Aftershock

7

“YOU LOOK FANTASTIC,” my best friend, Lynn, said, checking me out. “I haven’t seen you look this good since Vegas.”

“Considering that was a couple years ago, I’m not feeling too hot about that compliment.” I was teasing her and she knew it, just as I knew I was looking pretty good lately.

Three weeks of living with Jax had led to me dropping about five pounds—the honeymoon diet without the honeymoon. Jax was insatiable and I was eating better because of it. There was a greater incentive to make smart food choices when you knew someone was going to be seeing you naked every day.

She laughed and glanced around Rossi’s. “This place looks great, too.”

Business at both Rossi’s locations was brisk, due in part to media mentions of Jax and me. Because I’d made an effort to avoid hearing anything about Jax while we were apart, I hadn’t realized just how often his name made the news. He’d said the gossip blogs and social media hounds would love me, but he hadn’t mentioned how much they loved him. The public wanted him in office. He was young, gorgeous, a Rutledge, and he had just enough ruthlessness to put him on the right side of edgy.

“The eye candy is delicious as always,” Lynn went on, her attention drifting to Vincent, who was working the bar.

He looked up, caught her eye, and winked.

“Be still my heart,” she said, tucking a stray lock of her red hair behind her ear and blowing him a kiss.

I groaned. “He’s got a big-enough head already.”

“Wouldn’t I like to find out?”

“Eww.” I rolled my eyes. I’d suggested we meet at Rossi’s because I wanted to relax without worrying about someone snapping a picture of me. I’d gotten used to having a bodyguard around all the time, but at Rossi’s I had the added eyes of my family watching out for invasions of my privacy.

She shot me a sympathetic look. “Is it really bad?”

“It’s not terrible. I’m not a celebrity or anything. But there always seems to be one or two photographers lurking around.”

“Stalker rat bastards.”

I shrugged, having accepted them as part of my life. Whenever I got irritated, I reminded myself that Jax had broken both our hearts to protect me from the attention. If I’d learned anything over the past three weeks, it was how happy being with Jax could make me. I couldn’t remember ever being happier. “I just have to be careful, that’s all.”

Twisting on her bar stool, she faced me, her long legs kicking playfully. Dressed in a long floral maxi and jean jacket, with a ton of bracelets and necklaces that she made—and sold—herself, she rocked bohemian elegance. “How is Jackson, anyway? I mean, on an ordinary day. He seems so...intense in interviews.”

“He is. But he can also be playful. And funny. He makes me laugh every day.”

She grinned. “Look at that smile on your face. Almost makes up for his conservative politics.”

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to get into a discussion about Lynn’s liberal views. I left that to my dad, who loved to talk to her about their similar stances on issues. “That’s not to say he can’t be stubborn, irrational, frustrating—”

“A man.”

“Yeah.”

“So...speaking of politics.”

“We weren’t,” I said firmly.

She gave me a toothy grin. “I was. You manage to get the tribe all together in one place yet?”

“Not yet.” My feet tapped on the brass foot rail. “Shooting for a brunch this Saturday. It’s the only time we could get everyone together.”

“God. You’re going to have to give me all the details. Wish I could listen in. That’s going to be a hell of a brunch.”

She wasn’t wrong. In most ways, the Rossis and Rutledges were two different breeds of family.

I took a bite of a crostini, then glanced at my smartphone as it buzzed on the bar. The text message from Jax made me smile. Bring home lasagna.

Lynn glanced at it, too. “Girl, don’t tell me the romance is over already.”

My phone vibrated again. I’ve got the gelato to lick off your body....

She laughed and I laughed with her.

“I need a boyfriend.” Her gaze slid over to where Vincent was shaking up a drink. “Or a booty call.”

I distracted her from my heartbreaker of a brother. “How’s work?”

“Busy.” She played with her long necklaces. “Internet sales are really picking up. If my rent and taxes keep going up, too, I may close the store and just focus on the online business.”

“Really? But you love that store!” I knew how hard Lynn had worked to open it, and how much she’d wanted to prove that her jewelry making and pottery weren’t just worthless hobbies.

