All We Are (8th Sin Book 2) Page 3
I probably would pry it out of him any other day but today I am more focused on the task at hand because the sooner I get my work done, I can go home and think of a new strategy to get closer to the 8th sin.
Jackson’s phone rings and I hit number one and put it on speaker.
“Yes?”
“Ms. Arnold.”
“Hi, Wendy.” Wendy is a receptionist. She’s a little bit older than me and very quiet, but she works hard and always has a smile on her face.
“Jackson called and asked if you could run some papers over to the old factory on Birch. The owner is ready to sign the paperwork, he just wants to look over a few things.”
Just what I want to be doing, dealing with people that are indecisive about whether or not they want to let Jackson tear down their property to make whatever he sees fit.
“Are they there now?” I gather up the files and open the drawer putting them away.
“He said they would be there in twenty minutes.”
I sigh. “I’m on my way. Tell him not to worry.” I gather my keys and purse and turn off the light in his office. I can’t leave the owners waiting.
***
I stop the car and prepare myself for my encounter with whoever is behind this latest deal Jackson is a part of. I pocket my keys and step out into the parking lot. Several cars with tinted windows are parked on one side and when I follow the path up to the old building my stomach does a flip.
There on the other side of the cars are three crotch rockets. With the 8th sin emblem adorning the sides in black and gold. I swallow down my anxiety and keep moving to the doors of the giant building.
I knock loudly and wait. When nobody answers I pull the handle and scream when a monstrous animal with fur and claws jumps on me and drops me to the ground.
“Charger!” Someone scolds the dog from someplace off in the distance.
I hold my breath, letting the dog sniff me and nudge me. He circles around me like a demon about to devour his supper.
“Charger rest,” a voice calls out again. The dog remarkably does just as he is told and drops to the ground.
I still don’t move even though I know that I dropped the paperwork. I don’t trust this dog. I don’t trust anything that is going on.
“Did you knock?”
I didn’t expect to be looking at him again. But there is he is standing over me. And I still haven’t budged. I draw up my legs and look up at him. “Yes, I did knock.”
He extends a hand. And reluctantly I weigh my options as he glares down at me like he is being burdened. He narrows his eyes on me. “Are you going to let me help you up?”
I sigh, giving in. With one quick yank he gets me to my feet and I briefly am pressed against the front of him. I hate that I now know that underneath his black t-shirt is probably a glorious set of abs. He’s solid and I hate that I appreciate it.
“I’m beginning to think you are stalking me.” He walks to the door and shuts it locking me inside with him and whoever else is in this dark cold hellhole.
I gather the file and paperwork off of the floor and when I look back up his eyes are still pinned on me. “I work for Jackson. I brought the paperwork over about the sale of this lovely building.”
I dust off the papers. “All I need is a few signatures and I can leave.”
He lifts a box from the shadows and drops it by the door. “We were just getting a few things.”
I study my surroundings trying to stay out of his way. “The rest of your meth lab?” I know being a smartass is probably not the best thing to be doing right now but I can’t help it.
And I hate myself when he stops what he is doing and glares at me. His eyes boring holes into me. I think he might want to kill me now. I raise an eyebrow. “Sometimes I say the wrong thing at the wrong time.”
He goes back to what he is doing and I get a little closer. “But really, what’s this place for?” I try to peek in the box but he just drops another one on top of it.
“Nothing you want to know about,” he says. He drops another box and I can’t help myself. My eyes gravitate to his rear end and I swallow—hard.
“Were you going to get whoever can sign this so I can leave?”
He lifts the front of his t-shirt revealing just what I expected, a perfect body. Along with part of a tattoo that ends before it can ruin the perfect set of abs.
If he weren’t so angry I would call him gorgeous. But his foul mood makes it hard to see past.
“I’m whoever.”
“You own this place?” I can’t hold back the surprise in my voice. He doesn’t look like the type of guy to own anything other than brass knuckles and a gun collection maybe.
He nods. “Is that surprising?”
I hold out the file. “All I need is three signatures.”
He takes the files keeping his eyes on me. “Jackson agreed to our terms am I right?”
I open my mouth to inform him that I have no clue but I know that will just make him even angrier. “Of course. You can read over the paperwork if you like.”
He shakes his head. “I take people by their word.” He signs the first paper. “And as for this place. It was my fathers. He passed it down to me and I don’t want anything to do with it anymore.”
He’s giving me way more than I expected. “How come?”
We study each other carefully. He takes in a breath and flips the paper ignoring me just like I ignored him. “How soon before I get the money?”
“Jackson is usually really fast about transactions. I’ll make sure he knows you are expecting it.”
Something crashes behind us and he looks away from me allowing me to pull in some air. I haven’t breathed since his hands were on the contract. I push some hair behind my ear and touch my earring feeling nervous still.
“Nash, we have a problem up here.” Someone shouts. I swear I hear a saw of sorts and hammers. I don’t know what is happening but I want to leave as soon as possible.
