“You sonofabitch.” Russ laughed the words. “Can you come play with us after you jump in Chicago—providing you live? You’ll make your brother happy. He gets sulky when you’re not there to entertain him.”

“I’ll live, and for you and Ty, I’ll make it work. How long do you need me?”

“Four, five, eight…ten days,” he said with a smile in his voice.

Jax chuckled and rubbed his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I can squeeze in five. I’ll call you later and let you know for sure.”

He said good-bye, disconnected, and sat there a moment, staring at the phone. Slowly, he slid it back into the case on his belt, moved his hand to the phone sitting right next to it, and pulled it into his hand.

One half of his brain was yelling, Don’t do it. Dooooon’t do it.

The other side was laughing like a mad scientist and rubbing his hands together, whispering, The perfect excuse.

He looked at his iPhone. Tapped into text messages. Lexi’s last note was still on his list of recents because he did a lot more talking than texting.

LEXI: On the plane. Miss you already. XO

He’d asked her to text him when she’d boarded so he knew she was safely on her way home. The rest she’d added on her own. And every time Jax looked at the message, he ended up reading twenty different things into the words.

Jax looked out the windshield. He almost wished she hadn’t done that. Maybe it would have been easier to forget her if she hadn’t left that miss you already dangling.

He watched the cars speed by on the highway, their lights blurring.

“…stuffing your pride and taking the job if he offers it, pulling it out of the fire for him will earn you one hell of a lot of gold stars.”

And Jax was considering. For the benefit of his company. For the men who worked for him. For the sense of accomplishment. The sense of validation.

Which was just what Lexi had been doing for her company. For her employees. For herself.

Granted, Jax didn’t like being her sacrifice, but he understood it. And he understood her. They were, in fact, a lot alike in a lot of ways. He believed they were even more alike in ways they didn’t even know yet. If he could just spend some more time with her…

He looked down at his phone and shook his head. God, he knew he was setting himself up for heartbreak. Knew it. Yet he was like a moth hypnotized by the flame.

“She’s not going to be in New York the same days as I am,” he told his phone.

Jax so badly wanted to fool himself into believing that was the reason he was going to text her.

“Great,” he muttered to the phone. “My subconscious has already decided I’m going to do it.”

His phone didn’t comment. Just stared back at him sending telepathic Text Lexi, Text Lexi vibes.

He shut off the engine and rolled down the window, letting the cool Los Angeles pollution roll in.

“Okay,” he told his phone. “It’ll be an easy way for her to brush me off, and I can stop thinking about her, right?”

He really was going out of his mind.

“Or it could open the door in case she’s been feeling the same way I have.”

Chances were not good. He’d never met a woman who had that kind of self-control. If they wanted a guy, they found a way to get the guy. Which usually included subterfuge, lies, betrayal…stealing six-figure contracts.

“Fuck me.”

That was just what he was doing by starting this. He was asking to get fucked again. Maybe he was more like Veronica than he was like Lexi after all, because he certainly wasn’t learning from his mistakes.

He jerked out his work phone again, checked his calendar, and called Russ back. After finagling with him for ten minutes and promising the man another five days of his life, Jax hung up and tapped into his messages.

Then created a new one to Lexi.

Seventeen

Lexi closed the lid of her computer and wandered to the other side of the loft and her bed, pulling off her shirt as she walked. She was exhausted. The mental stress was killing her. The crazy hours were draining her. Instead of feeling invigorated by her business as she had for so many years, she felt sucked dry. Like it aged her a year every month.

This wasn’t what she wanted. But she also knew she had to go through the rough spots to get to the good stuff. And she hadn’t decided whether this partnership with Galliano was one of the rough spots or a black hole. She’d fallen into some of those along the way too.

Already in bare feet, she tugged off her jeans, untangled her hair from the ponytail holder, and rummaged through her drawer for Jax’s T-shirt. She’d brought it home from New York and had been sleeping in it ever since.

Her phone vibrated against her desk, signaling a text message.

Lexi glanced toward it and sighed. Rubi, sending her some follow-up inspirational note or shooting her an idea, she was sure. Rubi was such a good friend. Lexi was lucky to have her.

She dragged her sorry self to the desk, picked up the phone, and returned to her bed, where she fell into it with a groan. She lifted the phone to read her message.

A hot burst of shock slammed her stomach. Lexi gasped and sat up, holding the phone with both hands, scanning the message again and again, trying to convince herself she was mistaken.

But she wasn’t. The message was from Jax.

Jax.

“Oh shit,” she murmured.

JAX: Hey, Lexi. Hope I’m not bothering you. I’ll be heading to New York next week. Would love to see you if you happened to be in town.

“Oh my God.”

