasn’t too popular nowadays.

“What’s her name?” Jax asked rather than laugh in Sterling’s face. He suspected the upper crust family friend would take care of that for him.

“Angelina McFee. She’s a good kid.” He frowned. “Well, she was. Lately she’s fallen in with a different crowd, but I’m sure she’ll straighten up with the proper guidance.”

Now Jax did laugh. “And who’s that? You?”

“Certainly not you. You’re the town troublemaker.” Sterling grinned and dug into his chicken.

“No, actually, that was Chase. Technically, I’m the town lothario.”

“Is that word still being used?”

“No, but it doesn’t matter because I’m not it anymore.” Jax saluted his friend with his root beer. “My man, I’m living a pure life now. No more smokes. Hardly any alcohol. No more women.”

“Going monk?”

“No. I’m learning to be more discriminating.” Bright red hair and skin as translucent as a moonbeam flashed into his mind and stayed. The smart mouth that came with her was merely a bonus, as was that haughty thing she did so naturally. God, he’d love to dirty her up good. “Narrowing my focus, you could say.”

“Mmm-hmm. On whom, may I ask?”

“You don’t know her.” Of course Sterling knew her. In fact, Cass even appeared to like Sterling. She liked everyone who wasn’t named Jax Wilder.

“So it’s Cassidy Dixon.” Sterling nodded and pushed the bits of carrot out of his rice. “I figured as much. Good luck there.”

“I never said—”

“You didn’t have to. I can read signals. Besides, it’s obvious she finds you distasteful, which raises the likelihood of your interest to a full hundred percent.”

“Numbers geek,” Jax muttered, returning to his egg roll with a somehow unsatisfying crunch.

Then again, nothing could satisfy him after last night’s episode of let’s watch porn with Cass, followed by let’s hear Cass use a naughty word and get a boner hard enough to hold up her entire building, with the final act of can’t close my eyes all night because she’s sleeping in the next room, wearing her tiny little nightgown and maybe no panties.

Although, really, what were the chances of Cass not wearing panties under her nightgown? He wouldn’t have been surprised if she had a self-locked chastity belt.

Even so, he’d been helpless to do anything but stay awake all night and stare at the ceiling. For God’s sake, he could smell her all over the sheets. Milk and honey, vanilla and classy sex. She’d be incredible in bed. How he knew that in spite of all evidence—shy, prim control freaks usually didn’t turn into wild things in the sack—counted as one of life’s mysteries he didn’t care to explore.

Yeah, that was a lie. He wanted to explore it. If he was proven wrong, then maybe he could go about his daily routine without imagining her in some ridiculously expensive, seductively modest nightgown under her robe. Pearls and lace and a proper businesswoman added up to a whole lot of distraction for Jax, and he couldn’t let anything keep his mind off his main priority.

Keeping her safe.

The smartest thing, all the way around, would be to get it out of his system so he could fully concentrate on the task at hand. Unfortunately he was reasonably certain Cass wouldn’t respond well if he suggested they fuck like bunnies. Even if he let her be on top, since she was the biggest control freak he knew. For valid reasons, sure, but still.

Somehow, one way or another, he’d have to stop imagining her in her robe with wet hair and suspicious eyes. All warm and soft and mistrusting.

Evidently he was a few checkers short of a full set.

“Tell me I’m lying about you and Cass.”

When Jax looked up, he blinked at Sterling’s three-quarters empty plate. “Where’d your food go?”

“I ate it when you were lost in la la land over Cass.” Sterling wagged his fork at Jax. “I have to say, you’re showing remarkable restraint. Normally you’d have carried her off to your cave by now.”

“Hello, she’s Chase’s sister. Only an idiot would go there. We work together.”

“It’s good to see you’re putting the business first.”

“Not only that, he’s my best friend.” Jax figured he’d keep on listing reasons to stay far away from Cass until he convinced himself.

“Agreed. It’s admirable of you to tread so carefully with her. She’s been through a lot, what with Russ and then her ongoing health problems.”

Jax grumbled and finished off his egg roll. “Her health problems are under control. She’s on medication to regulate her heart rate. She’s fine.”

