Say You're Mine Page 10

  “Baby, you keep doing that and dinner is going to be ruined,” I tease.

  “Don’t care,” he mumbles into my neck as he continues to place kisses along my shoulder.

  “Well, I do. This is the first time I’ve cooked for you, and I don’t want a horror story that we’ll tell for years about how I burned the pork chops,” I say as I wriggle out of his hold. He’s all but pouting when I free myself. The puppy-dog look on this strong, hot-as-sin man is just too much to handle.

  “You, sir, are ridiculous. Dinner will be ready in 20 minutes. And don’t think I’m going to let go of whatever is bugging you.”

  His pouting continues as he leaves the kitchen, placing one more kiss on my cheek before heading to take a shower.

  I stopped our nuzzling session just in time, because the pork chops are cooked to perfection. The recipe was one of my mom’s that she used to make all the time. She said it was my dad’s favorite and that it was the first meal she made him. He always joked that he only married her for the pork chops.

  When I said I wanted to cook him dinner, I knew this was what I wanted to make. It made me feel like my mom was closer to me. I so wish I could call her right now to tell her all about the guy who’s stealing my heart.

  “So, now I ask you, what’s going through that head of yours?” I didn’t even hear Jaxson come back into the kitchen.

  “Just thinking about my mom. I do it from time to time when I miss her.”

  We make our plates and sit at his table. It’s not big—just a small table that can sit four—but it’s perfect for the two of us.

  “What made you think of her today?”

  “The pork chops. The recipe is hers. She always made them for my dad—his favorite.”

  He takes a bite and all but moans as he swallows. God, that was fucking hot.

  “I can see why. This is delicious. Thank you for cooking.”

  “You’re welcome. I liked it. Thank you for letting me use your key to get in. Helped to have this all ready so we weren’t eating late.”

  “Speaking of . . .” He takes another bite and then a big breath. “I wanted to ask you something.”

  What does he want to ask? We were talking about cooking and the key and—

  Oh my God, is he asking me to move in with him? I mean, I want to, but I know it’s too soon. Tori would slap me. We need to check off a lot more boxes before that can happen.

  “What is it?” I take a sip of my water, trying to temper the anticipation.

  “Actually, let me show you something first.”

  Since we’re almost done eating, it doesn’t take us long to finish our plates, at which point he leads me back to one of the extra bedrooms in the loft. It’s a three-bedroom space, which is way too much for him. But I know why he got this place, and I know what it means to him.

  He opens up a door to the smallest of the bedrooms, and I can’t believe what I’m seeing: a canvas and an easel set up by one of the windows, a table full of brushes and paints, and a stool begging to be sat on while art is created.

  “What is this?” I ask, knowing but still not being able to wrap my mind around this.

  “Your art studio. If you want it to be.”

  I turn to look at him—his arms shoved into the pockets of his workout pants, looking so nervous but so adorable.

  This man, who didn’t think that he could be good enough for me, who thought he would hurt me and not protect me, just gave me the greatest gift I’ve ever received.

  “Jaxson, I don’t know what to say. Thank you. Oh my God, thank you!” I can’t contain my excitement anymore, so I jump into his arms, wrap my legs around his waist, and kiss the hell out of him.

  He takes me to the stool and leans on it. I’m now sitting in his lap and getting very naughty ideas of him and me in this space.

  “When did you do this?”

  He smiles. “Just now, while you were finishing dinner. You had left the supplies here after I’d gotten them for you the other day. Inspiration struck when I was at the gym and I couldn’t wait to surprise you.”

  I lean in and kiss him, showing him how grateful I am for this thoughtful gift.

  “I never asked you the question,” he says as he breaks his lips from mine.

  “You just showed me my own studio space. Whatever you want, the answer is ‘yes.’”

  He laughs. I love that sound.

  “Let me ask it to say I did. I know you miss painting, but your apartment isn’t big enough for you to really create the art you want. I have the space, so I set this up. I made you a key, so you can come and go as you please. So, I ask you, Annabelle, would you accept this key? Make some of my space yours?”

  I bring my lips to his again. God, this man is everything I could have ever wanted.

  “Yes, Jaxson. Thank you. I love it. I love y—.”

  Oh my God, I almost said “I love you.” Shit.

  But he noticed, because the smirk on his face says is all. I am completely busted.

  “What was it you were going to say?” he says playfully.

  “Um . . . I love it. This space. And this stool. It’s very good for painting.”

  He laughs. “Try again, baby, because I’m dying to hear what I think you were about to say. And I think I want to say it too.”

  I swallow down the lump in my throat. He wouldn’t be egging me on if he didn’t feel the same way.

  “Fine. I love you. I love you, Jaxson Kelly, and I know it’s probably too soon and we’re still figuring things out, but I love you.”

  Jaxson’s smile is like none I’ve seen from him before. It’s big and bright—such a contrast to the dark and brooding man I’d pined after for so many months. His smile is so big it reaches his eyes—those intense, beautiful brown eyes that I was in love with long before I loved the man they belonged to.

  He takes a strand of hair and places it behind my ear. His hand continues the gentle slide from my cheek to my chin, lifting it up to place the softest of kisses on my lips.

