chapter 9
Jaxon
I’M IN HER HOUSE.
In.
Her.
House.
What the fuck am I doing?
This is not professional at all, and it’s a stupid move to blur the lines of our relationship. Sure, there’s no rule against us being friends, but anything more is a conflict of interest. We shouldn’t even be friends.
Why am I not treating her like I would any of my other clients? If I ran into them at the store, I’d say hello, ask them how they are, and move on. I wouldn’t linger and chat with them, joke with them, and then follow them back to their house for coffee. I have no idea what I’m doing.
She places a giant mug of black coffee in front of me, and it smells so good, or maybe that’s her.
Fuck.
“Thank you,” I say, bringing it toward me by the handle. “Your house is beautiful.”
It’s spacious and decorated in mainly white and nude colors, with a splash of color here and there. It has a warm, welcoming feeling to it.
“Thanks,” she says, smiling and sitting down opposite me. “I’ve been redecorating ever since I got back. I like the country feel it gives now.”
It’s simple. Classy. Elegant.
Just like her.
There’s a picture of what must be her and her aunt on the fridge, and I look at it and smile. They’re both on the beach, and Scarlett is wearing a wide-brim hat and a smile.
“Any updates on the Valentina thing?” she asks me.
“I keep trying to speak to her, but it’s not going so well,” I explain, shaking my head. “But don’t worry, it just means I’m going to have to go through a more official route and speak to her with her lawyer present.” I pause. “If they ever decide to call me back.”
“And if they don’t?” she asks, amusement passing through her eyes. “Stake out in front of the MC clubhouse and stalk her until they either give in or try to do something to you?”
“If I have to,” I say simply. Not like I haven’t done much worse than that in my time. I don’t like to lose a case, especially when I know my client is innocent. It’s my job to do whatever I need to, and I take my job very seriously. I didn’t get a good reputation by always playing by the rules, or by sitting around and waiting for good things to happen. I go out there and make it happen. I use my contacts, I ask for help when needed, call in favors, I do anything in my power to get what I want. And most of the time it’s legal.
Scarlett looks troubled all of a sudden, her brow furrowed and her lips twisted. “That can’t be safe though, can it? I mean they are a motorcycle club after all.”
I’m trying to save her from prison time, and she’s worried about me doing something she’s paying me to do?
Fuck, she’s cute.
I can tell she’s a person who genuinely cares about people before herself, which makes me want to dig Darren up and kill him all over again. People like her are rare in today’s world and should be protected. We need more beauty in the world like hers, but unfortunately most people damage it instead. Ruin it. It makes me angry just thinking about it.
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me,” I say gently, taking a sip of coffee.
“Can I make you something to eat? I know you haven’t had dinner yet, and it wouldn’t be a problem to make something,” she says, looking down as if she’s feeling a little nervous, shielding those eyes from me. Her eyes give so much away, and it’s as if she’s aware of that, which is why she’s always ducking her head.
“That’s okay,” I say quickly, not wanting to offend her. I feel like her cooking for me is crossing even more boundaries, and I don’t want to do that, even though I’m starving. It’s nice to have her offer though. “I’d better get home. I have the groceries in my car that I need to put away, and biker old ladies to stalk tomorrow,” I say, trying to keep things light.
She grins at that, and a dimple pops up on the right cheek. “At least finish your coffee first.”
She puts some cake on the table, slyly slipping it my way. “I made this today.”
“You keep busy, don’t you?”
She shrugs and sits back down. “I used to work in a library, and then a bookstore. When I went overseas I didn’t work because I was looking after my aunt, but now that I’m back, I don’t know what to do with myself. There’s no point getting a job until this whole ordeal is over, but I’m not used to sitting around all day. So I’ve started baking and cooking new recipes. Started gardening. It keeps my mind busy too. I don’t want to overthink right now, it only makes things worse. I’ve also started doing some volunteer work. I like helping people.”
Right.
She’s on fucking bail. I almost forgot. For a moment, it felt like two people hanging out, just enjoying each other’s company. She’s easy to be around, and when there is silence between us, it’s comfortable.
What the fuck I’m doing here? I shouldn’t be forgetting how we met and why we’re here. It’s not to hang out and have coffee. I should regret coming here, but I don’t. I like being around her.
She looks down at the cake. “It’s good.”
My lip twitches as I reach over and take a piece. As the lemon flavor hits my tongue, I have to agree. “It’s delicious.”
She beams, so happy over such a small compliment. I guess she didn’t hear them a lot when she was with her ex. It makes me want to compliment her until she’s no longer foreign to hearing them. “Best cake I’ve had in a long time.”
Probably the only cake I’ve had in months because I don’t have much of a sweet tooth. I think the last time I had cake was at someone’s wedding earlier this year. And I mean it: hers is better.
“Thank you,” she says, ducking her face, and she smiles wide. “I don’t know about all that, but I’m glad that you like it.”
When she looks back up, our eyes hold, and something passes between us. Something I’m going to pretend didn’t happen. Nope, I definitely didn’t see that in her eyes, and she better not have seen it in mine. We have a professional relationship, and there is no room for attraction. We need to bury that shit right now.
I clear my throat and stand. “I should go home, it’s late. Thank you for the coffee and cake.”
“Okay. Thanks for the company,” she says, standing and walking with me to the door.
Fuck.
She thanked me for my fucking company. She’s obviously alone and doesn’t have anyone to talk to or hang out with. I have my work colleagues, and I can always call my parents for a chat. Hell, if I really wanted, I have a few friends I could call and they’d be there. It seems like she has only her aunt, who is overseas. She hasn’t mentioned any other family. I almost don’t want to leave her alone here. I don’t like the thought of it. That reminds me.
“I forgot to tell you. A man named Joshua will be here tomorrow at ten a.m. to check on the house security. Do you want me to be here so you’re not alone in the house while he’s here?”
I don’t know where that offer came from. I said it before my own brain could even wrap around it.
“I’d like that,” she replies, looking genuinely thankful. She reaches out and touches my arm. “Thank you, Jaxon. For everything. I know you don’t have to do all these things for me.”
I want to tell her someone like her should know kindness. Should expect it. I want to tell her that if she ever needs anything, I’m only a call away. Instead, instinct brings me close to her, and my lips place a gentle kiss on her forehead. She doesn’t flinch. “Lock up. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I leave, making sure the door is closed before I get in the car and drive home.
What the fuck am I doing?