But Sterling had a good point. Most of the time he managed not to think of the arrhythmia that had dictated a lot of Cass’s actions over the years. She’d had the problem since childhood, due to a non-fatal issue with her heart, but the arrhythmia caused pain and shortness of breath and she’d had to learn to modify her activities to limit episodes. In recent years, Chase said she’d turned to some sort of procedure with electric shock pads in the hospital, along with meds. As long as she kept her stress levels under control and stuck to her diet and exercise routine, she was usually fine.

But did that mean she shouldn’t have sex? If it was done right, it definitely upped a person’s heart rate to the danger zone. Though she’d been with Russ, he doubted that counted. He probably didn’t know how to get a woman off with a roadmap and a flashlight.

It wouldn’t be like that with him and Cass. He’d rock her world in ways she’d never heretofore experienced. Which meant he could look but not touch. He wouldn’t risk her health or discomfort, no matter what.

Especially not now, when he shouldn’t be thinking about anything but those letters and how he could protect her. He intended to get the notes back from her tonight and send them off to his cop buddy in Philadelphia to see if he could get any clues from the paper or letter cutouts. Then there was always DNA. Jax was almost positive her stalker was Russ, and if the man knew what was good for him, he’d back off after their little chat last night. But if he didn’t, Jax would work on tightening the noose around his scrawny turkey neck.

Jax tipped back his root beer. Her well-being came first and that was that. He wasn’t the least bit disappointed either. In fact, that sensation in his gut that felt like milk curdling had to be gratitude for a dodged bullet. Getting involved with your buddy’s sister qualified as ingredient number one for a disaster.

“My point is, you’re a decent guy, Jax. People think you react without thinking. That’s not so. If you did, you would’ve already nailed—”

“So what about you?” Jax interjected. “Who are you seeing?”

It was kind of shitty to turn the spotlight on Sterling, since it was probably a sore subject. The guy had been single for a year or two, ever since his last serious girlfriend had dumped him via text message. But really, did he have to…hammer it home about Cass? Yeah, he was a saint because he wasn’t sleeping with her. Or even overtly trying to throw game her way. Maybe tonight he’d look down and see a halo on his dick when he was lying in the bedroom next to hers.

“I’m committed to my career.” Before Jax could laugh at that, Sterling moved on. “I have another idea to drum up business.”

“No, I won’t pose naked in the window.”

Sterling barely cracked a smile. “We can outsource to clubs who need temporary security. There are plenty in the city, and we haven’t properly harvested your and Chase’s star power. People will hire both of you simply because of who you are. If we leverage your notoriety, we’ll start to get more referrals.”

“Notoriety? Who are we, old school Miley and Kanye? Chase is Miley, by the way.”

Sterling barely cracked a smile. “Perhaps that was an unfortunate choice of words.”

“Perhaps,” Jax mimicked. “So basically you’re suggesting Chase and I should sell autographed pictures to try to keep our business afloat? How about if we sell signed miniature bats? Or offer chances to sit on our laps like fuckin’ Santa?”

“I think your fans would prefer a size larger than miniature, but one must work with what one has.”

Jax gazed at Sterling’s placid expression for a long moment, then threw his head back and laughed, long and loud. “Jesus, man.”

Sterling toyed with his fork, briefly pausing his rapid rate of food inhalation. “How do you suggest I do it?”

“What? The business stuff? I’m busting your balls. You know what you’re doing in that area way more than me and Chase ever will. We’ll do what we have to do to make Deuces Wild a success. We might bitch a lot, but we’ll do it.” Jax rolled his eyes and squirted soy sauce over his white rice. “At least I’ll do it, since Chase will probably manage to be on tour for the rest of his natural born life.”

“No. I mean…how do I—Ah, fuck it.” Sterling pulled a card out of his wallet and pushed it toward Jax. “What do you think?”

