“I’m sorry, Jaxon.”
“Yeah, me too,” I say, and clench down on my jaw.
“I was thinking…”
I cast her a quick glance, note the way she’s playing with the straps on her purse. “About?”
“That you could use a little help around your place, and with Cassie. Everyone needs a break once in a while right? You’re giving me one with my car.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“That maybe I could help you around the house. Cook, clean, babysit, teach you how to braid Cassie’s hair,” she says with a grin. “Although I hear you make a mean Nightmare Moon.”
I laugh at that. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. What’s the going rate for something like that?” I ask. I’m not hurting for money. I have a very successful business, and have been thinking about hiring someone to help me with the house. I just haven’t found the time to look more into it. That, and I don’t trust too many people with my belongings—time in juvenile hall will do that to you—or with my daughter.
“Well, I was thinking, instead of money, I could spend the next couple weeks working off the repairs to the car. You’re helping me, I’m helping you.”
“Tit for tat?”
Shit, now I’m thinking of her tits.
“Yeah, exactly.”
I mull that over as I pull up to Cassie’s school. I jump out as she unbuckles herself. The second I open her door, she hops from the car and is about to take off until I bend to give her a hug and kiss. “I’ll see you later, kiddo.”
“Bye, Daddy. Bye, Rachel,” she says and I wave to the playground monitor as Cassie runs to catch up to her friends. I slide back into the car and pull in to traffic.
“Okay, so tit for tat. I like it.”
I like it a lot. Which is a real fucking problem.
“Um, just one thing you should know, Jaxon.”
“What’s that?”
She continues to twist the strap of her purse. “What you heard this morning…from my friends.”
I shake my head and laugh. “I heard a lot from your friends.”
“Yeah, but the part about—”
“Me having killed someone. For the record, I never killed anyone. Gave a few good beatings to a few bad people who deserved them, but I never murdered anyone.”
Rachel nods her head. “Good to know, but I’m talking about—”
“You needing to get laid?”
3
Rachel Rachel
OMFG.
Jaxon might not have killed anyone, but I sure as hell plan to. The second I get home, there are four necks I’m going to break. Slowly. Painfully. Ecstatically. Okay, yeah, I get it. I was about to bring it up, set the facts straight, but hearing those words coming from his mouth, all sexy and blatant and suggestive like that—it’s possible I imagined the suggestive part—well that’s shit is messing with my head, and my body.
“I…I…” Jesus what am I supposed to say?
Oh, yes, they were right. I do need to get laid. Are you up for that job, too?
“Hey, it’s okay,” he says. “I know they were just giving you a hard time.”
I swallow. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me. I’m just offering to help you out with the house and Cassie. A business arrangement, that’s all.” Lord knows I’m off men. Not only am I a bad judge of character—guys seem to be one thing only to end up being something else entirely—I’m not about to let anything or anyone derail me again. I want to be a lawyer. I want to champion legal causes for the greater good of society and help those in need of assistance who might not otherwise be able to afford it. I want to help children, and other victims of domestic abuse. The subject is very near and dear to my heart.
Muscles tense, he nods, and stares straight ahead. “I know. That’s all I want, too. Strictly business,” he says, a guarded note in his voice.
“Okay, good,” I say, not wanting to examine the weird, unwanted ball of disappointment settling in my gut. “I can come by tonight and help get the place cleaned up.” I glance at my watch. “My shift at Pizza Villa doesn’t start until eight, so I have plenty of time.”
As he drives, I take in his perfect features, the tattoos on his body. Do they have a deeper meaning? Is Cassie’s mother’s name on there? Not that it’s any of my business. Nor do I want it to be. But he did say he was sorry she was gone.
“Perfect. I’ll get your spark plugs fixed and look for a radiator core.” He casts me a glance. “So, uh, these roommates of yours. They seem a bit younger, maybe a little less mature than you.”
“They are. They’re all first year. I’m fourth. Still, I don’t think I was ever that juvenile.” I never had the luxury.
He shrugs, and spears his finger through his hair, mussing it up and making him look impossibly sexier. “Just girls having fun.”
“I don’t have time for fun. I never did,” I say, then mentally kick myself. He doesn’t need to know those things about me.
Stop blabbering around him, already.
“I remember fun,” he says and grins. “At least I think I do.” I laugh with him. “How did you end up rooming with four freshmen?”
“I transferred here—”
“From New York,” he states.
I stiffen in my seat. “How do you know that?”
“Your license plate.”
I relax, and look at him closer. For a big, scary tattooed guy, he’s pretty observant. “I transferred last minute, because Penn State is where I ultimately want to go to law school.” Not a lie. But I’m not about to tell him about my crazy ex. We both clearly have secrets in that arena.
“Law school. I’m impressed.”
“A single dad who works all hours and takes good care of his daughter. I’m impressed.”
“All hours? How do you know that?”
“Neighbors, remember.”
He holds my gaze for a moment, and says, “And yet it took two months and a broken car for us to speak.”
“We’re both busy. Cassie is a full-time