  “I love you too, Annabelle. So much.”

  26

  Jaxson

  I had a feeling Annabelle would be excited about the art space I made for her. I didn’t realize she’d be so excited that she would give me a blowjob for the first time in appreciation.

  I’ll get her 100 art studios if it means getting to see Annabelle with her mouth around my cock. She might still be learning, but she’s very eager to please. And she follows directions really, really well.

  I didn’t lie earlier—I love this girl with everything in me.

  We’re now in my bed, with her body draped over mine, exhausted from the night. After she went down on me in the studio, I returned the favor. Twice.

  “So, what was on your mind earlier?” she says in her quiet tone—the one she uses when she wants to ask me something but is nervous about my reaction. I’ve told her a thousand times she can ask me anything, but her hesitance is always there.

  I don’t want to tell her, but I can’t lie to her. I promised her I’d be honest. I just never thought I’d have to talk about this . . . well . . . ever.

  “I got a letter in the mail today. Well, I’ve gotten a few of them recently. From my dad. From prison.”

  She continues to trace the tattoos on my chest. She loves doing it and I love the feel of her hands on me. And during this conversation, the touches help ease the anger I’m feeling right now toward Stan.

  “What did he say?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t opened any of them.”

  She stops tracing and rolls off me. We are now facing each other, heads propped up by our arms. I take her free hand, because if I’m going to talk about it, I need her touch to keep me calm.

  “Why haven’t you opened them?”

  I take a breath, trying to figure out the best way to put this, for her and for me.

  “I don’t care what he has to say. When he went to jail, I was happy. Thrilled even. It might not have been for Abigail’s deat
h, but I feel like it was karma catching up with him. He got eight years, and there’s about a year left in his sentence. I have a feeling I know what he’s going to say, and I just don’t want to know. I don’t want him in my life, and if I open those letters, I feel like I’m letting him back in.”

  She releases my hand, only to go back to tracing the ink on my body.

  “I won’t pretend that I know what it was like for you as a child, or how it felt to lose your sister, and I know your dad was not a good man. He deserved to do that time in prison.”

  She pauses, and I have a feeling I’m not going to like her next words.

  “But everyone deserves a second chance, Jaxson.”

  “Not him, Annabelle.” My tone is much harsher than I want it to be. It’s not her fault that my father is scum.

  “Just hear me out.” She sits up and I follow. This conversation is now turning into something much heavier than pillow talk.

  “I’m not saying you have to give him a second chance, but I think you should at least consider it. Open the letters. See what he has to say. You know him, so you’ll be able to gauge how you want to act after you’ve read them. But assumptions are a horrible way to live, and they can lead to regrets. You’ve made this wonderful life for yourself. You’ve left your past behind, you have a successful business, and, well, you’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been.”

  I lean in for a kiss. I know she’s not finished, but hearing the pride in her voice was too much for me to handle.

  “Be the bigger man, Jaxson. For the first time in your relationship, the ball is in your court. I’m not saying you have to let him back into your life or go pick him up when he’s released, but at least open the letters and make the decision for yourself.”

  She’s right. I know she is. And when she puts it like that, it makes a hell of a lot of sense.

  Before I can think myself out of it, I get out of bed and retrieve my gym bag from the living room. I didn’t realize when I’d stuffed the letter in there earlier that I’d be opening it tonight.

  Then again, I didn’t think I’d have to tell Annabelle about it either.

  I flip on the light when I re-enter the bedroom. Annabelle is sitting up, now with a tank top on. Though I never like to see her clothed in my bed, I’m glad she is. If I don’t do this now, I’m never going to do it, and her tits have a way of distracting me.

  I sit next to her and stare at the envelope. She puts her arm around me, silently giving me the strength and encouragement I need.

  I rip the letter open. The handwriting is familiar, a little shakier than I remember, but familiar all the same.

  Jaxson,

  This is my third letter, and I’d place money on the fact that you haven’t read the other two. I don’t blame you, kid. I don’t know if I’d read a letter from me either.

  But I wanted to let you know that I’m getting out in a few weeks. They’re letting me out early. Good behavior and all that.

  I know I don’t deserve it, and I don’t have a right to ask you this, but I’d like to see you. I’ve had time to think, and I know I did you and your sister wrong. And I’m sorry. I truly am.

  I’d like to tell you that in person. Maybe start with a clean slate?

  I’ll be at your Uncle Stew’s place. I hope I hear from you.

  Stan

  I read the letter over and over and pretty much memorize it.

  He’s getting out.

  He wants to see me.

  He wants a second chance.

  He’s sorry.

  It’s too much to wrap my head around.

  “I don’t know.” It’s all I can say. I don’t know what to do. Or what to think.

  “You don’t have to do anything right now. You have some time to think. But for what it’s worth, I think you should hear him out. See what he has to say. Anyone can write meaningful words in a letter. Look him in the eye and judge for yourself.”

  She’s right. I’ve known Stan long enough to know his tells—to know when he’s pulling a con. Well, I learned that one a little too late.

  As I lie back down with my girl wrapped in my arms, I know she’s right. I need to hear him out.

