Chapter 18
Anger rolls through me in a hot wave. I knew this bastard would show his face eventually. Straightening my shoulders, I cross the taproom and yank open the door.
”What do you want?” My tone is as cold as the glare I level at him.
Jermaine doesn”t so much as flinch. Of course not—the man”s got a poker face that could give statues a run for their money.
Those rich brown eyes bore into mine, intense and unreadable. ”We need to talk, Londyn.”
I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. The urge to slam the door in his face is strong, but something holds me back.
Curiosity, maybe. Or just good old-fashioned masochism.
”Really? You had a month to talk and now you show up.” I let my gaze rake over him in clear disdain, but I be damned if the man isn”t still fine.
But that”s not the point Londyn. What is wrong with me?
Just stay the fuck away from Jermaine.
He stares at me as if he can read my mind and that only pisses me off.
”I”m not interested in anything you have to say.”
Jermaine exhales a slow breath through his nose. His stoic mask is unreadable as he considers his next move.
”This is about your brewery.” He holds up a crisp manila envelope, the kind you”d expect important documents to be sealed in. ”And the competition.”
My pulse kicks up a notch at the implication. I eye the envelope warily, hating the tiny flicker of hope that sparks in my chest. ”What are you talking about?”
Instead of answering, Jermaine extends the envelope toward me. ”Just take it, Londyn.”
I hesitate, fingers twitching at my sides. Part of me longs to snatch it from his grasp.
I wish I had the balls to grab it and rip it and tell him to kiss my ass.
But if that”s my prize money….
I don”t know how long he”s let me stand here, staring at the envelope in his hand. But I don”t move, and neither does he.
Straightening my spine, I level him with my most withering glare. ”No thanks. I”m not interested in being another one of your pawns.”
Those dark eyes glint, a muscle ticking in Jermaine”s taut jaw. ”Don”t be like that, baby. Just hear me out.”
The endearment sends a tremor racing through me, hot and visceral.
I squeeze my eyes shut. My mind warring with my heart.
Then I remember the sting of his betrayal, the depth of hurt he”s already inflicted through his callous scheming. I can”t let myself forget.
That Jermaine came back. Not for me. But for revenge.
Don”t be a fool thrice.
When I open them again, Jermaine is still there, still holding that damned envelope like a ticking time bomb.
”You got two minutes,” I grit out, bracing myself for whatever fresh hell is about to rain down. ”Then I want you gone.”
Jermaine nods once, seemingly satisfied with my ultimatum. He gestures to the envelope again. ”Open it.”
I snatch it from his grasp, tearing into the seal with more force than necessary. My breath catches as the contents spill into my palm.
It”s a check—no, the check, made out to Crown Jewel Brew in the amount of...
My knees go weak as the number registers.
”Two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars?” The words are barely more than a stunned whisper as my brain struggles to process this new reality.
Jermaine”s lips curve into a ghost of a smile, but there”s no warmth in the expression. ”Like I said, it”s about the competition. Consider this...a personal investment from me to you.”
I open my mouth, ready to unleash a blistering retort about not wanting his damn charity. But the words shrivel on my tongue as the gravity of the situation settles over me.
This check, this windfall...it”s everything I”ve been striving for. A chance to truly take Crown Jewel to new heights and to realize my most ambitious dreams for growth and success.
But it”s coming from Jermaine, tainted by whatever ulterior motive is driving his actions.
”Was this your plan all along?”
A flicker of surprise crosses his features. ”No. Hurting you was never my intention.”
”Why?” The single syllable rasps past my lips, laced with a complicated swirl of gratitude and mistrust. ”What”s your angle here, Jermaine?”
For a long beat, he simply regards me steadily, those fathomless eyes giving nothing away.
Then, finally... ”No angle, Londyn,” Jermaine says, his voice firm and unwavering. ”I just want to see the Crown Jewel that lives in your head become a reality.”
His words hit me like a ton of bricks, shattering my defenses. Could it be that simple? That he believes in my vision as much as I do?
I study his face, searching for any sign of deception, but all I see is sincerity. It”s disorienting.
My jaw clenches at his audacity to stand here, spouting pretty words after everything he”s put me through. I open my mouth, ready to let loose the storm of anger and accusations simmering inside me.
But Jermaine holds up a hand, effectively silencing me.
”Don”t say anything,” he murmurs, voice gone low and rough in a way that has my pulse kicking up again. ”Just...take the money. Do what you need to do for your brewery.”
I blink, caught off-guard by the uncharacteristic softness in his voice.
He steps closer and cradles my cheek with achingly familiar tenderness. ”You”re going to be amazing out there, Londyn. I have no doubt about that.”
The sincerity in his tone is like a physical caress, stealing my breath and weakening my knees. For a dizzying moment, I”m untethered, caught up in the memory of how things used to be between us.
The moment Jermaine”s lips crash against mine, everything else fades away. The brewery, the prize money, even the brewing competition that”s caused so much upheaval—it all dissolves into irrelevance.
My fingers splay across the hard planes of his chest as his mouth moves with intense purpose, coaxing mine open with a heated sweep of his tongue. A shudder races through me at the scorching familiarity of his taste, igniting a reckless hunger I thought I”d long since buried.
