Beloved (21 page)

I smile and bite my lip, embarrassed for being caught staring at this glorious man yet again. There’s so much more to him than just looks, though. He makes me laugh and compliments me. He consoled me in the car after I got the news about my father. Unlike most men I’ve had in my life, he seems to care about others before himself. He climbs into bed and raises a brow. I sigh. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You. Me. Us. I don’t know. Everything.” My heart is pounding as I relay more than I wanted to. It’s like he forces the truth out of me without even doing anything.

“Don’t overthink this. We’ll take things as they come.” He pulls me against his chest and tucks my hair behind my ear. “I want us to spend time together and stop fighting what we feel. I want to kiss you and not feel like I’m doing something wrong. I know we have a lot going on, and the fact that I’m your client complicates things. But we keep it professional at work and when I have you alone”—he drops his voice so it’s low and seductive—“I make no promises.” He rolls us on our sides so we can look at each other.

“I don’t want this to affect my work. When we’re in the client-publicist role, I need you to let me do my job.” I smile and rub my hand across his stubble. “My career matters to me. I need to know you understand that.”

“Do you think
my
career doesn’t matter to me? I own and run two companies, one of which takes me away for periods of time. Though, I didn’t want the cosmetics company. If it weren’t for Danielle, I would have sold it by now.” His admission takes me back a little. If he didn’t want the company, why does he own it? And why does Danielle matter in that equation?

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Danielle is a long-time friend of the family. She’s worked extremely hard to make Raven what it is today. She helped run the business when I was tied up with the security company, but her heart is in the lab. She really didn’t want to handle the business end.” He rolls back and puts his hand behind his head. “I entered the Navy when I was twenty-two. I did eight years, saved every penny I made, and invested it well. When—” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “Anyway, I got out of the Navy and invested in the security company. I didn’t know it would do so well.” I lie with my head on his chest and trace the tattoo there. I sense there’s more he’s not telling me about why he got out of the military. I can’t put my finger on it, but I felt him tense when he got to that part.

I rest my hand on his chest and put my chin on it. “Why a security company?”

He smiles at me with a glimmer in his eyes. “I figured that was obvious. I mean, I’m pretty badass. I have to keep this persona.” Jackson grins and taps my nose.

“So humble.” I roll my eyes. I run my hands down his chest and give him a playful smile.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing, Mr. I’m a Navy SEAL who’s charming, endearing, oh, and God’s gift to women.” I smile and remember his bullshit reason to get me to dinner with him. I sit up and pull the sheet around me. “Hey! You made me a bet, Muffin. I want to know my time from that insane course yesterday.”

He pulls the sheet down, exposing my breasts, and rips it farther away when I try to grab it. “Muffin, huh?” He leans up and I try to hold my ground and not back away. “Are you sure you want to call me that?” His one brow raises and his eyes darken. Oh shit. I’m in trouble now.

Mustering my courage, I respond, “I’m pretty sure I already did. Now I want my time!”

Jackson crawls toward me and I scamper backward. I’m smiling, but I know I’m going to pay for this. “Where are you going? You started this game, baby.” I try to scoot back but I’m going to be off the bed in about two seconds.

“You owe me my time and a spa day.”

He smiles and lunges for me. I laugh as he starts to tickle me relentlessly. “Jackson … stop,” I try to say through fits of giggles. “Oh my God … Stop!” He doesn’t let up.

“Will you call me Muffin again?” he asks while I try to catch my breath.

“Yes!”

The mischief is back in his eyes as he begins tickling me again. I squirm and writhe on the bed. He stills suddenly and I realize he’s extremely turned on. I’m gasping for air as he brings his mouth down, stopping right before his perfect lips connect with mine. His eyes crinkle in the corners and I try to kiss him, but he backs away. So not fair! “Wanna rethink your answer?”

Two can play at this game. I raise my arms over my head and stretch. His eyes shift to my breasts and I smile. Good, it’s working. “What if I called you a different muffin?” He doesn’t respond, so I tilt his chin so he’s looking in my eyes. “Jackson?”

“Huh?” The confusion is evident as his gaze shifts back to my exposed body before returning to my face.

I raise my eyebrows at his question.

Seeming to recover, he smirks and leans toward me again. “What kind of muffin are you referring to?”

“Oh, I don’t know …” I sigh dramatically. “You know, there are a lot of muffins. Corn, blueberry, chocolate chip, stud muffin—”

Jackson crushes his mouth against mine, effectively ending the conversation.

After one of the best mornings I’ve had in a long time, I kicked Jackson out so I could get ready. We’re heading back to New Jersey late in the evening and I needed to get some work done. I managed to get some emails sorted and check my voicemails. All in all, I’ve been pretty damn productive. I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling, and my cheeks are starting to hurt.

I hear a ding on my phone.

Jackson: Hey, I need to go to the office. We need to leave in 30 min.

Me: Okay. No problem.

There must me something serious going on. He’s been on the phone several times, has gone in to the office, and seems tense when it comes to anything regarding his security firm. I start to pack my bags and close my laptop. Luckily, there isn’t too much stuff to pick up. I close my eyes, remembering how Jackson was so reluctant to leave this morning, how he melted another part of my carefully constructed wall. It’s so easy to be comfortable around him.

Twenty minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. Grabbing my bags and giving the room a once over, my trepidation soars. What do I say or do? I’m not good at this crap, which is why I’ve always been in a relationship. I don’t know what this is, so I don’t know how to act. Another bang on the door. I can’t hide since he’s my ride home. I channel some inner strength and head to the door.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He smiles and leans in, pressing his lips to mine.

Maybe this won’t be so awkward.

“Hey.” I look him over and grin. Now that I know what’s underneath those clothes, it’s virtually impossible not to stare. His eyes narrow and his dimple reappears.

