Against the Rules Page 8

  Refreshed, if not quite recovered from my nightmare, I grabbed a light breakfast and settled at my desk in my home office. It wasn't uncommon for me to spend my weekends working, either here or in my actual workplace.

  Hours later, I still hadn't made much progress.

  I gave up and yielded to the cause of my distraction. I stared at the edge of the envelope that I'd snapped up at the last second before I left for my trip. Even the stacks of files and plans that I'd spread across my desk hadn't hidden it, as if it had a mind of its own and kept sneaking out from under them. My original intention was to copy the address sitting in my inbox, stick a stamp on it and be done, once and for all.

  But I hadn't. Like some lovesick puppy, I couldn't break the only connection I had to Grace. Not even a real connection, like a letter or picture, but a bribe to hear something dirty come from her mouth.

  I was a sick bastard.

  I sat several minutes, tapping the envelope on my desk, debating what to do. A few innocent clicks on the computer, and I was staring at Grace's image on Facebook. It was with some relief that I didn't see any pictures of her with other men, just what appeared to be friends or family. She was quite the little chatterer, posting at least once daily about her day, usually with dry humor or a positive anecdote.

  She really should check her privacy tabs.

  Thirty minutes later, I found myself doing something I hadn't done in a long time—driving to church. I wasn't looking for absolution or salvation. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to dirty her up or have her bring light into my world. But I was seeking Grace, literally and maybe even a little figuratively.

  She might not be thrilled to see me, but if Grace Hart could push my rules, I was going to push hers.

  10

  Grace

  "Don't you look lovely, Faith! You always do, though." Disapproving steel grey eyes landed on me. “Grace.”

  "Have a nice day, Mrs. DelPino." I smiled tightly and narrowly missed being hit by her large purse as she swung around to talk to someone else.

  My oldest sister tucked her hand under my arm, and guided me toward the back of the sanctuary, nodding and smiling and doling out greetings and compliments as if they were penny candy.

  "Just keep smiling, Grace," she muttered the mantra under her breath. "Glad to see you're feeling better, Mr. Carson!" she called out and waved to an elderly gentleman who I swear blushed with Faith's attention.

  "I am," I snipped, then grimaced as her fingers tightened. I pasted on a smile I hoped looked sincere.

  Honestly, I used to look forward to coming to church. It was an important part of me. I relished knowing that I shared in traditions that were ancient. I even liked hearing my dad's message that was always entertaining, as well as moving and thought-provoking. But that was before. Now, I felt like I was the center of attention; like I should be offered as a sacrificial lamb upon the altar to pay for my sins. Actually, not even mine, but someone else’s.

  "Incoming," Faith warned, then broke out into her most charming smile. "Mrs. Wordsworth! I'm glad to see you looking as fit as ever. How is your grandson, Will? He has so much energy. I don't know how you deal with his... activities." I almost snorted at her description; Will's activities were the kind that often had him in trouble with the police.

  Faith's arm tightened around mine, and I coughed to cover my laugh and doubled my effort to smile. Without waiting for an answer, she continued to gush. "Did you know Grace is raising money for the new teen center downtown? Why, I think it's a wonderful cause to help give those children something constructive to do instead of finding trouble! Maybe you'd be interested in a making a donation? I'm sure if you looked into it, you'd find it near and dear to your interests, too. Not to mention, Adam is talking it up in his circles, also."

  Her voice dripped with enough honey to form a cavity. Faith was much like our father that way. They were masters of bringing up an uncomfortable topic but saying it so kindly that you almost missed that it was a reminder of your shortcomings, or in this case, those of a family member. Seriously, acting must run in the family. I don't know why everyone was surprised when Laurel landed a big role.

  "I'd be happy to share some information with you," I responded, trying to match Faith's tone.

  Mrs. Wordsworth sniffed. "I'll be sure to look into it." She nodded her head and walked past us.

  Not even a bit ashamed, I clung to my big sister as she forged our way to the outer doors. She wielded kind words like a machete, clearing our path until we were past the crowd.

  "You're amazing," I told her. "If it weren't for you, I'd still be in there defending what I ate for dinner last night."

