“Coincidence.”
Jillian turned. “But you don’t believe that.”
Jackson shook his head. “And I don’t think you do anymore either.”
She didn’t know what to believe. If it were a coincidence then the universe dropped her a gift … the gift of closure. What had she done to deserve such a gift? Nothing.
“It wasn’t coincidence. I’m not that lucky. But if Knox doesn’t believe it then what can we do?”
“Wait.”
She sighed. “Yeah, wait like sitting ducks. Fabulous.”
Jackson raised his chin. Jillian turned and waved at AJ pulling in his garage, wearing a timid smile.
“I’m going inside. Don’t be pissed.”
“About?” She cocked her head to the side.
“Nothing.” He pivoted and walked in the garage, turning just before closing the door. His face wrinkled into a slight grimace.
She skipped across the yard and into AJ’s garage. He eased out of his Jeep checking out her yard work attire, or lack there of.
“See something you like, Sergeant?”
He grabbed his messenger bag from the backseat. “Yes. I just wish everyone else weren’t seeing it.”
“Are you grumpy today?”
Head shake. “I have some work to do. Maybe I’ll call you later.”
Jillian watched him with confusion as he went in the house. She followed him.
“I said I have work to do.” His words carried an edge as he set his bag on the counter.
She moved toward him.
“Stop.” He held up a flat hand.
Jillian stopped. “Um…” she sniffed one of her arm pits “…I put deodorant on. I wasn’t going to stay. I just wanted to give you a reason to call me later.” She gave him a sexy grin and continued toward him.
“Jillian,” he warned, retreating a step.
“Do you want me to beg?”
“No. I want you to go home.”
“Kiss me.” She inched close as the worried look of discomfort deepened along his forehead.
He grabbed her arms, holding them to her sides, and gave her a quick kiss. Then he turned her around and gave her a gentle nudge toward the door. “Now off you go.”
“Aric James!” She whipped around and shoved him against the wall.
“Fuck!” he hissed.
She jumped back, eyes trailing up and down his body until landing on his hand pressed gently to his ribs. She slid his shirt up. “Your ribs are bruised.”
“Brilliant, Dr. Knight.”
“What hap—” Her eyes grew wide. “Jackson. He did this, didn’t he?” She turned and AJ grabbed her arm.
“Stop. He was looking out for his sister.”
“I gave you permission to hit me. Did you give him permission to do this?”
“No, but he earned my respect. If you were my sister, I’d beat any guy a breath away from his last for laying a hand on you. I think he let me off pretty easy.”
“Did you hit him back?”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t a fight. It was an understanding.”
“An understanding?”
“Yes. I understand that I answer to him when it comes to your wellbeing.”
She fisted the collar of his jacket. He winced as he bent down to her.
“You two Neanderthals answer to me, not each other. Got it?” She kissed him hard, feeling the pain in his ribs through the reluctance of his lips. “Now, take something for the pain or sex later is going to make the infamous blow job seem like a trip to Disneyland.” Pivoting on her signature air of confidence, she waltzed out the door like a queen.
“We’re not having sex la—” The door shut before AJ could finish his not-so-confident declaration.
Of course they weren’t having sex later, but ruffling his grumpy feathers had become her new favorite pastime.
*
Jillian always told Jackson everything—eventually. And what she attempted to bury in her emotional tomb that she’d take to her grave, he knew that stuff too. Though out of respect, he kept that knowledge to himself. She needed that illusion of control and he gave it to her. It kept her on the right side of sanity—most of the time. AJ was the wild card. Jackson wasn’t sure where he fit into Jillian’s level of sanity. Her asking to be punished, no matter her reasoning behind it, was a hard limit. Jackson never crossed it, and he sure as shit wasn’t going to let anyone else get away with crossing it.
“Where are you, dick face?” she yelled as the door slammed shut.
And so it began. Her love for him was so touching.
He pumped through pull-ups in the doorway to his bedroom. There was no need to answer. She’d smell his sweat and pain like a bloodhound.
“Mother fucker!” He fell from the bar, landing on his side in fetal position, gasping for his next breath through the intense pain radiating in his stomach and groin. “Below the belt…” he gritted through his teeth “… not … cool.”
“Yeah, well lucky for you, once you stop gagging on your testicles you’ll be fine. AJ’s ribs are going to be sore for weeks. What is wrong with you?”