Kiss Marry Kill, page 5
That was all the assurance he needed.
Lacing his fingers with hers, and without looking back, they ran out of the packed arena laughing and breathless, faintly hearing the boyfriend yelling for her. Once they were out of the stadium she let go of his hand and bent over, hands on her knees to catch her breath. “I can’t believe that just happened,” she said, still giggling.
“Which part? The asshole ignoring you or running out of there?”
“The kissing you part, mostly,” she said, still a little breathless, the hot summer sun beaming down on them and the hum from the cheering crowd behind them. “But all of it. That’s not like me. At all. Oh God, it felt so good.”
He smiled, feeling ten feet tall. “It’s not? You don’t go around kissing random strangers at a baseball game? And my kisses usually feel good. You’re welcome,” he winked.
“I was talking more about the fact that I did something so crazy. But the kiss was good too. Oh, and I go around kissing random guys all the time. Especially next to my boyfriend of two years. How’d you know?” She was beaming and extended her hands and spun around while laughing. “This is so wild!”
She was so damn cute. Her baseball cap falling off mid-spin but that didn’t stop her. The kiss was phenomenal and so was the “great escape,” but the way she was acting . . . it made him think there was something deeper than what had just happened. And he wanted to know what that something was. But he especially wanted to know why she’d stayed with that dickhead for so long. Jax had kind of imagined they were on their first and last date, not in a long-term relationship.
“Two years.” He scrunched his face. “Don’t really know you, but seems like that’s two years too long to be with a guy who doesn’t want to kiss you all the time. Because I gotta say, I’ve just had a small taste and I want to kiss some more. A lot more.”
Her face turned a sweet shade of pink and she looked down at the foam finger she held. Yep, she was just getting cuter by the minute. But he preferred her happy and spinning around to shy and embarrassed. He’d seen her shy and embarrassed already. Hell, the entire stadium had seen that. He wanted to wipe that image out of his brain—and hers.
“By the way, I’m Jackson Irons,” he said, holding his hand out to her. “But everyone calls me Jax.”
Bending down to pick up her hat, she smoothed out her ponytail and then put the cap back on. “I’m Megan Cruz,” she said, shaking his hand. She smiled, still a little on the shy side. He needed to coax the giddiness and the confidence out of her again.
“Well, Megan Cruz, as far as I can tell you’ve got two choices,” he said, still holding her hand in the air mid-shake. It was so small and soft compared to his. “You can go back in there and deal with an undoubtedly angry boyfriend—who, honestly, seems like a dick—or we can go have lunch.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“We’ve kissed. Not exactly strangers anymore,” he teased and rubbed his thumb over her hand, not letting go. He couldn’t help it, he liked the feeling and the way her eyes widened and her lips turned up with every contact. It was as if she’d been deprived of affection. Damn, he could fix that. No problem. He’d love to start that job immediately, actually. “And I feel like I owe you a meal or something after that kiss.”
Please say yes. Please say yes.
She pulled her hand away and fumbled nervously with the foam finger, about to tear a chunk out of it when her cell phone rang. Looking at the screen, she ignored the call and slid it back into the pocket of her jean shorts.
“It’s the douchebag?” Jax asked.
“His name is Richard.”
Looking disgusted, he shook his head. “Seriously? Richard? The name says it all. He’s a dick—literally,” he said, making her laugh loudly. “Jax is a way cooler name.”
She looked over his shoulder as if trying to decide what she was going to do, or maybe it was to see if Dick would show up and fight for her. That’s what he would’ve done if he was Dick but then again, no guy at a baseball game would be kissing his girl, especially while he sat next to her. He reached down and took the foam finger she was destroying. “I’m just going to hold on to this while you make your decision. Poor finger doesn’t deserve your torture.”
She laughed again. “I uh . . . I don’t . . .” She shook her head side to side. “Richard’s going to be so mad at me, not that I necessarily care, but he’s my boyfriend. It feels wrong that I kissed you.”
“Does it? I thought it felt spec-fucking-tacular,” he said, and then added, in a serious tone, “If I was your man, I’d question what the fuck I did wrong to make my girl want to kiss another man. Then I’d kick that other’s man’s ass for touching my girl. We’ve been out here for about ten minutes, I don’t see Dick running out to find you.”
“He wouldn’t run after me and risk making a scene.”
“Like I said, he’s a dick. Look, there’s a little Cuban café down the street. Stranger danger, I get it. But I promise, I’m a good guy. We can just walk. You have your phone in case you feel uncomfortable. Plus, it’s broad daylight.”
Her phone rang again and again she ignored the call, but this time she let out a deep breath, slid the phone back in her pocket, and finally said, “yeah, okay. Lunch sounds good.”
He wanted to pump his fist in the air triumphantly, right there in the middle of the street. But, he was trying to impress this woman, not make her think he was an immature idiot . . . like her boyfriend. So instead he smiled brightly, because she deserved to know it felt like a privilege that she wanted to spend time with him.
* * *
Oh God. What did I just do? And why is this man so happy to be going to a café with me? He doesn’t even know me. I’m not that fun.
