Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (Road to Redemption #1)(74)

I watch the woman of my dreams, literally, very carefully. She’s all business, whatever she’s discussing. Me, I’m guessing. It’s not too long before I pull away. I got what I came for.

Confirmation of the FUBAR kind.

Regardless, it’s getting late, and I’ve got work to do.

Like maybe doing a background check on a certain writer who likes getting herself in too deep with the wrong f*cking crowd.





X X X


As I lay on my couch, bouncing my favorite nerf ball against the ceiling, I’m stumped.

Nothing I find on Green adds up to conspiracy participant.

Only child. Straight A’s. Majored in literature but minored in law. Her dad, however, is a bit more interesting. Card dealer on the gambling cruises down on the southeastern coast. Prison security guard for a while. Jobless for even longer.

Something tells me Papa Green isn’t the most up and up kinda guy.

I have no idea how all this ties in with Walker up here but I’m sure as hell it ties in. I feel it in my gut. And it does not feel good, my friends.

My guess is, he f*cked up—small town rumor mill drove Green batshit crazy, and she couldn’t escape her family’s legacy.

Welcome to the f*cking club.

I bounce the nerf against the ceiling some more.

It helps me think.

“Calculating.” Bounce.

“Infuriating.” Bounce

“Conniving, manipulating, chatter-fest…” Double bounce.

“You all right there, Jackie?” The sound of my brother’s voice in the apartment all of a sudden should probably be cause for concern. The truth is, this shit happens all the time.

I know, right?

Welcome to my world.

“No.” I look back at him. His shoulders barely have room to breathe in the doorway. He looks way too f*cking amused for my taste today. “How’d you get in?”

I know the answer. I’m trying to give him a hint. He doesn’t get it, though. Instead, he holds up the culprit and grins. “Key.”

“I thought I took that back last time you broke into my house.” I tried. Fucker has a kung fu grip like you wouldn’t believe.

“Nope.” He curls it up into his mammoth hand. “It’s mine forever.” All cocky f*cker like, he slips it into his front uniform pocket.

Funny guy.

“You seem frustrated.” Nick likes to state the obvious. Always has.

Bounce.

“Yep.”

“Emma, I’m guessing?”

BOUNCE.

“What makes you say that?”

He catches the ball on its way back down.

“Women, that’s why.”

“Then yes.” I sit up and drag both hands through my hair.

“And?”

I look up at him like crazy is written across his face. Because, hello, isn’t it obvious?

“She’s a pain in my ass, that’s what.”

“And?”

I stand and swing a hand at the highly irritating air.

“She’s a f*cking know-it-all, leaving-shit-out-of-her-backstory, and can’t-just-f*cking-be-honest-with-a-guy.”

Nick chuckles. “Anything else?”

And I can’t get her out of my head?

And I’m pissed off she’s working with my nemesis?

And I think I might be f*cking falling for her?

Yeah. Like any of that would go over well.

“No.”

Silence.

He doesn’t believe me, but quite frankly, that’s neither here nor f*cking there.

“Hey, I have an idea.”

“What’s that?”

“Remember that game we used to play?”

“What f*cking game?” What the hell is he talking about?

“The one where we were brothers?”

Oh.

“Because I have this theory.”

“Really.” This shit oughta be good. Or bad. Depending on where you sit.

Nick quirks a grin and nods. “I think you like Emma.”

“I didn’t f*cking say─”

“Up, bup, bup.” He puts a hand up. “See, she’s not like all those other women in your life, if you wanna call it a life.”

“What the f*ck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means she doesn’t kiss your ass and blow smoke up there like the rest of them do.”

“They don’t─”

“I think she gives it to you straight and that both pisses you off and makes you─”

“Annoyed as hell?”

“Interested.”

HA! “In?”

“Whether or not she’s the one.”

I choke on something. Spit maybe. “I’m sorry, did you just say, the one?” Really? Like I have time to wonder about that shit.

“Yeah, you know. The one that might just be able to handle your sorry ass and all its cocky, baggage-ridden glory.”

I snort a laugh out at him.

As much as I wanna tell him he’s full of shit, my mouth stops working. All I can do is grab the nerf ball out of his hand and shoot a dirty look or five at him before I leave the room.

I need a drink.

While I’m fulfilling that fantasy, Nick cuts into my thoughts again.