Simply Irresistible (21 page)

Rude. She stalked back to the office, talking to herself.

“Did you skip the caffeine again?” Jax asked.

She took in the unexpected sight of him standing in the doorway, palms up on the wooden frame above him.

Just looking at him made her feel better.

A lot better. He was watching her with a little smile on his face, wearing his usual uniform of a pair of jeans and battered
boots, today with a merino wool hoodie sweatshirt.

And his tool belt.

Let’s not forget the tool belt.
“I’ve had caffeine,” she told him. “And a blast of Mr. Jenkins. He called me an idiot.”

Jax’s lazy smile vanished. “What?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know stem from stern. Hell, I barely know what horses have to do with engines.” She smiled, but he didn’t.

Instead, he pushed off from the doorframe and came close. “He’s an ass.”

“Agreed. But he’s a paying ass. Why would my mom have given that man a deal?”

“I think she dated him briefly, but even her sunny nature gave up trying to cure his chronic grumpiness. Tell me you kicked
him out of here when he mouthed off at you.”

“I was tempted. But truthfully, it was my own fault.”

Jax stilled, his expression going very quiet, very serious. “Maddie.”

She stared at him, her stomach pinging hollowly. “Dammit,” she whispered. “It
wasn’t
my fault. I did it again.” She closed her eyes. Whirling, hands fisted, she flew to the marina door with some half-baked
idea about climbing back onto that boat and—

“Maddie.“

“No, I have to go. I have to give him a piece of my mind and maybe a foot shoved up his—”

Two warm arms surrounded her, pulling her back against a solid chest. “I’m all for that,” he said in her ear. “In fact, I’ll
hold him down for you if you’d like. But unless you want to go for a swim to retrieve him, you’re going to have to wait a
few hours.”

She turned to face him. He was still dangerously quiet, and there was an anger in his eyes she’d not seen since he kicked
that patron out of the Love Shack that first night. It gave her yet another heart lurch, even though she knew he wasn’t mad
at
her.
“Being the strong female lead star of my own life is harder than I thought.”

“You’re doing good. You’re doing real good.”

She let out the breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding and tipped her face up to his. “Yeah?”

His eyes warmed. “Yeah.”

She managed a little smile. “Would you really hold him down for me?”

“In a heartbeat.”

For some reason, that gave her a warm fuzzy, and her smile spread. “It’s not exactly… politically correct.”

The look he gave her said he didn’t give a shit about being politically correct, he only cared about what was right.

And God, even from here, he smelled delicious. How was it that he always smelled so good? But rather than grabbing his sweatshirt
and pulling him in, she stepped around him to her desk. “I’ve got to finish getting all this straightened out. I don’t want
to lose money because I don’t know what I’m doing. And Mr. Jenkins threatened to sue me for stupidity, which would really
suck.”

“Tell him you’re going to countersue for emotional damages.”

She smiled at the thought. “Can someone really do that?”

“If you could prove you were negligently injured.”

“You sound like a lawyer.” She grinned. “Good thing you’re not, because then I’d probably not like you as much.”

“Come here,” he said softly and pulled her in for a hug. “Kiss me, Maddie. Show me you remember our place.”

She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him until she couldn’t remember her own name, then pressed her face to his throat, feeling
an odd tug in her chest at how much this meant. At how much he meant.

“Maddie—”

“I love how open you are,” she said. “How honest. Do all the women you date appreciate that?”

“I’m not dating anyone else right now. Tell me that you know that we wouldn’t have had sex if I was seeing someone else.”

“Well, you’d think I’d know that, but I’ve made some bad choices,” she said. “I no longer trust my judgment. It’s easier for
me to hear it straight from you, because I can believe what you say.”

That odd something crossed his face, coming and going so fast she couldn’t identify it. For a long moment, he watched his
thumb glide along her jaw. “How about what I don’t say?”

“What?”

“I haven’t been in a relationship for five years,” he said. “Since before I moved back here. Opening up isn’t exactly second
nature for me, Maddie.”

“Five years is a long time to go without sex.”

His eyes cut to hers. “I didn’t say I’d gone without sex.”

“Oh.”
Oh.

