Fire & Ice

 

“Knock, knock,” Jackson called down the hall.

I pushed up from my reclined position on the couch and hastily ran my fingers through my hair as he entered the room.

“Jax, hi, I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“It was a spur of the moment thing.”

He leaned over and kissed me softly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Do you even know how to be spontaneous?”

“Is that a challenge?” His eyes lit up with mischief. It was an emotion that should have looked out of place on him but was oddly irresistible instead. “I think that’s a challenge. Come on.”

Jackson grabbed my hand and started dragging me toward the garage. He stopped to pull a spare set of keys from their hiding place, then continued on.

“Where are we going? I don’t have my purse or shoes . . .”

“Do you even know how to be spontaneous?” he parroted back in a high voice that sounded nothing like me.

“Not really.”

He opened the passenger door to the Mustang. “It’s time to change that, then. Get in.”

I slid onto the cool leather seat and watched as Jackson rounded the hood while tossing the keys up and catching them behind his back. When he started the engine, he revved it several times for good measure, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his unexpected antics.

“Are we going drag racing?”

His grin was carefree. “If I knew where we could do that, then I would say yes.”

He pulled out of the garage and onto the street, the engine growling as he accelerated to the speed limit in record time.

“Should we let Knox know we took the Mustang?”

Jackson winked. Winked? “He’ll figure it out.”

“You’re kind of freaking me out with this whole lighthearted thing.”

“Only Theo and Liam are allowed to be fun? Shouldn’t I get a turn?”

“That remains to be seen.”

My words were delivered with all the solemnity I could muster while thinking that Jackson should absolutely let loose more often. If this was a preview of what he would be like without the weight of his Zenith role on his shoulders, he needed a vacation, at the very least. In the meantime, I could try to find ways to encourage this side of him, even if that meant challenging him to be impulsive now and then.

He drove along West Cliff Drive, and I half-wondered if he would keep going until we reached the aquarium in Monterey. But, as we reached the outskirts of Santa Cruz, he pulled into a gravel parking lot with one other car, a small hut, and several picnic tables.

I read the sign and laughed. “Snow cones?”

“They’ll cure whatever ails you. At least, that’s what Uncle always said when I was having a bad day.”

I zipped my thin hoodie. “Isn’t it a little late in the season for sugary ice?”

“We live on the beach. Snow cones are a year-round treat.”

Jackson pointed at my bare feet. “Stay there.” Then, he jogged around to my door and bent down and scooped me up, depositing me on top of a picnic table.

“What flavor do you want?”

I squinted at the sign, unable to make out the options. “Surprise me?” Noticing a painted piña colada on the side of the hut, I called out, “No coconut!”

Jackson returned a few minutes later with two overflowing cups of ice, one blue and one orange. “Blue raspberry or fuzzy navel?”

“Hmmm. I guess I’ll go with fuzzy navel, even though I’m not sure what that is.”

“Good,” he said, handing me the cup and sitting next to me on the table. “Blue raspberry was always my favorite.”

“Because it’s blue?”

He took a bite, considering my question with a little too much concentration. “Apparently so. It doesn’t even taste like raspberry.”

I placed a large spoonful of the sugary concoction in my mouth, and it went straight to my head. “Owww. I forgot how much brain freezes hurt.”

After taking a smaller bite, I smiled. “That’s actually really good. Peach and orange?”

“Yep.”

“Are you going to let me try yours?”

“What’ll you give me for it?” His focus slipped to my mouth, and heat shot through me despite the cool temperature.

“I’ll, uh, let you taste mine.”

Jackson’s smile turned predatory, and I ducked my head in embarrassment when I realized what I’d said. “My snow cone.”

“Nope, that’s not going to do it.”

I forced my head up and boldly locked my gaze with his. “Is there something else you want?”

He didn’t answer, instead touching his cold lips to mine. He urged my mouth open and gently sucked on my tongue before pulling back and licking his lips. “Mmmm. Maybe I like fuzzy navel after all.”

“Your tongue is blue,” I stammered, not able to think of anything intelligent to say.

He fed me a bite of his snow cone. “Now yours is, too.”

