Rev (Jack 'Em Up #4) (13 page)

“Mornin’, your Eminence.” He bit his lip against a smile as he surveyed my hot pink robe covered in princess crowns.

I felt the blush creep up my neck and I tucked the robe tighter around my waist. “Well, you’re early.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s cute.”

I ignored that and pointed out the bags he’d placed on the counter. “So, what’s for breakfast?

“Egg white omelets with veggies and fruit smoothies.”

I tried not to pull a face. I really did. “Am I going to regret inviting you over here?”

He laughed and I was caught off guard. Genuine laughter from Micah Christian was a rare and precious thing. I liked being the source of it.

I leaned against the counter and watched him work, once again struck by how quickly we were becoming used to being around each other. Some of the weight he seemed to always wear around himself like a cloak was absent this morning. It was like a whole new man was in my kitchen whisking egg whites.

“So, have you always been a health nut?” I asked.

He glanced up. “I prefer health conscious American.”

I stared. Then I realized he was attempting a joke. An honest-to-God witty joke. I burst out laughing and he joined me. It felt good.

“Actually, no. I ate like crap when I was younger. The Marines changed me.” He turned back to his task, firing up the blender and pouring in a mix of ingredients. He slid me a glass of the pink concoction.

“What’s this?” I sniffed.

“Strawberry, blueberry, and flax seed smoothie with almond milk. It’s good. Try it.”

I did. It took a moment for the foreign taste to settle on my tongue, but it wasn’t bad. He nodded his approval then flipped the omelets.

We sat to eat and I’ll admit it was delicious. Different, but tasty.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he said when I admitted as much.

We cleaned up the kitchen together and I considered telling him about the red rose and the weird sensations of being watched, but I didn’t want to ruin a perfectly wonderful day. I also didn’t want him to think I was an overreacting crazy person.

“So, what’re your plans for the rest of the day?” he asked as we dried the last of the dishes.

“Nothing much. How about you?”

“I’ll probably hit the gym this afternoon. After that, I’m not sure.”

“Oh.” I dried my hands on a towel.

“Wanna come with me?”

My gaze snapped around. “To the gym?”

His smile was like a sunrise, startling in its beauty and brightness. “Yeah. Why not?”

Why not? Self-defense was one thing. Purposely working out and showing him how out of shape I was . . . something totally different. “Oh, well . . .”

He leaned in and trapped me between his arms, the counter at my back. “Spend time with me, Jewel.”

I was distracted by the dark stubble on his face and those perfect lips. “Okay.” What the hell?

And, so, I found myself at the gym in shorts and a loose T-shirt, hoping I didn’t embarrass myself.

Micah didn’t seem to notice my incompetence as we warmed up on the treadmills and as he walked me through some simple weight exercises.

I was just starting to get the hang of things when he faced me with a wide smile and sweat dripping down his temples. “Wanna learn some stuff before I teach it in class?”

I was immediately wary. “What kind of stuff?”

“Nothing too hard.” He pulled me in front of his body, my back to his chest. “Here.”

I stared at his face in the mirror as he concentrated on positioning my hand with my palm facing out. He met my eyes in the mirror. “This is how you hold your hand for a palm strike.” He took ahold of my elbow and gently rocked it back then pushed it forward. “See? You can hit just about anything on an attacker’s body with the thick part of your palm. You’ll be most effective if you try to shove his chin toward the ceiling.” He moved in front of me. “Try it.”

I frowned. “I’m not going to hit you.”

“Of course not. Just pretend.” He smirked like I’d never get one over on him anyway.

I readjusted my stance and the position of my hand, then shoved forward, a millimeter from his chin.

He grinned. “Awesome. You’re a fast learner. Again.”

I repeated the move, over and over, until he deemed it perfect. “Now let’s try an elbow strike.”

“Like in Kung Fu movies?”

His lopsided grin made my heart flutter. “Sort of.”

With the patience of a saint, he showed me how to hit with my elbow vertically, horizontally, and even diagonally. His hands were on my arms, our breathing labored, as I stared up into his face.

His gaze dropped to my lips as he used his thumb to wipe a bead of sweat from my cheek. His voice was suddenly low and ocean-deep. “You’ll do the most damage if you put moves together, like an elbow then a palm strike.”

“Yeah?”

His eyes drifted back up to mine. “Yeah. You’ll be a badass in no time.”

I laughed, the spell broken. Yeah. Badass. That was me.

“Let’s—”

“Hey, Micah.”

His hold on my arm loosened as Stephanie Harris sauntered over, all smiles.

I studied the tense lines of his face. This woman made him uncomfortable. Why, I had no idea, but I didn’t like that, or the way she was eating him alive with her eyes.

I spun to face her and stuck out my hand. “Hi. I’m Jewel.”

She frowned and stared at my hand like it was diseased. “Stephanie.”

“I know.” I stared her down with a fake smile plastered on my face until she took the hint and walked away with a sway to her hips that I’m sure was meant to tempt Micah. He didn’t even look her way.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Any time.” I pivoted back to him, my eyes still on her retreating form in the mirror. “I don’t think I like her.”

A smile twinkled in his dark eyes. “You don’t say.”

Micah

S
weet, timid little Jewel Jackson had just bared her claws and run Stephanie off. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t witnessed it with my own eyes. The more facets of her personality she showed me, the more intrigued I became.