“Your sole mate? Find the one person chosen for you through precision scoring? What the hell is precision scoring?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t tried it yet. But it seems legit. I researched the company. It’s owned by a J.P. Wallace out of Miami, the owner of several other successful dating ventures and—” Sterling stopped. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You ran some kind of deep probe on a matchmaking site? Hell, dude, if you need to get laid that bad and don’t like the bar scene, check out fuckbuddytonight.com. Much quicker results.” The faint stain of color in Sterling’s cheeks might’ve amused Jax if he hadn’t been morally against kicking a dog when it was down. And this one was belly up, legs flailing. “Okay, okay,” Jax said, examining the card before turning to his laptop. “Let’s check it out.”

“You certainly do not have to check it out. It’s for me to peruse at my leisure. I just wanted your opinion.” He exhaled. “I don’t want the same thing that happened with Lucy to happen again.”

“You’re looking for your lobster,” Jax mused, pulling up the site.

“Excuse me?”

“I saw an old episode of Friends on cable last night.” When he was lying in Cass’s guest room, counting sheep and repeatedly getting stuck on number sixty-nine. “Phoebe said Ross couldn’t get over Rachel because she was his lobster. Or he liked lobster. Eh, hell, if I know. Some BS about lobsters and women and how it’s not enough to get the juiciest piece if it’s not the exact right piece for you.”

Sterling cleared his throat and set aside his napkin. “You know, Wilder, for you that was surprisingly deep.”

Jax grinned and checked his watch. “Yeah, well, I’ll impart my wisdom on you for another half hour, then I gotta split. I have to stop by Mom’s and help her out with some stuff before Ca—I mean, before I have to go out.”

“Curious how you were talking about lobsters and now I smell a fish.” Sterling dragged his stool around Jax’s desk so they could both peer at the computer and the array of smiling women there. “She’s pretty.”

“Hairy upper lip and crazy look in the eyes. No go.”

“You have a broken pixel.”

“Your pixel will get broken if you try to plow that. Sorry, man. Drive thru.”

Sterling laughed. “Why did I ask you for help with this?”

“Clearly, sir, you enjoy a side of pain with your masochism. Now shut up so I can find you a woman to fu—”

“Jax. If I wanted merely that, would I be on this site?”

“Desperation knows no bounds.”

“Speaking from experience, my man?”

“No.” Jax faced the screen. “You’re running out of time. I’m outta here in twenty-five.”

It took forty-five, and another twenty minutes to reach his ma’s since he stopped at the store on the way to pick her up some fresh bread and a quart of milk, and then oh hell, why not a bouquet of sunflowers too. It took some juggling to balance the bag and the flowers on his lap on his bike, but he did it. At least it wasn’t raining anymore. Actually, last night’s rain and gloom had turned into a pretty nice day today.

That fact was driven home to him when he roared down his ma’s street and saw a strange man bent over in the front yard, examining her bushes. His ma stood at his side rubbing his back, as if he either had lower back pain or if she was…flirting.

He’d never wished lower back pain on someone before, but if it meant he wouldn’t have to deal with a new daddy at the age of thirty, so be it. And yes, his selfishness was creeping through and he’d check it later when he wasn’t feeling grouchy as hell about the whole Cass situation. Between her stalker—goddamn Russ—and Jax’s case of blue balls, he wasn’t at his best. And now, his ma had probably found herself in the orbit of some gold digger who knew she had a rich son who spoiled her rotten.

The two people on the lawn jumped apart when he roared up the drive and killed the engine. He swung his leg over the bike, prepared to launch his offense right.

And turned to face a grinning Dale Dixon.

Holy good frigging Christ. His mom was cozying up to Cass and Chase’s dad? Who was fresh from rehab and probably looking for some action?

Brain bleach, stat.

“Son.” Dale opened his arms wide, obviously expecting Jax to rush forward and give him a big ol’ hug. “It’s so good to see you. Mr. Big Shot Baseball Player. I’m so proud of you.”

He was, Jax could tell. That pride practically beamed out of his eyes. And that above all else was what made him move forward to catch the man who had stood in for his own father in a hard hug, crushing the flowers and the milk and most of his misgivings.

Strong offense, right. Not so much.

“Hi, Dale. It’s great to have you here. You home again?”