“You like baseball, huh?” he asked, causing her to whip her head to the side to look at him. Her mind was a jumbled mess of questions and worry. Accidentally, his hand brushed hers, which made her heart skip but also made her fear bubble up. Her parents were going to have a fit. Richard was surely on the phone with them right now telling them what had happened.
“Megan? Baseball?” he repeated.
“Oh . . . uh . . . yeah. Love it. I try to catch at least one game every season.”
“If you love it, why don’t you come more often?”
“Richard never has time to come with me. I used to come to the games with my grandfather before he passed away.”
“Like I said, Dick’s a dick.”
She laughed—she’d been doing a lot of that in the few minutes she’d known Jax. She really liked that he said exactly what was on his mind—consequences be damned. He wasn’t the reserved kind of man she was accustomed to. “He’s just really busy, is all.” As soon as she said it, she felt like an idiot making excuses for the asshole.
“Too busy to take you to a game? Too busy to kiss you?”
“He’s about to make partner at Cruz, Cruz, and Castle. Damn it, I don’t know why I’m making excuses for him.”
“Isn’t your last name Cruz?”
“Yeah, it’s my parents’ firm. That’s how we met.” Megan saw Jax roll his eyes, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. It’s the same thing that had been swirling through her mind lately.
Richard was only with her because he needed her parents’ support to make partner.
“Stop thinking,” he said, as he opened the door of the café for her. “He’s not here. It’s just us right now. Let that shit go, at least for now.”
He was so easy. Surely, there was more to this man. But right now, all he’d shown her was simple fun. And she needed that. Hell, that’s what today was supposed to be about. One thing that she noted almost immediately was that Jax had not taken out his phone once—he was completely present, which was refreshing and unexpected.
This wasn’t the kind of place that had a hostess, so they just found a booth by a window and sat down. And being born and raised in Miami, she knew what she wanted; menus weren’t needed when there was a Cuban café on every corner in Miami, all serving the same thing. She wondered if he was also from Miami and if he spoke Spanish.
He was looking at her, his hands folded on the table, waiting patiently for the server. “Are you from Miami?” she asked him.
“Yep. Born and raised. You?”
“Yes. My parents were both born in Cuba. My dad moved here when he was fourteen and my mom when she was only four years old. So my Spanish isn’t great because they spoke mostly English around the house. My grandfather used to get so mad about that.” She smiled, but she knew it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She missed her grandfather, the only grandparent she’d had the opportunity to get to know. He was down to earth and hardworking, and he’d taught her all about baseball. “Do you speak Spanish?”
“Un poquito.” He held his index finger and thumb a few inches apart. “I took some Spanish in high school, and living here, things tend to stick. I can’t hold a conversation, though.”
“But you like the food, right? I mean who doesn’t like all the bread and fried goodness.”
“Damn straight I do.” He smiled from across the booth just as the waitress came by holding two menus in her hand.
“Do you need menus, or are you ready to order?” The waitress asked.
“I know what I want. How about you, Megan?” He said it in a soft, almost sultry voice, while looking straight into her eyes. Definitely, there was innuendo in the way he asked it that made her have to look away from him and to the waitress.
“Yes, let me have a pan con bistec and a coke, please.”
“I’ll have the same,” Jax said, and when the waitress left he continued. “So before we walked in you were telling me how Dick wants a job at your parents’ firm?”
“He has a job there already. He’s been there for a few years. He’s just working very hard to make partner.”
“And you? What do you do?”
“I start law school on Monday.” Groaning, she covered her eyes with her hands and slumped her shoulders as she said it. Why did I do that, she wondered. It was as if she could relax with this stranger, which made all her real feelings pour out. Walking out on Richard was the catalyst. So many things in her life were tied to Richard and the law firm, that if he wasn’t in the picture everything would be different. She needed to get so much off her chest, and if the poor man sitting across from her kept asking questions, he was about to get an earful. It was easy to open up when the person wasn’t there to judge or even to give an opinion—and she’d never see him again after today.
“Wow, you look so excited about that. I don’t think I’d do anything that made me feel the way you just looked.”
Sighing loudly, she began. “It’s a means to an end. In three years I’ll be an attorney and school will be behind me. It’s not exactly exciting, but it is what it is, and anyway, it’s too late to change things now.” The busser came to the table to drop off their drinks, and she busied herself opening up the soda can and pouring it in the glass. “And you? What exciting thing do you do, Jax Irons?”
“You mean aside from sweeping women off their feet at baseball games?” He smiled, and she couldn’t help but giggle. Giggle! She never ever giggled. “I’m in the Marines. I deploy on Monday.”
Her mouth hung open and all humor vanished instantly “Are you serious?”
“Yep.”
“Where?”
“Can’t say.”
“You don’t look like a Marine.”
Now it was his turn to laugh as he ran his fingers through his hair “What does a Marine look like?”
She pointed to his shaggy blonde hair, part of it falling down his eyes. “I don’t know . . . serious. Maybe shorter hair. Don’t they make you shave it or something?”
