Chapter 52
Fifty-Two
I’m finally combining two of my favorite activities: Jax and surfing. And that woman is an activity…admiring her curves, stealing kisses from those raspberry lips, watching her figure out how to balance on the longboard. I could do this all day. Hell, for the rest of my life.
She stashes, and I sit up straighter on my board, tracking the surface, waiting for her to reemerge from the ocean’s depths.
When she does and her eyes find mine, she’s all smiles.
My chest pangs at the sight: ivory skin flushed from the cold, eyes vibrant, her determined expression as she climbs back into position.
She paddles my way, her breaths labored when she sidles alongside.
Gripping her board, I hold it steady. “You’re doing great, baby.”
“I’m terrible!” she moans. “But I’m having so much fun.” Her face lights as she shifts to sit up, her legs dangling over the side like mine.
“We all suck in the beginning. Mastering a new skill takes practice.”
A knowing smile traces her lips. “I know a few skills you’ve mastered.”
That conjures an immediate image of my face smothered in her pussy, and my dick pulses under my wetsuit.
“Thanks for this,” she says, her gaze panning the Pacific. “It’s seriously cool.”
“My pleasure.” And anything involving her truly is a pleasure. She’s so unfettered and easy to hang around. It’s a rarity finding a person with whom I’m this synergistic.
We’re like the sun and the sea.
“How long do you want to stay out?” I ask.
“Another half-hour or so.”
“Don’t wear yourself out,” I warn, and she laughs.
“You think I can’t handle whatever you and Mr. Remington have planned?” A sassy scoff leaves her lips. “Give it your best shot, Callahan.”
My unbridled grin unfurls as my arms cross. “Challenge accepted.”
“Oh, god, there’s the dimple.” She covers her eyes with her hands then peeks through her fingers. “I cannot survive the dimple.”
I shake my head but inwardly, my ego preens at her admission. “Go catch another wave, Sunshine. I like the view.”
Remy’s missing in action and I’m not sure what to make of it. Jax and I finally eat dinner without him.
“It’s not like him not to call. What do you think is going on?” she asks, taking a sip of Cabernet.
I slice off another hunk of steak. The char is spot on. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe it’s his parents. Or just his bitch mother.”
She’s stewing. “Maybe.”
“What if he’s in trouble? What if he’s in the hospital?”
“Jacqui,” I say, waiting until she meets my gaze. “We don’t know anything. All we can do is wait for more information. And you know Remy’s an irresponsible, reckless dipshit sometimes.” I tip my beer to my mouth and take a long swallow.
She snorts. “Most of the time.”
I intentionally steer our conversation elsewhere. “Fill me in on how your week went at school. What did you learn?”
We try and enjoy the evening, but Jacqui’s stress and irritation over dumbass shows. It’s unlike him to bail on us without a phone call, but then again, “blow it” could be his middle name. And if he’s out there doing irresponsible shit, he can go fuck himself. If he’s in trouble, then, well…fuck.
Deep in my heart of hearts, I’d like nothing more than for Remy to fall in love with someone else and leave Jax and I to go it alone. He doesn’t love her like I do. No one can. She consumes me.
I’m not interested in sharing, despite how amicably I’ve gone along with this scenario. I’ve summoned every ounce of patience, positive this will run its course with Remy eventually cutting himself out of the picture when his head turns another direction.
Jax and I kick back on a lawn chair watching the sun make its descent, painting the sky in brilliant, fiery hues. She snuggles in the cradle of my hips, her back resting on my chest. My arms snake around her waist, and I relax into the comfort of having her right where I want her.
“Mick?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you ever have any regrets…about the three of us?”
My thoughts on this are clear but I also want to convey it properly—and carefully.
“Yes. And no. Here’s the thing…if I had to choose between not having you or sharing you with my best friend, there was only one answer.
” I pause. “I never meant to fall in love with you. I resisted it, but I’m not sure I had a choice. From the first hit, I’ve been fucked.”
“That’s why you call me ‘heroin’?”
“Exactly why. Those honey eyes, long hair, body that won’t quit…
fucking irresistible. But that was just initially.
You’re the whole package, Jax. Your mind, sense of humor, kindness, willingness to go for what you want.
Everything about you makes me want to be with you, near you, inside you.
And now…I can’t see my life without you in it. ”
I caress her forearm and she squeezes mine affectionately.
“If I hadn’t left, hadn’t shut the door, maybe you wouldn’t have gone there with Remy.
