Dixie popped her front door open, blowing her a kiss. “Now, if the situation takes a turn, and you change your mind and decide you wanna make some business your business, you call us. We’ll keep the boys.” She winked, giving her the famous sexy smolder.
Em rolled her eyes back at Dixie, digging for her keys in her purse. “There will be no makin’ anything but decisions about color palettes and whether I’ll have a big plate of fries with my hamburger, so never you mind with your lewd suggestions. Now, give the boys a kiss for me, and have a great time.”
*
Intentions and hell. There was something about a road and the paving thereof. Em just couldn’t put the two thoughts together well enough to clearly summon the metaphor.
All while she and Jax pored over paint swatches at Lucky’s, while they’d strolled the aisles of antiques stores and furniture departments in Johnsonville, while they’d tested mattresses, while they’d had a glass of wine and a bowlful of creamy pasta, Em had tried to remember the metaphor.
It applied to good intentions—none of which she had after spending the evening with Jax. There wasn’t a pure thought in her head. Not when he’d sat beside her on the pillow-top mattress and his thigh had brushed against hers, creating a shiver of awareness so intense, she’d bitten the inside of her cheek to bring it under control.
Not when she’d sunk so low into one of the mattresses they were testing, he’d offered his hand to pull her up, and she’d ended up falling into him, resisting the insane urge to rest her cheek on his stubbled jaw.
Not when he’d placed his hand at the small of her back to usher her through the restaurant. Or when he’d offered her a forkful of his meatball so she could have a taste.
Touchy.
Jax had been touchy. Not in a “How many hands do you have, you octopus?” way. In the best possible way. The way that set her skin to a delicious slow burn, made her feel sexy, desirable, like a woman.
Every last indecent thought she could cram into her head was swimming right beside her raw nerve endings. She’d never met a man who’d left her so edgy with awareness, who did things to her insides with just a glance.
Now, as they sat under a secluded tree in his driveway, bare of its leaves, while the creek babbled in her ears, and Jax filled up her Jeep with his everything, her nerves were at their white-flag stage. It wasn’t like he could help filling up her Jeep—he was an enormous man, enormous men filled things up. But it wasn’t just his body filling up the space. It was him—his scent—his aura—him.
The glow of the dashboard lights made his hard jaw harder, the thick gleam of his hair soft and blurry around the edges.
“You’re good fun, Em. Thanks for coming with me tonight. I had a really good time.”
“Anything for Maizy.”
Jax leaned over the armrest between them and smiled—this was the devastatingly charming smile he’d bestowed upon her more than once tonight. Sexy and secretive with a hint of some flirt. “Was it really just for Maizy? I’d like to think it had a little something to do with all the charm I radiate.”
More flirting. He was teasing her, and the more he teased her, the stiffer she became. The more tightly strung she became, the more likely she was to say something stupendously stupid.
Em shifted in her seat, begging her body to move away when all it wanted to do was sprawl out on top of Jax’s. “I’m always happy to help out a coworker.”
He found her hand, running his finger over the outline of her red nail with a light touch. “Speaking of, how long have you worked for Call Girls?”
Work. She could talk work, if he would just stop rubbing sensual circles along her fingers. Em cleared her throat. “Just a few months as GM. I worked for our local lawyer, Hank Cotton, as his legal secretary before that. Dixie hired me when Cat retired to have a baby.”
He nodded his head, letting it roll to the headrest. His throat, long, strong, was exposed, every tendon, each muscle making her breathing hitch. “Right. I remember Caine saying you were a mediator when there was some contest for ownership of the company between him and Dixie. Caine said the two of them had to start their own phone-sex lines and win clients, right?”
“The phone-sex games. That’s what the girls and I call it.”
“Hah!” He barked the laugh. “Caine had to talk dirty to men? Can’t wait to tell the guys at our college reunion.”
Em’s head bobbed at the memory, her grin wide. “Actually, it was women he claimed he was doin’ the talkin’ to. He was so sure he’d win he bet Dixie he could take the harder road. We all thought he was gonna smoke her with all those celebrity voices he does, especially Sean Connery, but come to find out, he never talked to a single woman. Not one. He had some college friend hack the system to make it look like he was getting a bunch of calls.”
Jax winced, ducking his dark head playfully. “Confession time. That was me.”