Jackson (Wild Boys After Dark, #3)(22)

He was pushing her away in the harshest way possible—and she saw right through it. It was hidden behind the sheen of determination in his eyes, where only she could see it. Hidden beneath the strength in his voice, where only she could detect it. But she’d never had to fight for Jackson before. She’d never had to find a way into his heart. It was like she’d been born nestled inside it, safely cocooned by him at all times. Except now she felt raw, exposed. Alone.

“Laney?”

She closed her eyes, fisting her hand around the black box that had started this torrent of hell whirring. Her throat thickened at the sound of his boots crushing leaves, the feel of his big hand on her shoulder. He crouched beside her and reached for her hand, opening her white-knuckled fingers. The velvet box was a beacon between them.

Without a word he folded her fingers back over it, and she caught sight of the tattoo in his palm.

He kissed the top of her head and whispered in a gravelly voice full of love and not enough sleep, “We should go.”

She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to end their treasured trip like this. She knew she could get through to him. He was just scared. She didn’t understand it—he was never scared of a single thing—but somehow she knew that this…The finality of having to commit was too much for him.

Her heart spilled out in a whisper. “You don’t have to marry me.”

He squeezed her shoulder.

“Nothing has to change.” The thinness of her voice sent a shiver up her spine. She closed her eyes against the uneasy feeling growing inside her, reaching out like tentacles gripping her heart and squeezing so hard it morphed her sadness to anger.

What am I doing? What am I offering you?

Herself on a f*cking silver platter? No strings attached?

Just like always?

She’d been fine with it until now. What the hell did that say about her?

But now…Now that she had an offer for more, she was thinking about more. Maybe she even wanted more. Now no strings attached wasn’t enough.

She rose to her feet with the sudden realization.

“I was wrong,” she said angrily. “Something has to change. Your brothers changed, Jackson. Logan, a man who sealed his heart off in a concrete cave, changed. Even Heath, who claimed not to have time or desire for a woman, fell head over heels in love and changed. People change.” She stumbled backward. “I’ve changed, Jackson.”

He rose slowly, unfolding his powerful body and pulling back his broad shoulders with grace and dignity that belied any reaction to the statements she’d just made. He stared down at her, the air between them sizzling the way it always had, passionate and relentless. And somehow—God, somehow—he managed to keep his emotions in check. Unlike Laney, who wanted to scream and holler and fight until this whole mess was out on the table.

“Are we ready?” he asked calmly. “We’ve got a long hike down the mountain.”

She stepped in closer. “Oh yeah, I’m ready, all right.”

She could force strength to her voice, and she could snub her nose at him as if she didn’t give a rat’s ass if he wanted to be a prick. But fooling her heart was a whole different ball game—and she didn’t give a damn what that said about her.





Chapter Ten


AN ESCAPE. THAT’S what Jackson needed right now. A sweet, sexy body with bedroom eyes and the ability to make him come until he couldn’t think straight. A solid dose of the reasons why he couldn’t tell Laney how he really felt. She hadn’t spoken to him the whole drive back from the mountains, and he didn’t blame her. He hadn’t exactly been Mr. Cordial when she’d poured her heart out, acting as if she hadn’t said a damn word. Goddamn it. He hated seeing the destroyed look in her eyes. He’d protected her for all these years, and now he was the one causing her pain. It sucked. It more than sucked. It bowled him over like a tidal wave, drowning him in self-loathing.

He was doing the right thing. He loved Laney too much to be the guy who f*cked up the rest of her life. At least that’s what he told himself.

Fuck. Life should not be this complicated.

After dumping his camping gear at home and forcing himself to ignore the scent of her perfume, which lingered everywhere, he took a long, hot shower and headed over to NightCaps to drown his thoughts—and maybe pick up a willing woman to f*ck the self-loathing out of him.

NightCaps was crowded—thank God. He needed distractions tonight.

“Isn’t this your camping week with Erica?” Dylan Bad, the owner of NightCaps and a childhood friend of Jackson’s, slid a glass of whiskey across the bar.

“Yup,” Jackson grumbled as he brought the glass to his lips, tipped his head back, and emptied the glass in one gulp. He lifted his brows as he slid the glass back to Dylan for a refill.

Dylan refilled the glass, his dark eyes narrowed, skeptical. “Anything you want to talk about?”

Jackson slid his gaze down the bar, checking out a buxom brunette and her blond friend. The brunette’s crimson lips curved up in a seductive smile. He lifted his glass as he answered Dylan, eyes still on the brunette. “Nope.” He downed the drink and pushed the empty glass across the bar again.

“She’s a sure thing,” Dylan said in a hushed tone as he refilled Jackson’s drink. “I hear her friend’s into kink, too.”