  Faith giggled. "Glad to help. I know it's been hard for you here. Feel free to use me as a bodyguard anytime."

  I laughed, and then she joined in. The idea of Faith being physical toward anyone was crazy. She was the gentlest, sweetest person I knew, other than our mother. People loved her, even the BAG ladies. In their estimate, she was flawless. She always dressed in stylish but conservative clothing, her makeup was flawless but minimal, her cooking and sewing talents were second to none, and probably most important to them, she didn't work outside of the home. She was the perfect complement to her husband who was an assistant district attorney with bigger goals in mind.

  Our lighthearted moment was interrupted when two other men joined us. One was Adam, Faith's husband. He’d never been easy or fun to be around, but I always figured it was because he was so serious. I was more concerned with how Faith's smile seemed more forced than it had seconds ago. I was even less enthusiastic when he was followed by his wannabe lapdog, Alton Butkus.

  His face lit up when he saw us. I half expected to see him drool with his enthusiasm.

  "Hi, Grace!" He immediately left Adam to stand next to me.

  I moved a step back. "Hi, Alton."

  Faith smiled sympathetically. Unlike earlier, there wasn't much she could do to save me this time. We paused near the door to greet my dad. The men shook his hand and waited while Faith and I each planted a kiss on his cheek which made him beam.

  "How are my girls?"

  "Good," we responded at the same time.

  "You'll both be at dinner tonight?" The question was directed to the two of us, but his focus was on me. He was frowning, and his forehead puckered, a sign he was concerned I was still angry with him. He hated when any of us were at odds with each other, especially him.

  "I'll be there, Daddy." I smiled and squeezed his arm to let him know I no longer held any resentment over last weekend's wedding and dinner debacle.

  His broad shoulders relaxed. "Good. I love you, girls."

  "We love you, too, Daddy," we chorused again.

  We were finally clear to leave the church. It was a beautiful day, and I longed to go home and relax with a book or take a long walk, but I had other things to do.

  Alton caught up to me before I could make my escape. "Do you have plans for today, Grace?"

  "Actually, yes, I do," I answered, walking down the stairs ahead of him. Big mistake. I could feel his eyes focused on my butt.

  "Oh. I was hoping we—"

  "Grace." He was cut off by another voice, one I wasn't sure was much more welcome than Alton's.

  I could hardly believe I saw Jax standing before me. It had been over a week since I’d spoken with him. Despite all that had happened, those deep brown eyes still managed to bring memories and thoughts to mind that should probably make me turn and run back inside to confess and repent.

  He wore a button-down shirt that was left untucked from the jeans he was wearing. Alton also wore a button-down, but on him, it hung loosely on his frame like it was on a hanger. Not like on Jax where it fit just right so it emphasized a broad chest without looking tight yet nipped in toward his waist. And was that a splash of color beneath the sleeve of his left arm? A tattoo? Those had never my thing, but that peek tempted me to want to see more, mostly because it emphasized the muscle that flexed there.
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br />   "Jax?" I took a few hesitant steps toward him and crossed my arms. "What are you doing here?"

  He took off his sunglasses and grinned. "Lunch date, remember?"

  I shook my head. "I didn't agree to that."

  "You also didn't say 'no.'" He winked at me.

  I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't stop the beginning of a smile. Why can't I resist that charm?

  "Who's your friend, Grace?" Faith stepped up beside me and offered a welcoming smile at the enigma before me.

  "I'm Jaxson Carter," he volunteered before I could deny any friendship with him.

  It wasn’t hard to read Faith’s wide eyes as she looked at me. This is the guy from the wedding?

  Whatever she was thinking about him, her manners superseded. She extended her hand toward him. "Hi. I'm Faith, Grace's sister."

  He captured her hand, bringing it to his lips for a small kiss. "A pleasure. I see beauty runs in the family."

  Faith beamed, obviously entranced by his charm. I nudged my sister. What are you doing? Maybe if we were twins, my telepathy might have worked. As it was, she ignored me, so I refocused on Jax, rolling my eyes at him.

