Marissa bit her lips together and covered her mouth with her hand as laughter threatened to erupt. She didn’t want to laugh. She was still too pissed. She’d come in to work that morning to find Hill sitting in the back by the worktable. He’d had his bag packed—the few measly items he owned. She’d figured he’d given up on their arrangement, but then he’d told her about Jax’s late-night visit and that he’d assumed she would want him to go.
And her blood had instantly boiled.
Then her sister had called from the club trying to talk her into coming out for brunch so she could sit in on the plans for the upcoming wedding. She’d mentioned that Jax would be there.
Marissa had marched out to her car. One mantra had run through her mind…get my hands on Jax. The no-good jerk. Her ire steamed as she drove the few miles over to the club. She’d barely registered her less-than-calm argument with the hostess, whom she recognized as a patron of her shop. She was pretty sure—but not wholly certain—she’d first bribed the hostess with cupcakes, then threatened to ban the young woman from her shop.
Then she’d spotted her target across the room.
The next thing she knew, the focus of her rage was lying at her feet covered in—she sniffed—orange juice and tomato juice. Both probably spiked. Her first instinct was to apologize and help him up. That was the polite thing to do. Her second instinct was to run like hell for causing a scene, but before her brain could even engage to do either, Bunny Carlisle jumped to her feet.
“What is wrong with you, Marissa Llewellyn?” Bunny hissed through clenched teeth.
Jax struggled to right himself. Callie’s fiancé hurried over to help Jax to his feet. Across the table, Callie stood with her eyes wide and mouth gaping. Marlie held her clipboard up to shield her face, clearly trying not to laugh.
“Casper, call security.” Bunny stomped her foot.
Marissa’s shoulders stiffened. When she and her father had both been fired, they’d been escorted from the premises by the club’s security. It had been utterly humiliating.
“Actually, Jax, you can come in handy for once. I want you to arrest her.” Bunny pointed a long bony finger at Marissa.
“On what grounds, Mother? Because I’m a klutz?” He got to his feet and started wiping at the stains on his khaki pants and pale blue shirt with a napkin someone had shoved into his hand. He leaned in closer. “If that was the case, you’d be responsible.”
It was Marissa’s turn to gape. Had Jax just defended her? To his mother?
“Why, I never… Jackson Buford Carlisle.” Bunny lowered her voice. “You apologize right this instant.”
Had Marissa not been standing so close, she wouldn’t have heard the woman.
Jax stared at his mother for a long moment, then finally shook his head and turned toward Marissa. He grasped her wrist. “Come with me.”
Weaving through the crowd—this time every eye was on them both—Marissa was reminded of the night before at the Blue Spur. A tingle sped up her spine until she remembered she was still pissed at him.
Jax didn’t pause to say anything, just headed out the back entrance that led out to the golf course. He took her past the eighth green into a wooded area. Back in high school, all the kids had come out there to get out from under the watchful eyes of parents or bosses. Marissa had rarely been one of them. She’d never quite fit in with the “club kids,” and her coworkers had been friendly enough, but to them it was just a summer job. With her dad working there, they’d always looked at her like she was destined for nothing better. At the time it’d stung, but it’d also given her the determination to prove them all wrong.
Finally, Jax stopped at one of the ancient live oak trees. He dropped his hold of her hand and leaned against the waist-high horizontal branch.
Marissa fidgeted, didn’t know what to say. In the seclusion of the lush and quiet woods, tearing into him on Hill’s behalf seemed too harsh. And while an apology was on the tip of her tongue, she hadn’t made him fall over and take the tabletop with him. No amount of laundering would remove those stains. Laughter built up inside her. Try as she might, a snort slipped out.
Jax, who’d been examining his shirt, turned to her. “Did it look that bad when I fell?”
She grabbed her stomach as she all but bent over in hysterics. “I’m afraid so.” Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t laugh.” The words were there but they didn’t staunch the hilarity. “And your mother…” Marissa stomped her foot mimicking Bunny. “I’m sorry.” She leaned against the tree to keep from toppling over.