“I sure am.” Dale stepped back and gestured to Jax’s mother, who stood at his side looking sheepish. But there was no mistaking the fact that she’d traded her faded housedress for a bright pink sweater and jeans. “Your lovely mama here invited me over for a nice cup of tea and some toast. We’ve been planning this day for weeks, and lemme tell you, boy, it feels good.”

Jax might’ve joined in with Dale’s hearty laughter if he wasn’t so busy narrowing his eyes at his mother. “Weeks? How’s that?”

“Oh, we’ve been pen pals.” She laughed and tipped her chin up at Dale. “Isn’t that right? They checked over the packages I sent though, to make sure they weren’t liquor.”

“Or no pornographic materials.” Dale nudged her arm and they chuckled.

Jax, however, was not chuckling. What the hell was this? Did the universe want to see his balls end up in his abdominal cavity? Which was damn sure going to happen if he had to spend even more time with Cass if their parents had a…thing.

She could end up as his sister.

And that, sweet Mary, was not happening. He’d nip this little petunia in the bud. Gently, but firmly.

“Does Cass know you’re home, Dale? I bet she’d love to see you.”

A shadow crossed his face, and Jax was pretty sure it wasn’t from the movement of the sun. “I called her, but she’s so busy with that store of hers. She works herself to the bone. If she was still at home, I’d get to see her, but now she’s living above the shop and running herself ragged.”

Jax had wondered why Cass had hurried up to move out of her family home a few months ago. Not that she wasn’t old enough to—she was in her late-twenties, so it was definitely time—but she’d seemed so determined to clean up the space above Triple Scoop as soon as possible that he’d wondered where the fire was.

Now he knew. She’d been trying to get away from her father.

“And Chase,” Dale continued, shaking his head. “I’m not sure if he’ll ever be back home. I know he’s off with his girl, but he’s always been full of that wanderlust.”

“Full of something,” Jax agreed. Right then, he could’ve used one of Chase’s no-nonsense smacks upside the head. “But trust me, he’ll be back soon. We have a business that says he will.”

“Yes, Jax and Chase are running a bodyguard agency together. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Dale rubbed his bearded jaw. Despite the tension lines around his mouth, the truth was the man looked better than Jax had ever seen him. Bright smile, clear eyes. Lean and fit, without a hint of the beer belly that had plagued him in recent years. “That is wonderful,” he echoed after a moment. “Don’t suppose you’d like to come inside and sit down with your mama and me and tell me all about that?”

He didn’t, not really. But it was early and Cass wouldn’t be out of work for hours yet. Besides, it really would be nice to catch up with Dale. He hadn’t seen him in years. It had been even longer since he’d seen him sober.

A cynical man would doubt that sobriety would last. It hadn’t ever before. That same cynical man might want to warn his mother away from getting too involved with someone who’d proven himself to be inconsistent at best. Dale’s last wife had been half his age, for God’s sake, with fake breasts the size of cannons and a love of online gambling. Hardly long-term stable wife material. The most likely answer was that the old dog hadn’t learned any new tricks, but right now Jax wanted to believe in what he saw in front of him.

Besides, didn’t Dale deserve some family to give him a homecoming? If his own biological kids weren’t around or interested, he and his mom could stand in. The two families had been in and out of each other pockets for so many years that Jax couldn’t fairly begrudge his mother wanting to be…sociable.

Yes, that was a good word.

“Sure.” Jax smiled and started walking with them up his mother’s tidy, flower-lined walk. “I have time.”

For an entire week, she’d been riding the knife’s edge of sexual frustration. She could trace it back to one particular event, precisely one week ago on the couch in her living room. She’d watched porn with a certified bad boy, and ever since, her lady bits had been singing a three-part-harmony of desperation.

Tonight she’d finally sate her totally inappropriate urges. He’d offered her a chance for solitude that hadn’t presented itself once in the last seven days of being polite yet distant, of being grateful yet not too clingy.

Nothing had happened with her stalker, and during these lulls, she always began to think that maybe it was over. Perhaps the trouble had passed. An annoyance, for sure, but no harm, no foul.

