Page 47 of Coming In Hot
“He?” West asks, his voice laced with confusion. “More like mildly cute—if you were a sixteen-year-old girl who just got her license. Or a flaming twink who works at Starbucks! No offense to your man, by the way,” West jokes, referring to Tex, Mandy’s unrequited crush, who does not work at Starbucks, but I get his reference nonetheless. As does Mandy, whose expression darkens, as it always does when someone teases him about Tex.
“Watch your fuckin’ mouth,” Mandy warns.
“But seriously,” West continues, raising his voice, “my nutter buddy can’t drive a Mini! I can’t be seen in this. Hell, I can’t even fit in this! How the hell can you?”
“It’s good on gas, low monthly payments, and he’s… zippy.”
“Zippy? That’s your justification? A scooter is fucking zippy, dude, but I’m not riding around on one, am I?”
They continue to bicker back and forth as the guys file out of the gate, snapping pictures of Mandy’s new ride, completely oblivious to the strange energy crackling between Jax and me.
I roll my eyes as Riggs argues with West about the best angle for the shot. Typical.
But Jax? He’s still hogging the foot of my lounger like it’s his personal throne, even though there’s an entire row of empty chairs beside me. I can feel the heat of his gaze roaming my face before settling on my lips.
The proximity is unsettling in a way that has my mind drifting off into dangerous territory. Then, he leans over my chest—too close, his breath warm against my skin, and I instinctively hold my breath. His voice drops to a whisper, sending a shiver straight down my spine despite the heat of the sun.
“Would be a shame if you came home from your next deployment to find a pink Mini parked in your driveway where your truck used to be.”
A smirk curls at the corner of his lips, and I feel his gaze linger a second too long before he straightens up, eyes sparkling with mischief. The bastard knows exactly how to fuck with me. He knows I would go feral if anyone so much as breathed on my truck wrong, much less confiscated it.
I’m reminded of just how easily Jax can fuck my life up with the stroke of a key. An IRS audit, identity theft, shutting off my utilities, or God only knows what else his evil little master mind concocts for his sick pleasure.
I glance up at him, my pulse hammering in my ears. “You’re really trying to get a rise out of me today, huh?”
He just shrugs, completely unapologetic. “Maybe. Maybe not. It’s just a thought, but I’m guessing that truck of yours means a lot to you. I’d never do that... unless I knew you’d miss it,” he adds with a smirk.
HeknowsI’d miss it. I don’t want to admit it—especially not to him—but he’s right. I’d miss that damn truck more than I care to admit.
But the worst part is... I might just miss him more. Because I surely would, right after I buried him six feet under the ground.
“Don’t start,” I warn, narrowing my eyes. “I’m not in the mood for your shit today.”
Jax winks at me as he slides off my lounger, peeling his wet shorts away from his body. “Relax. I wasn’t planning on it.” His voice is too smooth for comfort. “But your bike…”
And just like that, the game continues.
CHAPTER17
PHARO
“Yes,Mami. I’ll bring him. See you soon.”
I lay the phone down and frown. How in the hell am I going to get Jax to agree to come with me to visit my mother again?
I run my fingers through my hair, pacing the living room. I can already imagine the excuses.
“I’m busy.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“Isn’t it a family thing?”
Yeah, I know him too well.
But this isn’t just about me. It’s about my mom, and I’m pretty sure if Jax knows that, he might at least consider it. He always acts like he doesn’t care, but I can see through that. And I know he’s got a soft spot for her, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.
Fuck it, best to get this over with. I grab my keys and the gift bag sitting on the console table by the door and head out to my truck. The drive to Jax’s place feels like it takes forever. I can’t avoid this conversation, no matter how much I want to. My mom’s waiting on me, and I need Jax to back me up.
