He stormed out of my room, and a minute later I heard his truck start. I went to the window and watched him fly down the road. Instead of sulking about the money, I tried desperately to focus on thoughts of Jax.
I took my time washing up and changing into sweats. I grabbed a package of microwave popcorn and walked over to Jax’s. He opened the door shirtless, barefoot, and wearing a huge grin. He had on my favorite pair of jeans. I smiled, but he could see the sadness in my eyes. “What’s wrong?” He held the door open but stood in front of me and wouldn’t let me pass. He pointed to my house. “What did he do to you?”
“Nothing. It’s not a big deal. He’s gone now.”
“Come here.” We hugged for longer than normal. His chest was hard against my cheek. I could feel the indentions on the sides of his narrow hips. Jackson was a man and I was a woman, and when we were pressed against each other like that, the whole world made sense.
I pulled away reluctantly and held up the popcorn. “Can I pop this here?”
“I’ll do it.”
I followed him into the kitchen. “What do you want to watch tonight?”
“I’ll let you pick. Lady’s choice. But first, why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“Nothing that unusual.” I hopped up on the counter next to the old yellow refrigerator. “My dad was drunk. He didn’t go to work.”
Jax started the microwave, came over, and stood between my legs. He pressed his palms to my thighs and rubbed them up and down. “I like these.”
“My sweats?”
“Yeah. I like it when it’s just you and me like this. Comfortable.”
My heart was racing. “Now you’re all words and feelings. What’s gotten into you, Fisher?”
“It was hard to see you with Hunter.”
I cocked my head to the side. “It was hard to stare at this for two days.” I pointed to the fading hickey on his neck.
“I know.”
“He called me a cunt.”
“Who?”
“My dad. He’s never called me that before.”
Jax closed his eyes in disgust and shook his head. “I’ll kill him,” he whispered. That wasn’t the first time Jax had said something like this, but we always knew it was just talk. “God, Em. You don’t deserve that.”
I started tearing up. “I don’t want to cry any more today.”
He tilted my chin up so we were eye to eye, and then he ran his index finger down my jawline. He studied my face, looking from my eyes to my mouth. There was reverence in his expression.
“What?” I said, and then his lips were on mine. He kissed me slowly, sweetly. He gently braced my neck with both hands and deepened the kiss. I anchored my hands on the outsides of his biceps. He felt bigger to me. He felt safe, warm, familiar. When he broke away, he opened his eyes and smiled for a moment. I smiled back, and then he kissed me again. I moved my hands to his ribs and pulled him closer. He trailed kisses up my jawline and to my ear. My breath was quickening. Near my ear, in a low voice, he said. “I have wanted to do that for so long.”
“Was it okay?” I said nervously.
“Shhh, it was perfect.”
He bit my earlobe gently. I whimpered.
“Take your hands off her.” My father’s slurred voice traveled down the dark hallway.
Jax pulled back but kept his hands on my neck and his eyes focused on mine. I was frozen.
“I said take your fucking hands off her.”
Jackson’s eyes started to water and then he squeezed them shut like he was trying to make us disappear. He shook his head and whispered, “This is not happening.”
“It’s okay, Jax. Let me go. It’ll be okay.”
He let go of my neck finally and just mouthed the words, I’m sorry.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Get your ass home, Emerson.” My father’s voice shook the walls around us.
“Okay, Dad.” I hopped off the counter and walked toward him. “Let’s go,” I said to him, and pointed to the door.
“I’m gonna have a word with this degenerate first.”
“Dad, I kissed him. Nothing else happened. That’s the first time we ever kissed.” I looked back at Jackson, whose eyes were now wide with panic.
“Shut up! Get your ass home now!”
I pleaded one last time, “Please, don’t hurt him.”
I stood just outside of the front door and listened. All I heard him say was, “Touch her again and I’ll kill you. I got a loaded shotgun waiting for you at my house.”
When I heard him coming toward the front, I ran home, into my bedroom, and shut the door.
He didn’t come in right away. I think he had to drink some of that nice bottle he’d bought with my egg ranch money before he was ready to scream in my face. For a while, I thought he might leave me alone, but that wouldn’t be his style.