She put a hand to her chest, bit her lip, and scraped it between her teeth. Her heart beat hard and erratic. She couldn’t believe it. Jesus, she couldn’t freaking breathe.

Okay, this was fate. Just like he’d said in New York. It had to be.

She hit REPLY. The message box opened, and the cursor blinked inside.

Lexi’s mind went as blank as the box. What did she say? How did she say it? Why had he texted her? After all this time? What did it mean?

She closed her eyes. “Stop,” she commanded herself. “Just stop.”

Pulling in air, she texted slowly, writing and rewriting the message, suddenly tongue-tied, if there was such a thing in texting.

LEXI: Hearing from you is never a bother. And, amazingly, I will be in New York next week. Are you staying at Spencer’s? What are your dates?

She finally got sick of trying to read every possible misrepresentation the message might present, and with her lip between her teeth, hit SEND.

Then she sat there, holding the phone in both hands like it was made of jewels, her stomach somersaulting as she waited for a return text.

When it came, she still wasn’t ready. The vibration startled her, and she dropped the damn thing.

Laughing like an idiot, she scooped it up and read.

JAX: That’s amazing. I’m doing a few more scenes on the same movie. I’ll be there Tuesday through Sunday. I couldn’t get in at Spencer’s this time. I’m at the Four Seasons. What do you think?

“No,” she drew out the word in a whine. “I think I’m screwed.” Her stomach dropped and burned with something far more intense than disappointment.

She set the phone down, pulled out her file drawer, and clawed through her receipts for the travel information. Spread it out on her drawing table. Her phone vibrated, and she startled. She closed her eyes for a second. Then read his message.

JAX: That good, huh?

LEXI: Looking at my schedule now. Trying to figure something out. It’s not pretty. You’re in New York the days I’m in London.

JAX: Why are you going to London?

LEXI: Fabric-and-fashion expo.

He didn’t text back, and anxiety rose in her chest as if she had a limited time to accept the offer before it disappeared. As if she would never get the offer again if she couldn’t figure out a way to accept. Worse, that she’d explode if she missed him by a few days.

“Dammit.” She dropped her head into her hands. “Okay, how can I do this?” She was moving dates and appointments around in her head like a puzzle, and they were falling together about as easily as a Rubik’s Cube.

Lexi’s phone chimed, signaling an incoming call.

“Shit. Not now, Rubi,” she muttered and picked it up. “Hey, Rubi, can I call you back? I’m trying to work on something—“

“Lexi?” Jax’s voice took her by surprise. She sucked air and froze, unable to find words. “It’s Jax. I, um…hope it’s okay to call.” He suddenly sounded guilty, like he thought he might have interrupted something. “I just thought it might be easier to figure out our schedules if we could talk them over together.”

“I… I mean, of course. It’s fine.” She put a hand to her stomach, as if that would settle it. “I’m sorry. Rubi was here a little while ago, and I thought— Never mind. I’m just looking at my… Oh, I guess I already said that.”

Jax laughed, the sound soft, deep, and smooth. Lexi’s body flashed hot with memories of those sure fingers sliding over her skin, his hot tongue behind her ear. The luscious, bone-deep craving she suffered whenever she thought of him created a heaviness between her thighs, and Lexi had to sit down before her legs went out.

“You sound like I feel,” he said. “I’ve been sitting on the side of the road for fifteen minutes working up the nerve to text you.”

All her muscles relaxed. She dropped her head into her hand. “Jesus, it’s great to hear your voice.”

“You just made my week, baby.” His voice felt like a purr in her ear. “Let’s work out these schedules so you can hear it in person. Though…” His voice deepened with suggestion. “I am sitting in my truck just off the intersection of Highways 110 and 5. At this time of night, I could be just about anywhere in the county within twenty minutes. All I need is an address, and we can spend all night looking at the fine points of these schedules…in the flesh.”

Desire drilled through her body, making it difficult to think. On the fringes of her mind, his situation registered. “You’re…on the side of the freeway?” She fought to clear her head. “Are you okay? Do you need…help…or something?”

“If I said yes…” He hesitated. “Would you come to me?”

Something about the way he said come to me made Lexi’s blood bubble. Still, the question hit her wrong and cooled the growing heat. Not because he’d asked, but because he had to ask.

“If you needed something, you could always call me. I’m sorry…” Her throat squeezed with regret.

Jax waited a beat. “You’re sorry…for what?”

“That I’ve created a situation between us that made you feel like you even have to ask.”

But even through her frustration, his location sank in. He was awfully close to her studio, and she couldn’t help but wonder if that was sheer chance. One glance at Google would have told him everything he wanted to know about her career. About who she was. What she looked like. She’d thought about researching him at least a hundred times but hadn’t. Had wondered if he’d done the same.