3. Chapter Three
Jax
Present Day
W hy does my goddamned heart burn like it’s on fire? Grunting, I absentmindedly rub at my chest while discreetly sneaking another glance towards the staircase. Still no sign of her. With a disgruntled sigh, I flip the frying eggs over in the skillet and reach into a nearby drawer, pulling out a package of antacids and popping one into my mouth.
I knew living under the same roof as her wouldn’t be easy, but I wasn’t expecting it to give me heartburn. Even after all these years, seeing her with my brother still makes my skin itch, but knowing she is down the hall from me in his bed? It feels like the definition of cruel and unusual punishment.
“Where the hell is she?” I mutter. Normally, I would be heading toward the shop right now. It doesn’t open for another hour, but I like to get there early. Even though I have a private office, the walls are thin and do nothing to disguise the noises of the men working in the garage all day. Early morning is the best time of day to work on payroll and budgeting, yet I’m still here.
Just waiting to catch a glimpse of her.
Like I have been for years now.
My heart trips over itself when I hear the creaking of loosened floorboards near the top of the staircase. But I give it a count of five before allowing myself to send a casual glance in that direction. I use that time to slip on my usual mask of cool indifference and force my tone into one of boredom.
“Mornin’.”
“Good morning,” she replies, her voice muffled through a wide yawn. I’m hit with a rush of warmth, and I clamp my lips down so I don’t grin like a fool.
I study her profile out of the corner of my eye as she ambles into the kitchen. My cock twitches with interest like it does every time she walks into a room. It’s not just that she’s pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way. It’s her simple, laid-back style that’s classically beautiful. The way her thick, shoulder-length chestnut-colored hair lies against the delicate slope of her neck. It’s the strange contradiction of her tendency to blush like a sweet, shy thing one minute before she’s shooting me a challenging glare with fire in her eyes the next.
Part of me was hoping she would come down in her sleepwear, while another part of me didn’t want to face that temptation. She’s wearing what I assume is her work outfit, reminding me that today is her first day at her new job. She has on black dress pants that hug every inch of her hips with a black shirt tucked into the waistband. My eyes travel down her legs, drinking in every mouth-watering inch until I reach her ankles.
And frown.
“You’re wearing high heels.”
Her lips tip down as she reaches for the coffee pot. I watch as she scoops the coffee grounds into the basket and fills the reservoir with water.
“Yup.”
Although our conversations are usually stilted and awkward, I feel a rush of annoyance at the vague response. It’s my own fault she doesn’t want to talk to me—after all, I’ve gone out of my way to interact as little as possible with her. Still, it rankles.
It’s just…hard to talk to the woman who’s supposed to be mine when she’s not.
But sometimes I’m afraid if I let myself converse with her, I’ll confess to everything. The words will just spew right out. But the day she became my brother’s girl, all of that ceased to matter. If you look up the definition of off limits , you’ll see Maddison Raddix’s name right next to it. Which means, unfortunately, that I have to keep my feelings—and dick—away from this woman.
“Why?”
“It’s part of the dress code.” She gives me a sideways glance, her eyebrows furrowing as she reaches for an empty mug.
“That’s a stupid dress code,” I mutter. She chuckles dryly, the steam of the coffee wafting around her face as she pours the black liquid into a dark, orange-speckled mug. As I fill up two plates with food, I try to study the way she makes her coffee—a heaping teaspoon of sugar and a dash of vanilla creamer.
“That’s what Irene makes all the girls wear,” she says. The way her lips purse together tells me she isn’t all that enthused to be wearing high heels for eight hours a day. And honestly, it makes something uncomfortable settle in my chest. I peer down at her feet again, taking note of how slender her ankles are. They look so delicate .
What if she trips in those things?
“Irene Johnson is your new boss?” I ask, setting the two plates of food onto the kitchen table. Maddie nods her head before sitting, and I take the empty chair across from her. Her eyebrows lift as she stares at the pile of fried eggs, the bacon that’s just a little crispy, and the hashbrowns that are still steaming.
“She’s a real cunt,” I mutter. I don’t like the idea of her boss being the biggest nut-job in town. I jerk my chin towards the plate. “Eat.”
“Oh, thank you but, uh, I usually skip breakfast.” She bites her lip, and I swear my dick perks up. I wonder what it would feel like to take my thumb and tug that plump flesh away from her teeth.
