Reckless

Jessie stopped dancing and gazed up at him with a what-the-fuck look. “Bentley Jaxon Chamberlin, don’t make me flog you at my own wedding.”



Jax laughed, but he wasn’t feeling the humor. And as he looked down into Jessie’s eyes, he was reminded that even she had chosen Connor over Jax one night long ago. Something Jax never thought twice about. Never regretted. In fact, he’d believed in a lot of ways Connor had taken a bullet for him. He’d felt pushed toward Jessie because of her father’s not-so-hidden wishes and Jax’s own drive for Stan’s fatherly approval. Once Jessie had chosen Connor, Jax had been so relieved in so many ways, he’d never cared why she’d chosen Connor.



Only now, it was clear. Connor had respectable family, an outstanding Hollywood reputation as an upstanding guy. Walked the walk. Talked the talk. Shook hands and kissed babies.



A sick gurgle of a laugh came from Jax’s throat. His mother would get such a thrill out of this moment. She’d always told him he’d lose out big someday, because in Hollywood, image was everything.



This was never something he’d ever fathomed losing. Probably because he’d never imagined falling in love.



Pain shot through his shoulder, and Jax finally heard Jessie talking to him, tugging on the arm he’d injured in Idaho to get his attention.



“Are you okay? Maybe you had a little too much to drink too.”



No, but he definitely wasn’t right either. Physically or emotionally. The longer he watched Lexi in this environment, with the upstanding businessmen flocking around her, the lower Jax sank.



The song changed, and another guest came up to claim Jessie for the dance.



Jax slipped through the other guests on the dance floor and leaned against the bar. A wave of dizziness made him sway.



“Are you all right, sir?”



Jax put his forehead against his hand. “I could use some water.”



His cell rang. The Renegades phone, not his personal phone. Jax was suddenly exhausted, but he answered, “Renegades.”



“Jax, it’s Ted Rimer.”



Jax’s gut coiled tight. “Part of me was hoping you wouldn’t call.”



“But you knew I would.”



“What else are you going to do? Sucky spot to be in, Ted. I’m sorry this happened.”



“You’ll keep your mouth shut in bed from now on I guess, right?”



Jax didn’t appreciate the dig. “People who live in glass houses…”



Rimer sighed heavily. “So what am I going to have to give you to pick up this job? You’ve pretty much got a gun to my head here.”



“You put it there. It’s not my fault you tried to go cheap and ended up getting screwed.”



“I’m twenty million over budget,” he said, ignoring Jax’s comment.



“I heard thirty.”



“You heard wrong,” Rimer said.



“Whatever.” Jax didn’t doubt it, and how much over budget they were didn’t matter to him. “Since you didn’t pick us up for your movie, I’ve found a lot of work. I’d be giving up a lot, taking my boys off sure things. You’re the one over budget. Tell me what you can give us to make it worth the risk.”



“I can pay you the minimum SAG contract rate.”



The Screen Actors Guild minimum contract payment was far less than what Jax negotiated for a job. He made a low hum in his throat. “That’s not inspiring. In fact, it’s demeaning.”



“I’m not done,” Rimer said. “If you can pull us back into the black, I’ll give you ten percent of the money you save us.”



Jax paused. “I must have heard you wrong too.”



“No, you didn’t. You save me twenty million, and I’ll give you two.”



“Two million,” he clarified.



“That’s the deal.”



Two million was one-tenth what he’d made on a movie at the height of his acting career, but it was a hell of a lot of money to a stuntman. Jax was pretty sure he could do it. And that kind of money would float Renegades for a while. Buy new equipment. Bring on new guys. Ease the burden on Jax. Maybe he could even have a life. “Send me the script and tell me where you’re at in the filming process. I’ll let you know.”



He said good-bye and disconnected, then glanced over his shoulder toward Lexi. She’d moved to another table where two bridesmaids sat and eased to the edge of a chair, leaning in to hear something one of the women said to her. She laughed, her head tipping back, eyes sparkling. And that damned dimple appeared in her cheek.



Jax instantly returned to that night in New York, the front of his body pressed to her back, the feel of her hair against his chest, the sound of her sweet laugh.



He realized now that had been the very moment—when she’d laughed at Jax’s stupidity on the horse—the moment he’d fallen in love with her.



She wanted for her business and her life what Jax had just been offered for his. And he wanted that for her too. He wanted her to experience this sense of relief. Of hope.



Which meant getting the hell out of her way.



Twenty-One



Just watching Jax move made Lexi ache. She knew he was hurting, yet he still danced with Jessie, hung out to bullshit with Connor and others. He knew one hell of a lot of people here. Most seemed to love him, though she’d noticed a few people move the other direction when someone in the circle initiated a conversation with Jax, but it didn’t seem to bother him. And his earlier comment about being used to having people being ashamed of him cut at her.



