“Think about turning home,” Marissa mumbled to herself as she drove back up the country club’s drive for the third time in a week. Somehow, Callie, with her sweet smile and overly polite manners, had shorted out Marissa’s common sense and had her returning to the club for an “impromptu” pre-wedding party. Not the engagement party—that had happened months before. Not the bachelorette party or shower—those were single-sex parties. No, this was a bride and groom and their guests get-together.
She’d slipped out of work a little early, trusting Hill to close up. The sales had been on the low side and there was no need for a bank-run so she’d decided to give him a chance to prove his merit—and she could use the break. She took the time to run home to shower and change. She could hardly show up at the club in her work clothes—again. She’d been saving a little black slip dress for a special occasion. A few months back, Marlie had talked her into going to the mall. After three department stores and the fourth dress shop, Marissa had decided to try a few things on, if nothing else than to stem her boredom.
When she’d slipped on the black dress, it’d fit her perfectly, like a second skin. Marissa had all but shook as she handed over her credit card to the sales girl before she could change her mind. She was so glad that she had as she pulled into the parking lot of the clubhouse. She deserved to pamper herself now and again.
She also deserved to get out of her shop. She made a vow to get out more, to do…things.
When Jax’s face popped into her mind, she pushed it aside. She’d asked him to back off. And even though it’d only been a day, she’d half-expected to hear from him at some point. He seemed to always be around. Always in her face. But so far he’d respected her stupid request.
All the more reason for her to get out and meet people.
“Yes, it is,” she said aloud in the SUV. It was one of the reasons she decided to go to the party. Not to meet people at this particular party so much as to prove that she could get out there. If Jax was there, so be it, though in the back of her mind there was a perverse wish to see him, if only briefly and from afar.
Marissa pulled up in front of the clubhouse. A young man in a red vest tried to open her door before she’d even put it in park, but the door was still locked. He flinched and she dragged him a few feet.
“Sorry,” Marissa mouthed. She put the vehicle in park and unlocked the door. “Sorry, sorry.” She apologized several times as she got out.
“It’s okay, ma’am.” Timmy—his name tag read Timmy—held the door for her.
Marissa pulled up short. Ma’am? Gaw, when did she become ma’am? The door started to close and Marissa grabbed for it. “Wait.” The door closed on her hand. “Mother…”
“Oh geez.” Timmy turned beet-red and jumped back out of the SUV. His apologies surpassed hers in intensity and frequency. He cursed and worried he’d get fired, though under his breath.
“It’s my fault. Really.” Marissa tucked her hand behind her when he reached for it. “I’m fine. I forgot something.” She opened the back passenger door and pulled out the stacked boxes of cupcakes. Her hand throbbed as she shut the door.
Timmy apologized again, his shade of red slightly less E.R.-worthy. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Go on.” She pasted on an over-bright smile and motioned him on with her head.
Once Timmy pulled her SUV away she headed into the clubhouse. She was nearly an hour late. For a brief moment, she considered calling Timmy back and sending her regards in with the cupcakes. But she wasn’t a coward.
Marissa squared her shoulders and followed the laughter and music to the large banquet room off to the left of the clubhouse.
A disco ball rotated in the center of the room as flashing lights strobed from the corners. Women were dressed in hot pants and tube tops while some of the men sported white suits with wide lapels and their shirts opened to their stomach.
Marissa snorted before she could help herself.
She spotted a table with food and hurried over to unload her wares. A couple of people meandered over and got cupcakes before she’d even gotten them all out of the boxes.
“Marissa!”
Marissa turned to find Callie bouncing over to her—bouncing was the only way she could describe the jiggle and dance Callie did, wearing tight black hot pants and epically high platform shoes. “What’s this?”
“I brought some cupcakes.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I know.” Marissa shrugged.
“You look nice.”
“I’m a little underdressed, I think.” A young woman bopped by with an afro and a barely-there dress.
Callie waved her hand. “I only threw a themed party so Mother wouldn’t show up.” She winked. “Not everyone’s dressed up.” She pointed out several ladies wearing perfectly respectable slinky—modern—dresses.
On the other side of the room, Marissa spotted Wes in a business suit. He looked like he’d just gotten off work. She did, also, recognize many faces as Callie had said. One she hadn’t seen, however. Jax was nowhere. Not that she cared. And if a little bubble of disappointment rolled through her stomach again, she’d tell herself it was indigestion or something.
