Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Books-N-Brews smelled like caramel-laced espresso and aged wood, the familiar scent cutting through the fog in Tazzy’s head.
Yesterday was a nightmare. First, there was the whole cigarette thing. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, her tires had been slashed.
Mostly, it was the way she’d lost her ever-lovin’ mind.
She hadn’t let it show, but her traitorous heart was glad Jaxon had been there both times.
Of course, she would’ve been glad if anyone had helped her.
She’d have been just as moved by anyone’s protection and care.
Anyone could have made her feel safe. Anyone could have taken care of everything the way he did.
It had nothing to do with Jaxon in particular.
Right, next she’d be selling herself a piece of the Golden Gate Bridge. It was all about Jaxon, and that just ticked her off.
She moved between tables all day, taking her frustration out on anyone and anything she could. It was a minor miracle that the mugs she was stacking now didn’t crack when she slammed them on her tray.
The regulars got a tight-lipped smile—nothing warm, nothing real—just enough to keep them from asking questions. She’d picked the t-shirt Lovie made for her today with care. It read “Very Feral. Very Unhinged. Very Batshit.” As far as Tazzy was concerned, everyone had been warned.
Her brain and her heart were at war with each other. Evidently, she needed to get her brain some Wheaties because her heart was kicking the crap out of it.
So, okay, she couldn’t help the tire thing.
But the cigarette incident still left her burning with embarrassment.
She knew better. Her life was crazy enough right now without adding smoking.
She hated that she’d tried to light one.
Guilt and shame were eating her alive, and she had no one to help her get rid of them.
And speaking of Jaxon, his growl yesterday when he’d caught her had prowled down her spine and settled between her thighs. If she didn’t do something about that soon, her lady bits were going to join a knitting club to pass the time.
Usually, she’d let her BOB take care of that for her, but taking a vibrator out with Jaxon in the house was just weird. Not to mention how mortified she’d be if he heard her.
The same thing had happened when his fingers had closed around her wrist like tempered steel. There was no denying the way her body had betrayed her, responding with so much need, even as she told herself she hated it.
She’d walked away. Just left him standing there while her every nerve still hummed from the tone of his voice promising things she refused to crave. At least, she’d given him the cold shoulder after that. But it hadn’t been easy.
The bell over the door jangled, and Tazzy’s head snapped up.
As if summoned by her thoughts, Jaxon filled the doorway, still wearing his leather jacket.
But now he wore a black tee stretched tight across his chest. His dark blond hair fell forward to cover his brows, but that just drew her attention to his sexy blue eyes
Those same steel-blue eyes were now locked on her. He wore no smile, because of course he didn’t. The old Jaxon had a gorgeous smile. The new Jaxon never smiled. He still had that chiseled jaw, though it was usually clenched so hard his muscles ticked.
Her heart kicked up a notch when he stepped inside, which he did, letting the door swing shut behind him with a thud that made the nearest customer flinch.
He didn’t look around. Didn’t acknowledge anyone else.
His gaze remained fixed on her, dark and stubborn.
It was the same look he’d given her in the alley when he’d promised to spank the rebellion out of her.
A meek, fraidy-cat Little girl who’d never had her heart broken would have looked away.
Not her, though. Nope. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. God, he was so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. How could she remember he was off limits when he looked like that?
He had her so out of sorts that she bumped into a man trying to leave her a tip. The tray of empty coffee cups in her hands slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. Face bright red, she bent to pick the tray up, offering him a mumbled, “Sorry, sir.”
Gah! Look what he’d made her do, just by standing there. She was in so much trouble.
Now, everyone in the shop was staring at her, especially Jaxon. Some men in the booth near the front window started laughing, but their amusement disappeared after one terrifying look from Jaxon.
Straightening to every micron of her five foot five height, she lifted the tray of cups she’d dropped. Most people in the shop had returned to their own business, but not Jaxon.
He still watched her every movement. The predatory look in his eye had her nerves jumping and her sex quivering. But whatever that look was, she didn’t want to talk about it here.
She put the dirty cups in the kitchen and took her place next to Georgia behind the counter, tray in hand.
Jaxon’s boots thudded across the floor as he headed to the counter, that hard look of determination setting her nerves on edge.
His gaze held the same look he’d given her in the alley when he’d promised to spank the rebellion out of her.
Georgia sidled and whispered in her ear. “I can take his order if you want.”
Tazzy shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. Mr. Ruick is just another customer.”
Georgia’s brows shot up. “If you say so.”
Tazzy looked him straight in the eye. “We’re not doing this here.”
