Page 189 of The Last Good Man

As crazy as it sounds, it’s a real possibility. Why else wouldtheircoat and cap be on my chair?

That’s unfathomable, though. No delivery person would do that, especially without asking for permission.

I don’t know what to do. Go full-on crazy and check the bathroom?

I have no choice.

Mina and my co-workers are still in the other office.

Sucking in a long breath, I pull away from my desk and go straight to the bathroom.

The door is cracked open, and the closer I get, the faster my heart beats.

I stop in front of the door and sniff the air, trying to detect a smell of smoke or aftershave.

And then the door slowly opens as if someone pulls at it, and I hear a voice.

“Get in,” he says, and my mouth falls open.

“Jax?” I gasp.

He pushes his hand out, grabs me, and pulls me in before dropping the door shut and locking it.

“Jax?” I murmur, staring at him in disbelief.

A smile clings to his lips while he takes me in without a damn care in the world.

“What are you doing here? Did you deliver my food?”

He tilts his chin down, still studying my outfit.

“Is that person alive?” I darkly joke, my voice serious, though.

“Uh-huh,” he says, finally looking at me.

He brings his fingers to my face, and so many things are in my head.

Questions of all kinds.

“Are those his clothes? The things you dropped on the chair outside?”

He nods again while I take in his attire.

He wears fancy pants, a fitted dress shirt, and a tailored jacket.

It’s not much different than what he wore on Friday.

It’s only that his looks are more subtle.

He doesn’t wear cologne or smells like smoke.

“I tipped him,” he says, whatever that means.

Tipped him and threatened him?

Possibly.

“Don’t worry about him,” he says, splaying his fingers over my cheek and looking at me tenderly, making me lean into his touch.