“Thank you for bringing the cupcakes, but you’re not here as a caterer. Mingle, relax. Have some champagne.” Callie waved over a waiter with a tray full of champagne glasses. She scooped up a glass and handed it to Marissa. “Oh, Katie’s here. Drink. Mingle. Go.” She gave Marissa one of her megawatt smiles and bounced off to greet her newest arrival.
Marissa kept her smile in place until Callie had crossed out of her line of sight. As soon as Callie was far enough away, the smile slipped and a grimace took its place. Her hand throbbed.
She downed the champagne and made her way to the back of the room, toward the kitchen.
She hesitated for just a moment before she pushed through the door. As a teen working at the club, she’d been restricted from some areas. The kitchen and the dining area were the two biggest. Not that that had stopped her. She’d always sneaked into the main kitchen and sat and talked with Georgia Hines.
When she pushed through the door, Georgia was the last person she expected to see—she’d been ancient back when Marissa was sixteen. It was a wonder that in a town the size of Oak Hollow she’d never run into the woman.
“Georgia?” Marissa hurried over to the older woman wearing her typical white chef’s garb from head to toe. Her mane of silver hair was pulled back under a navy-blue bandanna. The only difference in all the years since Marissa had seen her was a few more lines on her face and the bright pink rubber clogs on her feet—in the past they’d always been thick-soled sneakers. For a brief moment, when the older woman turned around, Marissa worried Georgia might not remember her.
“Marissa? My lovely Marissa, as I live and breathe…” Georgia’s attempt at Southern charm with her Boston accent never ceased to garner a smile. “How have you been, doll? I ran into your dad a couple of months back. He was bragging on you girls like crazy.” She spoke for several minutes, peppering Marissa with questions and recitation of the tales her daddy had shared, not giving Marissa a chance to respond. “What’s wrong, cat got your tongue?”
Marissa laughed and swept the woman into a hug. “I have missed you.”
“If you didn’t stay such a stranger… What brings you here tonight?”
“Callie.”
Georgia nodded. “That little girl has never met a stranger and every soul is her friend. Come sit and talk to me if you have a minute.” She walked back over to her cook station, dragging a stool along with her.
When Marissa sat, Georgia handed her an itty-bitty burger. “Try one of these.”
Marissa bit into the miniature burger and gave a quick little groan of appreciation. Even if it hadn’t been all day since she’d eaten, the burger would have been a perfect anecdote for what ailed her. “This is wonderful.”
“Can you believe it’s vegan, gluten-free and all that frou-frou?”
“Really?” Marissa popped the rest of the burger in her mouth.
Georgia gave a quick smile. “It’s all the rage with the club members.” She arranged several more mini-burgers on the platter and called one of the waiters over to take it out. “So what made you come peeking in here to see me?”
At the question, Marissa’s hand started to throb. “I was hoping to get an ice bucket or something.” She held it out. A dark blue bruise already covering her knuckles went almost all the way to her wrist. The swelling wasn’t as bad as the pain might have let on. “Had a little accident.”
“Oh dear.” Georgia bustled around the kitchen and grabbed a small ice bucket and filled it. She brought it over to Marissa. “Lemme see.”
When Marissa lifted her hand, Georgia carefully wrapped a dish towel around it before she told Marissa to dunk it into the ice.
“Care to explain?”
“It was my fault.”
At Georgia’s expression—one that said, that’s what all women say—Marissa held up her other hand. “I stuck my hand in the car door as the valet shut it.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. “I was off in my own thoughts not paying attention.”
“It wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the new chief of police would it?”
Marissa’s eyes widened. “How…”
“Hon, people talk. People around here like nothing more than to talk.” Georgia leaned her hip against the stainless-steel countertop. “I caught a glimpse of him a while back. He’s grown into quite a looker.” She waggled her eyebrows then scrunched up her nose. “Even though he’s got to be close to forty, makes me feel like a dirty old lady saying so.” She chortled. “Your daddy didn’t mention Mr. Jackson.”
“He doesn’t know… That is to say, it’s new… It’s nothing. Nothing’s going on between us.”
“If you say so. I wouldn’t turn him away.” Georgia waggled her eyebrows again. “He looks like he could make you forget your name, address, maybe even how to breathe.”
Marissa’s pulse raced at the memory of Jax’s kiss. The feel of his hands on her. Her face heated and she ducked to keep Georgia from seeing, though the sharp-eyed chef didn’t miss much. “I brought some of my cupcakes. Would you like me to go get one for you?” She started to pull her hand from the ice.
“You sit yourself still.” She pushed away from the counter. “I’ll go grab one. Which do you recommend?”
“Knowing your sweet tooth, I’d say the double fudge.”