Frowning, I push the plate a little closer towards her. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
I give her a pointed look before picking up my fork and shoveling a big mouthful past my lips. She stares at me, giving me an assessing look that makes the back of my neck warm. Finally, she looks down at her plate and cautiously picks up her fork. As soon as she takes her first bite, her eyes light up and I smirk.
“I do know how to cook basic foods.”
She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something but the sound of the front door creaking open interrupts the moment, and our heads swing towards it. Luke stumbles through the doorway, looking haggard and worn out. His white shirt is wrinkled and there’s a red food stain on his chest. His hair is mussed and he’s rubbing at his eyes like he just woke up. He trudges past us, giving us a lazy wave and heading towards the staircase in silence.
My eyes dart over to Maddie, whose expression remains neutral. No surprise or irritation to be found. It was their first night here, and he stayed out all night?
“Sit down and eat breakfast with us,” I call to him.
Luke pauses, his eyes scanning over the food in front us. His nose scrunches up, his face looking a little pale. “Maybe just a cup of coffee,” he mumbles, walking back towards the kitchen. His mouth stretches into a big yawn, his fingers scratching at his belly. As he pours his coffee and settles into the chair across from me, I wait for him to acknowledge Maddie’s presence. Or for her to tell him good morning, ask where the hell he was all night…anything.
Silence.
It feels unsettling, but neither one of them seem perturbed.
“You look like a steaming pile of dog shit,” I finally mutter.
Luke releases a mirthless laugh, shaking his head while Maddie narrows her eyes in disapproval. “Don’t hold back on account of my feelings or nothin’,” he says, tipping his coffee mug towards me in a mock salute.
I love the kid like he’s my own son. After all, I was his sole guardian from the time he turned eleven until he was old enough to move out. But since he’s dropped out of college, he’s been acting like a little shit. I keep waiting for him to grow up, waiting for the day we can finally have more of the brotherly relationship we missed out on with me having to fill our parents’ shoes after their untimely deaths. I was so excited the day he went off for college. It was something I never got to experience, and I thought it would be good for him. Until six months ago, when he called me up and said he was dropping out. The disappointment made my stomach sour.
And every day, the distance between us only grows.
Sometimes I get the strange feeling he isn’t particularly happy with his life, but I have no clue how to help him.
The one thing I do know is that Maddie appears to be the only good influence in his life. She seems like she has a good head on her shoulders, and part of me really appreciates her role in Luke’s life, but part of me also knows that she sure deserves better than anything he’s ever given her.
And thinking that way makes me feel guilty as hell, because he’s my baby brother and I want him to be happy. I think Maddie makes him happy.
“You gonna do some job hunting today?” I ask him, ignoring his sarcasm.
“Sure, I’ll get right on that, Dad ,” he bites out.
I give him a scathing look.
“Just let him be, Jax,” Maddie says, her voice tinged with exasperation. She scoots her chair back before taking her empty plate to the sink. “He doesn’t feel good.”
Luke points a finger at her, nodding in silent agreement. A scoff slips from my throat as I roll my eyes. Standing up, I scrape my plate clean and skirt around Maddie as I place it in the sink.
“I’ll be down at the shop until five today,” I tell them both. Within a few minutes, my work shoes are on and I’m striding out the front door with my key in hand. Perks of being a small business owner: when I bought this land with my dad’s life insurance money, I made sure to build the shop within walking distance of the house. It allowed me to keep a close eye on Luke while still earning a paycheck. As the building comes into view, I think about my two new housemates.
I wonder how Maddie feels about being here. If it bothers her, she’s given no indication. More than anything, I hate that she has to suffer for Luke’s foolhardy mistakes. He’s the one who got fired from his job. And yet, she agreed to give up her internship, move into her boyfriend’s brother’s house, and work a job that’s beneath her.
It makes me wonder if there is anything I can do to make her life a little easier.
When I found out she would be moving in with him too, I spruced up the house a little bit. I added some paintings to the walls, candles, and even a throw blanket. The kind of cozy, homey shit that women love. I want her to be comfortable in my home.
Goddamnit, Jax, it’s not your place to take care of her.
I’m distracted with thoughts of Maddie as I unlock the door to the shop, absentmindedly flipping on the lights and heading towards my office. I sit down in front of my computer, leaning back in my chair while I wait for the ancient machine to power on. My gaze slides past the pair of faded, lumpy-cushioned chairs in front of my desk towards the black sofa on the far wall. I’m already wondering if I can squeeze in a quick, lunch-time nap.