“Are you mentally undressing me?”

Cocky ass.

“No!” Damn him and his ability to read me. “What time is our flight?”

He smiles and grabs my bag—always the gentleman. “We leave around six, but I may have to push it back depending on what I find out when I get to the office.”

Letting my curiosity get the best of me, words tumble out of my mouth as we head to the elevator. “What’s going on? Can I help?” He looks over with his head cocked to the side. “I’m not trying to pry.” And here I go with my overstepping. I swear one day I’ll keep my big mouth shut.

“You’re not prying.” Jackson’s fingers interlace with mine and my heart skips a beat. Just the small physical touch he gives me is reassuring. “I told you we have contracts, but our contracts are very different. Basically, my company trains men and women to go to a war zone. They get paid a lot of money, but it’s hazardous. We get funded by the government and we send a team to do various missions or security details.”

“Wow, sounds dangerous.”

“It can be, but we make sure our people have the best equipment, training, and anything else they could need while they’re out there. It’s why most of my team are former SEALs or prior military.”

It’s insane to think people volunteer to go to Iraq and Afghanistan when they aren’t in the military. Ice shoots through my veins, freezing me in place. What if Jackson has to go? I’m sure he’s been before and it’s obvious he’s trained, but still. Would he spend long periods of time there?

Jackson stops and cups my face. “What is it?”

Unable to articulate my sudden anxiety, I shake my head and smile. “Nothing. Sorry. I’m trying to understand why anyone would do that voluntarily.” I’m not going to bring up that it’s him I’m worried about. For all I know this relationship—or whatever it is—could be done next week. I break his hold and head toward the elevator. I need to shake this dread from the pit of my stomach. Otherwise, this thing we have might be over before it actually begins.

“Well, for a lot of us it’s that we miss serving. But it’s different for everyone.”

I guess that makes sense. I’m hoping he doesn’t have that same desire. I’m not sure I’d be strong enough to handle it. However, I’d rather not go there right now.

The ride to the office is quiet. About thirty minutes later, we arrive at Cole Security. I’m hoping to see a little more of what Jackson’s world is like. We walk in and head straight to his office. A few people raise their hands but they’re either immersed in paperwork or on the phone. I head over to the wall of photos and take a closer look. Mark is in a lot of them along with three other men. They look like they’re really close.

“Jackson?” He looks up. “Who are these guys?” I ask, pointing to the picture of the five of them all smiling in their uniforms.

He walks over, smiling, and takes the picture down. “This is Mark.” He points and then hangs the photo back on the wall. “The other guys were in my unit. Aaron.” He points to the one guy in the middle. “He works for me here. But Brian and Fernando died on a mission.” He runs his fingers through his hair with his eyes downcast. I want to console him but someone walks in before I have the chance.

“Hey, you’re here. Good.” A stocky guy with a goatee comes in the door. I recognize him as Aaron from the picture. He heads over to Jackson’s desk as he searches through the papers in his hand.

“Aaron, this is Catherine.”

I smile and lift my hand. He smiles and looks back to Jackson. Okay. A man of few words.

“I talked to a few people at the base, but so far nothing. I think some of us should head out and oversee the team in place now. The information is sketchy and I don’t like it. There’s something that doesn’t feel right.” Aaron speaks so fast that I have a hard time keeping up. He keeps grabbing at his neck, obviously stressed.

Jackson clears his throat and starts to pace. After a few minutes of back and forth, and what appears to be a lot of consideration, he answers, “Talk to Mark. If you both agree, then fine, get a team together. I want you or Mark on point. I don’t know what’s going on out there, but we need to get it settled and I don’t trust anyone else.”

“I agree, Muff. I’m going to see who’s on standby and also work some other angles. I don’t want to head out there with Natalie so close to delivering, but I will if it comes to that.”

“Fuck, I forgot she’s due soon. Let’s try to avoid anyone going if we can. See if you can work any more contacts and find out why their shipments are delayed.” Jackson glances at me and then looks back to Aaron.

“Okay, I’ll keep you in the loop.” Aaron heads back out and I smile, nodding as he walks past.

I stand by the wall, unsure of what to do. There’s something going on in his company and he’s dealing with launching a new campaign with his other company. It’s a lot to take on. How do I fit into all this? This question and my own uncertainties are always looming. I make myself a promise to keep this under control. Jackson brings out my strength and I’m going to find a way to let that show more. Looking at his friends and all the things he’s done is astounding. He’s a leader, a friend, and seems to be loved by many.

“Ready?”

“Ah!” I nearly scream as he scares the shit out of me. Lost in the photos and my own inner thoughts, Jackson’s stealth mode catches me off guard yet again.

His deep, throaty chuckle is against my neck as his arms wrap around me from behind.

“Seriously, this is getting old.” I mean really, am I that oblivious?

He runs his face against my neck, his stubble scratching against my skin. Leaning back into his embrace, he places chaste kisses on my shoulder and neck as he runs his hands up my arms and squeezes. When he stops, I turn to face him. His eyes are desolate—completely void—as they look at the photos on the wall.

“Jackson? Are you okay?” I ask apprehensively.

When he looks at me, he looks sad. He winces when I place my hand on his arm so I drop it. It’s the same look he had the last time he glimpsed at the photos and, like then, I’m unsure how to proceed. I don’t want to push him, but I want to know what’s causing him pain. I try again by placing my hand on his face, rubbing it on his scruffy cheek. Our gazes lock and I watch his eyes gloss with unshed tears. Leaning up, I place a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I’m fine. I’m just lost in memories,” he finally replies, giving me some insight into what’s troubling him. I hate seeing anyone hurting, but for some reason Jackson’s pain feels like my own, worse even. And that scares me—a lot.