Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
JAXON/JAX
Then
Crystal Pours & Black Lace
She drinks like she owns the place…and I flinch like I’ve already lost the game.
“Hi, Jaxon, it’s nice to see you.” Lorna Hemings steps to the side of her front door and shows me in. “Greg’s waiting for you in the kitchen.”
“Thank you.” I enter the foyer. “It’s always a pleasure to see you.”
“I would take you to Greg, but I’m in the middle of cleaning out my closet upstairs. I just happened to be walking by when you rang the bell.” She starts up the staircase. “Please make yourself at home.”
“Thanks, I’m sure I can find my way.” I stroll through the formal dining room and into the kitchen.
Greg’s sitting at the table at the far end.
“Jaxon, thanks for agreeing to meet here again.” He stands and motions to a seat across from him. “Please make yourself comfortable while I prepare you a drink.”
“No need. I ate not long ago and had my fill of water.”
“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”
“No, thank you.” I sit where he indicated. “I’m good.”
“Very well.” He returns to his chair. “We’re in luck. The ladies are busy. Which means, for the most part, we have the place to ourselves.”
“If they were around, I’m sure it would be fine.”
He nods. “So you want to buy another house?”
“Yes. I love my Malibu home, but after almost two years of trying different decor, I’ve come to the realization I want to gut it and start fresh. Plus, it needs some major updates to match my security needs.”
“I’m surprised you’ve left the safety measures unattended. That’s not brave, that’s stupid.”
“I’m well aware, but I was in Paris for much of those two years. Now I’m back for a while. That’s why I’m making this a priority.”
“That’s a big project. I can see why you need another home.” He places his computer between us so I can see his screen. “I understand you want to live in this area or nearby.”
“Yes, but I don’t need anything enormous.” I scan over his real estate client questionnaire that’s on display.
“What exactly are you looking for?”
“Something with loaded security, privacy, nicely decorated, and comfortable.”
Greg peers over at me and reclines back in his chair. “Let me ask you something. Do you ever plan on getting married or having children? You’re thirty-three now, so I wonder if you’re getting the itch to settle down.”
My mind goes blank. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it.”
“So you’re not buying because you’re involved with someone and plan on expanding your family?”
“No. I’m not dating anyone.”
“Do you want to have a family someday?”
“Sure, but I have time and I’m not at that point. Why? What does this have to do with finding me a house?”
He shrugs. “I’m trying to figure out your motives. You bought a property from me not too long ago. Now you want something bigger and farther away from the beach. I’d hate to get you into another home and two years down the road, you need something different.”
I chuckle. “I would think you’d want me to purchase real estate at every opportunity.”
“Don’t get me wrong.” He shifts forward, giving me his full attention. “I do want that, but for the right reasons. Why do you think I oversee your entire process and not hand it off to one of my agents?”
“I thought the preferential treatment was because we’re friends and know things about each other that others can’t know.”
“That too, but I want you to be extremely pleased with my services. That’s why I’m asking these questions. I need to know where you see yourself so I can fulfill your wish.”
“That makes sense.” I rest back and gaze out the back window. “Give me a minute to picture what I need so we get this right.”
“Take your time.” He sorts some papers he has lying before him.
As I imagine my future, Livianna catches my eye in the backyard. It’s almost December, yet she’s in a black bikini, pacing near the hot tub and talking on her phone.
She keeps throwing her hands up and shaking her head. Whoever she’s speaking to, their conversation doesn’t appear to be going well. It reminds me of my last conversation with her.
I tug on my collar. She makes me…nervous and uncomfortable, so I told her I couldn’t help her with her design business, but I would find someone who could.
She didn’t like that answer and kept pushing me. I finally told her I had a meeting to attend and I’d need to call her back.
I never did, but she still tries to reach out. My assistant has been instructed to take messages to keep Livianna at bay.
I gaze back at his computer and read over the questions he has that will assist him in finding the house I want to buy. What do I really want with this new purchase?
It’s not just a place to live while my other home is being redone. When I’m in the States, I plan on living in it as much as I do the Malibu property.
“Greg, in your professional opinion, what would you recommend for me?”
“If you want to buy real estate as an investment every day, I’m here for it.” He laughs it off. “Honestly, Jaxon. I believe you’re closer to settling down than you think. If I were you, I’d look for a safe home you could grow into.”