She shrugged, but I could see it bothered her. “Wouldn’t be so bad to set my own hours and have more time to come up with new concepts. I could also travel to more conventions and shows, which might be better for me.”

I wanted to keep her thinking positively. “I could use more of your business cards. I wore your amethyst earrings to a party last week and got a ton of compliments on them.”

“Yeah?” She brightened. “That’s great. Thank you.”

I gestured for Vincent to refill our beers, while Lynn pulled some business cards out of her behemoth of a purse.

“How’s work going for you?” she asked when she handed them over.

“Good.”

“You still love it?”

“I do, yes.” I smiled at Vincent as he set two fresh, full glasses in front of us and took the others away.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

I shot my best friend a narrowed glance. She was too perceptive. “Nothing.”

“And your boss is totally okay with you and Jackson?” she prodded.

Sighing, I picked up another crostini. “We don’t talk about it. Which is okay, because she’s my boss and not my friend, but still....”

“You think she’s got a problem with it?”

“I’d say she’s taking it pretty well, considering I’m living with the guy who is doing business with the man who screwed her over. She still trusts me with sensitive information. But there’s...something between us that wasn’t there before.” And that bothered me. A lot.

“What are you going to do?”

“What can I do?” I chewed and swallowed, chasing the toast down with a swig of beer. “I figure she’s waiting to see how it all shakes out. After enough time passes, maybe she’ll feel better about the whole thing.”

Lynn wrinkled her nose. “Have you talked to Jackson?”

“Can’t. He’s a fixer. He’ll want to step in and smooth things over, and that might make things even more uncomfortable.”

“That’s probably the best endorsement you could’ve made for him in my eyes. Every gal wants their best friend to end up with a guy willing to slay their dragons.” She winked. “And lick gelato off them.”

Laughing, I turned my head and glanced around the packed restaurant. Walk-in patrons waited in the foyer by reception, while tables were turned with brisk efficiency thanks to my dad’s insistence on a robust service staff. Families mixed with couples and groups, while a popular television star enjoyed the illusion of anonymity at her favorite table. A camera flash caught my eye, luring my attention to what looked to be a birthday party. Above the din of conversation and the clattering of silverware, an Italian tenor sang about love and loss through the speaker system.

Contentment slid through me, as it always did when I was at Rossi’s.

“Did hell just freeze over?” Lynn asked, bringing my gaze back to her.

“Huh?”

She gestured with a jerk of her chin and I followed. Blinking, I took in the sight of my dad standing beside Ted Rutledge, who had his arm tossed across his shoulders. Ted was dressed in a suit and tie, while my father wore his usual white chef’s coat, black pants, and red Rossi’s apron. Giovanni Rossi remained a striking man, with a full head of salt and pepper hair, and a strong jaw. A photographer snapped their photo.

“Hard to tell from here,” she said. “Is that a campaign button on his shirt?”

I looked at my dad first, then at Ted. Sure enough, Ted had something pinned to his jacket.

“Second time he’s been in here this week,” Vincent said behind me.

When I looked at my brother, I saw the muscle ticcing in his jaw.

“I didn’t know anything about this,” I told him.

“Yeah?” His brown eyes were hard. “Can Jackson say that?”

Lynn took off around eight, but I decided to stay and wait until closing, so I could talk to my dad. I also decided to head back to the loft with Angelo and Vincent.

Because I didn’t want to get into it with Jax when I was tired and cranky, I sent a text letting him know I wasn’t coming home, and then dropped my phone back into my purse. I sipped at a glass of anisette decorated with a lemon twist. After seeing my dad with Ted, a liqueur was calming.

I felt Jax enter the restaurant before I saw him. I’d always been attuned to him, but it had gotten more intense since we started living together.

“Gia.” His hands slid possessively over my hips, his warmth radiating into my back.

I glanced at Vincent, who was scowling at us, and spoke over my shoulder to Jax. “What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up.” His arms encircled my waist. “You didn’t really think I was going to let you spend the night somewhere else?”

I finished my drink. “I didn’t realize I was a prisoner.”

