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“Ow!” she screamed, holding her hand. What kind of ab workout was he doing these days?
“Bee.” He hadn’t even flinched at her best punch. Now he shook his head and used the nickname he always called her. “What are you doing? Ah, Bee.”
For a moment he paused, and she both feared and hoped he’d say, ‘She stings like a bee, but her honey is so sweet.’
She’d show him sting and honey. Sweet, sweet, honey kisses. Her mouth tingled just thinking about it. Fourteen long years without Jagger kissing her. It was too long. She eased in a few inches.
“Are you all right?” he asked, holding out his hand as if she should place hers in it so he could check her injury, and at the same time, looking her over as if she were unhinged.
Argh! No honey kisses? All right. His loss. Sting like a bee, then.
“Am I all right?” She tossed her long hair and tried to kill him with her eyes. “Heck to the no, I’m not all right! What are you doing here? How dare you be here? Why did you ditch me? How can you live with yourself after breaking my heart in two? Fourteen years … fourteen years without you, you thoughtless jerk. Argh!”
Frustration boiled over as Jagger simply stared at her like she’d lost her mind. She whirled away from him. “Who is in charge? I can’t be on this show with him.”
Now all four men, and probably the cameraman as well, were staring at her like she was a fragile, irrational, hot mess.
She was! And it was all Jagger’s fault.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she warned, pointing at Jagger, but not letting herself stare at him for too long. “This is all on him. Why is he even here? What is even happening right now? Please somebody in heaven give me strength.”
“Ma’am.” The tall blond took her elbow and directed her away from Jagger, Paul, and the other guy. “My name is Shawn Holister. I’m here on behalf of Mercedes Belle.”
She glanced back at Jagger. He looked … miserable and beautiful. She’d spent far too much time stewing about him, loving him, missing him. Fourteen hard years. Eight of those years she’d been married to Mike. Those years had been harder than the others. Poor Mike. She’d tried to love him, but she’d been bored out of her mind. No joy or sparks like her Jagger.
“Ugh!” she screamed, earning another raised eyebrow from Jagger. “Don’t,” she snarled at him, pointing a shaking finger. “I’ll punch you again. You know I will.”
He had the nerve to smile at that and tilt his head slightly, pointing to his firm jawline. “Right here next time, Bee.”
“Don’t call me Bee,” she yelled. “It’s Belinda Leah to you!”
Jagger smiled bigger. It wasn’t the warm, loving smile he used to reserve only for her. This was a mocking smile; he knew he was messing with her mind and thought she deserved it.
The absolute gall of the man. He was stirring her up, making her look like a nitwit, and smiling about it. She was living in a nightmare—losing her cool, hitting Jagger, yelling at him. Everybody thought she’d calmed and mellowed with age. She still had a lot of fun with the children, but that was pretty much the only time she smiled or felt much emotion anymore.
She wasn’t smiling right now, but emotions were high. From the moment she had seen Jagger, she’d wanted to fight and scream and kiss him. She’d give him loads of sweet honey and then sting him when he least expected it.
Gritting her teeth, she whirled back to Shawn. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Holister. I apologize for my outburst. Please reassure me that Jagger Lemuel is not a part of this show.”
Shawn looked her over. Carefully. As if assessing how to deal with a ticking time bomb. Oh, if only he knew. She was holding most of her fire close to her chest.
Then he tilted his head and said, “Can we talk privately?”
“Certainly. As long as that talk gets me far away from that lily-livered snake.” Jagger didn’t lack courage with anything, except apparently facing her. He’d ditched her with non-communication. She’d even gone to where he was completing his A school in Little Creek, Virginia, but had gotten no further than the front gate.
Shawn gave her a long-suffering smile. They walked together, away from the men and the camera, and up into the airplane. He gestured to the side-by-side recliners. “Would you like a drink, ma’am?”
“No, thank you.” She sat primly and faced him. “Just so you know, I am not an out-of-control ragamuffin. Jagger brings out the worst in me.” And the very best. The happiest. The sheer pleasure. The laughter. The adventure. Jagger had given her life vibrant color, joy, and light she’d never experienced before or since.
She would’ve eventually convinced her parents he was the right one for her, only she’d never gotten that chance. Jagger had taken that choice away from her.
“I …” Shawn shook his head and rubbed at his jaw. “Ma’am. I shouldn’t even be here. The woman I’ve sworn to protect and love is in the hospital and I’m a mess.”
Her eyes widened at his admission. “Mercedes Belle?”
He only nodded and glanced back out the plane door. Jagger stood next to the dark-haired guy. Paul was talking to the two of them. Jagger seemed to sense her gaze and zeroed in on her. She looked away quickly, putting a hand to her racing heart.
“I understand you have history with Jag,” Shawn said.