“We’re doing it now, Sprite. You walked away yesterday. You don’t get to do it again. After some of the things you did, we have things to discuss. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that someone slashing your tires made me forget about what happened with the cigarettes.”
Ignoring his words, Tazzy slapped a napkin and spoon in front of him. “What can I get you, Mr. Ruick?”
Jaxon’s eyes narrowed. “Was going to get Jamaica Roast. Black. Now I’m thinkin’ red tea. That way I’ll have something to compare your ass to if you call me Mr. Ruick one more time.”
Heat flared low in her belly, but she ignored it. “I can get you red tea, Mr. Ruick. But it may take a minute. I don’t have any brewed.”
Jaxon stood and leaned over the counter.
Slow, deliberate movements brought him so close she could smell the leather of his jacket.
His voice came out as a low, rough rumble edged with fury from the warehouse.
“Oh, we’re doing it now, Sprite. You’re shaking.
You’re pissed. And I bet if I checked, I’d find you’re still wet from what I said I’d do to you. Don’t pretend you’re not.”
Her breath caught. She wanted to slap him. She wanted to shove him out the door. She wanted to drag him into the back room and let him prove every word.
Instead, she gripped the tray like a shield, dark eyes blazing. No way was she backing down that easy. The Little Sprite he’d left behind was dead.
Georgia gasped and looked between them. “Alrighty then. I’ll just be over there, fanning my face.” She practically ran to the far end of the counter.
“Get out, Jaxon. You’re embarrassing me.
I appreciate your help with the car yesterday, but if you don’t leave, I’ll…
I’ll…” She looked around the room, hoping a customer would stand up and suggest a bad enough threat.
When that didn’t happen, she blurted out, “Before I scream for the cops and let them haul you away again.”
His laugh was dark and dangerous. He leaned so close his lips brushed her ear.
Voice dropping to a growl, he whispered, “You can threaten to scream if you like, little girl. We both know you won’t do it.
Deep down, under all that black eyeliner and attitude, you still want your Daddy to take control.
And I’m about done waiting for permission.
” He straightened, his eyes locking on hers.
“You have five minutes to head for the alley before I throw you over my shoulder and carry you out myself. We are going to settle this once and for all.” He pointed at his watch. “Clock’s ticking, baby.”
Then he stalked to the cold fireplace to lean his massive frame against the mantle, crossed his arms, and waited. Every inch of him radiated fury.
Tazzy stood frozen, her chest heaving. In the alley. Again. Why did everything have to happen in the alley? Placing the tray on the counter, she took a deep breath. She was trembling, but not from fear.
No, her body screamed for the man she swore she’d never let break her heart again. And damn it, he’d been right about her panties. They were soaked.
“Suit yourself,” she muttered to herself with a shrug. Giving her best “I don’t give one slimy fig what you think” attitude, she looked over at him. His smirk said he wasn’t buying it. Figured.
Fooling him before he went to prison had been impossible. Now he was more watchful. More intense. More everything.
Grabbing a mug, she went through the motions of fixing the Jamaican coffee he wanted. She snorted at the thought of him drinking a cup of red tea. She should give it to him, just to see his face.
Her emotions swirled, a jumble of desire, joy, anger, loss, and fear. Why was this so hard? He dumped her. It should be a no-brainer to tell him to fuck off. Her hands automatically reached down to cover her bottom, sliding to her sides when she realized what she’d done.
Without thinking, she glanced over at Jaxon, as if he might be able to hear her thoughts. Images of being over his knee for even thinking a dirty word made her ache between her thighs.
On the other hand, his calm presence reassured her.
“Reid assigned me to keep you safe,” he had said two days earlier.
“Since we’re living together, that means I’m around twenty-four-seven.
If I think for a second you’re putting yourself in danger, you’ll get the spanking of your life.
Daddy or not. You get me?” It made her want to do something reckless.
“Tazzy, you’re spilling it,” Georgia said.
Tazzy looked down. Coffee was overflowing the cup onto the counter. “Shit,” she squeaked, pulling the cup away from the spigot.
“Language!” Jaxon barked from across the room.
The man had always had the hearing of a bat. “Sorry,” she told Georgia.
“Everything okay?” Jaxon asked.
Was that concern in his voice? “Everything’s fine,” Tazzy called back to him. “Just a spill.”
It was time for a stern conversation with her heart. She could not give Jaxon a second chance. What was she thinking? Oh yeah, nothing, because her brain was out to lunch. He wasn’t her Daddy anymore, and never would be again. Not after what he did.