We agreed to a picnic lunch, so after we finished up at the gym, we swung back by her apartment for showers. I sat on her couch as she cleaned up first, but with the first hiss of the shower, I was tense and antsy. All I could picture were her naked, wet curves under a stream of water . . . the way her green eyes would deepen with desire if I touched her bare skin.

I adjusted myself and mentally cursed my wayward hormones. She was just beginning to open up to me. I couldn’t blow it by pushing. I was lucky she hadn’t shown me the door after kissing her. She enjoyed it, I knew, but I could also feel her holding back. Until I had her full trust, I couldn’t force anything more between us.

“Okay.” My head popped up to where she stood in the hallway threshold, towel-drying her hair. “You can go ahead.” She tilted her head. “Do you have clean clothes?”

“I always carry a spare set in my gym bag.” I stood and grabbed my duffel.

Closed into her bathroom, all I could smell was her. Sexy and flowery without being too strong. I undressed and stepped under the spray, obsessed by the fact she had just been there. Wondering if she was thinking of me the same way I’d thought of her.

“Get it together, Christian,” I mumbled to myself.

I toweled off and tugged on my clean clothes then raked a hand through my wet hair. I kinda wished I had stuff to shave, but I wasn’t going to miss my chance at a day with Jewel.

I found her in the kitchen, packing up our lunches. She glanced up when I entered, her face light and happy. A sexy angel. “Tuna on whole wheat okay? It’s the best I’ve got for healthy. That and bananas.”

“Sounds perfect.”

We bundled up the food, drinks, and a blanket and made our way out to my Jeep. I’d already removed the soft top so we would be open to the sunshine and breeze. I studied her glowing blond hair as it fell around her shoulders and wondered if that was a bad idea. Women could be weird about their hair.

As we drove, she grinned like a kid at Willy Wonka’s, surprising me. “This is awesome.” A hair tie magically appeared from her purse and she pulled it all up in a bundle.

At the park, we walked in silence, her carrying the blanket, me with the cooler. I was dying to hold her hand but I held back. She brushed against me once or twice and I caught her studying me like she was trying to puzzle something out.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She stopped at a shady spot at the far end of the park. “How about here?”

“Looks good.” I helped her spread out the blanket and we sat side by side, our legs outstretched, gazing at the small pond near us. A fish kerplunked in the water and children’s noisy laughter floated from the playground. The shade of the large oak kept most of the heat of the sun away, but the breeze was still warm as the Texas summer came into full swing.

Jewel offered me a water bottle from the cooler. I nodded my thanks, letting myself sink into the ease between us. I had no explanation for it, but after so many years of solitude, it felt like coming out of hibernation. I was desperate to know her, to know it wasn’t a dream or fluke.

She faced me with a tender smile, her green eyes open and trusting.

“Did he abuse you?” I took a chance and blurted the words that had haunted me since our little Twenty Questions game that had morphed into anything but a game.

Her smile fell and her brows curled in. “Pass,” she said softly. “What really happened in Afghanistan?”

Hell. “Pass.”

She nodded once and turned her gaze back to the pond. “Least favorite food?”

“Brussel sprouts,” I answered without hesitation.

“Huh. Me, too.”

“What scares you most?”

She flinched, but kept her face impassive. I watched as she swallowed the automatic answer that came to her mind. “Mice.”

“Mice? You don’t think they’re cute furry things?”

“Ugh. No. They’re creepy little disease-carriers.”

I laughed and sipped my water. “Your turn.”

“Wanna play Frisbee?” She spun and produced a blue disk from her bag.

“Wanna lose?”

She rolled her eyes. “How do you win or lose at Frisbee? It’s for fun.”

I stood. “So says the girl. Let me show you.”

She ignored my outstretched hand and rose on her own. “Mr. Competitive.”

“You have no idea.”

We played, and though she’d never admit it, I beat her soundly. We were pleasantly winded by the time we sat again to cool off and eat our lunch.

“Can I ask another question?” she asked.

“Are we still playing?”

“Always.”

“Okay.” I stuffed the last of my sandwich in my mouth. “Go for it.”

“Tell me about your brothers.”

“That’s not a question.”

“Sure it is.” At my narrowed eyes, she huffed a playful sigh. “Fine. Will you
please
, sir, tell me about your brothers?”

“That’s better. What do you wanna know?”

She shrugged. “Whatever.”

This one was easy. “Adam is the second oldest after me. He’s a carpenter in Austin. Nathaniel is next. He’s a bit of a nomad, doing this and that. Ethan is the baby. He’s in college.”

“Do you all look alike?”

“That’s two questions.”

“I’ll forfeit my next one.”

I shrugged, picturing my brothers. “Sure. I guess. Dark like our mom, except Nathaniel has light eyes.” She digested this like most girls, all dreamy-eyed. Girls loved my brother. “My turn. Craziest thing you’ve ever done?”

“Strip poker.”

My eyes about popped out of my head. “Strip poker?” I could not picture that and did not want to picture any man seeing her naked.

She actually giggled. “High school. My best friend and I were hanging out with some neighborhood guys in their garage. It was hot. We were bored. Someone suggested strip poker. We agreed, thinking we’d beat them.”