Page 74 of Beneath the Hood

I force myself to keep my gaze on Karen and lean against my toolbox. “How come you’ve been sending someone else to drop off my packages?” I pout.

Karen’s cheeks heat, the way they always do when I turn on the charm. My shoulders relax, anxiety loosening its hold around my stomach.

“There’s not enough hours in the day, I’m afraid.” She smiles but her eyes cut to Blakely. “I can’t be the one doing everything around here.”

I press a hand to my chest. “I thoughtIwas your favorite part of the day.”

Karen huffs out a laugh and wags her finger. “Oh, no Jax.You, I need to handle in small doses.”

I heave a sigh. “Well... I won’t lie and say I’m not wounded.”

Blakely rolls her eyes.

Karen’s smile grows. “This is exactly why. You’re incorrigible.”

“I think you mean lovable.” I wink.

“Well... that too.” She grins and turns toward Blakely. “Come on, Miss Donahue, let’s allow Jax to get back to work.”

Blakely straightens her spine and nods, moving to follow Karen into the main building.

My legs jerk, urging me to go after her, but I force myself to stay in place as I watch her walk away. But then she pauses, her hand wrapped around the edge of the door, and she turns back to me, mouthing, “Tonight?”

I grin, blowing out a breath of relief and jerking my head in a short nod.

Tonight.

35

Blakely

Monday is my new favorite day.

After going this weekend without seeing Jax, I’m vibrating with excitement to get to Donahue Motors, just to be around him. Plus, Mondays aremine.The one night I’ve negotiated with Sierra into having all to myself. No putting on a show. No doing or being anything. Just me, my sweats, and a movie, staying as far away from social media as possible.

Because in reality, I don’t really enjoy it.

I’ve never told a soul that, and I don’t think I ever will. Even thinking it feels like I’m spitting in the face of the very platforms that have made my career. Social media is the reason why I’ve been able to avoid being known as just another socialite, with a fat bank and a strong last name.

But Mondays are for me.

And now they’re for me and Jackson.

Originally, I was planning on having him over to my place. It’s easier that way, no one is ever around, and I don’t have to involve Lennox in my secrets. But my father has suddenly decided to be a homebody, and while I’m sure it won’t last, I don’t want to take the risk of him seeing Jackson. So that leaves me with two choices.

One: I can sneak out again.

Two: I can go to Lennox and plead for his silence. For his loyalty.

Both options make queasiness churn in my gut.

The nausea strengthens when I knock on Lennox’s cottage at the back of our estate, my fingernails tearing into the palm of my hand.

The door swings open. “What?” he snaps.

I step back, shocked at his clipped tone.What the hell?

His eyes focus in on me and his face smooths, a blank mask dropping over the rage that was just pouring from his eyes.

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