Red-Hot Santa (15 page)

Stupid. When had any of her mother’s wishes ever come true?

She grabbed her coat off the mudroom hook and her mother’s car keys and left the house, the only destination in mind being anywhere far away from there…?.

17

JACKSON WOKE FEELING as if his head was an orange and someone was squeezing it for juice. He could have told them not to bother, there was none to be had.

He sat upright, blinking hard, something stuck to his cheek. He reached up and peeled a piece of paper from his skin then looked at the kitchen table in front of him. It was littered with items from the project he’d been consumed with since yesterday. The sheet he’d been sleeping on was a list of deceased team members he’d procured from Pegasus, along with their contact numbers, family names and insurance forms the next of kin would need to fill out to claim death benefits.

He ran his hands over his face then pushed from the table, nearly stumbling over where Cleo was curled sleeping against his foot.

He grumbled an apology and stepped over her, going to the bathroom where he splashed water over his face. For long moments he stood staring at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like holy hell. Worse than that, even. He hadn’t shaved in days and looked like he’d been on a ten-day bender. He opened the medicine cabinet and took out his razor and shaving cream, then reached over to switch on the shower.

Ten minutes later, he felt and looked somewhat more human.

Whatever that meant…

Was that someone knocking?

Rubbing the towel against his neck, he peered around the open doorway. Who in the hell would be looking for him now?

He tucked the towel around his hips as he headed for the door, then stood staring at the one person he’d last expected to see, but most wanted to…

Max.

MAXINE BLINKED ONCE, then twice, her mouth instantly flooding at the sight of Jackson standing before her in nothing but a fluffy white towel.

She swallowed hard.

“Hi,” she said, feeling ridiculously shy.

Shy? She wasn’t shy. And the two of them had done things that would make the gods blush.

So why was she shy now?

“Hey,” he said.

He looked around her, as if expecting someone else to be with her.

“Come in.”

“Thanks.”

After leaving her aunt’s house, with no destination in mind other than to drive as far away as fast as possible, she was surprised to find herself ultimately parked in the lot of The Barracks. All things considered, she supposed she should’ve expected it. Jackson had been on her mind so heavily it was probably natural she would unconsciously seek him out, look for answers to questions that haunted her like the winter wind blowing behind her back.

He closed the door behind her and she realized she was standing in nearly the same spot she had been the first night he’d taken her up there. The night he’d reached to take her coat…and had stripped her of much, much more. And given her more than she would have ever dared dream.

This time, she shrugged out of her coat on her own volition rather than pretending it protected her from anything.

She caught her gaze plastered to his hard abs and swallowed hard again, her fingertips itching to reach out and touch him. He stood so close, the soap from his shower filled her nose. Yet he remained so far away, the frigid cold outside had nothing on him.

Jackson Savage had always been hotly attractive. Her mother had liked to say he was like a blazing fire to the chilled female masses. They would always be drawn to his heat. She’d seen that firsthand, beginning with the dating candidates that lined up, giving him a neverending selection of companions.

And now she felt as if she’d gotten so close to the fire, she’d been burned.

“I’m, uh, just going to go get dressed,” he said.

Max didn’t realize her gaze had dropped lower, taking in what was hidden beneath the towel, until he spoke.

She blinked up at him. “Oh. Yeah.”

Though he said he was leaving, he still stood in front of her.

Was that need she saw in his eyes? Or was it her own need reflected in the blue depths.

“I’ll be right back.”

She nodded. “I heard you the first time.”

He offered a shadow of a smile and then he finally turned.

She made no secret of watching him go because there was no reason to. Not only because no one was looking, but because it was obvious how she felt about him. It was useless to hide it now.

The question was, what did she do with it?

“You can make some coffee if you want. There are grounds in the fridge, filters above the sink.”

It took her a moment to register the words coming from the bedroom.

“Sure.”

She went into the kitchen and readied a pot to brew, then turned toward the dining room. The black cat she’d seen earlier was in the middle of the table, giving herself a tongue bath. She spared Max a long, questioning gaze, then dismissed her and returned to her previously scheduled activity.

Max mentally shook her head. She’d had pets growing up, but they’d been relegated to outdoors. Seeing one sitting in the middle of the kitchen table took some getting used to.

In an effort to do that, she moved closer and reached out to scratch—it was Cleo, right?—Cleo behind the ears. The cat purred so loudly she smiled.

Then her gaze caught on a bit of familiar letterhead. As she scratched the cat, she leaned closer to read it. Pegasus.

Jackson couldn’t possibly still be working for them? Not after all they’d been through? Not after telling her he wouldn’t be returning.

The cat forgotten, Max sifted through the papers, trying to make sense of them. Cleo jumped down from the table and sprawled out across her feet, her meow capturing Max’s attention.

Max looked over her shoulder to find Jackson standing barefoot, wearing jeans and buttoning a denim shirt, his hair still damp.

“What’s this?” she asked.

He moved to stand next to her. Again his scent nearly overwhelmed her.

“A project I’m working on.”

“Project?”

He started gathering the documents together but said nothing.

“You’re not still working for them?”

“What?” He paused. “No. No, I’m not.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t understand, then.”