He scrawls his final signature and hands back the papers.
He plows a hand across his head and sighs. He’s bothered and maybe even worried. “Is that everything?”
I nod, watching him walk away. He takes the stairs two at a time and when he is gone I go over to the box. I lift the lid and shine my phone’s flashlight into the box. It’s full of newspapers and mail. Even what looks to be court documents?
I sift a little further in the box and find a handful of old pictures. It’s obvious they are older. But the resemblance to Nash is very obvious. I move on to the next one and lose my breath. It’s her—my mother.
There she is in all her glory hanging on to this man that I am very certain is Nash’s father. She doesn’t look unhappy, if I wanted to make a guess, I would even say she looked happy to be in his arms, surrounded by bikes and old classic cars.
Eight
Three days have passed since I had my run in with Nash at the warehouse and I still feel very disturbed by the entire thing. That doesn’t stop me from making plans to see him again one way or another.
“Are you attending that big shindig Jackson has been hounding you about?” Sophie asks from her spot at the pool.
I let out a breath or more a sigh and groan. “These events are so not my thing, but I told him that I would.”
“You poor thing. You have to hang out with a bunch of rich men and woman and drink champagne all night. It’s such a hard life.”
I give her a dirty look and focus on my tan. I’m a little bit nervous about fitting in with Jackson’s friends and fellow co-workers. I’m not his wife; I’m just the girl he is sleeping with on occasions. And if not for him, I wouldn’t have this great job that I have.
“He already bought you a dress. You can’t leave him hanging.”
Maybe I can’t but every little decision I make when it comes to Jackson makes me feel more and more attached to him, and that is the stupidest thing I could do right now when I am trying to focus on something other than romance.
“You’re right. And a little part of me is excited to be hanging on Jackson Luckman’s arm for the entire night.” I grin.
And just like that I’m easily reminded why I like him in the first place. I pick up my phone and dial his number.
He answers on the first ring. “I was just thinking about you.”
I twist a lock of hair around my finger and smile. “Oh were you? Or do you say that to all the girls that call?”
“Only the pretty ones.”
“So you think I’m pretty?” I smile again, having fun with the little game that we are playing.
“So, what’s the verdict?”
“I would love to go with you to this auction.” I imagine the way his beautiful blue eyes light up when he hears something he likes. And it turns my insides into mush.
“It’s for a good cause. And an excuse to hang out with you all night long.”
I sigh into the phone. “That sounds great. Maybe I will let you convince me to come home with you too.”
“That’s just a matter of how many glasses of champagne you drink.” We poke fun at each other for a few more minutes before he lets me know he has some more work to get done.
I’m excited for tonight, and I’m no longer thinking about the 8th sin. I’m only thinking about Jackson’s face and how great he always looks in tuxedos.
***
“You sure clean up well,” he says when I open the door to Sophie’s apartment.
I plant a kiss on his cheek and let him inside. “This was just hanging in my closet.” I smile, looking down at the beautiful black dress he bought me.
He looks around at all the usual spots he would find Sophie but she isn’t home. “Where’s the British invasion?”
“She is on a date.” I grab my keys off of the kitchen counter.
“Do you think I should have got a haircut?” He asks, giving me the smouldering gaze he is so famous for.
I slip my fingers through his hair and smooth it back, brushing some of it off of his forehead but it still finds its way back down.
“You smell good.” He nods and I plant a kiss on his lips. His fingers skim the thin fabric of my dress following the contour of my spine until he has a hold of my neck. His kiss is powerful and full of passion. And I feel magical whenever I’m connected to him.
The way that he touches me--I know I am special. When his hands are on me, there is not a doubt in my mind that I am appreciated.
He squeezes me tighter and kisses me slower. He tempts my tongue into chase and we feed into each other. He moves me backwards until I am pressed against the kitchen counter.
“We are never going to get to the auction if we keep doing this,” I whisper against his mouth.
His fingers grip the fabric of my dress and he groans. He traces my jaw with the backs of his fingers and then pulls it together. “You’re right, we can do all of this later.” He presses his lips into mine once more. “Because I am going to ask you to come back to my place.”
Nine
I have never been to an auction before. And sitting with a group of men and their wives as they silently bid on fancy over the top items is not my idea of what an auction is.
“Next up is this fine diamond necklace,” the auctioneer announces to the crowd.
All the wives gush over the fine piece of jewellery. I’m too busy gazing into Jackson’s eyes.
He whispers in my ear. “That would look beautiful on you.”
I lean into him and inhale his cologne. “It’s a little over the top.”
“You. Covered in diamonds and nothing else.” He plays with my hair, nipping me on the neck. He raises his hand and I shake my head because I can’t believe he is willing to pay way more money than he should for a piece of jewelry.
“You are insane.” I take him by the chin and kiss him on the lips.
