Page 39 of Octane

“What was it about?”

“Just a kick off to the season,” I roll my eyes a little. “Honestly, I’m not really sure why Jac—”

Daniel’s eyes narrow when I start to say his name. “I’m not sure why he called it.”

“From what I’ve seen of him, he’s not a smart man. You’d be wise to remember that and think twice about any kind of future you’d have… working with him, that is.”

I put the grapes back into the refrigerator, just so I’m not forced to look at him anymore. I don’t like the steadiness in his voice. He seems so certain of what he’s saying. I can’t face the evil gleam in his eye anymore, either.

“I think I’ll shower and get to bed early tonight,” I inform him, changing the subject again.

As I walk away from him, his voice stops me in my tracks.

“Why? It’s not like you have to get up for work tomorrow.”

His words cut through me, which is exactly what he was trying to do. He may as well have used a knife. I choke back the tears I didn’t know I had left in me tonight.

“I’m just tired,” I explain over my shoulder.

Knowing the sound of the water beating on the tiles will be loud enough to drown them out, I let the tears fall once I’m in the shower. I think back to my conversation with Jackson and a sense of finality roots itself in my brain. Tomorrow, while I’mnot working,I think I’ll take a trip to the bank and find out what options I have regarding my trust fund.

I’ve been saving it for a good purpose, and I think I’ve finally found one.

JACKSON

I didn’t go homeafter Sawyer left. If I had, I would have caught up with her and finished what I’d started down in the garage. So now I’m in my office, about nine fingers of Dalmore 62 in, and I still can’t stop thinking about her. I almost didn’t let her leave. I can’t get the smell of her out of my nose. It tempts me in a way that only a memorable scent can. Like Christmas cookies baking in the oven as a kid. The second it hit your nose, everything in the world was right.

Her perfume swirls around and permeates every inch of my body. Even if I never see her again, I don’t think I’ll ever forget how wonderful she smells. Or how incredible it was holding her in my arms. Her soft, warm skin beneath my palms felt right, like that’s exactly where she was meant to be.

I can’t think about never seeing her again, though. It hurts too much. Although I shouldn’t have tried to kiss her. It was a dick move, and the last thing I meant to do was take advantage of her vulnerability. But fuck, I couldn’t help myself any longer. When she began walking away from me, it was all I could do to keep myself from grabbing her and pulling her back into my arms.

I, of all people, should have the control necessary not to kiss someone who is in a relationship. No matter how fucked up that relationship may be. Once I finally dragged myself out of the darkness that I was in after I caught Kristen cheating on me, I swore to myself that I would never get involved with anyone in a relationship.

I try to keep the memories away, but the whiskey is making my mind weak.

Getting into the back of the Town Car, I pull out my phone so I can call Kristen on the ride home. I’m supposed to be in Australia on business for the next few days, but everything wrapped up a little earlier than expected. We have our final cake tasting tomorrow. Originally, I wasn’t going to be able to make it. Knowing how upset she was about it, I thought I would hop on an earlier flight and surprise her.

The phone rings several times before my girl answers with a sleepy voice.

“Hello,” she murmurs.

It was only nine-something when I landed, so I double check the time, thinking I got mixed up and am still on Australia time.

“Hey, it’s me. Is everything okay? It’s only nine forty-five. Are you in bed already?”

My girl is a night owl through and through. It’s very odd for her to be in bed before the sun comes up, most nights.

“My stomach hurt earlier, so I’m staying in tonight.”

“Oh, man. I’m sorry, baby.”

“Thank you,” I can hear the smile in her voice. “It’s feeling better already, just hearing your voice.”

Even though I know she’s kidding, I can’t stop the biggest smile from spreading over my face.

“I can’t wait to marry you next week, Kristen Marie Devereaux.”

“I can’t wait to be Mrs. Jackson Powell.”

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