“Why do you believe that?”
The sliding glass door slides open. I turn to see a combination of hurt and anger swirling in Livianna’s eyes. She’s obviously upset, but when she notices me, she does a complete transformation.
She rolls back her shoulders, shoves the door closed, and smiles. “Hello, Jaxon Crowne. I didn’t know you were coming over today.”
Greg clears his throat. “Livianna.”
She breaks our gaze and faces him. “What, Daddy?”
“Put a cover-up on.” He subtly shakes his head and gestures to her clothes, or lack thereof.
“Oh, of course. I would’ve had this on if I had known you were meeting with someone here in the kitchen.” She takes the black lace material hanging off her forearm, wraps it around her shoulders, and works her arms into it.
As she does, I notice a tattoo of two pistols with their barrels crossed over each other on her ribs underneath her left arm and another on her chest. I keep my eyes away from the one near her breasts.
The lace cover-up does little to conceal her body, so it’s hard to keep my gaze above her neck. I do it, though, and silently berate myself for letting my mind even think about her body.
“I was enjoying the hot tub.” Her speaking breaks into my thoughts. “Then I had to take a call. You should try it sometime, Jaxon.”
“What?” My defenses go up and my cheeks grow warm.
“Taking someone’s phone call. It could be important.” She slinks over to the table and sits with us.
“Livianna, Jaxon and I are in the middle of—”
There’s a loud crash from the floor above, followed by Lorna cursing.
Greg gets up and rushes to the bottom of the back staircase. “Lorna, is everything okay?”
“No. Could you please come up here and help me?” she hollers.
He glances at us. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“By all means.” I nod and tense.
Being alone in a room with Livianna could turn out terribly. I never know what she’s going to do.
She’s a wild card and I don’t like it. Greg dashes off and we’re left all by ourselves.
I gesture to the fridge. “By chance, can I get a drink of something? Your dad offered and I declined, but my throat is a little dry now.”
She crosses her legs and doesn’t say a word.
I shift. “Is that a no?”
“When you want something from me, I’m supposed to jump, but when it’s the other way around, you do nothing.” She raises her eyebrows and folds her arms over her chest.
Dammit! I see she’s going to be defiant.
“Never mind. I’ll get it. Your mom told me to make myself at home.” I rise and stride to their mini-fridge. I know they have one from the other times I’ve been here. “Can I get you something while I’m up?”
“Yes. I do want something.”
“What would you like?”
“For you to tell me why you keep avoiding me.”
“I’m not. I’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, right. There’s not an extra minute in your day to help a friend’s daughter get her dreams off the ground?”
“Believe it or not, Livianna, I want that for you.” I crouch down and search for something strong to help me relax because I just realized my heart is thumping hard and my breathing has escalated.
Why do I let her get to me when she acts like this?
A bottle of vodka is the strongest thing in their little fridge. I would prefer a scotch or a whiskey, but I can’t find one. I glance around the kitchen.
“What are you looking for?” She pushes out of her chair and saunters her way beside me. “Maybe I could help?”
I back up next to the counter behind me. “Do you have scotch or anything along those lines?”
“We do. What’s your preference?”
“Jack Daniel’s would be fine.”
“Hmm.” She steps in front of me, gets on her tiptoes, and reaches into a cabinet by my head. Her breasts skim over the front of my arm. “I would’ve taken you more for The Macallan type.”
Her perfume drifts around me and I get a little lightheaded. She brings out a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and a short glass, batting her eyelashes at me as she does. My chest tightens and my insides twist and turn.
I swallow and adjust my collar. “The Macallan is a great choice.”
“It’s one of my favorites.” She sways to the ice maker, giving me some much-needed room. “Oh, neat or on the rocks?”
“On the rocks, please.” Because I’m about to overheat.
This situation is messing with my head. I need to get control of myself.
She’s eighteen, for fuck’s sake, and I’m acting like she’s some powerhouse bombshell. I march back to the table to make some distance between us, determined to keep this interaction appropriate.
She puts three ice cubes into the glass and pours me a Jack Daniel’s. Then this little firecracker returns to the cabinet and proceeds to make herself a glass of The Macallan neat. It’s like she’s trying to one-up me.
I sit, grind my teeth, and suppress a rumble from my chest. She picks up both our glasses and returns to her seat.
She places my drink in front of me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”