One Man (Naked Trilogy 1)

“He called from his assistant’s phone, which is a head game, and a message, the kind he enjoys.”

“He’s telling you he can still get to you.”

We’re back in uncomfortable territory which I why I don’t agree or disagree. I glance over at him. “I don’t think his timing is a coincidence. He has to know that I’m meeting with Marion.”

“Maybe you should talk to him.”

“No,” I say. “That is not a beast I want to feed.”

“Marion setup this meeting for a reason, Emma,” he warns. “She’s afraid of you. So, either your brother already knows about the affair and they’re going to team up on you, or you’re in for a surprise.”

“My brother wouldn’t sideswipe me,” I say, without an inkling of hesitation. “I know there’s a surprise coming though and it won’t be a good one.”

“Do you want to talk about what that might be and strategize before you go to the meeting?”

This offer surprises me when perhaps it shouldn’t. This is Jax and Jax is never anything I expect, and that’s a good thing. “Thank you, but the ride is short and we’re almost there. I just want this over.”

“We can drive around or park and talk this out,” Jax says. “Hell, we can go get coffee. They can wait.”

“I got this,” I promise. “I’ll deal with it and the rest of my work. Then I’ll clear my schedule and we’ll go to Maine. I’ll run away with you for real this time, Jax.”

Jax laces the fingers of his hands with mine and kisses my knuckles. “Yes. You will. Remember that when you’re in there today.”

“I will,” I promise as the SUV stops and the driver calls out, “We’re here now.”

“Last chance to game plan,” Jax offers.

“I want it over with,” I repeat, and he gives a small nod before he opens the door and steps outside, helping me exit. “I’ll walk you to the door,” he says, his hand at my waist.

We turn for the door and my brother steps in front of us. No. Not us. He steps in front of Jax, his eyes locked on him.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Emma…

Chance and Jax stand there staring at each other, two good looking men, the same and yet different, Chance dark-haired, Jax fair-haired, a push and pull of power between them that threatens to explode.

“What are you doing, Chance?” I hiss urgently, and because I know how deeply Jax wants answers, and in truth, revenge, I grab his arm, anchoring him, reminding him that Chance is my brother.

Chance’s gaze rockets to me, his piercing blue eyes alight with anger. “You stayed the night with him again?” he demands.

I blanch, shocked by such a question from Chance of all people. “Where is this coming from? You knew we were together, and how is that your business?”

“That’s a yes,” he says, his gaze swinging back to Jax. “I don’t want her hurt.”

“Neither do I,” Jax says, “and it seems to me that’s not always been the case. York showed up at her place yesterday morning.”

“He’s her ex-fiancé,” Chance replies. “You aren’t.”

“He’s a bastard I don’t want near me,” I snap.

“A bastard who had a key she didn’t give him,” Jax adds.

Chance looks at me. “I don’t even have a key. How fuck did he get a key?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “But he walked right in, and honestly, you don’t know that man like I do. I thank God Jax was there. He made him leave. I don’t think you really understand, Chance, and that’s on me, but—he scares me.”

My brother stares at me to the point of awkward before he says, “I’ll get him out of town.” He looks at Jax. “Thank you for being there for my sister but I’m not my father. I don’t know what happened between him and your brother and neither does Emma.”

“Prove it,” Jax says. “Why did your father want the castle in the first place? He came at it like we’re sitting on an oil field.”

“I’ll be damned if I know,” Chance says. “But he wanted it.” My brother glances my direction. “He even put that in the will. Get the castle. That’s an exact quote.”

Relief washes over me that he’s not only been honest with me on this, but that he’s done it in front of Jax, and even looks at Jax as he adds, “That’s all I know.”

“And I need to know what that’s about,” Jax says. “Because my brother is dead.”

Chance draw back, as if slapped. “You actually think that’s connected to us?”

“Is it?” Jax challenges.

“Look, man, I get it. It hurts, but I don’t see the connection between my father and your brother’s suicide.”

I cringe with the descriptive words I know will hit a nerve and set Jax off.

“I do,” Jax says. “And I won’t stop coming until I know where that lands.”