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She hummed. “Be a damn shame if you got stuck out there in the woods with your mystery man, wouldn’t it?”
Nerves erupted in my already roiling stomach, and I pressed a shaky hand there. “You think I will?”
“No doubt,” she said easily. “No one should be driving on these roads when it gets icy like this. Will your family be looking for you tonight, honey?”
“No,” I said on a sigh. “My mom is visiting my sister in Salem. No one else will check on me until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Hot damn, you can do a lot in a twenty-four hours.”
I covered my face with a groan. “Oh my gosh, you’re going to make me chicken out.”
“You got good underwear on?” she asked.
Slowly, I pried my fingers apart and caught her eye in the mirror, giving her a slight nod.
Patrice hooted. “Good girl. Always gotta be prepared.”
“I’m not going out here to getlaid, Patrice. I just want to talk to him while I have the courage. My brother is always around when I see him, and…” My shoulders slumped, the weight of feeling stuck hitting me from a dozen directions. “I’m sick of doing nothing,” I whispered. “I want to dosomething. I want to know for sure, so that I can move on from him.”
As she took the final turn toward his house, she asked if I knew what I was going to say, and the answer to that, no matter what came out of my mouth, was an unequivocal no. Hell, just the sight of his house had my legs trembling a little.
I knew where he lived, but I’d never been inside. It was a small white house tucked back in the trees, hidden from the road. Because he was farther out from town, the houses were spread apart, so he had total privacy, and even though the sky was dark and the rain pelted the car with increased intensity, it was still a beautiful drive. In the daytime, at least.
The headlights from Patrice’s car sliced along the front of his house—white siding with wooden shutters, and underneath the carport was the black and chrome motorcycle he loved. A zap of nerves had my tummy rolling again, and I let out a deep breath when Patrice told me to just take off my top and kiss him.
It wasn’t worth arguing with her anymore because she had her heart set on naked shenanigans, but that was about as likely as getting struck by lightning as I walked to his door. Patrice gave me a thumbs-up. “Good luck, kid. You look hot.”
Quietly, I exhaled a laugh and nodded. “Thanks. I promise I’ll give you a good tip for bringing me out here in this weather.”
She winked. “Don’t you worry about that, honey. Husband number three waits for me at home, and he’ll take good care of me.”
I smiled, then tugged my purse over my head to shield me from the freezing rain as I huddled under his front porch. My entire body trembled from nerves and cold because my drunk ass didn’t even think about grabbing a coat. I hadn’t knocked yet. Maybe I could still head home, and he’d be none the wiser.
For a moment, I pinched my eyes shut, running through a quick list.
Pros:
He never knows, thereby I don’t have to move away in embarrassment.
Cons:
I’llknow. And … something with regrets. No regrets, right? Yeah. That was it. And not dying without asking his grumpy ass why he always ignores me.
But it was socold. And my shirt was wet. And I started shivering just long enough that the first one on the list won out. Avoiding mortification was a hell of a motivator, as it turned out. With a raised hand, I turned to flag down Patrice, but she was already turning the car out of the driveway.
“Dammit,” I whispered. I wrapped my arms around my middle in a pathetic attempt to stay warm, then blew out a slow breath. “Being impulsive is bullshit,” I hissed. “Why do people like this?”
Before I could get up my nerve to pound on the front door, it was yanked open.
The wine wasn’t enough.
Not a dozen more bottles.
No list in the world could prepare me for this moment.
Because framed in the light of the doorway—a white T-shirt stretched over his broad chest, towering above me with his dark brows furrowed in confusion and his dark eyes locked on mine like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing—was Jax Cartwright.
His gaze tracked down the front of my rain-soaked body, and somehow, impossibly, his glare intensified.
