Page 112 of Naked Truth

“I think he knew but didn’t have confirmation. He seems to appreciate that we told him.”

“Did he bring up York?”

“Yes. He didn’t say it, but I expect him to exit that business.”

“And that’s a reason to keep our security. As Savage said, when someone has nothing to lose, they can become dangerous.” He pushes off the counter and kisses me. “Call your mom. I’ll be here in the kitchen when you’re done.”

“I’m going to go to the front porch. I want to actually admire the view that I’ve been in too much hell to enjoy.”

“Good.” His eyes warm. “Enjoy it. I want you to like it here.” He starts to turn away.

I catch his arm. “I already do. You know that, right?”

“You aren’t sold yet, but I’m not afraid to work for it.” He winks and fills his coffee cup.

I leave the room with my own cup and a smile on my lips. A smile, after what I just went through with York. That’s the power of Jax North and it’s so different from that of York.

I step outside onto the sprawling porch, into chilly air, my jacket missed, but I don’t go back inside to hunt it down. I step to the railing and let the cool ocean air wash over me. It’s beautiful here, the ocean right here with us, not far in the distance. I wouldn’t lose that ocean view I have in San Francisco, and here, I’m with Jax. It’s crazy to be going down this path so soon, but I’ve taken few real risks in my life. Jax feels like a reason to take one now.

I eye the swing and sit down, tapping my mother’s auto-dial. She surprises me by answering on the first ring. “You talked to your brother.”

“I did,” I say, “but I knew.”

“You knew?”

“Yes. Not until he was gone. I’ve learned a lot about dad since he died. Why’d you stay?”

“I loved him.” Her voice cracks. “I always thought I was the real love of his life. He needed his distractions. He’s a man and all.”

“Being a man isn’t an excuse to be an asshole, mom.”

“One day, you’ll understand.”

“I hope not,” I say, feeling prickly. “And I’d like to think that you don’t wish that for me either.”

“See this is why I can’t talk to you about matters of the heart. You’re too fairy tale princess. That’s not real life. I don’t know how you started down that rabbit hole. It certainly wasn’t because I led you there.”

A million little pieces of my childhood and my mother’s lessons on a woman’s place in life come back to me and not in a good way. If I tell Chance about my rape, she’d blame me for burdening him. I skip right past her statement and take this conversation back to her. “How are you?”

“I’m struggling.” Her voice cracks again.

“Then come back,” I argue.

“You’re leaving anyway.”

Which she must know through Chance. She sure hasn’t been talking to me. “Come to Germany with me,” I urge. “Or, are you there now? I don’t even know where you are.”

“Italy. I told you I was in Italy.”

“No,” I say tightly. “No, you didn’t.”

“I need to stay here right now. I have a friend here who’s really helping.”

“Maybe I’ll come to you,” I suggest.

“Take care of the business,” she orders. “Your brother is alone now without you. You need to do what he needs you to do.”

A knife slices through me with these words. She’s worried about Chance. She wants me to do my duty and serve him as I did my father. “Right,” I say, reading between the lines even further. She wants me to stay away.

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