“But before you, it’d been a while for that, too.”

“There’s plenty of women in town.”

“Yes, and most of them take their dating far more seriously than I do. Maddie, you need to know something about me.”

God. “You’re married. You’re a felon. You’re—”

“A lawyer. Before I moved back to Lucky Harbor, I was in Seattle. I was practicing law.”

Jax spent a few days building new bathroom vanities at his own home wood shop on the other side of town. Maddie hadn’t said
much about his revelation, but then again, she’d made herself scarce.

There was nothing Jax could do about his past, it was written in ink. And he’d done the right thing by telling her. Especially
since he’d held back other things—secrets that weren’t his to share.

He only hoped Maddie saw it the same way. He kept telling himself that she would, that what they were beginning to feel for
each other would be stronger than extenuating circumstances.

As he made his way through his house to leave for the shrimp feed, he shook his head at all the decorations Jeanne had put
up, complete with mistletoe hanging from his doorways. It was clear that she was optimistic for his shot at having a woman
in the house. Probably he’d blown that.

He drove to the pier. In a few hours, just about everyone in town would arrive for the annual event. The money raised tonight
would supplement the funds for the police and fire departments, which was important but definitely
not the first thing on people’s minds as they paid to get in.

Nope, that would be the events. First up was the parade of shrimp boats, always led by the mayor on a decorated jet ski. Then
the person who came closest to guessing the amount of shrimp brought in would get to kiss the mayor.

Man, woman, or child.

With Jax’s luck, it’d be Ford or Sawyer. Last year it’d been his mail carrier—much to everyone’s utter delight. Hopefully
this year, plenty of the other two thousand people in town had bought tickets.

Afterward, they’d eat until their guts hurt and then dance to the Nitty Gritty, the local pop-rock band. People would probably
still be dancing as the first pink tinges of dawn came up on the horizon.

Sawyer arrived right after Jax. He was in uniform, there on official crowd-control duty. And to make fun of Jax, of course.
Ford showed up, too, setting up a booth for the Love Shack from which beer, wine, and eggnog would be floating aplenty.

Jax eyed the jet ski waiting for him. It was a loan from Lance and his brother—when they weren’t manning their ice cream shop,
they were big jet skiers. In the summertime, like normal people.

Not many were crazy enough to go jet skiing in the dead of winter, but tradition was tradition.

Lance was grinning when he handed over the key. The kid was facing a virtual death sentence with his cystic fibrosis, but
he knew how to enjoy life. He’d lavishly decorated the jet ski with Christmas lights. Sawyer had helped him, and both had
promised that everything
was battery operated and waterproof so Jax
probably
wouldn’t get electrocuted.

Good to know his friends had his back.

Out on the water about two hundred yards, three shrimp boats waited, also lavishly—aka garishly—decorated, ready for him to
escort them in parade-like fashion. “Good times,” Lance said and grinned.

Jax turned his face upward. Lots of clouds, but no snow or rain. That was good. But it was forty-eight degrees, so “good”
was relative. He pulled on the thick, waterproof fisherman gear the shrimpers wore so at least he wouldn’t freeze off any
vital parts.

The crowd woo-hoo’d as if he was stripping instead of putting on gear, and he rolled his eyes. Looking out into the faces,
he locked gazes with Maddie.

She shook her head. Obviously, she wasn’t over the whole lawyer thing—not that he blamed her—and just as obviously, she thought
he was crazy.

He’d have to agree there. He smiled at her. She didn’t return it. Ouch. He’d have to work on fixing that, but one problem
at a time. Stepping into the water, he straddled the jet ski and took another look at the shore.

Ford and Sawyer were grinning. So was Chloe.

Bloodthirsty friends.

Maddie had her hand over her mouth, so he wasn’t exactly sure what her expression was now. He hoped it was sympathy, and he
also hoped that he could get that to work in his favor in a little bit when he needed warming up.

As he’d imagined, the next ten minutes passed in a frozen blur as he rode the jet ski and lead the shrimp parade. Then he
was back on shore, being warmly greeted and wrapped in blankets. Sandy shoved a mic
into his hand and a piece of paper. The crowd hushed with expectant hope.

