The Ringer (7 page)

They moved in different social circles, always aware of one another’s presence throughout those four years. What they shared was greater than what they didn’t share at all.

At one point, he was even nicknamed Blond Ambition behind his back by the sorority girls. Army’s money came from textiles, while the Thornbird family held the titles to the most prestigious law firms in Chicago and Miami.

“This walking the dog routine will grant me fifteen to twenty minutes tops. If you don’t tell me something good, I’m going to arrest you in less than ten.” When he headed for local law enforcement, Army went straight for FBI. He believed Army had big aspirations for a political office.

Fieldwork for the feds wasn’t Army’s passion, but Jax was positive he would do the job to the best of his abilities.

“Chicago corruption.”

“What’s new?” Army grunted. He leaned back, relaxed in his suit.

He couldn’t imagine wearing one of those on a day in, day out basis. Jeans were generally the uniform tattooed on his ass. “I told you local PD.”

Army shook his head. “Crap move.” At their graduation from Stanford, Army did indeed give his hometown ambitions a thumbs down. He’d also laughed and grabbed his nuts when he said as much.

“I’m being set up,” Jax confessed.

“Yeah, I came across something to the effects of a murder last night, small time shit. Also an investigation by I.A. You’re keeping busy I see.”

“Internal Affairs wanted me to turn snitch on my captain. He’s been dabbling in a bit of everything for some time now, but they can’t catch him. If I come up with something solid, then they will kick my inquiry,” Jax admitted, setting all of his cards on the table.

“Damned if you do and damned if you don’t. Sounds like your career is over, Thornbird. Maybe you should hop onto one of your daddy’s yachts and sail out of here until the heat dies down.”

“I need you to trace the serial number off this gun.” He turned over his iPhone, which held a copy of the evidence from his wrongful shooting. For days, he’d used burner phones to keep in contact with the most essential people.

“You mean the weapon they can’t find?” Army took the cell and slipped it into his coat pocket. He pulled a ball out of the same pocket then let his dog off the leash.

“The gun is from evidence. I need the name of who checked it out.” The retriever ran across the park to grab the ball Army had tossed and returned with her treasure.

“What if someone stole it from evidence,” Army said. “Then what will you have to go on?”

“Is there any way you can access the vault’s footage from downtown?”

“Legally?”

“No,” he said. “Just tell me who took it. No warrants needed.”

“Your ex-partner, Sherman Jones.”

Jax wasn’t surprised Army came back with an answer so quickly. Army would never have put his future in jeopardy by helping a fugitive.

“This morning I caught a call from dispatch. A shooting in Sherman’s building. Did Sherman—”

“Yep, your ex-partner has been admitted into intensive care, prognosis critical,” Army relayed in a dry, emotionless manner, as if he were reading a menu.

He couldn’t be too upset by the fed’s demeanor. Army wasn’t friends with Sherman or his family, but Jax was, and he felt crummy.

“Do you think he helped set you up?”

“No,” he confessed. “Sherman probably saw something and that’s what got him hurt.”

Couples with babies strolled through the park. People with pets walked across the grass to enjoy the peaceful fall afternoon. Meanwhile, his life continued to turn upside down.

“Ten minutes, Thornbird,” Army said, reminding him of the small amount of time remaining to plead his case.

“I want to clear my name.”

“For what? Your career in Homicide is finished.” Army threw the toy up and down, testing his animal’s self-control. “Even if we cleared you, you’re untouchable with the I.A. thing hanging over your head. Like I said, take a vacation.” He chucked the ball, allowing the retriever to break free and chase after it.

“Everyone will think my family influences got me off. I worked too hard for that to happen.”

The dog trotted back with the toy in her mouth and dropped it at her master’s feet without encouragement. She watched him intently, waiting for a kernel of attention.

Army had always been a control freak. The complete and utter devotion of his pet was a requirement, not an endorsement for companionship.

“You know what your problem is, Thornbird? You always underestimated your place. A rich dude pretending to be one of the guys, dare I say normal?”

“What’s wrong with normal?” Jax asked.

