“You’re welcome,” he said, then tugged her to her feet. “Come on, let’s go find Lennox so you can kiss and make up.” He paused, going serious again. “And if you manage to get it out of him—what he and Reese are up to, I mean—you need to tell me, Jamie.”
Normally she would have said no, because when Lennox spoke to her in confidence, it was something she’d take right to the grave. But the reminder that he’d chosen Reese as a confidante today, and not her, had her feeling vindictive enough that she nodded and said, “I will.”
* * *
Lennox crept away from the doorway. The sight of Jamie in Rylan’s arms was branded in his mind, throbbing painfully in his heart. He’d slipped out of the loft just as her lips had moved toward Rylan’s face, because he hadn’t been able to stomach it. He hadn’t wanted to see their mouths meet.
Her mouth belonged to him, damn it.
But maybe it didn’t. Maybe this was his own damn fault for not laying out some more ground rules before they’d fallen into bed together. A rule like she wasn’t fucking allowed to kiss anyone else if he wasn’t around. Or hell, even when he was around. Their days of sharing were over. He knew that now.
But it didn’t matter, because she was probably naked on that couch with Rylan right about now, and it was all Lennox’s fault. He’d driven her there by keeping secrets from her. And Jamie was right—that wasn’t something he did. If Reese’s plan wasn’t so goddamn risky, Jamie was the first person he would’ve discussed it with. He’d thought he was being smart by keeping her out of it, but clearly that had been a mistake.
Still, had she really needed to run straight into another man’s arms?
A bolt of resentment whipped up his spine. Jamie didn’t usually act out of spite. The fact that she’d gone to Rylan was like another slap to the face. A proverbial one this time, but it hurt just as much as the physical slap she’d given him before.
He stalked down the sidewalk, not quite sure where he was going. When he heard a female voice, he jumped in alarm, so distracted he couldn’t even draw his gun in time. Luckily it was only Reese. She stood at the door of her building, watching him with worried eyes.
“Everything okay?” she called.
“Fine,” he ground out.
Her laughter floated toward him. “You’re such a bad liar, Lennox.” She held out her hand. “Why don’t you come up and tell me all about it? Sloan just left, so we’ll have some privacy.”
He had no desire to talk to Reese about Jamie. He couldn’t even make sense of his feelings in his own head, let alone vocalize them.
It’s not that hard, bro. You’re in love with her.
The thought was like a bucket of icy water to the face. He’d always known it, but hearing his subconscious voice the words shocked the hell out of him.
Fuck, or maybe he hadn’t known it. At least not the “in love” part. Love, sure. Of course he loved Jamie. She was his entire life and he’d do whatever he needed to make sure she stayed out of harm’s way.
It had been so much simpler when he lusted after her from afar. Wanting her but not being able to have her was an easier emotion to control. Now that he had her, he was distracted all the time. She consumed his thoughts. Tested his focus with her addictive sexuality. This morning he hadn’t even wanted to get out of bed—a bomb could have gone off and he would’ve been content to lie there in Jamie’s arms while they both went up in flames.
He loved her too much, damn it. He didn’t know how to handle it, and he was sick to death of all the changes challenging their relationship.
“Lennox?”
His frustration deepened as he glanced at Reese. There were more changes in play than his confusing emotions about his best friend. What Reese was planning . . . either it was going to work or it would get every single one of them killed.
“You know what? We do need to talk,” he said curtly. “If you want me to seriously consider this proposal of yours, I need to know every detail. Talk me through it, Reese. Every last detail.”
She nodded and held out her hand.
Lennox climbed the steps and took her outstretched palm, gripping it tight as he followed her into the building.
18
Rylan cursed under his breath when he saw Jamie’s entire face collapse. The two of them had just stepped outside, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had upset her. He’d caught only a fleeting glimpse himself, but there was no way to misinterpret what he’d seen. Reese leading Lennox by the hand into her apartment
“Jamie,” he said softly.
Her head jerked toward him, her expression stricken. And in that moment, he knew he’d missed something very important in the year he’d known her.
She was in love with Lennox.
Shit, how had he failed to see that? Maybe because he’d been too busy getting off with her. Or watching her get off with other men.
Never with Lennox, though, but that spoke volumes now that he thought about it. Two people as close as Jamie and Lennox should’ve been boning from the moment they figured out how to use their equipment. But something had held them back. Rylan suspected that something was love, and he didn’t fucking blame them. Love messed everything up. Hell, a part of him wasn’t entirely sure it even existed. He’d seen what “love” drove people to do. The unspeakable things they did in the name of it.
Rylan offered a gentle suggestion. “Why don’t you talk to him tomorrow? From the looks of it, he and Reese still need to go over their dastardly plans.”
He was trying to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work. They both knew what Reese and Lennox were doing up there.
“Yeah, I’m sure they’re in deep discussion.” The chord of pain in her voice was unmistakable.
“Let’s go back inside and have another drink.”
He reached for her, but she dodged away. “No. I mean, thank you for the offer, but I think I’ll go to bed now.”