It seemed like a lifetime, but maybe only five minutes passed while she got herself back under control.
“Are you quite done?” Jax had his arms crossed over his chest. The left corner of his mouth twitched.
Marissa held up her finger. “Hold on.” She motioned with her hands mimicking Jax when he’d gone down and then made a splatting noise. She giggled with a decided wheeze. Her sides hurt. She took several deep breaths. “I think I’m good now.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Jax shook his head. “My mother was complaining about people gossiping about my job. I guess I gave them something a little juicier to titter about.”
At the mention of his job, she tensed slightly. “Um, yeah. Speaking of your job… Can you explain what you were doing at my shop at midnight?”
Jax arched a dark eyebrow upward. “What was that boy doing there at midnight?”
“He works there and had every reason to be there.”
“That late?”
“Do you know the first thing about baking, Chief?”
“Quit wielding my title every time you feel slighted.”
“Stop using it to butt in where you aren’t needed.”
He pushed away from the tree trunk and crowded her. “Are you going to keep throwing what I say back at me?”
Marissa jutted her chin upward. “You started it.” A breeze blew through, rustled the leaves around them and circulated the citrusy tomato aroma about. She scrunched up her nose and pinched the collar of his shirt. “This is probably ruined.”
He shrugged.
“Your mother was pretty pissed.”
Again his shoulders lifted.
Marissa licked her lips as butterflies stormed in her stomach. “You stood up to her. For me.”
Jax tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “She was being ridiculous. Ordering me to arrest you.” He rolled his eyes. “She had no reason to treat you like that.”
All the steam went out of her. “Thank you, Jackson Buford.”
Jax leaned his head back and groaned. “It’s a family name.”
“It’s cute.” Marissa reached up and pinched his cheek.
Jax captured her hand. He held onto it and leaned into her. He spanned the breadth between them in an instant. His lips were hot and demanding. Right where they’d left off the night before.
Marissa leaned into him, snaked her other hand up his sturdy chest to settle above his pounding heart. She did that to him, affected him as much as he affected her. The realization weakened her knees almost as much as his kiss did. Almost.
Jax released her hand and gripped her waist to pull her flush up against him. Marissa moaned and he took full advantage, deepening the kiss. But not for long. Jax pulled back. Marissa was all set to protest when he lifted her up onto the low, horizontal tree branch and wedged himself between her thighs. Before she could so much as breathe, he pressed his mouth back to hers, continued to assault all her senses. Marissa hooked one of her legs around Jax and ground her hips into him as he slid his hands up under her T-shirt. His warm hands sent chills racing through her. She tugged at his shirt to untuck it from his pants to afford her the same exploration of his skin. She flatted her hands onto his firm back, walked her hands upward to his strong shoulders. His muscles tensed as she followed the contours with her fingertips.
Before she knew what was happening, Jax grabbed the hem of her shirt and coaxed it up over her head. His mouth found the spot on her neck that turned all her insides to mush. He leaned her back against the tree and stroked his mouth across her collarbone and down to the V between her lace-covered breasts.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said between kisses.
Marissa giggled. “Are you talking to me,” she said a little more breathlessly than she’d expected. “Or my breasts?”
Jax chuckled. His warm breath feathered between her breasts. “Yes. To both.”
Marissa fisted both her hands in Jax’s hair as his mouth worked along the edges of the lace. The rough bark abraded her back as she writhed slightly. He trailed kisses down her stomach. She moaned and let her head fall back, kept her eyes shut tight. It’d been so long since she’d had a date, much less anything remotely close to necking—and God, don’t get her started on the last time she’d gotten naked with a man. Not that she needed to be totally naked to feel terribly good. She moaned. Jax was very good with his mouth as he reached for the button on her jeans.
The rasp of the zipper, out just past the eighth green in the middle of the Oak Hollow Country Club was enough to zap her senses back into her. Any greens keeper, any golfer with a bad chip shot, could walk in on them.