We sat there, shoulder-to-shoulder, and finished eating in companionable silence. I tried to figure out when I’d finally evolved from being wary around Jackson to relaxed—when he wasn’t kissing me, at least—but I couldn’t pinpoint a particular moment in time.

Maybe it started with our first date? That was one of the few times he’d opened up to me about his past, and he’d even taken my criticism of his treatment of Theo and Chase in stride.

Or, was it before then? The day he revealed Zenith secrets and let me in on a Team Jaguar assignment?

I still had moments of doubt, times I wondered whether he really wanted me, or if I was merely convenient. One of the only girls aware of his secret lifestyle. But, then he would look at me with those intense blue eyes, and I felt certain that I was more to him. That we had a connection I never expected but was beginning to understand. Beyond our love of books and tragic childhoods, Jackson and I . . . clicked.

“What do you think about spending the evening at my place?” he asked in a soft tone. “I’m not ready to take you back to the loft.” The words and your roommates were left unspoken, but I discerned his meaning, nonetheless.

“I’d like that,” I answered quickly, not needing to consider it. I’d been trying to figure out a way to spend more time at Jackson’s house and Liam’s penthouse, so they didn’t feel neglected in comparison to Theo, Chase, and Knox. But, I didn’t know the best way to do that. I couldn’t exactly go up to Jackson and say, “Hey, Jax, I’m coming over tonight.” Well, I could, but I wasn’t going to.

He carried me back over the gravel to the car, and I found myself wishing the distance was farther so I could remain cradled in his strong arms a little longer.

After stopping for real food, we made it back to his house, and Penny met us at the door, excited for the company and her dinner. As I watched Jackson shower her with attention, I was struck with how domestic he seemed for a single guy in his early twenties. Technically, he’s a former single guy, I guess.

“What do you do with Penny when you’re out of town? She only stayed with me that one time.”

“Usually, one of my neighbors takes her.”

“Oh. Well, if you ever want me to watch her instead, I’d love to.”

“Yeah?” Jackson looked pleased by my offer.

“Of course. You know I adore her.”

He walked into the kitchen and grabbed something out of one of the drawers before returning to me and placing it in my hand. A key hung from a silver keychain with I like big books and I cannot lie etched into it.

“I’ve been meaning to give that to you.”

“Nice keychain.”

Jackson grinned. “I thought you would like it. I’ll set up the app for my alarm system on your phone. You can come over anytime, not only to take care of Penny. If you want time away from the loft or to sit on the beach. Whatever.”

“Or to see you?” I asked hesitantly, not sure whether he was mainly offering his home when it was empty. Either way, Jackson Hart, Mr. Standoffish himself, giving me a key to his house felt like a significant step in our relationship.

“Especially that.” He wrapped his arms loosely around my waist. “I’ve been trying to take things slow, because I assumed that’s what you wanted. But, as far as I’m concerned, you can make yourself permanently at home here.”

Unable to speak, I nodded. Everything Jackson said sounded like he was speaking as my boyfriend. It was a term I usually tried to avoid thinking about, because doing so induced a mild panic attack. How could I consider even one of the guys my boyfriend without tumbling down the rabbit hole of having five?

“Do you want anything to drink? Believe it or not, I showed up at the loft to talk to you about something.”

“Guess we got sidetracked.”

“Pleasantly so, yes.”

Once we settled on the couch, I asked, “What’s up?”

“As you know, Liam and Chase were in Dallas earlier this week, and thanks to Liam, we finally have a lead.” Jackson shook his head. “Months of working with different teams, trying to get them to trust us, with no results. Then, Liam takes a couple of guys out for drinks, buys them shots, and suddenly we have a lead. I’d be disgusted if I wasn’t so happy to be moving forward.”

“Wait. Liam got them to talk by getting them drunk? I assumed that only worked in the movies.”

“Well, it’s a little more complicated than that, but, yes. Once they were feeling good, he encouraged them to rant about other teams in the office, and they gave away something that is worth investigating further.”

Imagining Liam charming co-workers out of their secrets was enough to make me smile. “Is it strange that I’m impressed?”