Every day she’d done everything she could so that Jax would feel comfortable spending a night at his mom’s and giving her a blessed night to herself. Alas, he didn’t take the bait. He always appeared at the shop’s closing time to do his duty and they talked about their days with all of the awkwardness of old family friends who’d watched porn and eaten ice cream together.

Now every time she took out her ice cream scoop, she thought of his sounds of pleasure as he’d sucked on his spoon. While she’d imagined sucking on other things, like that office girl in the movie.

It wasn’t like her in any shape or form. Which meant the time had come for her to attack her broken orgasm reflex guerilla-style. No more messing around.

Thank God he was running late.

As soon as Jax had said he’d run into an inevitable delay and wouldn’t be to her place until after eleven, she’d begun plotting her hour of personal satisfaction. She’d left the shop a few minutes before closing, leaving the end-of-shift tasks in her part-timer, Curt’s, capable hands, and hurried upstairs. She’d locked herself in the apartment, certain that Jax would knock rather than use the key she’d given him so as not to frighten her, and made a beeline for her bathroom. Instead of starting a load of laundry as she normally would have, she’d tossed her clothes willy-nilly in the hamper, scrubbed off her makeup and hopped in the shower. All the while employing every technique of positive thinking she knew.

She would achieve full lift-off. All thrusters operational. God knew she was horny enough. That porn fest had actually been a good thing, since she knew now that she was visually oriented. The theory would be tested again shortly.

After she finished showering, she dressed lightly in her chemise. The bulky robe could wait until Jason arrived. Then she walked around her place, making sure everything was locked and secure before she gathered her supplies. A single candle, some alcoholic enhancement, the toy she’d locked, not in her nightstand drawer, but hidden beneath the quilt in the chest at the foot of her bed. Summer loved to dig through her nightstand way too often for Cass’s red hot mints. There was no way she’d leave a vibrator there for her best friend to tease her about.

She’d definitely tease her if she could see how nervous she was tonight.

This was no big deal. People prepared for nights of romance all the time. Her night—okay, hour—happened to be dedicated to romancing herself, that was all.

She sipped from her glass of rosé and smothered a grin. Best of all? She already knew her date would definitely put out.

Once she was back in her bedroom, she set down the half-full glass of wine on her nightstand, lowered the lights and drew the blinds. Then she turned down her bedspread, slipped between the cool sheets that felt like heaven against her damp, flushed skin—she knew she shouldn’t risk the increased heart rate, but scalding showers were practically her only vice—and grabbed the remote. She’d flipped to the appropriate channel when she remembered she hadn’t locked her bedroom door.

A hidden impulse to be naughty caught hold of her and held. Screw it. The rest of the place was already locked down like Fort freaking Apache. She’d only be a few minutes.

She sincerely hoped.

It took her a minute to find the right channel. She glanced around as she set the remote aside, half-expecting to see a face at the slice of window still revealed by the gap in the blinds. That was partly the stalker thing and partly her inhibitions.

A few more sips of wine and a couple of minutes of discreet, under her lashes porn watching and she wasn’t feeling as inhibited anymore. God, the guy was doing this growling thing. It was so sexy. She wished she could turn it up. That sound would get her off all by itself.

Heck, why not turn it up? She was all alone and would be for a minimum of another half hour. Jason wasn’t due to arrive yet.

She bumped up the volume a tad and with another surreptitious glance around, slipped her hand under the covers while she studied the action on the TV. This one wasn’t quite as hot as the week before, though she knew that didn’t have a thing to do with the fact that she was solo rather than with Jason. He was…superfluous. The guy onscreen, however, was not. He’d oiled up his body and whew, what a body it was. Especially when he was using it to power between the woman’s creamy thighs with such force that all she could do was whimper.

Cass’s fingers crept closer to the heart of her, slipping over the folds of her sex. She hadn’t bothered with panties. The silk of her chemise rubbed over her nipples as she shifted to touch lower, fighting impatience when she found herself barely wet. It figured. With Jax, her tiny panties had barely been able to contain her excitement. When she actually had a chance to diffuse the months of tension she’d carried around, she couldn’t prime the pump.