“Boss! I got a joke for you!” I jolt when the office door is suddenly thrown open, the wood banging so hard against the wall it bounces back off and nearly smacks Andrew right in the face. I groan, watching the blonde, shaggy-haired, lanky man stroll in with Paige. Andrew is my newest hire. He’s loud, immature, and boisterous. Paige, on the other hand, has been working at my shop since the day I opened my doors. She’s smart, savvy, and loyal—which is why she’s my assistant manager. She’s the only one I trust to keep this place running when I’m not around. Many people take one look at her appearance and assume she’s just some rocker chick with her shoulder-length black hair streaked with purple, her nose ring, and the tattoo sleeves on both arms. That’s their mistake.
“How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?” Andrew asks, plopping down in a chair without further invitation. Paige leans against the doorway with her signature smirk.
I sigh. “I don’t know.”
“Ten tickles,” Andrew replies. He winks, shooting me finger guns before guffawing with laughter while I blink at him. Paige merely quirks an eyebrow. “Get it? Ten tickles? Like tentacles?” he asks.
My lips twitch. “I get it.”
“I told you he wouldn’t laugh,” Paige mutters. “Now pay up.”
Andrew groans before rolling his eyes and lifting his hips to dig into his pants pocket. He pulls out a ten-dollar bill and holds it up between two fingers. Paige snickers as she steps forward and snatches it from his hand. Leaning back in my chair, I rest my chin on my fist.
Andrew points a finger at me. “I’ll get you one of these days.”
“Mmmhm.”
He’s been on a mission for months now, cracking all kinds of corny jokes in a poor attempt to get me to laugh. Although he hasn’t succeeded yet, I still get plenty of entertainment just watching him lose money to everyone else.
“So, how are the new house guests?” he asks lazily, propping his dirty boots up on my desk. I scowl and he immediately removes them.
“Fine,” I answer noncommittedly.
“Are you going to give Luke a job?” Paige asks.
I frown. “I tried to but he doesn’t want to work for me.”
“Why not?” she asks.
I throw my hands up. “Your guess is as good as mine. He barely talks to me anymore. We used to be thick as thieves and the next thing I know, he’s dropping out of school and going to parties instead.”
“What does Maddison have to say about it?” she asks.
I shrug. “He was gone all night and then he came home looking hungover. She didn’t act surprised or bothered.”
Paige tilts her head, silent for a moment as she thinks about what I just said. “Trouble in paradise?” she wonders aloud.
Something painful twists in my gut.
I shake my head. “I don’t know and I’m staying out of their business.” Paige just gives me a knowing look.
“Do either of you have a real reason to be in here?” I growl.
Andrew’s eyes widen and he snaps a finger. “Right! I almost forgot. Mary called and said her car is acting funny. Those are her words, not mine. And she wants to know if you can come look at it.” His eyebrows furrow. “I told her we don’t usually do house calls.”
“Tell her I’ll be there after lunch.”
Paige gives me a disapproving look. “You know that old bat is just making stuff up to lure you over there, right? Once you get there and see there’s absolutely nothing wrong with her car, she’ll ply you with lemonade and brownies. Then she’ll chat for the next hour and, in a few weeks, she’ll call back and do it all over again.”
This time I do laugh, quietly.
“I know. I’m counting on it.”
“Jax! I’m so glad you’re here. My car has been squealing something awful. It sounds just like that whore I caught screwing my second husband.”
My shoulders shake with silent laughter. Mary hands her car keys to me and I nod towards the silver clunker.
“I’ll take it for a test drive down the road so I can hear it for myself.”
Mary leans forward, her wrinkled fingers pinching my cheeks as she grins up at me. I get a whiff of vanilla and peppermint before she steps away, her white hair standing out under the sunlight. She looks so frail these days, and yet she’s always grinning. The bottom of her ankle-length, floral skirt blows in the cool breeze, and she takes a step back and wraps a brown cardigan tighter against the front of her body.
“Thank you, dear. I appreciate that. You know I don’t get out much these days with my arthritis and all.”
I do the obligatory drive down the road, and as usual, her car is running perfectly fine. Stopping at the nearest gas station, I fill her tank up. I clean off her front windows, check her oil, and add some air to the tires before heading back to her house. Honestly, I don’t mind. It’s the least I can do after all the years of free babysitting she did for me when Luke was younger and I was swamped at work.
