His heart broke. He was a fucking fool all right, but not in the way he’d first suspected.
God, how had this all gone so bad?
“Lexi.”
She jumped, turned, but Jax stood in the shadowed area between two streetlights. She started working frantically on the lock again, sniffling. “You know the parking lot is off-limits. This is private property. If you don’t get out of here, I’ll send your picture from the security cameras to LAPD. And you’ll get nailed with another fine. I’m not going to tell you anything more about my clients at two in the morning than I do at two in the afternoon—”
“Lexi, it’s me, Jax.”
She gasped, stopped struggling with the lock, and pushed the hair out of her face. The light over the back door made the tears shine on her skin. The sight made Jax ache.
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” he said, knowing it wasn’t enough. Realizing how screwed up he was.
“It’s my fault.” She sucked in a choked sob and hammered the glass door with both fists, then dropped her forehead against it. “Fucking door.”
And started crying again.
When Jax reached her, she’d melted against the door. He pulled her back, turned her, and eased her against his body, holding her gently. “Aren’t we a couple of fucked-up messes?”
She heaved a troubled breath and tilted her chin back. Her mascara had smeared, and Jax ran his thumb along the corner of her eye, wiping the shadow away.
“I—” She exhaled. “I’ve had a r-really rough d-day.”
“I’ll say,” he murmured, feeling like the biggest dick on the planet. “I’m sorry I made it worse.” He ran his thumb over her plump lower lip, unable to tear his gaze away. Needing to feel it between his own. “Can I take you home? Make it up to you?”
“I am home.” She pulled back and looked down at her keys. “If I can just get inside.”
“You live here?” Jax asked, confused.
“My apartment’s in the loft above the shop.”
He had a million questions. “Let me get you inside.” He held his hand out. “Let’s talk a little.”
She pushed a wad of keys into his hand, her own shaking. “It’s two in the morning, Jax. Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”
Her concern pinched his chest. “Let me worry about that. Which key? Why do you have a thousand of these things?”
“The red one. Everything inside the store is locked in case someone gets past the system.”
He frowned as he held the door open. “This might not be the safest place to live, Lex.”
As she passed, her scent touched him. Invited him to touch her. Taste her. “Since I spend almost every hour here anyway, it only makes sense.”
Beside the door, Lexi uncovered a hidden keypad and punched in a code. She re-covered it with a snap and shot Jax a sad lopsided grin. “Now I have to kill you.”
He matched her grin, mesmerized at how her face was already so familiar to him. She locked the door, her gaze searching the exterior through the glass without turning on a light.
Jax eased up behind her, put his hands on her waist. “Who did you think I was?”
“Photographers,” she murmured. “Or a reporter. They’re always around, but they hover when I’ve got high-profile clients.”
“Who were they watching for?”
“Jessica Love, mostly. But Bailey Simmons came this week too.” She shook her head. “Bad scheduling. I’ll never make that mistake again.”
“Daughters of the biggest producer and director in Tinseltown? Yeah, probably not the best ladies to have in the same location in the same week without a LeCroix security force.”
“If I could afford one, a lot of my stress and problems would disappear.”