“It’s overrated. Life goes much easier if you stay right where you belong, breeds less resentment. Face it, Thornbird, you spend more time trying to fit in than actually doing your job, which I’m guessing you were probably good at.”

A pair of giggling joggers made their way past them more than once. The third time would be the charm. his time was up.

Not immune to the flattery of female admiration, Jax realized they both had their fair share just sitting on the bench. Odds told him those women would stop to speak to them, and he couldn’t afford the attention.

Army wore his rich boy arrogance with privilege. If he didn’t want the women to remember them, he needed to motor. With the belief nothing had been accomplished, he stood.

“Give me the captain.”

He opened his mouth to remind him it would be impossible, but Army cut him off.

“Snagging your captain is worth my involvement. Taking him down could net me a few points on my resume. It would bump me out of agent faster than the petty drug shit on my desk.” Army snapped his fingers. “Get me something concrete, and I’ll help clear your name.” He put his dog back on her leash and left Jax to mull over his offer.

Lane wiggled her little piggies in the plush shag carpet and sank into heaven. She had never been on a private plane before. The opulence of this particular jet boggled her mind.

Jax had dropped her off and told her if he wasn’t back in an hour to take the flight to Colorado without him. Instead, she told the crew not to rush and to return at their leisure.

More spacious than any apartment she had owned, the master bedroom alone was nicer than the best of hotels.

A childhood friend had let Jax borrow his toy. Apparently, he had taken her advice to allow people to help him.
Some help
.

The master suite took up the entire back half of the aircraft. She stood in front of the bed, hypnotized by the luxurious comfort of gloriousness. Even bigger than a king size, it sat upon a wood platform and begged to be bounced upon.

Jax told her that his buddy had inherited his fortune and then doubled it with a tech company. Afraid of flying, the guy rarely used the convenience of his transportation. He just liked to have it available.

Caramel leather seats and couches made up the interior’s front half of the plane. From the minute she stepped on, she was dazzled by its resemblance to a Las Vegas hotel room.

“Hey,” she said, surprised he had come back so soon. “How did it go?”

Jax stood in the entrance, breathless and sexy. She smiled, unsure of what to make of his silence. The rigid tension in the way he held his shoulders told her something was off.

“I told you to leave if I didn’t come back in an hour. Why didn’t you?”

“You were running late.” She swatted his question away. “So I gave the crew a few hours off. They told me a new pilot would be called in if we didn’t leave soon. The earliest he would be available was seven.”

She turned her watch around on her wrist. It once belonged to her father and the face always twisted in the wrong direction. “It’s only five thirty now. What’s the point of them waiting hand and foot over little ol’ me for?” She babbled on nervously.

He crossed the length of the plane until he stood in front of her.

“Why didn’t you leave?” he asked again, his voice a hushed whisper. Before she could answer, his mouth covered hers.

Not a wilting lily by any stretch of the imagination, she sensed Jax was different. Lane instantly went to mush in the grip of his strong arms. She melted from the feel of his warmth. Full lips attacked hers with a slow need. Not rushed or hurried, his soft push encouraged her to want more.

“Sorry.” He pulled away. “I’ve been waiting to do that since—”

“We took that awkward-ass shower on the train?” she said, short of breath and out of sorts.

“No,” he told her. “Since the first time I saw you perched on top of the toilet lid.”

The beginnings of a shy smile worked at the corners of her mouth. She shoved her hair back and tried not to giggle like a schoolgirl. She had waited too long to let a case of the jitters frighten her from this moment. Strangely bashful for the first time, she threw caution to the wind and grabbed his face.

Her lips connected his. The tips of their tongues met and played as their hands roamed over each other’s bodies.

“When can we expect the crew?” He held her loosely at bay. The top of their foreheads came together, her body vibrating for more.

“An hour, hour and a half tops,” she whispered.

“Not enough time,” he muttered. “But it will do.” Jax slipped his fingers through her hair and gave her a gentle tug backward. The ferocity he attacked her mouth with caused her stomach to twist and turn with wanting.