Georgia patted her hips. “Sounds like heaven. Be right back.”
Marissa was left alone in the kitchen as the waitstaff had filled up trays, then went out as well. The hum of the appliances and the echo of silence off all the stainless steel had always calmed her nerves. It wasn’t until she’d opened her own shop, had her own kitchen that she realized it. Her pop psychology told her it stemmed from the two women who’d been like mothers to her. Mrs. Humphries in her home kitchen as well as the one at the Bistro and later Georgia and her kindness. It was no wonder she herself had gone into baking.
“There you are. I wondered where you’d gotten off to.” Callie pushed through the door. “What happened?” Her eyes widened at Marissa’s hand submerged in the bucket of ice.
“My own clumsiness. It’s no big deal.” She removed her hand, let the rag fall into the bucket then wrapped a dry towel around it. She frowned. “Why were you looking for me?” Marissa couldn’t figure out this girl—woman. She had a hard time with the fact that Callie was a grown woman, not the young girl who’d had the entire club as her playground. Why was she going out of her way to be nice, to seek her out? Before she could help herself, she asked just that question aloud.
“I, um…” Callie’s normal poise fell in increments. Her smile wavered, her lower lip quivered even. She wrung her hands together in front of her. “Jax told me not to say anything. But I feel so horrible—”
“What does Jax have to do with anything?”
“—it’s been eating me for years.”
“Years?” Marissa stood up from the stool. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Someone cleared their throat. Marissa turned to find Jax standing in the doorway just as Callie blurted out, “I’m the reason you got fired.”
Jax slapped his hand to his forehead. He’d told his sister it was a bad idea to say anything. And if the look on Marissa’s face was any indication, he’d been spot on the money.
Marissa’s eyes narrowed. Her lips thinned out and she barely moved her mouth as she asked, “I beg your pardon?”
“It’s my fault you got fired.” Callie’s hands fluttered around as if she didn’t know what to do with them. “I threw a stupid red dress my mother made me wear into one of the washers. I grabbed a fresh stack of towels and tossed them in, too. I know it was stupid and childish. I was mad at my mother and I hated that dress.”
When Marissa did nothing but stare, Callie kept talking. “I don’t even know how the washer was turned on. When I left it wasn’t going.” She pinched her lips together for a moment. “I never meant for you to get into trouble.”
“My dad lost his job because of that. He worked here for close to twenty years and your mother fired him because she said I couldn’t be trusted.” Marissa fisted her hands at her sides. One, Jax noticed, was wrapped with something.
Callie gasped. “I didn’t know. I swear.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “I feel so horrible. I’m so sorry.” She said it through her fingers.
Jax wasn’t sure which of them was closer to breaking down. Marissa looked ready to take a swing, and with Callie, the waterworks could start any moment. He walked over and got between the two of them.
He set his hands on his sister’s shoulders. “You need to go back out to your party.” He leaned close to her and whispered. “This is why I told you not to say anything.”
Callie, seeming shell-shocked by Marissa’s revelation, merely nodded and let him lead her back over to the door that led to the banquet room. When he turned back to Marissa, she hadn’t so much as twitched. He moved in front of her until he was close enough he could see the dark flecks in her light brown eyes. Eyes that, if they could, would’ve bored a hole right through him.
“You knew?”
Jax shook his head. “Only recently. She told me the other day.”
“And you told her not to say anything to me about it.” She said it as a matter of fact. No question. And no anger.
At least she wasn’t going to explode.
“I didn’t see what it would help. She was a kid, didn’t mean anything toward you or your dad by it.” Jax moved closer, but Marissa eased back.
“Is this why she’s been so nice, almost bending over backward to give me business or invite me to things?” She waved her bandaged hand toward the party.
Jax shrugged. “I don’t know. Up until the last month, I hadn’t spent more than five minutes with her in years.” It was a sad testament that he didn’t know his little sister any better than Marissa might. “For all I know, she treats everyone like they’re her new best friend.”
Marissa snapped her fingers. “That’s it exactly. New best friend, indeed,” she mumbled under her breath, but Jax heard her fine.
“Callie doesn’t have a malicious bone in her body. She’s just the opposite of…”
“Your mother,” she finished when he didn’t. “If I didn’t already know that, you’d be hauling me off to jail for punching your baby sister.”
Jax chuckled. “I kind of got the feeling you were holding back.”
“A herculean effort on my part, I assure you.” Marissa eased back onto a stool and swiped a hand over her face. “I was so pissed. For years. I felt slighted by your family for what you did to my dad. I didn’t care about my job that much, but for him… It was beyond demeaning.”