But we both know it’s a farce, even if we pretend otherwise. After divorcing her first two husbands and losing her third to heart failure, I suspect she’s been lonely.
Pulling back into her driveway, I lock the car up and knock on her door again. She ushers me through her home to the patio. It’s really nothing more than a small concrete slab with a white metal table, but there’s already a tray of brownies and a pitcher of lemonade waiting for us.
“So, tell me,” she begins, “what’s it like living with Maddison?” I immediately tense. Why does everybody keep fishing for information?
“It’s…fine,” I murmur.
She gives me a pointed look. “Boy,” she chides. “I’m not getting any younger. Just spill the beans already. Don’t act like you don’t want to get it off your chest.”
Shaking my head, I release a sound that’s a mixture between a laugh and a scoff.
I’m not sure if it was a good idea or a bad idea that I told Mary everything.
Everything.
“She’s still with Luke,” I say softly. “Nothing has changed, not that it would make a difference.” I shrug, the gesture feeling more casual than that statement feels.
Her eyes soften as she pours me a glass of lemonade. “Is it hard to live under the same roof with her?”
Nodding solemnly, I stare off into the distance as my fingers tap on the table beneath me. “I always thought I would have her in my space one day, but not like this. It feels like torture every time he touches her.”
“It’s an honorable thing,” Mary says quietly. “Walking away at the bar, giving her time to grow up a little and live her life before you pursued her.”
“She was so young,” I whisper, my voice raspy. “I was damn near thirty. And here she was, nineteen and just starting college. I didn’t want to hold her back or have her worry about what people might say about our age difference.” I avoid her gaze as I give her a truth I haven’t spoken out loud to anyone else yet. “It’s probably selfish, but I thought if I could just wait until she turned twenty, then maybe people wouldn’t talk so much. I didn’t want her to go through that. Not for me.”
Releasing a heavy breath, I take a large gulp of lemonade. The ice-cold liquid feels good on my parched tongue as I savor the sweet tartness. Mary remains silent, waiting patiently as she cuts a brownie for each of us. My chuckle is devoid of any real humor. “I watched her social media for a while,” I muse aloud. “After a few months of that, I decided it was sort of creepy and stalkerish, so I quit. Maybe her going out with my brother wouldn’t have been such a shock if I hadn’t made myself stop.”
“Maybe.” Mary shrugs. “Maybe it’s time to tell her how you feel. Living together is going to make things…complicated.”
I give Mary an incredulous look. “Why the hell would I ever do that? It’s not like anything can ever come of it now; I can’t take her from my own damn brother,” I admonish. Hell, even if they were to break up, she’s always going to be the one woman I can never have. The thought makes my stomach twist.
She squeezes my hand. “No, but watching them under your roof while they’re together isn’t really fair to you.”
“Two months,” I mutter, gritting my teeth. Mary gives me a confused look. “She was two months shy of her twentieth birthday when Luke brought her home,” I explain. Even now, I can still remember the shock that slammed into my gut when he introduced us. I recall the way her beautiful eyes flared wide, the disbelief registering on her face. I’ve always wondered what went through her mind in those few seconds, and if she was remembering the way she ground that enticing pussy against my erection.
“Jax, this is my girl, Maddison Raddix.”
My heart sunk into my stomach at those words, and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered it.
“I was gonna show up at the coffee shop where she worked and ask her out. I knew she might not even remember me, or be interested, or that she might not be single anymore, but my fucking brother?” I give a self-deprecating laugh. “I never saw that one coming, and now I wish every day I hadn’t walked away from her at that bar. No matter how selfish it makes me.”
“And he still doesn’t know that you two already knew each other?” she asks.
My stomach twists again, and I clench my fist around my half-empty glass. For some reason, it really fucking irks me that Maddison has never even acknowledged that night happened. Did it mean so little to her?
“I doubt it. I’m sure he would have confronted me.”
If I had taken her home that night, would my brother be the one hopelessly pining after a girl he can never have? Leaning back in my chair, I let my shoulders slump. My heart feels heavy at the knowledge that even knowing that possibility, I still wish I made her mine first. If there’s one thing I could do differently in my life, I would have never walked away from that woman. No matter the consequences. But now, Maddison Raddix will forevermore be the woman I’m secretly obsessed with.
“Fate is a fickle bitch,” Mary murmurs dryly.
I have to agree.