“Jamie—”
She was already hurrying off, her blond hair swinging down her shoulders with each hurried step. He wanted to go after her, but he knew it wasn’t his comfort she was seeking, or at least not the kind of comfort he could give her. Women came to him when they needed a good fuck, and that was the way he preferred it.
His mind was weighed down by thoughts of Reese as he strode along the deserted street. He headed in the direction of the building he crashed in, but he didn’t feel like being cooped up right now, so he walked right past it.
What the hell was Reese up to? It irked him that she was willing to confide in Lennox, but not him.
He passed the town square. The parking lot where they were holding their target practices. The old courthouse at the end of the street, and the bell tower that always had a guard posted on it. Behind the tower was a pretty park that Reese’s people kept well maintained; Rylan often sat in the small gazebo when he needed to be alone with his thoughts. He’d even stashed a bottle of whiskey there, though he’d hidden it under a loose floorboard so the teenagers in Foxworth couldn’t find it and drink themselves stupid.
When he reached the little wooden structure, he realized someone had beaten him to it.
“Got into my stash, huh?” he drawled.
From his perch on one of the benches spanning the interior of the gazebo, Sloan flashed a blank look.
It took a second to realize that the man wasn’t drinking whiskey, but tequila. “Ah, my bad,” Rylan said. “I thought you found my booze.” He knelt at the board closest to the arched opening and pried it open.
When his hand emerged with a half-empty bottle, the other man gave a soft chuckle.
He settled on the bench opposite Sloan, whose long legs were stretched out in front of him in a relaxed pose Rylan had never seen from him. The man’s expression remained guarded as usual.
“Why do you do it?” The question popped out before Ryl
an could stop it.
Sloan frowned. “Do what?”
“Stay with her. Protect her.” He truly couldn’t comprehend it. “You live and breathe for that woman, Sloan, but I can’t for the life of me figure out what you get in return. Your dick’s not in the equation, as far as I can tell.”
Sloan said nothing.
“Or am I wrong? Are you two screwing like bunnies when nobody is around?”
There was a long silence. Then a muttered “No.”
“Then why? What’s in for you? Her friendship? Her loyalty?”
He didn’t receive an answer, but he hadn’t expected to. He didn’t know why he’d even bothered trying to make sense of Reese’s relationship with Sloan.
Sighing, Rylan changed the subject. “I know she’s planning something,” he said flatly. “Something big. Something that could get her and everyone else here killed.”
“Reese knows what she’s doing.”
The unexpected response startled him. And it didn’t escape him that the man hadn’t denied something was going down.
“Whatever it is, we can help. Me, Connor, the others. Xan is a technological wizard—Reese could use someone like him on her side. And Pike is a stone-cold killer. He’ll do whatever she asks him to do.”
“It’s not my call,” Sloan said gruffly. “If she chooses to involve you, she will.”
“Fine, then talk to her. Convince her that we can be assets to her.”
The request got him a shrug. He had no idea if that meant Sloan would talk to Reese on his behalf, or if it was a fuck you. He didn’t push, though. He didn’t know Sloan very well, but he suspected the man wouldn’t take kindly to being needled.
Silence fell over the gazebo, but there was no tension, no urgency to fill the quiet with conversation. Rylan found the other man’s presence oddly soothing. He really ought to try to get to know him better. If anything, it would be a way to get closer to Reese. If Sloan liked him, maybe she would too.
But as the silence dragged on, Rylan realized the man was as closed off and enigmatic as his mistress. Those two had secrets. History. That much was clear. Rylan suspected there was pain there too, but he wasn’t holding his breath about either of them confiding in him.
He was jerked out of his thoughts when Sloan spoke up in a rough voice.
“What’s in it for you?”
He wrinkled his forehead. “What do you mean?”
“What do you want from her? Her pussy? Or her trust?” Sloan shrugged again. “Because you have a shot at the first one, and no shot at the second. Reese doesn’t trust anyone.”
“She trusts you.”
Sloan raised the bottle to his lips. “I’m not so sure about that.”
Rylan disagreed. Anyone with half a brain could see that Sloan was the only person Reese gave her unconditional loyalty to.
“You’re a good guy, Rylan,” Sloan said, surprising him yet again. He stood up, loosely gripping the neck of the bottle between his fingers. “I’m sorry I can’t help you out.”
With that, Sloan walked off. Rylan watched the man’s broad back and military stride, and tamped down his growing frustration. He was making absolutely no progress. He’d struck out with Reese, and now with Sloan.
He took a sip of his whiskey, then tucked the bottle at his side and closed his eyes. Yep. He had no fucking clue what his next move would be.
* * *
Jamie woke up in a state of confusion. The pillow under her head was scratchy. The blanket was too thin. The heat of Lennox’s body wasn’t surrounding her like a cozy cocoon. Where the hell was she?
She blinked away the grogginess and discovered that she was on Beckett’s couch. Memories of last night came crashing back as she grew more alert. She hadn’t gone to her room last night because it would’ve killed her to sleep alone while Lennox spent the night in Reese’s bed. Or worse, if he stumbled back in the wee hours of the morning and crawled into bed with her as if nothing had happened.