Jackson chuckled. “No. Liam is extremely good at what he does. I’d blame it on the accent, but it takes skill to win people over like that.”

“So, what did you learn from the drunk guys?”

“They were assigned a collaborative mission with another team—Team Laredo—who ditched them halfway through the mission. They never reported it, because it would have made them look bad, and they didn’t want to deal with backlash from Team Laredo. Imagine three Knoxes ages twenty-seven to thirty. Not guys you want to mess with.

“Anyway, it’s not proof of misconduct, but it’s certainly suspicious that they were willing to defy Zenith protocol in that manner.”

“What will you do now?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve heard you’re progressing through your training at record pace.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’ve heard, huh? Have you been checking up on me?”

“Perhaps. But, in this case, it benefits you, because I’m going to let you help me out.”

“You’re going to let me help you?” I drawled. “How generous of you.”

“I knew you’d see it my way.” He grinned and hopped up from the couch, returning a few moments later with his laptop in hand. “This is Odysseus.”

“I’m sensing a theme here,” I said, referring to his assignment code names. “Why is it always men in literature? Why not women?”

Jackson shrugged. “Less confusing?”

“How is it any more confusing to use a female name?”

“What if you heard us talking about a Jane or Emma?”

“I guess.” My voice lacked conviction.

“What would you name this assignment?”

“If you wanted to stick with The Odyssey, why not Penelope?”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I like it.”

The next couple of hours flew by as Jackson showed me what he’d started working on and explained what he wanted me to do. Basically, there were hundreds of records created by Team Laredo that needed to be compared with not only the documents from the flash drive Jackson obtained from the San Jose intruder, but also the official Zenith management files. It reminded me of when I searched through my dad’s files—we were looking for a needle in a haystack, and I was already itching to get my hands on the project. There was something about the challenge of it that appealed to me, and I could see Jackson felt the same. Knowing now that he was a strategy specialist made sense to me . . . something else we had in common.

“Enough of that for tonight,” Jackson said, shutting his laptop and placing it out of my reach. He obviously recognized that I was already obsessed with the hunt for evidence.

“Are you sure? We could go through another file or two,” I offered, only half-joking.

He slid a few inches closer to me on the couch. “I happen to find it sexy that you’re so into this, Miss Jones.”

My breath quickened. “Oh?”

Picking up a strand of my hair, he twirled it around his finger. “And, think of how many opportunities we’ll have to work together once you’ve completed your training.” His hand grazed my neck, and I swallowed a gasp.

Barely managing to form a sentence with him touching me, I replied, “Sadly for you, I still have months to go.”

“I could be your private tutor.” He pressed a kiss to my jaw. “So many things I want to teach you.” His mouth traveled down my neck, and my eyes closed as his words sank in.

In a moment of daring, or maybe stupidity, I asked, “Like what?”

He had me flipped on my back, pinned under his weight, in a matter of seconds. “Like the proper way to make out on the couch. There’s a technique to it, you know.”

“I didn’t know.” My voice was shaky, but I didn’t even care. With Jackson’s arms braced on either side of my head, the only parts of our bodies not touching were our chests. I could feel that he was just as turned on as I was, and surprisingly, this new intimacy between us didn’t scare me.

“Mhmm.” His head dipped low enough that his breath brushed over my mouth. “It’s all about making use of limited space.”

When his lips finally landed on mine, I squirmed beneath him and slid my hands under his shirt, needing to feel bare skin. It was hot to the touch and smoother than I expected, at least until my nails dug in, leaving imprints. Jackson groaned, and his body tensed as he seemed to struggle for control.

The kiss went on and on, until I was forced to break my mouth away to catch my breath. He pushed off of me and rolled to the floor in a graceful move that I’d never be able to replicate. As I watched him, his eyes closed and chest raggedly moving up and down, a smile rose to my lips. There was something utterly satisfying about being able to affect the unflappable Jackson Hart.

“So, what’s my next lesson?”

Jackson chuckled and stood, then lifted me from the couch. “I better take you home before even considering the answer to that question.”