  Adam was too engrossed with his phone to pay attention. But Alton’s sharp eyes narrowed. He stepped between Jax and me.

  "I'm Alton Butkus. I'm president of the church council here." He should have been a peacock given the way he preened in front of the interloper he saw as competition.

  Jax looked at him briefly. "Your mother must be so proud."

  Alton stood even straighter, the sarcasm flying right over his head. I hid a smile behind a hand, but my shaking shoulders gave me away.

  Jax gently tugged my forearm pulling me forward again. "I know a wonderful place to take you that serves excellent coq a vin." He made a point to say the French word for chicken sound like cock.

  "I think it's pronounced more like ‘coke,’” Alton corrected.

  "Oh, shut it, Alton. Nobody cares." Alton's head jerked as if I'd slapped him. He crossed his arms and pouted but didn't say anything further.

  "Sorry, Al, it's a private joke between Grace and me."

  “Al” bristled, probably more from Jax's irreverence to his name than his obvious connection to me. I knew he was getting ready to give Jax his pedigree. Fortunately, Caleb, Faith's son, burst through the church door and ran to his mom, wrapping his arms tightly around her legs, unknowingly interrupting the moment.

  Not so fortunately, my mother was right behind him. I took a deep breath, knowing what was coming as she walked straight to us and held her hand out to Jax.

  "Good morning. I'm Anne Hart."

  "Jaxson Carter, ma'am."

  "Jaxson Carter!" Her eyes widened, and her smile grew even bigger as she squeezed his hand. "Why, you must be Carolyn's boy! The last time I saw you, you were knee-high to a grasshopper! Your daddy was carrying you around on his shoulders with so much pride." Her eyes dimmed. "He was a good man."

  Wait. How did she know that? How does my mother know Jax?

  A look of puzzlement crossed his face as well. "Yes, he was, thank you."

  "I'm so sorry I didn't have a chance to speak to you at the wedding," my mom continued. "Although, I did enjoy catching up with your mother. I can't believe we haven't gotten together before now."

  She must have noticed he was staring blankly at her. "Oh, forgive me. I'm just going on. Your Aunt Julie and I are close friends. I knew your mother back in the day, but I'm afraid Julie and I thought we were too cool as high schoolers to hang out with anyone still in junior high." She shook her head as if scolding her younger self.

  "Jaxson Carter?" Adam, who'd been ignoring everyone until now, looked up from his phone. "As in JAC Enterprises?" We all turned to look at him since not much made him step away from his work.

  Jax stiffened. "That's me."

  Adam pumped Jax's arm enthusiastically. "Adam Quincy. I'm an assistant DA, but hopefully soon to be your next state senator. I'd love to talk to you sometime about—"

  "I'm sure Jax didn't show up here to discuss politics or contributions," Mama interrupted.

  Hopefully, my cough hid my laugh. If only she knew.

  Faith's face flushed, and she subtly shook her head at her husband.

  Mama turned back to Jax. "You must come to dinner tonight. I'm making my famous roast beef, and we'd love to have you as our guest."

  "Oh, Mrs. Hart, you know you make the best roasts," Alton chimed.

  I was going to give myself a headache rolling my eyes so far into my head.

  My mother smiled but ignored his hint.

  I wasn't any happier with her alternative, though, either. "I'm sure Jax has other things to do, Mama. He's just returned from a trip, so I'm sure he's tired." I stared hard at him, willing him to take the excuse I offered.

  "Oh, well then all the more reason he'll appreciate a home cooked meal." She patted Jax's arm and beamed at him like he was a long-lost son.

  I held my breath, hoping I was correctly interpreting the look on Jax's face as one that was dismayed by the idea of a family dinner.

  "Thank you for the invitation, Mrs. Hart, but I'm afraid Grace is right. I do have some things to catch up on for work before I return tomorrow."

  I started to breathe a sigh of relief.

  But Anne Hart was like a dog with a bone. "Well, then another time. Let me check the calendar."

  "Mama," I started to say, but she straightened a hand in front of my face while she pulled out her phone from her purse with the other.

