chapter 39
Jaxon
I’M MAKING NOTES IN my daily planner when there’s a knock at my door. It’s late, and the office is about to close, so I assume it’s one of the crew coming to harass me about something or other, so I’m surprised when Sharon, in a red dress with red lipstick, walks into my office.
“I’m just about to head out, Ms. Beetle. You’ll need to make an appointment with Yvonne at front desk if you need to see me for something,” I tell her, keeping my voice stern. She needs to stop thinking rules don’t apply to her, because this is getting fucking ridiculous.
“I left my phone here this morning,” she murmurs, glancing around. “I’ll just grab it and be out of your way.”
I look on my desk but don’t see any phone. Nor did I come across one during the day. “I don’t think it’s here,” I tell her.
Only a few more weeks, and then I’ll never have to see her again.
“I definitely left it here,” she says, looking on the floor. “It might have fallen down somewhere.”
In her dress, gold heels, and face full of makeup, she starts crawling around on the floor. I look up at the ceiling and pray for patience. Is Hunter still here? I feel like he’d really enjoy this situation right now.
“Oh, there it is,” she says, sounding excited. “It’s near your foot, Mr. Bentley.”
I look down and see that there is, indeed, a small black phone under the corner of my desk. I pick it up, happy to be rid of her, and hand it to her.
“Thank you,” she says, then takes me by complete surprise, by jumping up on me, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me. She missed my lips properly though, so it’s more like her sucking on my lower lip and chin. I’m about to push her off, when in a flash, another unexpected turn of events takes place. Demon walks into my office, sees . . . whatever the fuck Sharon is doing to me, except instead of saving me, he assumes the worst.
And that’s how I got punched in the face by my best friend.
“I THOUGHT YOU WERE cheating on Scar!” he growls, pacing up and down my office. “How was I supposed to know a woman would be attacking you and trying to seduce you? Fucking hell, Jaxon! How’s your nose?”
“Broken,” I reply in a dry tone.
I don’t think it’s actually broken, but the bastard deserves to feel bad over hitting me in the face. “And even if I was kissing another woman, what the fuck happened to bro code? Whose side are you on here, Demon?” I yell, then point to my bleeding nose. “Pretty sure this answers that for me.”
“You’re angry at me for being close with your woman and defending her honor?” he throws back at me. “If you were cheating on her, you fucking deserved that hit, and you know it. And if you cheated, period, you wouldn’t be the man I’ve known my whole life.”
“Yet you still punched me without asking any questions!”
“Trigger reaction to what I walked in on, brother! Can you really blame me?” he asks, rubbing his knuckles.
“What, did my face hurt your hand? Should I be saying sorry?” I ask, voice laced with sarcasm.
“Your face is fucking hard, actually,” he says, anger gone. He drops into my client chair and scans the room before bringing his eyes to me.
Then the bastard laughs.
Laughs.
There’s blood on my carpet, but he’s laughing.
“You’re an asshole, Demon,” I growl, sighing heavily. “How am I going to explain this to Scarlett?”
“I’ll explain it to her if you want,” he grins, adding. “I’m going to go up a notch in her books.”
My eyes narrow to slits, and I take the cloth from my nose. “Explain what? That instead of saving me from that she-devil you hit me in the face? A face she happens to be quite fond of. What did you come here for, anyway?”
“I haven’t seen you since the knife fight and . . . Olivia’s . . . and you know, I just wanted to see how you’re doing is all. I don’t think it’s safe to keep going to your house, so I thought I’d quickly drop by here. A biker in a lawyer’s office is probably a pretty common sight, hey?” he says with his expression blank. Sometimes I’m so self-involved I forget I’m not the only person who loves Olivia. Demon must be struggling too, and trying to seek me out because I’m the only one who would know what he’s going through right now.
“I’m doing okay, Demon. Or at least I was,” I say, tightening my lips and touching my nose. “How are you doing?”
“Yeah, okay,” he says, looking anywhere except me now. “I went to her stone and saw your roses. I added some of my own. She’s the most spoiled person there now.”
I close my eyes and reopen them. “It’ll never get easier, will it?”
“No,” he replies instantly, sounding miserable. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t push through like we always do, right?”
I nod. “Something like that. It’s just so hard not to think about the what-ifs. I think that’s the part that kills me. It didn’t have to be like this.”