This kiss...it”s a searing brand, a brutal reminder of everything we once had. Of the passion that blazed so bright until it was cruelly snuffed out, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake.
I should push him away. Put an end to this madness before it consumes us both.
But then Jermaine angles his head, his lips slanting over mine with delicious friction, and all rational thought escapes me. My nails dig into the firm muscles of his back as I pull him closer, craving the solidity of his body against mine.
A low rumble vibrates from deep in his chest—part growl, part groan. The sound alone has arousal pulsing between my thighs in heated waves.
God, how I”ve missed this...missed him.
My nipples are taut peaks straining against the thin fabric of my tank top. I”m acutely aware of the way Jermaine”s fingertips brush over the sensitive tips as he yanks the material upward, exposing my bare skin to the warm air.
He breaks the kiss, those rich brown eyes dark with naked want. He regards me with a heavy-lidded stare, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.
I can”t tear my gaze from the tantalizing play of muscle rippling beneath his shirt with each subtle movement.
Then he”s on me again, trailing a blazing path of open-mouthed kisses along my jaw, down the slender column of my throat. I keen softly, arching into him as my head lolls back to grant him better access.
”Londyn...” The rasp of my name on his tongue is guttural, laced with pure, unfiltered need.
His fingers skim the waistband of my jean shorts, grazing my overheated skin and sending tingles of pleasure radiating outward.
I suck in a sharp breath, anticipating his next move, craving it with a desperation that borders on mania.
But Jermaine doesn”t push any further.
His hand cups my jaw instead, tilting my face so I”m forced to meet his piercing stare.
”Dreamed about having you underneath me again, baby. About the sweet sounds you make when I”m buried so deep inside you...”
The blunt words and mental images they evoke elicit a full-body shudder, my inner muscles clenching. Even when I know I shouldn”t.
Jermaine”s thumb traces the curve of my lower lip, and I can”t resist flicking my tongue out to taste his salt-tinged skin. His jaw tenses, those smoldering eyes flaring darker.
”I can still taste you,” he rumbles, leaning in until his mouth hovers a hairsbreadth from mine.
My core clenches hard, a rush of dizzying lust settles over us.
Girl, stop before he has you butt naked with your heart shattered beneath his expensive-ass shoes.
But in the next breath, Jermaine is pulling away, untangling himself from our heated embrace with maddening slowness. I take a stumbling step back, putting much-needed distance between us before I combust.
My skin prickles with the loss of his body heat, already mourning the absence of his touch.
Jermaine”s gaze sears into mine, scorching down to the depths of my soul. ”We”re not done, Londyn. Not by a long shot.”
The promise in his tone has anticipation simmering low in my abdomen. My tongue darts out to moisten my lips as I brace for what”s to come next.
But even as the doubts swirl, a deeper truth settles over me—no matter what twisted thoughts are driving Jermaine”s actions, some part of me still craves him.
His validation that I”m more than just the ambitious dreamer he once loved, that I”m a true artist worthy of respect. It matters as much as the check I”m clutching.
Maybe that”s what this exorbitant ”investment” really represents—his way of acknowledging that the passion we once shared is still alive, still smoldering between us no matter how deeply I try to bury it.
The realization is a lead weight in the pit of my stomach.
”Jermaine, I...”
The words stick in my throat as his piercing gaze holds me transfixed. My fingers tighten around the check, the stiff paper crinkling beneath my grip.
”This doesn”t change anything between us,” I force out at last, the words a low rasp against the thundering of my pulse.
Jermaine”s temple ticks with tension. But his expression remains carefully neutral. ”I know.”
He levels me with one last weighted look, those eyes glittering with undisguised male satisfaction at the state he”s left me in—disheveled, lips swollen, every nerve ending thrumming with delirious want.
Then, without a word, he turns on his heel and strides from the taproom, leaving me a breathless, aching mess in his wake.
For long moments, I can only sit there in a daze, chest heaving, pulse jackhammering in my ears. The searing imprint of Jermaine”s kiss seems etched into every inch of my skin, branding me, marking me as his once again.
Disjointed thoughts ricochet in my mind. What the hell just happened? Where did that come from?
And why, why didn”t I stop him?
The gnawing ache between my thighs is a visceral reminder: no matter how much I try to deny it, some twisted part of me still craves Jermaine Knights with every fiber of my being.
It”s a realization that should fill me with cold, harsh clarity. That should have me vowing to sever whatever tattered ties still bind us together before they strangle me completely.
But instead, it makes it harder to acknowledge the truth.
I still want him.
That man shattered you not once but twice,the rational voice in my head reminds me. You really want to go through that again?
I stand rooted in place long after the echo of his footsteps fades, my chest heaving with the exertion of that brief, emotionally charged encounter.
The check is still clutched in my white-knuckled grip.
I slowly uncurl my fingers, letting my eyes drink in that life-altering figure again.
$250,000.
The power to change everything, to elevate Crown Jewel and achieve my wildest dreams...all from the one man I can”t seem to fully exorcise from my heart and mind.
I slam the door and a single tear tracks down my cheek.
”I guess this is the price for a broken heart.”