Bile coated her throat as she sat up and dragged her hands through her tousled hair. She couldn’t believe he’d had sex with Reese.
You don’t know that he did.
Yeah, right. Why else would he be holding hands with the woman and following her upstairs? Besides, she knew Lennox. He’d been furious after she slapped him, and Lennox let out his anger in one of two ways—fighting or fucking.
Clearly he’d chosen the latter yesterday.
The urge to scream with rage was so strong she had to press her lips together to stop herself. Beckett and Travis were still asleep in their respective beds, and she didn’t want to punish them with such a rude awakening after they’d been so sweet to her last night. They’d wisely left her alone, neither one of them trying to initiate sex, or even conversation. Beckett had simply handed her a pillow and blanket, and then both men had gone to bed.
She was dreading going back to her room, but she had no choice. She needed to shower and dress for the day’s events. But what the hell was she going to say to Lennox when she saw him? Ripping his balls off wasn’t an option, unfortunately. She was tempted, though. So fucking tempted. She got sick to her stomach when she pictured him touching another woman. It wouldn’t have bothered her before, but it did now, so much that her hands began to shake just imagining him with Reese.
Jamie didn’t know if she was disappointed or just more upset when she walked into their living quarters five minutes later and found Lennox’s room empty. So he had spent the night with Reese.
A growl rumbled low in her throat, then died abruptly when she noticed that his bed had been slept in. Okay. That was better. He’d come home at some point during the night, at least.
Her emotions continued to twist in her stomach as she took a quick shower and changed into her fighting clothes. According to Rylan’s schedule, they would be sparring today. Maybe she’d call out Lennox. That way she could beat the shit out of him for sleeping with Reese, but it would be perfectly acceptable because bloodlust was a requirement for the tournament fights. Well, if she was subscribing to Pike’s sadistic school of thought.
She paid a visit to the kitchen first, where she happily discovered that someone had baked a dozen trays of bran muffins. She scarfed one down, chugged some water, and then headed for the town square.
Lennox was the first person she saw. He was wearing black cargo pants and a faded gray T-shirt that clung to every sculpted muscle on his chest. He looked so good she felt like slapping him again.
He turned his head when she appeared, and tension seeped into her bones when she glimpsed his expressionless eyes. No. Not entirely expressionless. If she peered deep, she could see the flicker of hurt in those dark gray depths.
What did he have to be hurt about? She wasn’t the one who’d screwed Reese yesterday.
Lennox approached her with measured steps. “We need to talk,” he said in a low voice.
“Damn right we do.” Her flat tone matched his.
Their eyes locked.
“You didn’t come home last night.”
“I slept on Beckett’s couch.”
That seemed to piss him off for some reason. His nostrils flared, lips curling in displeasure. Which just triggered a burst of indignation, because he wasn’t allowed to be mad at her for sleeping on a friend’s couch, not after he’d had his hands all over Reese’s body last night.
Jamie’s already boiling blood damn near scorched her veins to ashes when the she-devil herself strode up. In her black pants and T-shirt, with her copper-colored hair loose around her shoulders, Reese looked gorgeous and more rested than she had a right to be. Her gaze flicked in their direction, but she kept walking toward Pike.
Jamie had to fight every urge not to march over and deck the bitch. She watched as Reese said something to Pike before hopping up on the ledge and surveying the crowd. Well. It looked like the queen wa
s gracing them with her presence today.
Jamie swallowed a lump of anger. “We’ll talk later,” she muttered to Lennox.
He was equally curt. “Yes. We will.”
They went in separate directions to join their teams.
Pretending her whole world wasn’t currently off-kilter, she greeted her teammates with forced cheerfulness. Tina flashed a rare smile in response, but Jamie noticed that Sara’s smile was as strained as her own.
“Everything okay, sweetie?” Jamie asked.
“It’s fine.”
The girl’s very obvious lie was a nice distraction from Jamie’s internal fantasies about murdering both Lennox and Reese, so she immediately stuck her nose where it probably didn’t belong. “No, it’s not. What’s wrong?”
Sara shrugged, but her gaze flickered at someone behind Jamie’s shoulder.
Jamie moved her head in time to see Randy give Sara an awkward wave before turning back to his friend Ethan.
Crap. Evidently Gideon had gotten to Randy and scared the poor boy away.
With a soft sigh, Jamie pulled Sara out of earshot of the others. “Is this about Randy?”
The teenager shook her head. Then she nodded, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment. “I think he’s mad at me,” she confessed. “But I don’t know why.”
“Oh, sweetie, he’s not mad at you.”
“How would you know?” Sara bit her lip. “He’s barely spoken a word to me this whole week. He’s totally avoiding me and I don’t get it. I thought we were friends.”
Jamie stifled another sigh. “I think he’s just trying to be . . . respectful,” she said as tactfully as she could.
“Respectful? Okay, now I really don’t get it.”
“Maybe he thought he was coming on too strong.” Or maybe your father made him shit his pants by threatening to kill him if he didn’t stay away from you. “He’s a perceptive, kid. He might be trying to give you space.”