Warmth flooded her system. He sucked her tongue and then moved to the bottom of her lip to nibble. Lane stirred under the rough caress of his calloused hand, which ran over her stomach and ended at the top of her pants.

Jax continued his sexy assault on her mouth. He popped the top of her jeans open. Eons ago sex was a friend. She wouldn’t say they were exactly close, but for a long time sex hadn’t bothered to visit anymore.

Either all good men didn’t know she existed or the universe was mad at her. However, after a long absence, her old friend had decided to knock at her door.
Hopefully no one will be disappointed
.

Jax pushed his hand down her pants. The tips of his fingers inched toward her center, touching her nub along the way.

Lane sucked in a ragged breath of anticipation, a harsh sound, which held an underlying edge of desperation even to her own ears. But she didn’t have time to delve into the belly of those emotions. He slipped his finger inside her, ripping her mind away to places better explored.

Wet, she almost fell apart right there on the spot. A twist of sexual fire spurred her on. She nearly tackled the man onto the couch. A torrent of clothes and limbs flew in an amazing chaotic mess. It was a surprise no one got hurt in their mad dash at liberation.

In record time, her jeans and underwear were on the floor.

In sync with his hands, she lifted her arms. Jax pulled her tank off and fumbled with her bra. It took him seconds to pop the hook and free her double D’s. A gasp followed a slew of expletives.

“They’re huge, right?”

“Only for someone who doesn’t like tits,” he mumbled over the mounds. “And I love them.”

Jax cupped her breasts together. He went from one nipple to the other as she unzipped his jeans. She wiggled her fingers between his denim and his skin. Well rewarded for her search, she touched his rock-hard rod and pulled him out. She slowly moved her hand in a circle over his skin. He ripped the wrapper of the condom open and quickly rolled it on. In one fluid motion, she scooted up to allow Jax to thrust himself inside her.

Relief filled her. Hot waves of pleasure ran throughout her body. Lane rode him hard. A soaring build-up rushed into her before she went careening to her peak.

Lane wanted to collapse on top of him in a boneless heap, but after such an awesome orgasm, it seemed plain rude. She moved her hips and attacked his lips with vigor. When he clutched her butt cheeks to help her move faster on top of him, Jax let out a rough moan. When he bit her lip and released a sigh of satisfaction, the strong tension in his muscles went lax.

By the time the crew boarded the plane, Lane and Jax had polished off another round of toe-curling sex. Physical exhaustion put the kibosh on his plans for more. At the very least, they could be grateful they had made it to the master suite. He wasn’t sure when they’d taken off, but he could tell by the light turbulence, they were well into their flight.

Nestled deep within the crook of his arm, Lane roused herself awake. “How long have I been out?”

“Twenty minutes to a half hour,” he told her, praying his semi didn’t turn into a full-on stiffy. He didn’t want her to think he was some sort of freak. Stress had finally caught up with him, and he’d needed her fantastic body for an overdue release.

“How long will it take for us to land in Colorado?”

“Change of plans,” he said. “We need to detour to Miami.”

“Miami?”

“Yeah, I’m hoping to buy us more time.” The game had changed the minute Army gave him the bad news about Sherman. It was only a matter of time before his status turned from person of interest to a bona fide suspect. And since Army wouldn’t be much help, he hoped someone else would be.

“I take it your meeting from earlier didn’t go well,” she muttered.

Jax rolled on top of the bombshell, forcing her flat on her back. Big green eyes peered up at him. Everything about her enticed him. Her cheeks, breasts, and hips were voluptuous yet firm. Under normal circumstances, he would have dived straight into exploring every aspect of her.

Mind and body would have been investigated with no room to come up for air. With all of his current problems, there was simply no time for him to fully probe every wonderful dimension of Lane Garrett.

“This morning on the police scanner…my ex-partner. He’d been shot.”

“Oh, no!” she cried. Sympathy changed the soft contours of her face. “Will he be okay?”

“Not sure, but it’s obvious they’re tying up loose ends.”

“Which means what for us?”

He moved a lock of hair away from her forehead. “It means we have to find out what they’re hiding before they find out
where
we’re hiding.”