She slid her fingers up and down, unwilling to give up so easily. Maybe she should skip straight to the vibrator. She didn’t have a ton of time to mess around. Reaching for it, she flipped it on and pressed it tentatively to her disinterested clit. A pleasant jolt zinged through her and smiling, she concentrated on the screen. Maybe this would work after all.

Then the power went out, plunging the room into silent darkness.

She muffled a scream and jerked up in bed, her gaze wheeling in every direction at once. Her heart was beating so loud that she couldn’t hear over it. Was that a creak outside the door? Ming. Her cat was out there. If someone was in the apartment, she couldn’t leave her out there.

Swinging her legs over the bed, she rose and padded soundlessly to the bedroom door before quickly locking it. Then she pressed her ear against the wood. Nothing. A branch scraped against the window and she jumped a mile, realizing with a flood of relief that the wind was wailing. The power outage probably wasn’t anything but a consequence of an oncoming storm.

She debated heading out to look for Ming and rejected the idea since she didn’t have a worthwhile weapon. Ming was smart. She’d hide. This wasn’t some horror movie and she wasn’t a dim-witted heroine. She’d wait there and call for help.

Sucking in a breath, she turned to head back to grab her phone off the nightstand—and stumbled over something. She threw out her hands to brace her fall as she hit the floor, barely smothering her cry by biting down hard on her lower lip. Ow, ow, ow. She rolled over and clutched her jarred knee, remembering belatedly the candle she’d lit in the bathroom and forgot to bring into the bedroom. Up she went, limping, into the next room. She snatched the candle and turned back, nearly stumbling again when the lights and TV turned back on.

“Dammit.” The rarely used curse word tasted great on her tongue so she used it again before she blew out the candle and set it on the nightstand.

She moved to the door and putting her back to it, lifted her phone. But instead of calling the cops, she called Jax. Why, she didn’t know. All she knew was the sound of his concerned voice flowing into her ear made her squeeze her eyes shut tight. Her heart was rampaging so fast she feared she couldn’t speak.

“Cass?” At her silence, he tried again. “Cass, baby, what is it?”

“Power. Lights. Off.” God, now she was wheezing. So much for having this whole stalker situation under control.

“That was me. Jesus, sorry, I’m upstairs in the attic. Tiny as hell up here. I barely fit.”

Normally she would’ve groused at his verbal dart—weren’t all attics tiny?—but she was too busy wheezing to explain that the building had been rehabbed into commercial space and she hadn’t had the money to modernize every part.

“I didn’t realize the power went off. I must’ve flipped the switch when I was putting the new door on the fuse box. I checked on your exterior security then moved inside. Are you okay? You’re panting.”

No, she really wasn’t. Of all the times for her arrhythmia to act up, this wasn’t it.

“I’ll be right down. Hang in there.”

She clicked off and unlocked the bedroom door before she shuffled back to her bathroom. It was nerves, plain and simple. Easily handled. She took her pillbox down from the medicine cabinet in case she needed to take an extra dose and counted how many pills were left.

God, she’d forgotten to take them that morning. She never forgot.

Splashing water into a cup, she swallowed the meds then chased them with water. By the time she’d braced her hands on the sink and hung her head to try to drag slow, calming breaths into her lungs, Jax was crashing into her bedroom, slamming the door against the wall in his haste.

“Cass. Baby, where are you? Cass, dammit.” He charged into the bathroom and took one look at her before sweeping her into his arms. “I’ll get you help,” he murmured against her temple, carting her into the other room. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. God, I’m sorry.”

“Jax. Stop.” Weakly, she pressed on his shoulder, grasping both when he didn’t stop moving. “I’m okay. I took my…pills. Just put me on the bed—” She broke off and tried to relax, imploring him with her eyes.

“Okay, okay. Down you go.” He swiveled back to the bed and carefully set her down on the mussed comforter. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go to the hospital?”

