“I heard thirty.”
“You heard wrong,” Rimer said.
“Whatever.” Jax didn’t doubt it, and how much over budget they were didn’t matter to him. “Since you didn’t pick us up for your movie, I’ve found a lot of work. I’d be giving up a lot, taking my boys off sure things. You’re the one over budget. Tell me what you can give us to make it worth the risk.”
“I can pay you the minimum SAG contract rate.”
The Screen Actors Guild minimum contract payment was far less than what Jax negotiated for a job. He made a low hum in his throat. “That’s not inspiring. In fact, it’s demeaning.”
“I’m not done,” Rimer said. “If you can pull us back into the black, I’ll give you ten percent of the money you save us.”
Jax paused. “I must have heard you wrong.”
“No, you didn’t. You save me twenty million, and I’ll give you two.”
“Two million,” he clarified.
“That’s the deal.”
Two million was one-tenth what he’d made on a movie at the height of his acting career, but it was a hell of a lot of money to a stuntman. Jax was pretty sure he could do it. And that kind of money would float Renegades for a while. Buy new equipment. Bring on new guys. Ease the burden on Jax. Maybe he could even have a life. “Send me the script and tell me where you’re at in the filming process. I’ll let you know.”
He said good-bye and disconnected, then glanced over his shoulder toward Lexi. She’d moved to another table where two bridesmaids sat and eased to the edge of a chair, leaning in to hear something one of the women said to her. She laughed, her head tipping back, eyes sparkling. And that damned dimple appeared in her cheek.
Jax instantly returned to that night in New York, the front of his body pressed to her back, the feel of her hair against his chest, the sound of her sweet laugh.
He realized now that had been the very moment—when she’d laughed at Jax’s stupidity on the horse—the moment he’d fallen in love with her.
She wanted for her business and her life what Jax had just been offered for his. And he wanted that for her too. He wanted her to experience this sense of relief. Of hope.
Which meant getting the hell out of her way.
Chapter 21
Just watching Jax move made Lexi ache. She knew he was hurting, yet he still danced with Jessie, hung out to bullshit with Connor and others. He knew one hell of a lot of people here. Most seemed to love him, though she’d noticed a few people move the other direction when someone in the circle initiated a conversation with Jax, but it didn’t seem to bother him. And his earlier comment about being used to having people being ashamed of him cut at her.
Claudia Love stood with him now, her arm around his waist. He had his arm over her shoulders in a circle of Claudia and Stan’s friends, giving Stan a ration about something. But Stan gave it right back, and everyone laughed.
The sound of Jax’s laughter made Lexi’s chest warm and her belly ache. An hour had passed, and he hadn’t tried to talk to her again. He seemed so tired. As if the last hour had drained him of all his energy. She wanted to take him home. Wanted to undress him, make love to him, fall asleep with him.
Jax shook Stan’s hand, kissed Claudia on the cheek, and broke from the group.
Panic prickled her skin. She didn’t want him to leave, which didn’t make any sense. He turned toward the bar, spoke with the bartender a moment. Lexi couldn’t let him leave with this wedge between them.
She pulled one packet of ibuprofen and one packet of acetaminophen from her clutch and approached him at the bar. He’d only had two drinks—the champagne and one glass of Connor’s scotch. She’d been watching him. So when he turned glazed eyes on her, she knew something was wrong.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m sorry for coming here, baby. Stupid. Don’t worry, I’m going home.”
She wanted to touch him. Kiss him. “You look like you could use these.”
She slid the meds toward him. His eyes lowered to the packages and his mouth turned in a smile. The bartender set a bottle of water on the bar in front of Jax. He thanked the man and lifted his gaze to Lexi. “Baby,” he said, relief sliding through his voice as he reached for the meds. “If I were an investment banker, I’d kiss you right now.”
She frowned as he opened the meds and swallowed them with the water. “If you were an investment banker, I wouldn’t want you to kiss me. At all.”
He set the water on the bar and met her eyes. “You are so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at you. Good thing I love what’s on the inside too, or…” He made a cutting motion over his throat.
He seemed…drunk. Then another thought occurred to her. “Jax, have you taken something tonight?”
His eyes narrowed, then a slow, brittle smile turned his mouth. “Like…drugs?”