“I—”
She held up her hand and stopped him from speaking. “You didn’t have anything to do with any of it. You weren’t even here at the time. And like you said, Callie didn’t do it to be malicious. She was just a kid. I remember her back then. Knobby knees and skinny arms.” Marissa shook her head and turned her back to him. “Your mother dressed her like some kind of warped doll. I get it,” she said over her shoulder. “I do. It doesn’t mean I can just release all the anger that’s built up over the years. But at least I know why it all happened now. And why Callie seems hell-bent to include me in everything. At the same time, I’m not stupid enough to pass up business.” She glanced at the slender watch on her wrist. “That doesn’t mean that I’m going back out there, though. I might as well go home.”
Jax wasn’t ready to let her leave. He moved up behind her, so close her warmth seeped into him. “What happened to your hand?” he asked as she cradled it in her lap. If that damned kid had done something to her…
“I’m a klutz.” She removed the rag and showed him the dark blue bruising and swelling.
“Damn, Marissa.” He gently took her hand in his, ran his thumb over the abraded skin. He wanted to press her for more info. Wanted to know what happened, but all thought fled when she shifted.
Marissa leaned back into him, rested the back of her head against his chest. For a moment he worried she’d be able to feel the way his heart pounded just from her simple touch. It’d been so long since he’d been willing to share even the smallest part of himself with anyone else. With Marissa, he wanted to ask about her day. Tell her about his. Do the things couples did. He wanted her. Plain and simple.
His free hand came up and settled at her waist. The smooth silk of the dress was nothing compared to her skin, but in the corner of one of the club’s kitchens it was all he would allow himself. There would be time yet, if he had anything to say about it.
A deep sigh shook her entire body.
Jax stopped rubbing her hand. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” She tilted her head up, looked him in the eyes. “You never do anything wrong,” she said almost on a sigh.
“What?” Jax frowned down at her.
“Not since high school.”
“What does high school have to do with anything?” He didn’t look angry, maybe a little confused.
“You were the king of high school,” she explained.
Jax snorted. “The king? What an honor.”
“You seemed to soak it up.”
“On the outside it was great.” He rubbed his hand down her arm. “But then I realized I didn’t know who was hanging around me to be near ‘the king’ or who was really my friend.”
“You poor thing,” Marissa teased but her smile fell. “You’re serious. You had so many friends.”
“I had a few good friends. The rest were hangers-on.” Jax wrapped his arms around Marissa, snuggled her up against him. “No serious girlfriends. No one like you.”
“Like me?” Her heart pounded heavily.
“Someone who would call me on my shit one second and whisper sweet nothings in my ear the next.”
A smile pulled up the corner of her mouth as she rested her head on his shoulder. “And you think I’d do that?”
Jax arched one eyebrow upward. “One can hope.” He leaned forward and meant only to place a chaste kiss on her lips. The moment he touched her, the sparks from the golf course came racing back. The woman lit every fuse he had, and some he hadn’t known of.
Her lips parted, invited him to deepen the kiss, which he did with no hesitation. He’d have had her on the counter and writhing beneath him moments later if someone hadn’t cleared their throat behind him.
Marissa stiffened and pulled away, careful to keep her hand tucked close to her body. “You need to get back to your sister’s party.” She stood, then turned and pushed on Jax’s chest until he was an arm’s length away. “I’m going to head home.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
“No need. I parked it with the valet.” She gave a quick chuckle. “Will you tell your sister good-night for me? While I completely understand, I need some time to…absorb it all.”
“Sure.” Jax nodded.
“And tell her, if she still wants the cupcakes I’ll have them ready, but she doesn’t need to feel some weird obligation to order them.”
“No weird obligation. Got it.”
She hesitated, looked like she might say something else to him, but just looked past him. “Bye, Georgia. It was great seeing you again.”
Georgia pushed past Jax and captured Marissa in a bear hug. “Don’t be a stranger.”
Marissa waved her hand in a quick farewell then hurried out the back door of the kitchen.
Georgia didn’t say so much as a word to Jax. She gave him her famous scary stare—one that had sent many a sous-chef running from the kitchen—and went back to preparing food. When her knife came down for the third time with just a little too much heft, Jax backed to the door.
“I’ll be going now, myself.”
One gray eyebrow arched upward. “You hurt her…” Georgia brought the blade down once more with a metallic twang as it bit through whatever was on her chopping block.
Jax’s balls shriveled up just a bit and he pretended he didn’t know what Georgia was talking about. “You hear that? I think Callie’s calling me.”