“They’ll shave it. Probably chop off an ear too.” He shrugged, surprisingly not caring. God, the man was ultra-relaxed; it was disconcerting. She didn’t know anyone like that.
“So why don’t you just get a haircut before you leave?”
“Lots of other things to do. Not a priority.”
“You have four days. How many things do you still have to do?”
“All of it.” He laughed and shrugged, unfazed and unstressed. “A buddy of mine is having a farewell barbeque for me tonight, wanna come?”
“I’m still dealing with lunch.” She brought her glass up and took a big slurp through her straw. And if you have a bunch of things to do on your list, should you be going to a party?”
“It’ll get done.”
“When?”
“The anxiety you have on my behalf is palpable.” He chuckled, finally opening his can of soda and pouring himself a drink. He’d been listening, giving her his full attention—no fidgeting, no interruptions, looking her straight in the eye. He was totally and completely sure of himself, not needing to fill the void with inane conversation or move around distractedly. He asked questions he wanted to know answers to, and listened carefully, asking more questions when more questions needed to be asked.
“Don’t leave for tomorrow what you can do for today.”
He quickly came back with, “Carpe Diem.”
“Don’t out-quote me, Irons.” She narrowed her eyes, but she couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face.
“So? Barbeque tonight?” he asked again just as the waitress brought them their steak sandwiches, made with soft toasted Cuban bread.
“I don’t know.” She hesitated. He was fun and charming and hot, but . . .
“Come on. You have four days ’til you start law school, after that it’ll be all work and no play.” He smiled—well, he never seemed to stop smiling, but this time she kept her eyes on his. And she noticed for the first time how the corners of his eyes crinkled. And was that a dimple? She hadn’t noticed before, either. Maybe because, even though his eyes never left hers, she would avert her eyes every time things got a little too serious, a little too flirty, or a little too deep.
Instead of answering, she took a big bite of her food and took an eternity chewing and not answering him. Mostly because she wasn’t sure what to say.
On one hand, spending more time with him seemed exciting and fun. A much needed diversion. On the other hand, she didn’t know him—and she had a boyfriend to deal with.
She was still chewing when he reached across the table, startling her, and wiped a crumb from her face with his thumb, cupping the side of her face in the process. It took all of her effort not to close her eyes and lean in to his big warm hand. An almost inaudible groan escaped his mouth and her heart started beating roughly against her chest.
And her decision was made. “You don’t even know me. Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer hanging out with your friends before you leave?”
“Yes, that’s why I’m going to the party. If I bring you along that’s me hanging out with my new friend, too,” he said, finally grabbing his sandwich and taking a bite. “How old are you, Megan?”
“Twenty-two.”
“A twenty-two-year-old woman about to start school should have a wild last hurrah. The kind of hurrah she thinks about when she’s fifty years old, settled in a boring marriage with a dick named Dick and two point five kids. You need a memory that’ll make you blush when you’re old and everything’s sagging and you can’t find your teeth. And a twenty-three-year-old Marine about to deploy for his second tour overseas deserves the same thing, but with a twenty-two-year-old woman who has a greedy tongue and sweet lips made for kissing said Marine.”
Her face pinked again. “Seems like the Marine in question is avoiding his to-do list.”
“You seem more preoccupied with my to-do list than you are with the tongue and lips situation. And the tongue situation, Megan? That’s something that should be repeated . . . soon.” And he took another bite, and her eyes moved to his lips and to the way his tongue slipped out to catch some of the crumbs. “Come on, Megan. You look like you need some fun in your life.”
“And you look like you need some order in yours,” she replied. “How about we do five things on your to-do list and I’ll go to the barbeque with you.”
“Fuck yeah!”
“Wow, that was easy.”
“Of course it was.” He stuffed the last bite of food into his mouth. “You know what this means, right?”
“What?”
“We have to do five fun things for you while we do five boring things for me.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
“So you don’t want to do five fun things?”
Megan pushed her plate back, no longer hungry. She felt emboldened, and this time she leaned over and reached for the lock of hair by his eye and pushed it back, needing to see those sexy green eyes. “With you? Yes, I think I do,” she said, her voice a little thicker, a little lower, and her eyes never leaving his.
It was time sweet sheltered Megan had some fun.
Chapter 4
PRESENT DAY
Megan’s internal clock was always off. Since she normally worked well into the evenings, she tended to sleep late into the day. Add the hellish night she had last night, it wasn’t surprising she woke up midday still shaken up from the break-in. What would Ryan have done if he found her? Her body quivered at the thought and she did her best to put it aside.
After rushing through her morning routine, she made the bed in the room Jax had put her up in and headed out to find him.
“Hello?” she yelled into the hallway of his quiet home. Last night it had been late by the time he’d pulled up to his house, and she’d struggled to keep her eyes open. Without much conversation, she’d followed him inside. He showed her to his extra room, placed her bag by the bed, asked her if she needed anything—but she’d been so tired, she just mumbled incoherently and practically face-planted onto the bed. Too tired to exhaust any more brain cells on the fact that she was about to go to sleep at Jax’s house, she fell right asleep. She woke up covered in a blanket and assumed Jax had tucked her in.
