Page 9 of The Hitman
“Safe fromwhat?You won’t even tell me what really happened to Mom. The least you could do is tell me why you’re ruining my life.” Red-faced, Leo looks like he’s on the verge of tears.
Jaxon sighs heavily, and my heart aches watching them so at odds with each other.
“I can’t always tell you why I make the decisions I do, buddy. I just… I need you to trust that I’m doing what’s best for you.”
After a beat, Leo turns away and mutters hollowly, “Just go.”
Hoping to break the tension, I step into the kitchen and announce myself with a tap on the countertop. “Good morning, boys.”
Jaxon’s head snaps to me, and my breath hitches at those steel eyes, traveling from my head to my toes. He’s dressed ina neat button-down and dark slacks, but the rolled sleeves and exposed forearms are the real issue here.
Turns out, he’s even hotter than he was yesterday. So that’s great for my emotional instability.
“Miss Finley,” he says, not taking his eyes off me as I walk over to him.
“Good morning.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “You said that already.”
“Oh, you’re right. Sorry.”
Butterflies swarm in my belly as I reinforce a confident smile. The man’s impossibly unsettling, with sharp features and irresistible lips, but he doesn’t have to know that.
I turn to Leo, but his brows are pinched as he stares off distantly with his arms crossed. “Hey, bud. How’s it going?”
When he refuses to acknowledge me, Jaxon’s frown reappears with a vengeance. He takes a step toward Leo, but I shake my head at him subtly.
“Want me to make you something else for breakfast?” I ask before taking Leo’s bowl and moving it to the sink to my right. “Total brag here, but I make thebestscrambled eggs.”
Leo’s chair screeches away from the bar. “I’m good. Thanks.”
He hops down, and I watch helplessly as he exits the kitchen for the hall that leads to his bedroom.
“Hey,” Jaxon calls after him. “Get back here before I ground you from… I don’t know, from everything!”
A door slams in the distance, and Jaxon swipes a hand down his face with a groan.
I dump the sludgy, uneaten oatmeal down the drain. “Well, that could’ve gone better.”
He props his hip against the counter, pensive as ever, while I scrub and rinse the bowl. “It’s been like this ever since the accident. He shuts me out, no matter how hard I try to connect with him.”
“I’m gonna go out on a limb here, but threatening to ground him from everything that brings him joymayyynot be the move.”
Jaxon scoffs after I dry off my hands and move toward the fridge. I gather butter, cheese, and sliced sourdough while he stews in silence, then I find a pan and turn on the stove.
“Okay, then. What do you propose I do to get him to listen?”
His frustration is palpable, and I know underneath that gruff exterior, he’s not just upset with Leo’s outburst—he’s upset with himself, too.
A quality I find oddly endearing for such a rough-edged man.
“You could start by trying to connect with him. What hobbies does he have?”
Jaxon gives me a pointed look, and my toes curl inside my shoes. He’s handsome when annoyed that I have a point.
“Per your previous suggestion, I did some investigating.”
I try not to let that gesture move me, but it does. Spectacularly.