He stiffened at my tone, then whispered, “If we’re going to fight, we’ll do it at home.”

“I don’t want to fight, which is why I wasn’t coming home.”

Jax stepped back. “Let’s go.”

“You’re not listening.”

Spinning me around in my seat, he bent over me. “You haven’t said anything yet worth listening to.”

“Excuse me?” I glared at him, trying to ignore how sexy he looked in a black V-neck sweater and loose-fitting jeans.

He set his hands on the bar on either side me, caging me in. “I’m not leaving you here to drink and stew over whatever’s got you pissed off, and I sure as hell am not sleeping alone.”

“Back off, Jackson,” Vincent ordered, coming up to us.

Jax’s head snapped up. “You’re her brother and you’re watching out for her, I respect that. But she’s my girl and I love her, and you need to respect that. Don’t stick your nose in our business.”

“She doesn’t want to go, she doesn’t have to go.”

“Don’t talk around me like I’m not here!” I said crossly, shooting both of them a warning look. “I don’t appreciate Rutledges coming in here and yanking my family and me around. You said you wanted to protect us from the public eye, not drag us out in front of it!”

I saw when Jax understood what had me riled. Then his face closed off and gave nothing away. “And you’re welcome to hash it out with me—at home.”

“It’s late and I have to work tomorrow. Plus, I want to talk to my dad about this Ted thing, whatever it is. Obviously I don’t know because no one saw fit to tell me.”

“I’ve talked to your dad about this,” he said, sounding so condescendingly reasonable he made my teeth grit. “And I don’t want to hear about it being late when you’re sitting here drinking.”

“News flash, Jackson: I’m old enough to drink a glass of liqueur. And anything else I feel like drinking.”

“Are you mature enough?”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

He reached down and grabbed my purse from the hook beneath the bar. “Getting drunk isn’t helping anybody.”

“I’m not getting drunk!”

“Good.” He gave me a tight smile. “Then you’ve got no reason to stay.”

“Jax—”

“We should both stop talking now.” He leaned down until we were at eye level. “There is no scenario where I walk out of here without you.”

“Gianna,” Vincent said. “You want me to deal with this?”

“I’ve got it.” I slid off the bar stool, suddenly very much in the mood to fight. At least if Jax was dealing with just me, it would be somewhat fair. If my brothers got into it with him, fists would start flying. “I’ll call you later.”

Jax jerked his chin at Vincent in a silent goodbye, then set his hand at my elbow to lead me out. He dismissed the bodyguard who’d been hovering by the entrance, then steered me into the cool night air toward a sleek, sexy car waiting in a no-parking zone.

I checked the vehicle out while Jax opened the passenger door for me. It wasn’t the kind of car a person rented. It was, however, the kind of car that suited Jax perfectly.

That impression was solidified when he got behind the wheel and the engine roared to life, then pulled away from the curb with crisp agility and a powerful purr.

Jax didn’t say anything further on the ride back to the penthouse, allowing the tension between us to thicken and grow hotter. He handled the expensive sports car with commanding ease, completely relaxed amid the chaos of Manhattan streets and aggressive, swerving cabbies.

It wasn’t until we got into the elevator at our apartment building that I broke the silence, unable to bear the weight of his stare. “What did you talk to my dad about?”

“Having Rossi’s featured as a thriving and expanding small business.”

“Featured in what?”

“Various materials.”

I crossed my arms. “Political materials?”

He arched one of his brows. “What else?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because we don’t talk about work—yours or mine.”

The elevator doors opened and he gestured me out ahead of him. I cleared us through the security system and entered the penthouse.

“I think we need to straighten something out.” I tossed my purse on the armchair. “My understanding is that your work is in finance.”

“And you work with Lei Yeung,” he countered, shutting the door behind us. “Doesn’t stop you from getting into your family business, does it?”

I rounded on him. “I would never have a conversation with your dad without telling you!”

“You can’t say that yet.” He pulled his sweater off, revealing the gorgeous chiseled bare torso I couldn’t help eyeing. “And why aren’t you equally pissed at your dad for not saying anything?”