“Jax, stop.” She pushed at his hands as she tried to sit up. “Jax, you have to stop.” Her pulse was still throbbing somewhere in the hummingbird range and she ached—in a good way—in so many places she knew she’d kick herself later for stopping him. But Sunday morning on his family’s golf course was neither the time nor the place.
Jax paused and she saw the moment it finally dawned on him where he was and what he was doing. He looked around them quickly and found her shirt on the ground. He handed it to her, then paced back and forth as he ran his hands through his hair. He took several deep breaths before meeting her gaze.
Marissa pulled the black tee over her head, then crossed her arms over her chest. If she didn’t watch herself, she might just be tempted to throw herself at him, beg him to continue.
“I’m sorry. When I brought you out here…” He motioned to the little hidden nook in the trees.
“No, yeah, sure.” Marissa was nodding and shaking her head all in some weird circuitous motion. The pair continued to stare at one another. Neither made the slightest move to speak.
A loud song rang out and finally broke the silence. It took a moment for Marissa to recognize her ringtone, then she frantically patted herself down until she hit pay dirt in her left hip pocket. It was the shop. She was due to open in less than five minutes. She pressed the button to ignore the call—but she couldn’t ignore it for long. Which snapped her back to the reason she’d driven like a crazy woman out to the club. “Look, whatever this is—” she motioned between them “—it needs to stop. We keep getting in each other’s way, in each other’s faces and I don’t know about you, but I am getting very little done. I’d appreciate it you’d just stay away from my shop.” She sighed. “And stop harassing my employees. Please.” She held up her hand when he started to interrupt her. “Hill’s a good guy who needs a break.”
She glanced down at her phone as it rang again. “I gotta go.” She ducked through some of the tighter shrubs to get back onto the green after which she finally answered her phone.
“Are you okay?” It was Hill’s voice. He was worried about her, hadn’t wanted her to go charging out of the shop on his behalf. He’d been hesitant to mention what had happened with Jax. And for just that reason.
“Yeah. I will be there in ten minutes, fifteen tops. I’m going to need you to open for me. Sorry.” She all but ran across the golf course. “Go ahead and open on time. It’s usually pretty slow first thing. If anyone comes to pick up a custom order, they’re in the freezer and labeled,” she instructed as she rounded the clubhouse. It would have been quicker to go through the dining room, but she didn’t want to take a chance of running into a Carlisle.
“If it’s something you’re not sure of, stall until I can get there.” She ended the call and picked up her pace until tiny beads of perspiration gathered at her temples. She finally got to the lot but pulled up short when she found Marlie leaning against her SUV.
Marlie glanced down at her watch then back to Marissa. “I’d ask you if you had a good time, but you weren’t gone for long.” She scrunched up her nose. “Unless he’s a quickie di—”
“Don’t finish that thought.” Marissa dug her keys out of her pocket. “How bad was it?”
Marlie stared at her for a long moment, then a huge smile creased her mouth. “She went ballistic but in that quiet, ‘I’m about to stroke out but don’t want to draw attention’ sort of way. It’s a wonder her head didn’t explode right then and there. Poor Callie. She’s trying so hard to have a decent wedding. Bunny’s going to micromanage that girl into early crow’s feet.” Marlie shook her head.
“The cupcakes for the shower?”
“Still good-to-go. She’s determined to have her wedding her way. If it kills her momma.” Marlie gave her a quick accessing glance. “You okay?”
“Peachy,” Marissa answered quickly. A little too quickly, but her sister, God bless her, didn’t probe.
Marlie dipped her head once in a slow, deliberate nod. “Okay. Well, if you need to talk, you know where to find me.” She turned on her lavender kitten-heels and headed for her own car. Just before she got out of earshot, though, she stopped and hollered her sister’s name.
“What?” Marissa needed to get going. Hill had no idea how to work the register if any patrons came in. “What, Lee?” She waved her hand when her sister didn’t immediately speak.
“You might want to fix your shirt before you get back to the shop.”
Marissa looked down at the black tee expecting to see the hot pink bakery logo. Nothing but black.
Marlie smirked. “It’s on backward.”