  I just don’t know if I want to.

  27

  Annabelle

  I knew my life would change once Jaxson and I got together, but I didn’t know it would change so much.

  And in all the best ways possible.

  It’s been two weeks since he showed me the space he’d set up for me in his loft, and I’ve been painting almost every single day. The passion I once had for my art, which had faded after I left college and when my mom died, is back in full force. It’s like years of ideas and creativity have been bottled up and are now exploding onto the canvas.

  And then the unthinkable happened. I was discovered. Sort of.

  I gave Jaxson one of the first pictures I painted. It was fitting considering he’s the one who brought my passion back to life. He was so proud of it. It was more of an abstract piece, and he took it to The Pit and hung it up—right at the front where everyone could see it.

  Turns out, one of the gym members runs a children’s museum and she’s been looking for an art teacher. Jaxson couldn’t make the introductions quickly enough.

  In a whirlwind of events, we went for coffee, she told me about the children’s art classes she was looking to begin, and she offered me a job on the spot. I was floored and accepted before I even knew how much it paid.

  The answer? Pretty well. So much so that today’s my last day at Perks.

  It’s not the exact dream my mom and I thought of all those years ago, but it’s pretty damn close. And I have to think she’s smiling down on me right now, beaming with pride.

  I’m going to miss this place, but I’m leaving with happy memories. Because I worked here, I met Tori, and in turn met Scarlett. I first saw Jaxson thanks to this place, and strangely enough, if I hadn’t walked home alone that night, I don’t know if Jaxson and I would be together right now.

  Everything happens for a reason. Just like my mom always said.

  “You ready to go?” Tori asks as we grab our purses. We both closed the café tonight; it was fitting to do it together on my last shift. “Don’t keep me waiting if Jaxson’s friends are as hot as he is.”

  God, I’m going to miss this girl.

  “Yes. I’m ready.”

  With a flick of the switch and a turn of the key, I close the chapter on the place that’s been responsible for so much in my life.

  To celebrate my new job, and my last night at Perks, Tori, Scarlett, and I are meeting Jaxson, Kalum, and Maverick out for drinks. I’ve never met them before, though Jaxson has told me a little bit about them. Tori has it in her head that they are, in her words, “fine as fuck.”

  Like I said, I’m going to miss working with this girl.

  Scarlett is waiting for us outside the sports bar, which isn’t far from the café and the gym. Jaxson had texted me to say the guys were already inside; they’d snagged a table and didn’t want to lose it.

  Once we walk in, my eyes find Jaxson’s immediately. I’m pretty sure I could be in the middle of Times Square on New Year’s Eve and I’d be able to find him.

  “Holy shit, Annabelle! You told me he didn’t have any hot friends,” Scarlett exclaims.

  I shake my head as Scarlett and Tori’s jaws are nearly hitting the floor at the sight of Kalum and Maverick.

  “No, Scarlett, I said I didn’t know them.”

  “Well, I’d like to make it very clear that from this point forward, we are having group outings once a week.”

  I turn to look at Tori, who has never not had a comment when it comes to a good-looking man. But she’s speechless.

  Hmm, I wonder which one has my friend tongue-tied for the first time ever?

  Once we get to the table, we make introductions and the conversation starts flowing. Scarlett and Tori have put their tongues away, and honestly, this is a pretty fun night. I not
ice that Kalum and Maverick have checked out my friends as well, and my imagination starts running wild to see how all of this is going to play out.

  “Okay, folks, now that the small talk portion of the conversation is over, it’s time to really get to know each other,” Kalum says with a devious look in his eyes.

  “Oh fuck. Here we go,” Maverick says as he takes a long pull of his beer.

  “What’s he talking about?” I ask Jaxson, who has kept his arm around me all night. But Kalum answers instead.

  “Well, my sweet Annabelle, we need to know more about the woman who has stolen our friend’s heart,” Kalum says theatrically. “And since you brought two beautiful ladies with you, I feel that we should all get to know each other on a more intimate level.”

  “Dude, I’ve told you, no one is going to have a threesome with you,” Maverick says as he smacks his brother upside the head.

  We all laugh. Kalum is too much. He could give Tori a run for her money in the flirt department.

  “No, brother, that’s not what I was thinking. I was thinking of a little game called Never Have I Ever. Are we all familiar?”

  Unfortunately, I am familiar. I played it in college a few times and had to lie my ass off when it came to the sexual questions. For once, I might be able to tell the truth.

  “All right, I’ll go first,” Kalum says. “And remember, you drink if you have done it. Let’s see, we’ll start simple. Never have I ever . . . had a beer?”

  We all laugh at the easy question he tosses up, and of course, everyone takes a drink after clinking our glasses together.

  “All right, my turn, buddy. You want to get to know us, let’s get to the nitty-gritty,” Tori says playfully. “Never have I ever stolen something.”

  All three guys take a sip of their beer, and so does Scarlett, which comes as a shock to all of us.

  “Scarlett! Really?” Tori says, holding her hand to her heart.

  “Yes, big sister. It was a dare in high school. And it was a tube of lipstick.”

  “A rebel. I like it,” Kalum jokes.