Contents (43)
- Dedication
- Contents
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Also by J. Lynn
- Also by Jennifer L. Armentrout
- Credits
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
He planted one hand on the desk, right on top of the spreadsheets. “Do tell.”
Swiveling the chair, I angled the right side of my body toward his. “Well, considering that this bar is the only thing my mom will leave me one day, I have every right to look at those papers.”
Something flashed over his face as he tilted his head to the side. “Leave you this bar?”
“Mom has a will. Has had one for years. So unless she’s changed it recently, which I doubt has been high on her to-do list, if something happened to her, God forbid, the bar is mine.”
Again, there was a strange tightening to the skin around his eyes I didn’t understand. A moment passed. “Is that what you want? The bar?”
Hell to the no. I didn’t say that.
“What would you do with this bar if you did unexpectedly end up with it?” he demanded.
I said the first thing that popped in my head. “I’d probably sell it.”
Jax drew back from the desk, straightening to his full height. His eyes were like shards of glass as he stared down at me. Gone was the teasing, flirting bartender. “If you don’t care about this bar—”
“I never said that.” Not exactly.
He ignored that. “Then why are you here? For your mom? That’s a lost cause and you damn well know that. And you didn’t stay at a hotel last night, did you?”
His rapid change of subject left my head wheeling. There were days when I thought she was a lost cause and then others where I couldn’t allow myself to think that. “Thanks for sending the cab, but—”
“God, you’re going to be a pain in my ass.” He moved away from the desk, scrubbing his fingers through his damp hair. The muscles in his back tensed under his shirt.
I drew in a sharp breath, feeling my cheeks redden once more. “I’m not a pain in any part of your body, buddy.”
He barked out a laugh as he faced me. “You’re not? I told you what kind of crap your mom is messed up in, and the fact that a lot of nasty folks want a piece of her, and you’re still here. On top of your window being busted out—”
“Look, I get that my mom is in trouble and all that. Newsbreak, but that’s nothing that new to me.” Well, she did seem to be in a lot more trouble than normal, but at this point, whatever. “And the stuff with my car? I was in that house for a handful of minutes. There is no way someone saw me that quickly. Not to mention, my car was parked in a bar parking lot with a strip club across the street. These things happen.”
“Do they?” He folded his arms across his chest again. “Are you frequently around stripper bars.”
“No,” I hissed.
A muscle fluttered along his jaw. We were engaged in an epic stare-down for what felt like an eternity before he spoke again. “Why are you here, Calla? Seriously? There’s nothing here for you. Your mom’s not. You don’t have family here. And from what I know of you, you’ve spent the last couple of years at college, not even making brief visits. Not judging, but you haven’t really cared this entire time. So, why now?”