“I know,” he whispers, voice cracking. “Trust me, brother, I know. She could have been here with us right now, yelling at us for fighting, then tending to your face.”
“Her touch would have been soft, no matter how angry she was,” I add, remembering all the times she helped us tend to cuts, wounds, and bruises after getting into fights or doing some other dumb shit.
“The good die young,” he murmurs. “And boy, was she good.”
He loved her—I know it; he knows it.
And Olivia loved him too.
We share a look, a moment of vulnerability where we don’t hide the truth from ourselves. Where we let our weakness, our pain show.
And then we let it go.
Until next year.
“You all right to drive home?” he asks me, standing up. “Or you going to be a little bitch about the tap I gave you?”
I smirk, silently grateful the intense moment is now over. “I’m good to drive, don’t worry about me. I’ll just send Scarlett over to sort you out.”
“Ha! She’s just as soft as Olivia was,” he blurts out, trying to be funny, but the words must hit us, because we both go quiet again.
I disagree with this comment though, because Scarlett is much stronger than Olivia was. Yes, she’s gentle and soft and kind, but she also has a spine of steel.
“Until next time,” Demon says, lifting his chin at me and then disappearing. I get into my car and drive home, ready to face Scarlett and explain why my nose looks like Owen Wilson’s.
“SHE DID WHAT?” Scarlett growls, rushing to me and turning my face from left to right. “That bitch put her lips on you?”
I inwardly feel smug that she’s finally showing a reaction to this whole scenario, but I hide it. “Well, she tried. She mainly kissed my chin.”
“And then Demon punched you?” she asks again, making a tsk-tsk sound. “What am I meant to do with the two of you? He shouldn’t have hit you, but to be fair he thought you were making out with that hag.”
I smirk at her choice of word for Sharon. “He should’ve given me the benefit of the doubt. Fuck, I’d never cheat, Scarlett. He should’ve known better.”
“Don’t take it personally. It was a heat-of-the-moment thing. I probably would’ve done the same,” she admits, brushing it off.
“You would have punched me in the face?” I ask, doubt leaking from my words.
“No,” she says slowly, but then explains that she already knew Sharon was after me. Demon didn’t have any of the background information, which is true. Still, I’m allowed to complain about being hit square in the nose by my best friend, who is a cop, and a trained fighter—not that Scarlett knows about that.
“Well, it doesn’t appear to be broken,” she says, examining me. “Which is the good news. Bad news is it’s swollen and looks extremely painful. Why don’t you have a shower and get changed and then we can put some ice on it, and give you some painkillers.”
I pull her close, and rest my forehead against hers. “As if I’d do anything to jeopardize this, Scarlett.”
“I know,” she says back, kissing my lips gently. “You aren’t that stupid. I trust you, Jaxon. I know you’re a good man, and an honorable one. You’re loyal.”
“Yet I still get punched,” I grumble, which only makes her laugh. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”
She kisses my cheek. “Do you want me to run a bath for you, Mr. Grumpy?”
I nod. “Yeah, that actually sounds good.”
She smirks, like she finds my sulky mood amusing, and heads to the bathroom. I follow her and strip down along the way. “Are you going to join me?”
She nods and turns the water on, then removes her clothes. I stare at her body from behind, the flare of her hips and the soft curve of her ass. She’s so beautiful from every angle. I reach out and trail my finger down her spine, and she stills, then turns her head back to look at me, her hair flipping to the side. “Feeling better, are we?”
“Just admiring the view,” I say, gaze roaming. “You’re so beautiful, Scarlett. And not just on the outside.”
She beams at me, and then bends down to test the water temperature.
Well, fuck.
I glance down at my dick, which is now standing to attention, and wonder which position will be most comfortable in that tub. She straightens and turns back to me, a sultry, playful look on her face. She bites her bottom lip, and then steps into the tub, beckoning me. She doesn’t sit down though, she waits until I’m in, before she gets comfortable in between my legs. She ignores my hard-on, and I do the same, feeling so relaxed in the warm water, with my woman’s back pressed against my chest. Sometimes the most intimate moments you can have with someone don’t involve sex. I cup some water in my hands and pour it onto her shoulders, and she rests her head on my chest.
Not a bad way to end the night, ‘broken’ nose and all.