Ch. 22 – Rico
H e wasn’t stalking Jax. Definitely not.
“Jacklyn,” Rico called again as he jogged toward her.
Sure, he’d been sitting in his SUV outside Jax’s apartment complex for the past two hours, but that was only because he’d forgotten her apartment number. And in spite of world-class begging accompanied by his nearly fail-proof puppy-dog eyes, Rico hadn’t been able to weasel Jax’s address from Velma the station receptionist again. Apparently, someone at Channel 7 had gotten wind of Jax’s profile article and it’d been making the rounds among the staff. Sweet, adorable, sixty-one-year-old Velma had given him a truly malevolent glower when he’d asked to see Jax’s visitor request form again.
No matter. He’d remembered the name of her apartment complex, and any reporter worth his mettle was willing to stake out a good story . . . or a stubborn college reporter who’d gotten her facts seriously wrong.
And now here she was, walking through the courtyard of the apartment complex with some sort of object tucked under her arm.
“Jacklyn. ”
This time she looked over, her brown eyes widening when they met his. Lord, she was beautiful. The setting sun illuminated her pale skin, pert nose, and luscious lips. The loose T-shirt she wore couldn’t hope to hide the heavy swell of her breasts.
“What are you doing here?” Suspicion flared in her gaze.
Rico came to a halt a few feet from her. He’d spent the entire week rehearsing this moment. It’d been his new favorite obsession.
“I’m not stalking you,” he blurted. Dear lord. He wanted to smack himself.
Jax took a step backward. “When you have to say that out loud . . .”
“Shit.” All his brilliant words and reasoned arguments deserted him.
“Is this about the article?” she asked.
Rico had spent the entire 45-minute drive up to Yucca Hills practicing his dazzling speech in his head over and over again. His words would surely melt Jax’s soul. Make her break out into tears and beg for the chance to issue a full retraction of her article.
And now, at zero hour, all those mesmerizing words dried up and shriveled in his head. His tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth. All he could manage was “It was mean.”
For a moment, Jax looked contrite. Oddly, the thing in her arms seemed to squirm. Then Jax jutted out her chin. “I wrote it like I saw it.”
Rico had meant to play this conversation casual, pretend like the article hadn’t punched a hole through his chest cavity. Annnnnd then he opened his mouth. “You besmirched my good character! ”
She laughed. “Besmirched your good character? If you think me quoting you makes you look like an asshole, take it up with yourself.”
“That piece was unfair,” he accused. “It was biased. Full of baseless- ? is that a cat?”
Large, luminous eyes gazed at him from under Jax’s arm.
Her chin tilted just a little higher. “What if it is?”
Rico noticed the leash. The harness. His brain chewed on the incongruent information. “You can’t walk a cat.”
“Watch me.”
So he did. As the sky darkened overhead, Jax carefully lowered the small creature to the ground. Cheetah spots patterned its dusky fur. The cat wore a little blue harness connected to a leash in Jax’s hand. The entire sight was so comical, Rico couldn’t hold onto his anger.
He laughed.
“Come on, Styles.” Jax ignored him and tugged on the cat’s leash. Styles stood stock-still, his eyes wide, ears quirking back and forth. Jax tugged again. The cat took one step in her direction, then immediately veered off the sidewalk into the grass. He lowered his head, sniffing, then flopped into the grass and started rubbing his face into the dirt.
“Told you. Can’t walk cats,” Rico announced, satisfied.
“It’s not the same as walking a dog,” she responded, her voice clipped. “Cats explore at their own pace and in their own way.” But she tugged on the leash, trying to get the creature back on the path. The little cat—it might even be a kitten, Rico realized—stood up and took a few steps with her down the path before trotting over to sniff a bush.
Rico watched, amused, for another minute, before remembering his purpose. “I want a do-over,” he demanded.
Jax practically choked on her laugh. “What? Are you two years old? You don’t get a do-over.”
Rico wasn’t giving up. He’d driven all the way out here and spent hours car waiting at this apartment complex not stalking her. Hell, he’d ceded an entire week’s worth of brainpower to this woman .
“Spend one more day with me,” he pressed. “If you still think I’m an ass, fine. But if you change your mind, write a follow-up article.”
She smirked as her kitten crept through the grass. “That profile was an assignment for class. Why would I write a whole new article about you?”
“I’ll make it worth your while.”
“How?” The complete lack of enthusiasm in her voice wasn’t exactly encouraging.
“I’ll take you on a date.” Surely this was a tantalizing offer. At a charity auction for the local children’s hospital last year, a very enthusiastic real estate agent named Edith had bid $1,600 for a date with him. It’d been the highest bid of the night by $200. Take that, Madison, perky LA Rams cheerleader and fellow auction participant.
“A date? With you?” Jax scoffed. “Is that supposed to be some kind of reward?”
Rico would have rather taken a sledgehammer to the nuts than see the look of derision on her face. He turned away from her as bitterness filled the hollows of his bones. He’d been such a fool. Jax only saw him as a narcissistic prick. Just like his sister. And even his closest friends.
“I just wanted to prove that I’m better than the person in your article.” His voice softened. “And it wasn’t just the article. I wanted to prove I was better to you.” He started walking toward his SUV.
Behind him, Jax sighed. “Fine.”
Rico turned around as hope lit inside his chest. The cat tugged on the leash, forcing Jax to take a few steps toward him. Styles sniffed at his shoes before wandering back into the grass.
Jax huffed out a breath. “Half the time I can’t stand you.”
“And the other half?” The hope within his rib cage grew brighter and brighter .
“The other half you almost, allllmost seem like a decent person,” she admitted.
Rico’s hope turned into a rocket-propelled rainbow.
“I’ll consider the do-over,” Jax continued. “But I have conditions.”
“Name them,” Rico responded immediately.
“One, you stop with this suave Casanova routine.” Her gaze pierced him. “I want to get to know the real you. That includes telling me about your past.”
He swallowed, then nodded. If that’s what it took to clear his name. “What else?”
“The date.”
Rico smiled. Now they were getting somewhere. Oh, he was going to wine and dine the hell out of her. Edith the real estate agent had certainly gotten her money’s worth, and he intended to do even better by Jax. “Do you have somewhere in mind you’d like to go for dinner, or should I surprise you?”
Her smile taunted him. “Oh, the date’s not with me.”
“Not with . . .” He didn’t understand.
“You’re going on a date with my friend Everly.”
It took his brain a moment to register. “Everly, as in meow catnip, meow problems ?” Dread tinged his voice.
“That’s the one,” Jax said. “I’ll give her your cell number and you two can arrange the date.” She crossed her arms. “Do we have a deal?”
He considered. Considered some more.
“It’s getting dark, Rico.”
“Fine. Deal.” He stuck out his hand. She gripped it.
Their eyes met. You’re wrong about me, Jacklyn, he thought silently to her. And now I’m going to prove it to you .
She withdrew her hand and shyly tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Okay, well, goodbye, then.” She quickly scooped up her cat and retreated from him.
“Goodbye,” Rico answered softly to her retreating back. Whatever it takes, he thought as he watched the beautiful, confounding woman disappear into the shadows with the kitten tucked under her arm.