“No. No.” She swung her legs over the side and pushed her head between her knees, inhaling slow, steady draughts of air. Within a couple minutes, the manic fluttering in her chest began to ease, but she stayed down, making sure the attack was under control.

The entire time he stroked her back. Up, down. Gentle circles that relaxed her seizing lungs.

Eventually the panic that came with an unexpected episode started to recede. Unfortunately, embarrassment came hot on its heels. Classy. She was bent over in her skimpy chemise with her ears between her legs. Wearing no panties.

The heat pumping out from his body through his jeans felt too intimate against her hip. Did he have to sit so close? She jerked up and tried to move aside, needing to put some space between them.

“Where’s the fire?” He pulled her against his side, brushing her tangled hair away from her face. “Sit a minute. Get your color back.”

What was he talking about? Her cheeks were burning. She had to be the color of a strawberry. Especially as he cupped her chin with his other hand to peer into her eyes. “Okay?” he asked so tenderly that her throat swelled. She wasn’t used to having someone take care of her after an attack. It was…nice.

And scary as hell.

Nodding, she pushed against his thigh to try to get enough distance to gain her feet. She wasn’t quite coordinated yet. The arrhythmia almost always sent her into a panic attack and afterward, she was always shaky for a few.

Or more than a few, if he wouldn’t stop looking at her like that. His gaze stayed riveted on her face with occasional brief sidetracks to what she was wearing. Lingering on her practically exposed cleavage and bare thighs. Warming both with merely his attention.

Unable to fight the urge, she tugged up her top with one hand and pulled down her hem with the other. “I’m fine.” Thank God her voice was returning to normal. “The power outage spooked me. I’d forgotten to take my pills today.”

“This happens often?”

She shook her head. “No. Not in a really long time. I’m usually really good at managing my stress.”

His jaw clenched. “Dammit, I’ll handle this situation for you. Be sure of that.”

It took all her effort to give him a weak smile. “Wasn’t your handling it what caused the outage in the first place?”

“I wanted a lock on your fuse box so this wouldn’t happen. It’s a small precaution and there are other ways of tripping the electricity, but I’m not taking chances. I’ve been outside checking on the windows and doors. You could stand to trim some of the shrubbery near the stairs, but otherwise you’re good. I started the interior scan tonight.”

“You’re going to a lot of trouble. It’s kind of you.” Why was it so hard to thank him for anything? She could blame Russ for her being wary of men in general. That didn’t explain why Jason put her so on guard. The guy was a reformed player, yes. She wasn’t trying to sleep with him, so what was the problem?

Unless the problem was that she wanted to sleep with him, and she doubted his motivations for helping her as much as she doubted her own for desiring him. She shouldn’t use him for a confidence boost after the train wreck that was her ex. And he shouldn’t be flirting with her and being so damn nice in order to run roughshod over her world under the guise of guarding her.

She’d been guarded so damn long. From life, most of all.

“I’m not doing it out of kindness.” He gripped her chin tighter. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

She tried not to sigh. More than anything, she ached for him to see her as her own person. Not careful, cautious, prudish Cass. Not Chase’s baby sister. Not a doll he needed to protect.

But she’d asked for his help. Now she had to let him offer it.

“I know. I appreciate it, Jason.” She did, more than she had words to express. Especially right now.

“You called me Jax before. I think it slipped out.” Smiling faintly, he smudged his thumb over her cheekbone, his own breathing coming faster than was strictly necessary. He’d barely exerted himself. But his chest was rising and falling almost as fast as hers. Faster even. The fingers under her chin flexed, tipping her upward. Close, closer. His lips parted, mirroring her own.

And then moaning sounded behind him, the program she’d been watching kicking back into high gear. She’d heard the voices onscreen before, but she’d ignored them in favor of, oh, trying to breathe.

It was impossible to ignore them now.

Jason glanced over his shoulder, his furrowed brow clearing with a quirk of his lips. “Cozied up with a little late night TV action, hmm?”

The heat climbed up her neck, flaming into her face. “I was changing channels when the power tripped,” she muttered, knowing how lame it sounded.

He didn’t appear to be listening. Letting her go, he walked around the bed and picked something up.

