One Woman (Naked Trilogy 2)

I force myself to ease her off of me, and she sinks into my pillow, not her own, never opening her eyes. Despite the incident with my brother last night, she’s relaxed, she feels safe, and that’s not about the castle. That’s about me, that’s about us, and how damn well we connect. I inhale again, and this time, I take in the scent that is part cedar from the giant pillars surrounding the bed and Emma. Don’t ask me how two things mesh so well, but they do. I could get used to this pairing. I could wake up to it every day, but of course, she lives in San Francisco, and I live here in Maine. Not to mention that she’s a Knight and I’m a North. And while the names don’t matter to me, and I know they don’t to her, nothing about the two of us together is as simple as what I want or what she wants it to be.

Because we are the sum of lies.

Lies we didn’t tell.

Lies we tell ourselves if we say the history between our families doesn’t matter. Hell, I lied, too. I lied to Emma and to myself. My hands settle on my hips as I contemplate the cutting reality of that silent confession. My reasons for seeking out Emma didn’t end just because I’ve decided I need her in my life. I went to her seeking closure. I was looking for an ending, besides my brother’s death, that I will never believe was suicide. I don’t even know what that means or where it leads any of us, but what I do know, is the end has to come. Everything in my gut says I need to control how that happens before someone else gets hurt. That someone was almost Emma last night. The reality here is that Emma and I coming together might well be a great igniter, and the idea that I don’t know what that means sets me in motion. I walk to the bathroom and then the closet, freshen up a bit, and then with the intention of grabbing our bags, I throw on sweats, a T-shirt and sneakers.

By the time I’m done, the bedroom remains dark with Emma still sleeping soundly. I head into the kitchen and call down to the morning crew, arranging to have our bags delivered. I then set the doorbell to ring on my phone only so it won’t wake up Emma. She needs to rest, and I need to think. By the time I’ve set-up a pot of coffee to brew, the buzzer on my phone goes off, which means the bags have arrived. I could buzz open the door and have the bags left downstairs or brought up to the kitchen, but life has taught me to value my privacy, my brother’s suspicious death, driving home that lesson. I head downstairs and open the door to greet the visitor, surprised to find Ross standing there, already in uniform.

“You’re here early,” I comment, as he sets the bags inside the doorway, and I back up enough to allow him to enter. “I thought you hated mornings.”

“I’ve switched to the morning shift, sir.

I scowl. “Sir? When the hell did I become sir to you?”

He gives me a nod. “Fair enough. Jax.”

“When the hell did I become sir to you?” I ask again, my hands settling on my hips.

“New rules established by Jill, or rather, Ms. Radcliff. Formality breeds professionalism as she’s stated on several occasions.”

“Fuck formality. We’re family. You’re family. And I’m in charge. Clearly, Jill and I need to have a talk.”

His eyes narrow and then warm, a crackle of tension in the air now fading away, but it’s not all gone. I sense that he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. “Speak your mind,” I urge.

“I don’t believe I will,” he says.

“Why?” I counter.

“A lesson your father taught me and well.”

I arch a brow. “And that lesson would be what?”.

“Many, actually. I considered him a friend.”

And Jill as an enemy clearly, but I don’t press him. That’s a lesson my father taught me. When you force a square into a circle, something gets broken, which basically means use finesse not force. Most people wouldn’t understand how much that lesson taught me about boxing. “He considered you a friend as well,” I finally state. “As do I. If you change your mind, all things between us are only between us.”

He inclines his chin and turns away. I start to shut the door but have one last thought. “Ross.” He half turns to look at me and I add, “Thanks for reminding me of a lesson my father taught me.”

“What lesson would that be?” he queries.

“Where you see family, you find loyalty.”

“You have my loyalty, Jax.”

“I think it’s time I deserve it.”