“What can I say, you bring it out of me,” he raises a dark eyebrow teasing me with his blue eyes. Eyes that rival any other I have ever seen, eyes that are perfectly draped by dark lashes.
He’s a beautiful creature and he doesn’t even care.
The bidding goes on, one man after another bidding for a chance to get their hands on the necklace all of their wives are dying for. But Jackson outbids them every time.
Everyone starts backing down little by little as the price climbs. I squeeze his hand. “Come on, let someone else have it.”
He shakes his head taking a drink of his scotch. “Never.”
I stay quiet and let him do what he wants until he is the winner of the necklace.
“Congratulations, Jackson.” One of the wives at the table says. “That’s a lovely piece. From one of my favourite designers.”
Jackson smiles at me.
She sits forward. “What could a bachelor like you want with such a beautiful piece of jewelry? Is there someone special you haven’t been telling us about?”
She looks right at me when she says it and the other wives join in all nodding and asking him to spill the news. There must be a reason why he would go to such lengths.
“I think what Marta is saying is when is the wedding?” They laugh and I shift uncomfortably in my chair. Talk about jumping the gun.
Jackson shakes his head. “No wedding. Just showing my appreciation.” He kisses my hand and everyone smiles.
I smile too but secretly I feel bad. Jackson deserves to have a woman by his side that can see a future with him.
“Don’t think like that,” he whispers in my ear.
“How can I not think like that?” I mean he can even read my mind.
“We’ve already talked about this, Savy.” We both watch the next thing up for auction come out. “We only have a few chances in our lives to get it right. And I’m willing to wait.”
That’s why I love you. But I would never tell him that.
“Jackson, you are such a great man. Someone very lucky is going to be happy to call you theirs one day,” the older lady at the table tells him, giving him sincere eyes.
“I’m sure that is going to happen,” he insist. “Life is not like the romance novels. We don’t find the one and live happily ever after so easily.”
One of the men raises a glass. “You got that right. If only it was that easy.”
Everyone laughs. Jackson squeezes my hand. I pull his into my lap and hold onto him.
***
I watch Jackson makes both of us sandwiches in his kitchen. I’m a little tipsy and he’s equally as tipsy and we’re both hungry.
He takes his time setting up the supplies for turkey sandwiches.
“I still can’t believe you bought that necklace for me,” I look at the box sitting on the counter.
“Do you want mustard?” He doesn’t even acknowledge how generous he has been tonight.
I shake my head. “That was a lot of money for a necklace.”
“Mayo?”
“No. I don’t like mayo.” I take a seat on the bar stool across from him and start closing the bags for him. “Does it make you uncomfortable when they ask you about dating?”
He shakes his head. “Curiosity is all that it is.” He takes two plates from the cupboard behind him and turns back around. “I’m at the age most of them got married.”
“Do you think you should be married because of your age?”
“I think I should be married when I’m in love. Now eat your sandwich.” He pushes my plate toward me.
I lift it and sigh. “And obviously you think that you are in love otherwise you wouldn’t have asked me to marry you.”
He chews thoughtfully. I look down at my plate, I want to say so much more but I am afraid of ruining the night.
“I asked you because I’m in love with you.”
That little voice in my head tells me that I am horrible for taking him for granted. I should be honest and tell him that I am not sure I even want to be in love with him for fear of screwing it up.
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br /> He puts his sandwich down. “Come here.”
“Why?”
“Because you are overthinking and I hate when you do that.”
I stand up and go around the counter. He pats the marble, directing me to take a seat, so he can reassure me for the second time tonight that I am not breaking his heart.
I lift myself up and he moves in front of me. And now he is looking at me. And I just want to look away and break our stare down because he has no inhibitions. Me on the other hand, I feel like I am under a microscope.
“One of the things that I love about you is how honest you always are with people.” He touches my face. “Never once have I felt like you are leading me on.”
I don’t say anything.
“I like you, Savy for so many reasons. Some I can’t even explain,” he says, in barely a whisper. “If that means I can’t have you the way I want, I’ll take it.”
Every bad thought crumbles.
And now I’m smiling, like some lovesick fool.
Jackson doesn’t care that I don’t know if I love him. And he is willing to wait until I figure that out. That’s how in love with the idea of us he is.
That’s just how great of a man he is.
So why am I just not giving in?
Why am I wondering if there is something else out there?
What is wrong with me?
This makes me feel like a horrible person. I should feel like a horrible person because horrible people play with other people’s hearts.
I look at him and I can tell he wants me to forget all the bad parts and just accept things the way that they are. And I want to accept things the way that they are because being with him is great and I can’t think of one bad thing about any of it.
I want to tell him that I think he is everything I am looking for and that I secretly think that I love him too. But that’s not something you should tell someone who has already admitted to wanting to be with you for the rest of their life, unless you are sure that you feel the same way.
“I’m not really sure what to say,” I say.
He smiles and then sighs, probably grateful I said anything. “Then don’t say anything.”