  She tapped some buttons and mumbled. "Let's see. There's the women's bible study tomorrow and Bunco on Wednesday." She looked up. "Friday. Please say you can come."

  "I'd love to, but—"

  "Excellent! Grace will give you the address. We eat at six sharp, so come earlier."

  Jax looked stupefied. Faith and I grinned. He'd just met the Anne Hart the rest of us knew – the woman no one said "no" to.

  He looked at me, and I shook my head, urging him to stay strong. He smirked and nodded his head. "Thank you, Mrs. Hart. I would be honored to join your family for dinner."

  I sighed. My telepathic signals must be off today.

  Mom beamed. "Please, call me Anne."

  I saw Alton's eyes pop. In all the years he'd been around us, she'd never given that permission to him. He wasn't the only one surprised.

  He nodded. "Anne, thank you."

  He glanced at me, and I knew I had to do something to wipe that victorious look from his face. "Yes, it will be such a pleasure to have you for dinner. I'm sure Daddy will be ecstatic to talk to you."

  He didn't flinch. Instead, he extended his elbow toward me. "I believe we had some unfinished lunch business?" He raised his eyebrows in a challenge while my family looked on.

  My mom looked ready to push me into his arms. Faith smiled and turned her attention to Caleb. Even Alton just stood there.

  Suddenly, an idea hit me.

  "Yes, Mr. Carter. I'd love to have lunch with you," I answered, letting my voice drip with sweetness like I heard Faith do earlier. "But first, I have a little stop we need to make on the way. I'm sure you don't mind."

  I placed my hand on the crook of his arm and none too gently tugged him toward the parking lot, calling a last-minute goodbye to my family over my shoulder.

  Faith winked and grinned, having figured out my plan. Alton, or Al as I might now call him, looked like someone had kicked his puppy.

  As we reached my car, Daddy left the building and saw the two of us together. He scowled.

  Well, one thing was for sure—dinner at home with Jax wouldn't be boring!

  11

  Jax

  "So, you and Butt Kiss?" I asked once we were on the road.

  I wasn't happy that she was driving, but she insisted she needed her at least decade-old Trailblazer for whatever errand she was dragging me on. I only gave in once she mentioned I was welcome to follow her to wherever she was going if I didn't want to ride with her. There was no way in
hell I'd gone to this much trouble to see her try to escape me.

  The most I'd been willing to do was follow her to her apartment so that she could change clothes. Not wanting to piss her off, I took her hint and stayed outside while she ran inside and changed. When she came back down wearing a pair of faded jeans and an old sweatshirt that hung off her shoulder, I couldn't help but stare. Until now, I'd only seen her dressed up. But she was equally beautiful casual. Maybe more so, because it was obvious she wasn't trying to impress, yet managed to do so just the same.

  "If you think you're the original composer of that name, you're wrong."

  I shrugged. "Just calling it as I see it, sweetheart. He'd do and say anything to get into your panties."

  She rolled her eyes. "Are you saying you're any different?"

  "At least I'd know what to do once I was in them." I enjoyed seeing her face flush, and if I wasn't mistaken, a hitch in her breath.

  "What makes you think he doesn't? Maybe he's a Dom in submissive clothing." She tittered at the idea.

  I snorted. "Bow tie guy? I don't think he could find his dick if he bent over to touch his toes, much less know how to use it. He's one pocket protector away from being President of Nerdville." I glanced at her and grimaced. "I'm sorry if he's a friend of yours."

  "I'm not sure I'd call him a friend." She sighed. "More like a puppy that follows me everywhere. You do share something in common, though."

  "Yeah? What's that?"

  "Neither of you know the word 'no' very well."

  She'd be surprised at how acquainted I was with it, but she didn't need to know that. "You're right. If I did, I wouldn't be where I am today."

  "Right. A successful entrepreneur."

  "I meant here spending time with the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

  "I'm sure you're familiar with a bunch." She sounded skeptical. I guess I'd given her cause.

  "I don't say things I don't mean." I decided to change the subject. "So, where are you kidnapping me to?" We were on the outskirts of downtown, near several medical buildings. I was surprised when she turned onto a drive that led to the hospital.