“Eight hundred and fifty-six shrimp,” Jax called out.

No one had guessed that exact amount, but one person had come close at 850. He accepted another piece of paper from Sandy
with the winner’s name. He read it silently and looked at Maddie, who stared back, thoughts closed but a little pissiness
definitely showing.

Trying to convey both apology and self-deprication, he smiled at her. “Maddie Moore,” he said to wild cheers.

Maddie’s mouth fell open.

Chloe helpfully shoved her forward.

“But I didn’t put any tickets in,” Maddie said as Jax grabbed her hand in his and pulled her up onto the makeshift stage.

Ford and Sawyer were cracking up. So was Chloe, and Maddie narrowed her eyes at her. “How many tickets in my name did you
enter?”

“Fifty.”

“Me, too,” Ford called out.

Sawyer grinned. “A hundred from me. Good cause and all.”

Okay, Jax thought, so maybe sometimes his bloodthirsty friends came in handy.

“I entered my name one hundred times,” Lucille called out, disappointment clear across her face. “Damn. Maybe next year…”

“
Kiss, kiss, kiss,
” chanted the crowd.

Jax had stopped shivering, but he still had some serious warming up to do. Both his own body, and Maddie, because her eyes
were on him, cool and distant.

Yep, definitely needed some warming up. Kissing sounded like a great way to do that. Holding Maddie’s very resistant gaze
in his, he tugged her close, looking forward to this for the first time all day.

“You’re freezing,” Maddie whispered.

“Yes.”

She sighed and slipped her arms around his waist, tipping her face up to his. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.” He stared down into her beautiful eyes and felt his heart catch with all the possibilities he felt, not to mention
hope—an extremely new emotion for him. “I plan on changing your mind about me.”

“Jax—”

“I’m sorry, Maddie. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but you have to know, I’m not a lawyer now. That was my past.”

“I know.”

“Kiss!” yelled the crowd.

Maddie fidgeted in his arms, clearly not thrilled with having an audience for this. He ran a slow hand up her throat before
cupping her jaw, leaving his other hand low on her back in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. “You okay with this, Maddie?”

Surprising the hell out of him, she answered by cupping his icy face in her hands and going up on her tiptoes to reach him.
He met her halfway, bending low to cover her mouth with his. He heard her suck in a breath and knew his lips were icy. Apologizing
with a soft murmur, he changed the angle to get a better taste of her.

Then she surprised him again.

Her mouth opened for his, and the sweet kiss turned into something else, something sensuous and intense.
Heat exploded within him, melting all the iciness from the inside out.

Around them, the crowd whooped and hollered, and Maddie began to pull back, but he held her tight.

“Need a minute?” she whispered, a hint of humor behind the heat in her eyes as she brushed up against his erection.

“Maybe two—” He broke off with a jagged groan when she put her mouth to his ear. “Maddie, that’s not helping.”

But then she whispered something that did help.

“Just think,” she whispered. “It could have been Lucille.”

Ford was bartending, serving beer on tap to a line of customers. Jax, warmed up now, was behind the bar getting cups and restocking
the alcohol. The booth was good for Ford because it made the Love Shack even more popular, which in turn was good for Jax
because he owned the other half of the bar.

In fact, Jax coowned several businesses in town. It was what he’d done with his money when he’d come back to Lucky Harbor.
He’d bought up properties in a sagging market to help the people who’d known and loved him all his life.

They were thankful, but he was the one who felt the gratitude. They’d welcomed him back, given him a sense of belonging when
he’d so desperately needed it.

“Wake up,” Tara said with a little wave in his face. She’d come to his end of the bar, away from the line and the crowds,
and was looking at him expectantly. “Yeah, hi. I’m looking for a drink.”

“The line’s over there. I’m not serving, I’m just—”

She tapped the bar. “Listen, sugar. Lucille just asked me about the stick up my ass, okay? I need a drink pronto. Make it
a double.”

He grimaced. “Beer, wine, or eggnog?”

“Well, hell. Wine.”

Jax poured her a very full glass and handed it over, watching as she tossed it back like a shot of Jack. “Tara.”

“Yeah?”

“You have to tell her.”