Something long, pink and plastic. Oh dear God.

“Give me that.” She lurched toward him and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, pulling hard enough to drag him into her chest. Although he seemed to move forward deceptively easy. As if he wanted her to manhandle him.

“I don’t think so.” The sweet Jason of a couple of moments ago disappeared behind his smirk. He lifted his arm and held the vibrator easily out of her reach. “Not until you admit what was really going on in here. You weren’t channel surfing. This didn’t pop out of your drawer.”

She cocked her head, surprised to realize that the seizing in her lungs had completely stopped. He’d sat with her and talked her down and now he was distracting her, exactly the right combination to shorten her episode.

Most importantly? He wasn’t treating her like a breakable sick person. Her family and Summer tended to act as if she’d shatter if they pressed her too hard. His eyes were hot and his smile was cocky, but he was teasing her instead of wanting to bundle her up in a blanket and suggesting she rest in a dark room.

That above all else had her backing off and giving him a slow smile. Tonight she didn’t want to play the role of the fragile woman who needed protection. She didn’t want to chase elusive, shadowy pleasure that ended as soon as it began.

She wanted the sure thing. Jason.

They were adults and it didn’t have to be more than sex. He was an expert at that, after all. They’d do it and that would be that. Then they could concentrate on what was really important—finding out who was harassing her. If that was even still a problem anymore. Things had been quiet on that front for a bit. She could hope.

After she’d sated her curiosity in his direction and they’d closed the case, he’d go back to being Chase’s irksome friend. Problem solved. It was an easy solution to her need for stress relief and a healthy distraction from work stress and this ridiculous stalker situation. And if it finally killed the inconvenient attraction she sensed wasn’t one-sided, even better.

Jason didn’t do repeats, so she wouldn’t have to worry he’d want more than she intended to give. They were fundamentally unsuited in practically every way, but this once, she ached to explore the wildness that lurked in his eyes.

Basically, he was the perfect one night stand. It was way past time she had one. He’d probably be the type to push her to her knees first thing, but hell, it had been a good long time since she’d given a blowjob. Her gaze flickered to the sizeable bulge behind his fly and back up to his narrowed eyes. Obviously she really needed to get laid, since even the thought of wrapping her mouth around him was turning her on and she’d never been one to particularly like sucking sausage.

“Okay, you win.” She gave him another smile, sultrier now. Her belly was jumping like it was full of sparking live wires, but he’d never know. “It turns out that I’ve been really tense lately.” She took a step forward and walked her fingers up his tight abs, suddenly hungry to see all the ripped flesh under his snug T-shirt. “Maybe you can help me out with that?”

He stared at her so long that her throat closed. Oh man, had she read this all wrong? Was he really not into this at all? Maybe he just saw her as Chase’s annoying brat of a sister. Fun to tease, but not sexual material. Not someone he wanted to…be with, even for an hour or two.

In the humming silence between them, moans sounded from the TV, followed by the unmistakable sounds of flesh slapping together, hot and slick. A trickle of moisture slipped down Cass’s thighs and she fisted her hand against Jason’s tensed stomach. He’d turned into stone, silent and unresponsive.

Message received.

A bubble of hysterical laughter threatened to escape. Oh God, she’d been turned down by one of the town’s biggest manwhores, supposedly reformed or not.

“Okay then,” she said shakily, casting her gaze around the room so she didn’t have to look at his face. To see the rejection there. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a few moments alo—”

“Like hell.” He cupped her shoulders in his massive hands and drew her up to her tiptoes, allowing her one frantic moment to glimpse the drowning heat in his eyes. His cheeks were flushed and a bead of perspiration clung to his temple. He looked like he’d fought a war…and lost.

She understood the feeling.

“You want this?” His voice was a rumble of sound, skating over nerve endings already edgy with arousal.

Normally she had an answer for everything. But now, when it mattered most that she take control and show that she knew exactly what she wanted, she couldn’t do anything but nod.

“Remember that,” he rasped. “You came to me, Cass.”

Before she could puzzle out what he meant, he slanted his mouth over hers.