Claudia Love stood with him now, her arm around his waist. He had his arm over her shoulders in a circle of Claudia and Stan’s friends, giving Stan a ration about something. But Stan gave it right back, and everyone laughed.



The sound of Jax’s laughter made Lexi’s chest warm and her belly ache. An hour had passed, and he hadn’t tried to talk to her again. He seemed so tired. As if the last hour had drained him of all his energy. She wanted to take him home. Wanted to undress him, make love to him, fall asleep with him.



Jax shook Stan’s hand, kissed Claudia on the cheek, and broke from the group.



Panic prickled her skin. She didn’t want him to leave, which didn’t make any sense. He turned toward the bar, spoke with the bartender a moment. Lexi couldn’t let him leave with this wedge between them.



She pulled one packet of ibuprofen and one packet of acetaminophen from her clutch and approached him at the bar. He’d only had two drinks—the champagne and one glass of Connor’s scotch. She’d been watching him. So when he turned glazed eyes on her, she knew something was wrong.



“Hey,” he said. “I’m sorry for coming here, baby. Stupid. Don’t worry, I’m going home.”



She wanted to touch him. Kiss him. “You look like you could use these.”



She slid the meds toward him. His eyes lowered to the packages and his mouth turned in a smile. The bartender set a bottle of water on the bar in front of Jax. He thanked the man and lifted his gaze to Lexi. “Baby,” he said, relief sliding through his voice as he reached for the meds. “If I were an investment banker, I’d kiss you right now.”



She frowned as he opened the meds and swallowed them with the water. “If you were an investment banker, I wouldn’t want you to kiss me. At all.”



He set the water on the bar and met her eyes. “You are so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at you. Good thing I love what’s on the inside too, or…” He made a cutting motion over his throat.



He seemed…drunk. Then another thought occurred to her. “Jax, have you taken something tonight?”



His eyes narrowed, then a slow, brittle smile turned his mouth. “Like…drugs?”



She didn’t want to accuse him, but… “You’re not right.”



“But you wouldn’t really know, would you?” He turned away from the bar, picked up the water, and walked away.



She deserved the cut. It hurt, and she took it, but she didn’t let him go. He exited the mansion’s front doors, skipped down the curved marble staircase with the help of the banister, and started down a long, tree-lined flagstone path toward a side parking lot.



Lexi paused at the edge of the patio. The path was lit only by tiny white lights where the flagstone met the grass, one side lined by one of the mansion’s high stone patio walls.



“Jax?”



He didn’t answer. Didn’t stop.



Lexi glanced around, pulled off her heels, and started down the path. “Jax, wait.”



A few yards ahead, Jax’s silhouette stopped. His head tipped back with the bottle of water at his mouth. By the time he stopped drinking, Lexi had caught up and heard him crinkle the bottle in his hand.



“Don’t worry, babe,” he said, his voice low and hopeless in the dark. “I’m not going to out you.”



“I don’t care.” She heard the words, but it almost seemed as if they’d come from someone else. “I mean I do, but…I don’t want to. I care about you. I just…it’s complicated. Can you give me some time, Jax? This is…terrifying.”



He didn’t answer, but he didn’t walk away. Lexi moved closer. He was barely visible in the dark, and it brought back memories—and nerves—of their first night together.



“I missed you,” she said, reaching for his arm and sliding her hand down to close her fingers around his. “And I’m stressed. And I wasn’t prepared for this. But I…”



His hand closed around hers in the dark, the sensation so reassuring, the same way he’d been that first night. Every moment they’d been together since. Emotion swelled in her chest. Tears burned her eyes.



“There’s no accounting for who you love, right?”



“I love you, Jax.” The words didn’t come out right. They sounded plastic. Fake. “But it’s happening so fast, and I’m confused. I’ve been living so long one way—”



He pulled on her hand, drawing her close. His other arm wrapped around her waist. “What?”



“I don’t…” Why did she feel like she was dangling over a ledge? “I don’t want to lose you because I’m resistant to—”



“Not that.”



His hand found her face, felt along her temple, her cheek, until he found her jaw, then drew her up. His mouth covered hers, and Lexi whimpered, kissing him back, seeking his tongue. He tasted her for one long moment, then broke abruptly.



“The other part,” he said.



She knew what he meant, and the warm sensations flowed through her. “I love you. I know there’s a lot I don’t know, but I can guess. And all that matters to me is that I love who you are now.”



“Lexi…” Her name was more of a groan than a word before his mouth closed over hers again. And so much emotion filled his kiss, Lexi could taste it. She was too short without her shoes on and stretched against his body to get more of his mouth, more of everything.



The hard ridge of him rubbing her low belly made her crazy, and she stroked him through his jeans.