He had a point, which irritated me. I hated how I suddenly felt like I was being irrational. “What are you doing?”

He headed for the hallway. “Getting ready for bed.”

“I’m too pissed to sleep with you!”

“Sweetheart,” he tossed over his shoulder, “I feel the same way.”

I kicked off my heels and went after him, following him into the bedroom. He toed off his shoes and shucked his jeans, magnificently naked in an instant.

He’d been commando beneath those jeans.

My brain scrambled for a minute, then I fought back by getting naked, too. “I don’t want my family being used.”

“I don’t want my girlfriend making assumptions about my motives.” Jax yanked the covers back and slid into bed.

“You’re the one who keeps telling me that your family can’t be trusted!”

He settled against the headboard. “But you didn’t get mad at my family, did you? You got mad at me. And instead of asking me about it, you decided to drink and close ranks.”

“I wouldn’t have to ask you about it if you told me in advance.” I headed into the bathroom. “But whatever. You’re always right, aren’t you, Jax?”

“Seems to me I’m always in the wrong,” he muttered after me.

I turned on the shower and scrubbed my makeup off while the water heated. When I stepped into the stall, I took my time, dragging out the shower as long as I could in the hopes that Jax would fall asleep and stop talking.

Closing my eyes, I stood beneath the spray. Jax was a man who cowed other dominant men with a single glance. He talked around others, refused to cede any ground whatsoever, and he was a painfully sharp strategist. I respected all those things about him. I was attracted to and aroused by his self-command. But I really hated how he could retreat behind that rigid control and put me on the outside; shutting me out and dealing with me like an opponent.

I couldn’t imagine living the rest of my life being treated that way.

“Am I going to have to drag you out of there, too?” Jax said, opening the floating glass door and standing amid the steam that surged eagerly around his bared body.

“Go away,” I told him wearily, shutting off the taps. “I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight.”

His jaw tightened. His chest expanded on a deep, slow breath. “I...” He paused. “I’m sorry.”

Nodding, I pushed him back and stepped around him. “Thank you for that. I’m sorry, too. We both handled this badly.”

I shrugged into the terry-cloth robe hanging on a hook, then wrapped my hair up in a turban to wring it dry. “Goodnight, Jax.”

He followed me through the bedroom, grabbing me by the elbow when I approached the door to the hallway. “Don’t be like this. I said I’m sorry and I meant it.”

Stopping, I looked at him. “I know you did, and I meant it, too. But it doesn’t fix a fundamental problem we’re having with the way we communicate. We don’t talk about family. We don’t talk about work. We hang out together and fuck, which makes us more friends with benefits than anything, doesn’t it?”

He pulled me closer, stepping into me at the same time so that he was pressed up against me. “I love you, Gia. More than I’ve ever loved anything. You know that.”

I sighed. “And I love you enough that I couldn’t get over you, even after I thought you’d dumped me like trash. But that means you can hurt me real bad, Jax. I’m having a hard time living on the periphery of your life. And if being with you hurts worse than being without you, I’ve got to decide what’s the best thing for me to do.”

“You’re the center of my life.” His hands went to my shoulders. “There isn’t a moment that goes by when I’m not thinking about you.”

“That may be true, but you’ve got a unique ability to cut me off, and I’m not sure I can live with that.”

“You’re cutting me off now,” he accused. “You cut me off earlier tonight.”

“So once again, we’re both handling this badly. Maybe that’s a sign. Listen, I’ve got to get some sleep. We can talk about this tomorrow. Okay?”

He cupped my nape. “Sleep with me. I’ll keep my hands to myself if that’s what you want.”

I ached to do what he asked, but I also worried that we’d just be putting a Band-Aid on something that needed a lot more work. “I want to sleep in the guest room.”

I pulled away and left the room, feeling his eyes on my back as he stepped out into the hallway after me. Surprisingly, I fell asleep quickly, despite having damp hair and a painfully tight chest.

Sometime during the night, I felt Jax slip into the bed with me. I rolled to my side, hugged my pillow, and went back to sleep.