“I’m contacting the family members of our fallen teammates,” he said so quietly she nearly didn’t hear him.

A heartbeat of silence passed. Then another.

Wow.

“I stopped by Pegasus on a hunch yesterday and was proven right. They hadn’t contacted next of kin yet and had no plans to do so until after the holidays.”

“What?” Max’s voice was a whisper.

He stacked the papers neatly and then moved them out of the way. “Yeah.”

They both stood for long moment, neither of them saying anything.

Max couldn’t fathom anyone not telling her mother and aunt that she had died during combat as soon as the news was available. What were they thinking? She’d like to believe their motives were well-meaning, that they didn’t want to cast a dark cloud over the holidays, but she suspected their motivation was much more selfish.

She was having a hard time wrapping her mind around the information. She dropped into the nearest chair and sat staring at the papers. The past two days she had been so wrapped up in herself, her own selfish emotions, she hadn’t even thought about taking up what Jackson was doing.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” he asked.

“What?” She hadn’t realized he’d moved until she saw him taking cups out of the cupboard. “Oh. Yes, please.”

“Still cream, no sugar?”

“Um, yeah.”

She brought the pile of documents closer, staring at a list of names she’d committed to memory. “Have you spoken to anyone yet?”

He placed a cup at her elbow then took the seat across from her. “No.” He took a long sip of his coffee. “I wanted to make sure everything was in order first. I want to be able to tell them what insurance would be covering and to what degree, as well as how long the process would take.”

“Everything Pegasus should be doing.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah. Essentially.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out. “What I’m trying to figure out is whether I should do it today, or I don’t know…”

Whereas Pegasus’s motives where in question, Jackson’s heart was in the exact right place. Of course, it always had been.

“Just after Christmas is soon enough.”

His eyes lifted to meet hers. In them she saw deep gratitude, along with relief mixed with grief. “Yeah.”

“I talked to Taylor this morning. She goes home from the hospital today.”

He nodded, but she wondered if he heard her. Still, she was sure he was aware of their fallen member’s recovery.

She put the papers back down. “Would you like some help?”

Again, he didn’t appear to hear her.

“You know, notifying the families? If we split it up, we can be doubly effective. And everyone will know as soon as possible.”

He sat back. “Yeah, I’d like that. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Silence fell between them.

“Max, about what happened—”

“Jackson, I was hoping you might be able to answer—”

They spoke at the same time and then laughed awkwardly, avoiding each other’s gaze.

“You first,” he said.

She shook her head. “You know how I feel about that ‘ladies first’ crap.”

“It has nothing to do with you being a lady.”

She stared at him.

“Okay, maybe just a little.” His smile was a bit warmer. “But it’s mostly because I’m a coward.”

“Coward? That’s one word I’d never use to describe you.”

“Maybe it should be the first.”

She squinted at him, more than a little concerned. “I’m not sure I’m following you.”

He shifted uncomfortably, then pushed from his chair altogether. “More coffee?”

“I have yet to take a drink from this one.”

He moved to the kitchen. She pinpointed the avoidance technique for what it was. But she wasn’t about to let the subject drop.

He came back to the table but didn’t sit down.

“Explain, please,” she said.

He slowly unbuttoned his left cuff and began rolling the sleeve up his corded forearm. “Isn’t there a question you wanted to ask me?”

“It can wait.”

He seemed overly concerned with rolling up his other sleeve.

“Jax?”

He began to turn from her and she got to her feet, stepping into his path.

“Uh-huh. I need for you to answer the question.”

His gaze was hard and she nearly flinched from the change. She forced herself to hold her ground. “Leave it, Max,” he said.

She shook her head. “No.”

They stood like that for long moments, the sound of the cat lapping water out of a nearby bowl and the refrigerator humming the only things breaking the silence.

She wasn’t going to leave it. It was out of the question.

“Then leave me…”

18

JACKSON REGRETTED THE WORDS the moment they were out. But once they were, he couldn’t bring himself to retract them.

Max looked like someone had just pulled a weapon on her. And he supposed he had, in a manner of speaking.

He wanted, no, he
needed
her to take a step back. Leave him be. Let him figure out what in the hell was going on inside his head and then map a way out.

“No,” she said, point blank.

He squinted at her.

“I’m not going to leave. I’ve—” She gestured with her hands, as if trying to find the words to best express her thoughts. “These past two days I’ve done this your way. I’ve allowed you to take the lead, set the pace, decide what was or wasn’t said.” She shook her head. “No more.”

“Max…”

“No. You’ve said quite enough already, thank you.” She resembled a lit match, her red hair seeming even brighter as sparks ignited her green eyes. “What you don’t understand is that you’ve said plenty by saying nothing at all. But I know you, Jackson Savage. Probably better than anyone else in the world…”

He’d give her that.

He crossed his arms, finding his mood lightening as he watched her give herself over to a good fit.

“You say you’re a coward. I say you’re one of the bravest men I’ve ever met. It’s because of you that all of your team members made it out. It’s because of you that any of us did.”

He grimaced and looked away. She knew he was thinking about those who didn’t.

“Oh, no, you don’t, buster. Don’t you dare tune out on me again. I won’t have it.”