I can’t really blame you.” A bitter scoff leaves my lips.
“I’m sure it’s what he wanted from the very beginning.
And because Remy can be a total dog, I didn’t want him to treat you poorly. ”
That’s true but not the whole truth. “That’s bullshit,” I admit. “I wanted you for myself even knowing I couldn’t expect it, considering…”
She doesn’t press, giving me time to articulate.
“But I’ve seen firsthand how Remy feels about you…
and it’s pretty much how I feel about you, so I can’t exactly fault the asshole, can I?
If I have to share with someone, it could only work with Remy…
because I couldn’t handle this with anyone else.
And I can’t imagine choosing this again in my lifetime. ”
Jax exhales a big breath. “I know it’s not normal. And I hate that our relationship is like some dirty little secret.”
I give her a reassuring squeeze. She’s right, even though society dictating appropriate relationship constructs is utter BS.
“Are you worried about how this will end up?”
“I don’t think about it, and I don’t have the answers. All I know is I’m fucking crazy about you—so is Remy—and we’re just going to ride this thing out.” It’s a half-truth. I do think about it, just not obsessively. There’s no point.
“I’m crazy about you too,” she murmurs, lifting her lips in offering.
I land a soft kiss there, but it’s less than a minute before it turns probing, then heated. I cup her jaw, my other hand lacing through her hair as my dick hardens between us.
When we part, the sun’s dipped below the horizon and need for her pulses through my veins.
“Now get your sweet ass in my bed so I can show you how much I fucking love and worship you.”
The answers to Remy’s worrisome absence finally come on Sunday afternoon when he calls…
from the Betty Ford Center in Rancho Mirage.
In a rush, he confesses how he got busted with enough cocaine to make it a felony, his parents bailed him out, and in typical Remington fashion, they pulled some strings to spring him out of jail and place him into rehab instead.
Jax hovers, eyes wide, hearing only half the conversation but understanding something’s wrong.
A twinge of guilt skitters through me as he fills me in, talking a mile a minute since he’s on borrowed time.
Even though I’m not at fault for the crap life choices he continues making, I do care.
It’s just…I’ve watched him gleefully hop on the downward slide for years, choosing irresponsibility and recklessness as if he’ll always land on his feet vs.
break a leg in the fall. Nothing I’ve said has made a difference.
Should I have tried harder?
Rehab might be the best repercussion ever. A wake-up call. Potentially life changing, if he’ll put in the time and work.
Adrenaline surfs through my veins. This is…a lot, and my thoughts scatter and combust as we hang up.
“Why didn’t you—”
“He didn’t have time.” My head bows before I meet Jacqui’s gaze.
“But…but…”
“He risked some shit to make that collect call, Jax,” I mutter, cupping the back of my neck. “Remy’s at the Betty Ford Center in Rancho Mirage.”
“What the hell?”
“He got busted with coke, and his parents bailed him out of jail and pulled their magical purse strings to work some deal.”
I yank open the fridge, grab a beer, and drain half.
“How much coke?” she asks, unmoving.
“A crap ton. Enough to charge him with possession and intent to sell, a felony with almost assured prison time.”
“Goddamn him. So now he’s in rehab?” There’s the anger.
“Apparently. But in exchange, Mom and Dad are running the show, and he’s not sure how long he’s going to be there. It could be months.”
She seems to struggle for words. “H-he didn’t want to talk to me?”
“He wasn’t even supposed to call. Said he has zero phone privileges, but he wanted us to know what happened and that he’s sorry.”
“He’s sorry?” She sinks into a nearby chair, visibly unraveling.
The more we talk, the more she lands on the worst-case scenario.
Except her worst-case scenario is my lottery ticket, and those conflicting realizations churn like gravel in a blender, loud with painful ricochets.
I engage my well-engineered compartmentalization techniques so I can step up how she needs.
But hours later, as Jax gets ready to split, I’m not sure it’s done a damn bit of good by the look on her face.
I pull her in close and plant a lingering kiss on her forehead. “Call me when you get home so I know you’re safe.”
She nods, chewing on her lower lip, still distracted.
I walk her to her car and open the door. “I love you.” The words sound wholly lacking, not enough to capture what I really mean.
“I love you, too. So much.”
She slides into the driver’s seat, and I gently shut the door before she takes off.
Tracking her VW Bug until it’s gone from sight, worry etches in my brain.
How will she manage this? How will I? What’s going to happen to Remy?
Will this change everything how I hope? The toughest unanswered question…
Does Jacqui want only me?